eve, psyche & the dragon's wife.

sini ⟡ she/her ⟡ 24 ⟡ taurus

❝care for some tea? there's stories for the soul, too, if you'd like.❞

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

✩ m e n u ✩

ᵖᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵗᵉᵃ & ˢᵗʳᵃʷᵇᵉʳʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉˢ ⁻ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

ˡᵃᵛᵉⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵉᵃ & ʷʰⁱᵗᵉ ᵐᵃʳᵇˡᵉ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ ⁻ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ

ˡⁱˡʸ ᵗᵉᵃ & ᵇᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇⁱˢᶜᵘⁱᵗˢ ⁻ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ

ʳᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵉᵃ & ᵉᶜˡᵃⁱʳ ⁻ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

ᵒˢᵐᵃⁿᵗʰᵘˢ ᵗᵉᵃ & ᶜʰᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵍᵃᵗᵉᵃᵘ ⁻ ˡᵒⁿᵍᶠⁱᶜ

ʲᵃˢᵐⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵉᵃ & ᵇᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢᶜᵒᵗᶜʰ ᵐᵒᵘˢˢᵉ ⁻ ᵐⁱˢᶜ.

ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ: ʲᵃˢᵐⁱⁿᵉ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ ᵖᵉᵃʳˡ ᵗᵉᵃ & ᵃᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗᵉᵃʳ ⁻ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ ᶻʰᵒⁿᵍˡⁱ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

the dragon ascends,

stars fall,

light dims.

❝drink up before the tea gets cold.❞

The god opens the doors to your bedroom with a grander flourish than his usual gentle-natured disposition, beaming.

“My lord, you’re back!” You hop out of bed and bound over to him eagerly. “How was the- oof!”

Rex Lapis engulfs you in an intense bear hug, the smile never leaving his face. “Ah, my dearest sweet,” he hums, “how long has it been since I have embraced you like this? Decades have passed since our last meeting.” His horns and tail have manifested, the latter wagging intensely like an overgrown puppy’s.

You squirm in his tight grip, finally catching a whiff of the wine on him. That Barbatos… “No, it’s only been a few hours. If decades had passed I’d be old and wrinkly!”

“And I would still savour the taste of you every night,” the Geo Lord coos, relentless in his cuddling. His tail does not stop.

Your face turns hot. “A-anyway! Please let me go and I can help you with your…current state!”

“There is nothing that can sate my affection for you,” your divine lover declares, although his grip does thankfully loosen, “except by engaging in fierce, passionate lovemaking until tomorrow’s morrow’s dawn breaks.”

The day after tomorrow?! “My lord, you’re drunk!” you cry out. “None of that until you’re sober again!” Wriggling free from his grasp (and dodging his sloppy grabby hands), you usher him to the edge of the bed and sit him down, which he does so with surprisingly little resistance.

Rex Lapis lets out a huff. “Very well.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes and waits silently.

You frown. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting until I am sober.”

“My lord…” You stifle a giggle. “Wait here while I get you something to eat, okay? And…perhaps a bucket in case you retch.”

“Are you saying I appear a wretch, my dear?”

“Retch!” you repeat. “As in, throw up.”

But the god droops and looks down at his palms. “Wretch…” he repeats morosely, tail thumping sadly against the bed.

You shake your head in exasperation and make to leave, but he grabs your arm. “Oh, what now, my lord?”

He fixes you with a gaze so intense, the gold of his irises gleam in the comfortable dimness of the room. It’s smouldering, the strict curve of his lip almost intimidating… “I demand a kiss before you go. I cannot remember the last time you gave me a kiss.”

“Oh, please. You have impeccable memory which should tell you I kissed you just before you left for the Archon gathering.” You roll your eyes but peck him on the cheek anyway, then worm out of his hold before he can demand another one.

“Fine, at least hear me out.” His gaze turns even more intense than before, an incandescent mountain.

You turn to face him again. “Yes, my lord…?”

He eyes you from head to toe. “I love you.”

“Awww! I love you, too!”

Giggling, you slip out of the chamber to bring back the necessary remedy, leaving a thoroughly disgruntled god sitting on the edge of the bed with his tail thumping petulantly.

In the eyes of most, such a simple gesture would be mundane, insignificant, minuscule even, in the grand scheme of things.

But when your hand slides into his welcoming palm, all you can think about is how this is the hand of a being who has forged countless divine weapons of fine jade, piercing his targets without room for error and claiming the land as his own. Not just weapons, but gold too—Mora, the very currency that makes Teyvat go round. It feels as though even a snap of his long fingers might send the world crumbling to dust.

This is the hand of one who has built his nation from the ground-up, introducing the traditional sloped roofs and sturdy stone exteriors. Under his guidance, Liyue had been turned from a barren land of mountains and valleys to a thriving trade nation raised from the roiling sea. If given enough time, these hands could shape the entire universe, having him mould it to the way he desires.

This is the hand of one who has slain countless gods and monsters alike, showing no partiality as long as the war raged on. This is a hand stained in blood, but all that violence has done little to whittle away at his gentleness. His touch ought to be crushing—yet here he is, beckoning for you to join his outstretched hand.

How can such an exalted presence such as Zhongli even care to throw a glance in your direction, much less hold you like this?

But your insecurities are dispelled with the way he gazes at you, honey-dipped affection and serene smile abound. He tilts his head at you the longer you stare at him, and he merely asks, “Is something the matter, my love?”

He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb running circles over your skin. Yes, all these lofty feats—and he still chooses to hold your hand like it’s the one thing that matters most to him in this moment. The one thing he treasures as much as his own history.

You find yourself curling into him every chance you get. When enjoying tea together, you sidle up to him even if the mug you’re cupping in your hands is just as warm. When he’s talking about something that’s sparked his fancy, you’re holding his hand like a lifeline because of the warmth it gives you. Even in bed, you cling to him like a koala—and it sure makes it hard to get out of bed when you’re just so snug with him.

“Darling,” he might say, looking down at your form curled against his bare chest, a tender hand caressing your back, “time to wake up.”

You would simply mumble incoherently and tighten your grip, and Zhongli would have no choice but to let the better part of the morning slip away like this.

Is that his natural disposition, or is it simply his sheer gentleness that makes him so cozy a companion?

You ask him this one day, because you can ask him literally anything, and he simply laughs that light, airy chuckle of his as he regards you with nothing but affection.

“Perhaps it is something I radiate solely for you, my love,” he tells you, booping your nose, and that’s that.

Really, his warm aura is so magnetic it even comes through in less-than-ideal times…

You’re giving him the cold shoulder after a disagreement, your arms crossed and your gaze fixed straight ahead on some intangible point as you sit on the couch, ruminating in your vexation. You don’t even acknowledge him as he sits beside you; don’t even try to meet his apologetic gaze that doesn’t leave your face.

That familiar warmth seeps into you, even with the distance between you two. So gentle, so golden, so—compelling. And it is a chilly day…

“Ugh!” you exclaim, gnashing your teeth, and begrudgingly scoot up against your husband and rest your head on his shoulder, his hand instinctively coming up to pat your head soothingly.

Zhongli smiles. “Have you forgiven me then, my love?”

“No.” You press yourself up against him more firmly. Warm, warm, warm.

“Ah, I see.” He makes to pull away, but you grab onto him and keep him right where he is.

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m mad at you, but I’m still going to stick to you. Like glue. I’m making me your problem right now.”

You two send letters back and forth as many times as inhumanly possible, counting the days down until you can see each other again. Of course, Zhongli’s patience means he’s taking this a lot better than you are (not to say he misses you any less), but let’s just say you’re withering away with every day you spend at home by yourself. ‘I truly wish I could see you soon,’ you’d written in your latest letter to him. ‘What I wouldn’t give to have you back here with me.’

Zhongli reads your letter with tenderness swimming in his heart—and a plan. There is no purpose in the action he’s planning when all impurities have been cast away, but…some rules can have their exceptions. Just this once. Just for you.

You’re preparing dinner in the kitchen, a nice soup for yourself, bustling about while you hum a little tune your husband used to sing to you. Carefully you stir the pot, pleased as the steam curls and brings with it the desired aromas. All you need to do now is—

“Would you like me to check the salt in it, dearest?”

You scream; your soul nearly leaps out of your body when you see Zhongli leaning against the doorway, an earnest look in his eye and an expression that reads like he never left to begin with, and you’re panicking even more.

The golden-eyed man immediately rushes to you so that you don’t burn yourself, trying to calm you down with a firm embrace and an explanation pouring from his lips.

He hadn’t anticipated startling you this much. But as you yammer to him about how being a god doesn’t excuse him from giving you a damn heart attack, he realises there could have been a better way to officially demonstrate that he can split into multiple selves.

“Hello, Zhongli,” you say brightly when you see him, but a dark shadow skitters across your face (though it may just be Zhongli’s imagination). “Happy Valentine’s Day! I brought you a box of chocolates for the occasion! Though, I’m afraid I must address a serious transgression you’ve committed against me first. You’ve kept this from me for so long.”

With a slight frown marring his face, Zhongli regards you carefully. “I see. And what might that be, my dear?”

Just like that, the shadow passes and you’re grinning. “You stole my heart! I must report you to the Millelith immediately!”

As you laugh, Zhongli inwardly sighs in relief and graciously accepts your gift to him.

Sight-seeing in the mountains may be an unconventional way to spend the day, but it’s a magical feeling nonetheless. As Zhongli explains the history of the mountain ranges to you from where you stand upon a giant pillar in the stone forest, you look around in awe at the massive, sprawling peaks limned by light and cor lapis alike.

”Such beauty,” you breathe, “the air is crisp and almost reverent in its silence, too. So mystical, like a god is standing right here with me.”

You look at the golden-eyed man pointedly, but he simply holds your gaze as evenly as possible. “Indeed,” he answers with a smile that betrays nothing.

After a few moments of this strange deadlock high up among the clouds, you break your gaze and turn back to admiring the world below. “Alas, Rex Lapis isn’t actually here to fawn over this with us anymore.”

Zhongli had ensured the two of you could enjoy a nice, private dinner in the finest booth at Liuli Pavilion, a romantic candlelit spread complete with all the dishes you enjoy most. What a gentleman!

”The food is spectacular,” you sigh dreamily. The gentle ambience casts a soft glow upon the two of you, flickering flames and the aroma of osmanthus providing a sweet embrace. Leaning forward and dropping your voice to a whisper, you add, “Since we’re alone, I think it would be wise to address the elephant in the room, don’t you think? The elephant in your side of the room, in particular.”

“Ah.” Zhongli takes a sip of his tea, his heartbeat picking up a bit. He hadn’t expected you to want to bring this up after the first two fake-outs, but he supposes now is as good a time to come clean as any. “Do tell me. What would you like to talk about?”

You blink, then burst into a fit of giggles. Pointing off to his side, you say, “Why, the elephant in the room, of course.”

Zhongli looks to where you’re pointing and finds, to his surprise, an elephant statuette. A lovely handiwork from the finest artisan of Sumeru. As you laugh to yourself, the poor man joins in as well, his secret safe for another day.

At the end of the night, you are happy and more than satisfied at how the day had progressed. Though, honestly, one would think—with all the hints you’d been dropping—it’s about time Zhongli fessed up to his identity. You’ve always had the suspicion he was far beyond humanity, but to keep up the charade for this long…goodness.

You bite into the floral chocolate he’s gifted you. Delicious.

Omg pls don’t eat your arm!! I’ll still be here writing for Zhongli in 2047!!

Here you go! It’s from the coming Lantern Rite patch! In basic terms, Zhongli can split himself into three identical clones.

He’s also launched into a tale of how he used to train against multiple copies of himself in the days of yore, but on seeing the cheeky look on your face that suggests you have something else on your mind, he trails off and asks you.

You grin. “Do you know what I happen to have three of, Zhongli?”

Zhongli cocks his head, regarding you curiously. “Is this about your three Rex Lapis figurines, darling?”

“Oh, no. Three things on my body to complement your three simultaneous forms.” You lean towards him, grin widening.

He frowns. “Three…embryonic layers, then.”

“Nope. I don’t even know what that is. But I’ll let you keep guessing until you get it right.”

You wink, and Zhongli has to sit there wondering what you could have three of that has you so flushed like this.

A marriage devoid of whimsy is no marriage at all, and you are the biggest believer of this. Therefore, you do everything in your power to keep your beloved Zhongli amused.

“Zhongliiiii…” you rasp, inching your way to him in a terrifying limber, “I’m going to wear your skinnnn…”

Zhongli eyes you over the rim of his cup of tea. “How frightening, darling,” he says in a tone that suggests not a drop of fear at all. “Why do you wish to do that?”

Coming to a halt before him, you bare your teeth. “Becauseee…it’s very pretty…so soft and smooth…perfect for a ghoul like me to savour…”

Setting down his cup and folding his hands on his lap, Zhongli suggests calmly, “If it is the quality of my skin you covet, I would be more than happy to lend my knowledge of ancient skincare techniques—though, if you would like my honest opinion, you are radiant even without employing the skincare routine I follow.”

He makes to pinch your cheek in affection, but you hiss and recoil, dropping to the floor in a crawl. “No! No! It is your skin I want! I will wear only your skin!” You crawl in circles around his chair in a manner most hair-raising, but Zhongli, as always, is immune to your bait.

“Are you a caterpillar, darling?”

You growl, baring your teeth once more.

With you around, things are different. It’s always a day you make as special for him as possible, brimming with love and hugs and kisses and gifts galore. After the initial hype and affection, you set out to do whatever Zhongli wishes for the day.

This year, your husband takes you around the city to indulge in a myriad of leisurely activities.

First, he takes you out to a florist’s for flower arranging, teaching you about the significance of combining fresh Qingxin with evening-hued Violetgrass, or the meaning behind a bouquet with five Silk Flowers and two Glaze Lilies. (You make him a bouquet with every kind of flower arranged neatly in a heart shape.)

✯

The high morning is pleasant, so he takes you out to enjoy the natural world atop a hill overlooking the vast valleys beyond the harbor. As the cool breeze caresses your face, Zhongli tells you a story about an adeptus said to be cloaked in mist and dew, appearing only when the sunlight dapples just the right spot.

✯

A hearty lunch is in order! You take Zhongli to Xinyue Kiosk and order a heavenly spread, sumptuous and elaborate as his tastes. You’re supposed to be paying, but Zhongli insists on doing so himself—he brought his wallet, after all. You pout at this, but he simply laughs and pops a dumpling in your mouth, cooing at how adorable you look. It instantly perks you up.

✯

Nostalgia touches Zhongli, for he wishes to dress in his old garb of centuries past—it’s alright, he tells you, nobody in this day and age will be able to tell. So here he is, in regal brown and gold, elegant as a dragon, poised as a Qilin. (You drop to your knees in reverence, but Zhongli, ever the humble man, picks you up and draws you close to his chest. That only makes you melt even more.)

✯

Tea and calligraphy are an affable pair, so you spend the evening together penning elegant verses while sipping tea and enjoying a stage performance while you fret over your artistic skills. Your husband assures you your wonky looping and ghastly lettering are actually very charming, but he’s one to talk. He’s penned down, in sublime writing, verses of poetry that could make Celestia weep.

✯

The night market is bustling with people! Vendors hawking their goods, buyers laughing, haggling and chattering. A dough sculpture shop catches your eye, and Zhongli is all too happy to tell you about the history of dough sculpting. When he lets you take your pick of the playful little figures, what else do you pick but a lovely Rex Lapis figure?

As the night climbs on and the year writes its final words before turning to the next chapter, there’s a show of fireworks to honor everything that has been and everything that will be. Of course, you always treat it like a double celebration for your beloved’s birthday.

Hugging him close, you gaze up at that boundless sky, raising your new Rex Lapis dough sculpture and pretending he’s up there, weaving his way through those glorious lights. But the reason for your beaming face is, primarily, thanks to the fact that the brightest star is right next to you, hand around your waist, cheek nuzzling yours in tender affection.

Zhongli, too, smiles to himself, warmth touching his face like a brand new dawn.

Except, it doesn’t really work.

You’re grinning as you try to get Zhongli to say something that you told him means ‘I am handsome,’ but actually means ‘I am really stupid.’ But he simply raises an eyebrow and narrows his eyes at you.

“Darling,” he starts slowly, in your native tongue, “I have perfected speaking your language already. I know that does not mean what you claim it means.”

Your eyes go wider than the bowl you had slurped noodles out of last night. “What?! When did you learn?!”

He simply smiles, ever the picture of serenity. “It is only natural for me to learn the language of my beloved, is it not? I had begun learning since a little before our marriage.”

“W-well…how come you never said anything?”

“I wished to wait for the right moment, darling.” He’s still as serene as ever. “Though I do suppose there’s no better moment for you to find out than this. Your teasing will have no effect on me.”

From then on, he begins to greet you in your native tongue. Flawless pronunciation as always, his sentences flowing like spring rivers. Heck, sometimes it feels like he’s far more fluent than you are.

And he is, actually. Not only does he speak with perfect contemporary vocabulary most frequently adopted by most native speakers, he’s also learned the finer, older dialects seen in literature of centuries past. Words that you don’t know and sentences that you can’t comprehend because they’re so far removed from the lexicon of today…

“What do you think?” Zhongli asks eagerly, having just waxed poetic in the old vernacular of your language.

You blink at him blankly but affix a smile onto your face. “I think I heard the word for ‘cat’ somewhere in there?”

It’s all thanks to you.

As the first part of your master plan, you take advantage of how he happily accepts anything and everything you gift him—from the serious presents that match his antique aesthetics, to the cringey joke hats and sweaters—he receives them all without complaint, because anything you set out to give him is a gift most worthwhile indeed.

The weather is getting colder and colder, you tell him, presenting him with a lovely lilac sweater vest. It pairs perfectly with the rosy pink cardigan you’ve bought for him as well, and with much gratitude he slips the clothes on.

“I feel quite warm and comfortable in these,” your husband says with a soft smile, wrapping his arms around himself (you can barely contain a squeal at how fluffy he looks). “Thank you, my dearest.”

You grin. You’re not quite done yet.

He ought to protect his head and ears so as to prevent catching a cold! Granted he’s less susceptible to sickness considering he isn’t human, but you give him a lovely cream-colored knit hat all the same.

This one is special: it’s got little dragon ears sticking out the top, much like Zhongli when he in his tinier, chonky form. A true Rex Lapis believer would never go out without a nice Chonkli hat in the winter, after all!

The next thing you gift him is a puffy backpack patterned with silk flowers and glaze lilies galore, looking like a fairy garden in its own right. The bag itself is the same shade of pink as his cardigan—after all, a matching outfit speaks volumes to style. Zhongli can put all his work things in the bag, so it’s a gift of both aesthetics and convenience.

As Zhongli happily transfers his work material from his (rather drab, in your opinion) plain brown briefcase, you present him your last token of affection—it’s a little doll, wide-eyed and adorned with little flower pins it its purple rabbit-like ears (hair?), pointy-toothed grin stretching from ear to ear, its glittery blue hanfu its only saving grace from its horror show aspects.

This is a Liyue-bubu: one of the nation’s latest and greatest trends, and it would not do for the god to be out of touch with his own land’s fashions, would it?

Zhongli beams and kisses your forehead as he eagerly affixes the ghastly little thing to one of the zippers on his new backpack.

Thusly he ends up sitting at his desk at work, warm pink and purple adorning his body, a Chonkli knit hat sitting snugly on his head, and a nice flowery backpack leaning against his seat. When a bereaved client comes in for a solemn consultation, Zhongli nods and scoops his twinkly bag up to rummage through it for the item he needs.

I’m not really up to date with genshin anymore, but your works still pop into my head from time to time. I remember loving how silly and cute they were. And today i found myself thinking, “I’m going to track down the author!”. I’m glad you weren’t hard to find, since you showed up right at the top of the search!!

You are sitting under a tree, watching the clouds pass by at leisure, as one does. It’s an uneventful day, but quite lovely all the same. Your husband Zhongli hasn’t gone too far; he’s wandered off to pick some flowers he had been admiring earlier.

You sit there waiting in peace, until a small group of treasure hoarders comes swaggering over, the most annoying smirks plastered on their smug faces.

“Hullo there,” one of them drawls, leaning forward into the shade of the tree—and encroaching upon your space. “That’s a neat amulet you’ve got on. Mind handing it over quietly and without fuss? ‘Course, if you wanna do it the hard way, we won’t say no.”

You clutch the amulet hanging at your neck—one that Zhongli had gifted you. You’ll be damned if you ever let anyone else have it.

“Oh, give me a break," you whine, getting up. “I'm telling you, you don't want to mess with me!” Your Vision, tucked away from sight, flares to life, ready to let you take care of these miscreants.

One of them snickers. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do?”

You steal a quick glance off to the side and see Zhongli approaching, flowers in hand. He pauses at the sight, eyes flicking between you and the treasure hoarders. There’s a slight frown on his face, but he doesn’t do anything—yet. He knows you can take care of things yourself.

Well, you hope he’ll cooperate with the fantastic idea that’s just taken root in your mind. There’s no need to use force at all.

Leaning forward with crafted arrogance, you say, loudly and haughtily, “Haven’t you heard of me? I’m a dark mage.” The corner of your lip quirks up. “I could turn you all into harmless little creatures.” You watch as they go from stunned silence to a fit of snickers, then break into full-on peals of laughter, clutching their sides in an obvious display of disbelief.

“Of all the bluffs I've ever heard, this one's gotta take the cake for prime bullshittery!” one of them guffaws.

You roll your eyes and huff, planting your hands on your hips. “So you guys have chosen to piss me off. You want a taste of what a mage can do?” You make a show of looking around, then your eyes fall pointedly on Zhongli. “Ah. Isn’t that the old Wangsheng fool?”

Zhongli winks ever so subtly.

Smirking, you turn and announce to your incredulous audience, “Watch as I turn him into a small and harmless creature, never to enjoy the gift of humanity again!”

Chanting a string of incoherent gibberish and waggling your fingers, you thrust your hands towards your darling husband in a grand gesture of dark magic. (It also helps that elemental particles flicker about, courtesy of your Vision.)

Poof! Zhongli the man turns into Zhongli the tiny chonker, who squeaks in feigned surprise. He looks around, eyes landing on his fluffy tail, which he then begins to chase in circles. Once an elegant man full of wisdom, now barely more than a clueless dragon-puppy-thing.

The treasure hoarders have skedaddled, screaming, before you can even turn to them with a triumphant grin.

You chuckle and turn to your fluffy little husband padding over to you, picking him up. “I guess none of them were in the mood to become cute little fellas?”