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“I cannot believe your utter gall!” declared Zibai as she stormed up the steps of Third-Round Knockout, straight to the table where Zhongli and Childe wine’d and dined.
His dear Ajax groaned, slamming down his cup of wine, while Zhongli startled so badly he dropped his chopsticks.
“…I do not quite understand what you mean, Zibai,” Zhongli replied as politely as possible, trying not to look and sound too irritated, because gods forbid he spend time with his lover, right?
She pointed an accusing finger at him. “You married my little brother?”
“Zhongli-xiansheng is married?” gasped Iron Tongue Tian, the sentiment mirrored by the two nosy fishmongers from the other table.
“Oh my fucking gods.” Ajax sank into his seat, under the table, hiding his face in his hands.
That was very rude. Zhongli was pretty sure he’s the only god who fucked Ajax, and no, Venti dearest, you do not count because you bottomed.
“Please refrain from telling me that people do not know you are married.” She was judging him now, and Zhongli mourned his pristine reputation. “Are you ashamed of your husband? What is wrong with you?”
Beneath the table, Ajax let out a muffled wail that was very unbecoming of his status as harbinger. “Someone, anyone, kill me now.”
Zhongli barely got to hiss at him to keep his trap shut. Too late. Zibai zeroed in on his poor little love.
“You even took a lover?!” Zibai looked horrified. “You, boy, out. I want to see you.”
Not one to back off from a challenge, Ajax stood, bumping his head in the process. “Ow, shit– what do you want, lady?”
Zhongli grabbed the younger man’s arm and pulled him back down to his seat, ignoring the indignant yelp.
“You two, quit it,” warned Zhongli through gritted teeth. “And Zibai, please do not antagonize my Ajax.”
Zibai frowned. “What in Celestia is an Ajax?”
Said man’s smile was all teeth, preparing to pounce. “That would be me. Yeah, that’s right. I’m number eleven of the Fatui Harbingers, codenames Childe and Tartaglia, but right now, I’m just Ajax.”
The goddess narrowed her red eyes at him. “The one who raised Osial? Such an insolent boy, you dare—”
“Enough.” Zhongli’s eyes flashed. “I would like to not be kicked out from my favorite tavern, thank you very much.”
Finally, they both shut up, grumbling. Zhongli brightened. Retired or not, he still got it.
Meanwhile, the three onlookers did a very good job of pretending they weren’t being nosy busybodies. If they know what’s good for them, they won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.
His smaller in-laws can be good for some things after all.
“Why don’t you come sit?” he invited his friend while squeezing Ajax’s hand to keep him calm. “I will explain everything, I promise.”
Thankfully, her anger seemed to drain out as she sat down on the third seat and stole a spoonful of jiu niang from Zhongli’s plate. Her eyes went from red to gold.
Ajax leaned in to whisper, “She’s the White Horse Adeptus, yes? Can I spar with her?”
Zhongli kissed his forehead. “Ask her later, dear.”
Zibai side-eyed the display in the exact same judgy vibe the Thousand Winds torment him with every waking moment, which, right. That makes Zibai his sister-in-law.
She grabbed another bite. “Talk.”
Zhongli gave up trying to get his food back and he did, regaling one of his oldest friends and allies the… family friendly version of his relationship timeline with Venti, scandalous lovers and sexcapades excluded.
(Nobody needs to know that fateful night where he shared Venti with both Xbalanque and Monomakh.)
By the end of it, Zibai was in possession of Zhongli’s sweet fermented rice and half their spring rolls, and he was sharing noodles and meat skewers with Ajax.
Zibai looked almost… wistful now. She pushed the rice around, her chin resting on her palm. “Such a shame I wasn’t there when the two of you courted and married. I’m sure he made for the most beautiful bride.”
Ah, the memories. “He was.”
“Now, what’s this,” she waved her spoon at Ajax, “about? Trouble in paradise?”
Ajax snorted. “Could be. It depends.”
Zhongli squeezed his thigh. “Our marriage is fine. More than fine, actually. We are just in an open relationship.”
She hmph’d, and there it is. She is definitely Venti’s sister.
“So Ba- Venti. He has his own mistress too?”
Ajax squawked. “I am not a mistress!”
Zibai ignored him, looking at Zhongli expectantly. He sighed.
“...Yes, he does. He has two lovers right now.” That he knows of.
“Two lovers? How very strange…” She mulled over this for a good while, long enough for the couple to finish dinner. “He used to be so small and innocent. He was the youngest of the Thousand Winds, like how Nicole was the youngest of us envoys. You know what his tasks were? Pollinating flowers like a little bumblebee... and you dared defile him.”
Oh, if only she knew…
(A small figure unfurled their glorious wings, revealing a body that was barely clothed in scraps of pure white fabric. Their hair was of the night sky, with eyes the color of spring, and rosebud lips.
“Hello,” greeted the young god of wind and song, the first of The Seven, to the warrior god of Liyue. He offered a bottle of wine. “I am Barbatos. Would you like to be friends?”
Zhongli’s blood rushed south so fast that he nearly fainted, and poor Bosacius thought he was having a stroke.)
“Well, yes.” Zhongli looked at her weird as Ajax paid (obviously). “That’s what being married entails, yes.”
Eye twitching, she finally stood. “Old friend, I have decided.”
Ajax straightened up, suddenly interested. “Decided what?”
“We duel for my little brother’s honor.”
Zhongli resisted the urge to pinch his nose as Ajax began vibrating with excitement. “Zibai…”
“First blood, weapons only,” she continued. “You may keep your pretty boy as a witness.”
“Pretty boy!?”
“I accept,” Zhongli said, because he was tired, and also because he knew better than to argue with an in-law, and also because some tiny, petty part of him wanted to see if six thousand years had dulled her edge.
Zibai smiled. Zhongli felt his life expectancy drop.
“Let’s have another round tonight!” Venti demanded, high off sugar and alcohol, straddling Diluc’s strong and muscular thighs.
The poor man groaned, swatting greedy little hands away from his limp dick. “Nooo, enough, enough! Cecilia, cecilia. My dick’s gonna fall off at this rate—”
“Aw, boo,” pouted Venti when Diluc pulled on a pair of sleep shorts. “Fiiiine.”
He flopped on the space beside Diluc, immediately seeking cuddles as the man pulled the covers over them. He runs warm, it’s nice.
“Insatiable little brat,” grumbled Diluc, yet he sounded fond. “Which dick got you acting like this, huh?”
“The one when I lost my v-card,” Venti casually revealed, before beaming. “Ooh! It was your ancestor’s actually, his name was Dellingr and it happened after the tyrant in Old Mondstadt was defeated, and he said he’s taking a trip to see the world so I gave him a little farewell gift before he left—”
“The fuck?”
“—and then my husband’s, obviously. He has two sometimes and it feels great in both holes, or two in one, but don’t tell him I said another man’s name before his, he gets jealous and then he plows me to the floor—”
“Oh my gods, shut up,” Diluc chortled, squeezing Venti’s ass possessively, then pulled the god into his arms. “I don’t like knowing you’ve had sex with my ancestor, or ancestor‘s’…?”
That was supposed to be rhetorical.
Venti hummed thoughtfully, squeezing his biceps. “Oh, yeah, I’ve shared a bed with two more members of the Ragnvindr Clan. Ragi, the founder himself, during the second rebellion; and Morgen five hundred years ago.”
Diluc regretted asking. “Now you really need to shut up.”
“Yessir~” Venti’s hands trailed down to his abs.
Right then, the balcony doors burst open with a gust of wind.
Venti shrieked and hid under the covers to preserve the illusion of his modesty. Diluc was about to summon his claymore when a tiny wind spirit manifested before his eyes.
Oh, wow. They’re adorable and looked strangely fluffy. They don’t really show themselves to humans nowadays, though, so their stories faded to myths. Legends say that Venti was one of them, once.
“Hello…?” Diluc greeted, removing his groping hand, because this is Venti’s sibling and Diluc was raised in polite society.
Hello, little brother’s boytoy! [the fuck? (2)] greeted the wisp, before landing on the lump that is Venti and wiggling around. Brother, brother! I have very important news!
When Venti crawled out, Diluc was relieved to see that he’d summoned some soft pajamas onto himself. Venti glared at his sibling.
“What is it, Willy?”
Willy? What an unfortunate name.
Zibai and Morax are fighting! the wisp chimed, gleeful, spinning in a delighted circle.
“Eh!?” Venti sat up so fast, throwing the blanket off. “Since when was Zibai alive? Did she turn evil and started another war? I’m tired of fighting in wars, I’m too pretty to be another god’s war bride and none of the new archons are my type!”
…???
Nah, it was just a duel, Willy waved it off and spun around again. Jiejie and Zhongli were only using weapons, and it’s not as epic without all the flashy stuff.
“Oh thank mama,” sighed Venti, but he’s already scrambling for his discarded cape and tights and shorts and hat. “I should– I should probably mediate. I don’t want my now-alive sister to kill my hubby!”
Diluc pulled the blanket over his face and groaned. “How many siblings do you even have?”
“Including or not including the angels?”
“The what?”
In a pillar of anemo energy, Venti appeared at one of the many cliffs of the Chasm, just when his hubby disarmed his sister and pointed his spear at her throat, the majestic view lit by the full moon.
Ooh, yummy!
Venti loves competent men, they’re literally his type and he can find them everywhere~
Case in point: Aether, the Ragnvindrs, Varka, Dahlia, Xiao, commissioner hottie during the Irodori Festival, general jackal from Sumeru with his hilarious jokes; tall, dark and handsome from Fontaine; doctor sexy from Natlan, Ajax to an extent, Lanque and Monichka, etcetera etcetera…
“Do you yield?”
Zibai smirked, grabbing her blade and rolling away right when Zhongli was about to knick her skin. “Not yet.”
She stood and they circled each other before diving in once more, their duel like a deadly dance. Venti also spotted the overgrown carrot idling nearby.
Venti siddled up to his husband’s boyfriend. “Hey, twunk.”
“Hey, twink.” Ajax spared him a glance and the briefest of nods.
Ugh, so formal, acting like he hasn’t been inside him! Oh, well.
Venti bounced on the balls of his feet, drinking in the sight of his beautiful hubby working those muscles he knew existed beneath the suit.
“What’s the duel about? Willy didn’t say.”
Ajax snorted. “Your honor, apparently.”
What honor? Squall sniffed, Venti shooed him away.
Weapons clashed to Ajax’s leering and Venti’s cheering. It spurred Zhongli on.
He can’t lose aura in front of his adorable husband and his sexy boyfriend, so he began to show off like some pompous popinjay in need of a mate.
That was his first mistake, because Zibai did not become rusty at all.
His sister found an opening within Zhongli’s gaudish mating call. She feinted, Zhongli stepped back, and faster than anyone could react, her wrist flicked up, and now there was a cut on Zhongli’s jaw that slowly bled golden ichor.
Venti winced, while Ajax looked positively ravenous at the sight.
Zhongli’s fingers swiped the blood off his jaw. He looked at it, then at her. “…I concede.”
They put their fist to their palms and gave a shallow bow. Both their weapons vanished in golden sparkles.
Ajax immediately hung on Zhongli’s arm, grabbing the hand where the glove soaked the blood and putting it in his mouth. Ignoring the flustered noise his husband let out, Venti flitted over to his sister.
“Heya, Zibai~!”
She put her hands on her hips. “Didi.”
Venti gave her his best puppy eyes (which were not working, so he quickkly pivoted to plan B), before flipping the script on her. He scowled. “Since when in the seven hells are you alive? I found out, like, five minutes ago!”
Zibai faltered. Ha! That’s what she gets for trying to act holier than thou.
“I mean, I already expected this behavior from my own husband because he’s old and he has bad memory.” Venti began to pace. “But you, jiejie? Seriously?”
Zibai poked her index fingers together, suddenly looking very contrite. “I was going to visit you this upcoming Weinlesefest after I fully reacquainted myself with the descendants of Lang-Gan, but alas, our siblings told me that Morax had married you, so I’ve decided to try finding his audacity.”
Venti tried to fight off a smile. “And did you find it?”
“No.” Zibai sniffed.
Venti giggled, mask off. “It’s okay, jie. No need to worry about little ol’ me, I’m happy and loved, and I like our arrangement. It’s what works best, for the both of us.”
“Seconded,” came from Zhongli. His wound had healed to Ajax’s disappointment (the little freak loved the taste of blood).
“Xiansheng, can we play with knives later?”
“So polite,” cooed Zhongli. “Venti, you could learn a thing or two– ow!”
The unseen wisp giggled and zipped away. That was either Tinkle or Ghibli and Venti will have to thank them for that later.
Paying no heed to the tomfoolery nearby, Zibai smiled wistfully and pulled her little brother in for a hug. “You’ve grown so much, ventulus. Where has all the time gone?”
Venti sniffled and returned the hug. Zhongli watched the display, fond, until Ajax bit his neck and he yelped.
After a while, Zibai pulled away and pinched her didi’s chubby cheeks, shooting her old friend (currently being mauled by an audacious human) a quick, suspicious look. “I suppose you’ve done well for yourself… your choice of spouse notwithstanding.”
“Aiyah.” Zhongli rubbed his neck.
“But he loves me.” Venti pouted.
“That he does,” agreed Zibai. She tapped her chin thoughtfully, “Even though he’d proved his intentions towards you, he did lose our duel, and I haven’t made up my mind yet on what the loser’s punishment would be. Hm. What to do, what to do…?”
Zhongli looked alarmed, Ajax now carried bridal-style in his arms. “I will do anything except divorce the love of my life.”
Zibai scoffed. “So dramatic, and for what?”
“Pot, meet kettle,” snarked Ajax. Zhongli pinched him.
“I’m thinking…” Zibai’s gold eyes glinted, “I want you to hold another wedding.”
Venti lit up. “That’s a great idea!”
“Baobei, that’s unecessary, we’re already married—”
That was Zhongli’s second mistake.
You cannot logic your way out of whatever sentimental thing Venti wants to do, and now the wind god is shooting his husband his most lethal puppy eyes.
“You mean you don’t want to renew our vows with my big sister in attendance?”
And just like that, Zhongli folds.
Nicole was so excited at the news — which had spread throughout Mondstadt by noon the next day — pinching his cheeks and ruffling his hair and insisting she design Venti’s wedding garb.
Venti had vetoed three designs already. His other angel big sister was not deterred and kept sketching, and the current iteration was a tangzhuang that she consulted Zhongli on.
When Venti tried to keep being a busybody, Alice patted him on the head and sent him off to Diluc who volunteered to cater.
Grumbling, Venti went.
When Venti arrived to the second floor of Angel’s Share, he found his loverboy with his other loverboy and he tried not to look too thirsty.
“Congratulations on getting hitched again, sweetheart!” Varka pulled him onto his lap and Venti melted, swinging his legs. “How many guests are you inviting?”
“Well, obviously all of Mondstadt,” Venti began, his identity was the worst kept secret ever, “all my siblings that are alive, the archons that don’t hate my guts, the adepti and our other immortal friends, Aether and Paimon.” He paused, then mumbled, “Hopefully my mother shows up too—”
Varka quickly wrote everything down. Mother?
Meanwhile, Diluc snapped his fingers to get Venti’s attention, and handed him a list. “This is the menu I’ve come up with. Three courses, two mains, a dessert table, and I’ve already had Charles pull your favorite vintages from the cellar.”
Venti skimmed it, humming agreeably, then stopped, his face doing something complicated.
“No cheese, I hate cheese!” Venti crossed his arms and pouted. “It stinks and it’s a sticky mess and it feels weird in my mouth. No seafood too, for my hubby.”
Varka laughed uproariously, squeezing Venti’s waist. “You’re literally the community bottom and now your body’s a temple?”
“Grand Master!” hissed Diluc, his face going red as his hair. Venti started laughing, the little shit. “Fine. Fine! It’s your wedding. Anything else I should know, or should I just surrender my kitchen to your palate now and save us both the heartache?”
Stifling his laughter, their god tapped at the list. “More wine.”
“There is already wine.”
Venti leaned over to whisper something to him, and Diluc got even more red, if possible.
“More wine,” Diluc finally agreed, muttering something unflattering about annoying flighty twink gods. Venti sat back down on Varka’s lap, delighted.
Varka rested his chin on top of his head. “Who do you want to walk you down the aisle?”
“Zibai, definitely.” Venti’s voice went a little softer. “She missed the first one.”
“Alright, then. Now…”
Outside, looking in from the window, was a handful of anemoi.
That’s not fair! Wren stomped his nonexistent foot. I want in too!
Weren’t we the flower girls and boys at the first wedding? Wendy tried to reason.
No, like, physically… Wren sulked. With my own hands and feet and the ability to get drunk.
We don’t even have stomachs, Huff pointed out, sighing.
Wendy thought for a moment. Remember that story big sis Nicole told us? The one with fairies?
The one where believing in them makes them stronger? Chirp perked up. So what?
Right, said Wendy, turning to face them all, so what are we?
A thousand winds, said Flutter.
A thousand believers, said Wren, catching on, eyes brighter.
A thousand believers who all believe in each other, Cielo realized. That’s a lot of power… could it be enough to sustain all of us?
The siblings looked at one another.
Then a fresh gust of excitement swept through them all at once, and off they went — a tinkling, tumbling trail of wisps streaking across the Mondstadt sky, up and up and up, until they were flitting around the floating island of the Hexenzirkel like a swarm of very excited, very determined fireflies.