H A R B I N G E R

indie | selective penned by bella

[kcchiya]

HI THERE! I'm Bella (she/her/they) and I'm in my mid twenties, back after a long hiatus from the tumblr rpc! I work and game and write a lot and I'm looking forward to roleplay again! 

Here's quick look at my rules! 

SELECTIVE & MUTUALS EXCLUSIVE

SHIPPING exclusive. No underage, non-con

Happy to roleplay with duplicates 

I tag triggers and I try to keep all I come across in mind.

Inbox is always open! 

[wcrden]

the  law  wasn't  something  he  eagerly  shared  an  opinion  on.  he  thought  every  regulation  was  set  in  place  for  a  reason,  and  those  reasons  were  determined  by  people  who  specialised  in  that  sort  of  thing,  and  had  more  experiences  and  examples  for  or  against  them  than  wriothesley  could  think  up.  skirting  the  edge  of  legality  was  fine  and  well,  but  if  one  elected  to  disobey  the  law,  being  caught  became  an  inevitability.  there  was  no  escape  from  crime,  no  escape  from  sin,  that  would  not  be  handed  out  by  those  condemning  the  criminal,  or  sinner,  in  the  first  place.  not  even  harbingers  were  excempt  from  that.

moreover,  this  particular  one  had,  assuming  that  the  initial  ruling  had  been  a  false  one,  committed  an  actual  crime  in  front  of  a  host  of  witnesses,  not  to  mention  the  iudex  himself.  it  would  be  up  to  neuvillette  to  gauge  further  proceedings,  and  wriothesley  hadn't  been  present  to  properly  evaluate  the  range  of  the  violence  displayed,  the  damage  done  and  how  far  these  circumstances  may  have  pushed  the  ginger  to  take  such  measures  in  the  first  place.  it  wasn't  his  job  to  judge  others,  anyway,  nor  his  right.  ❛  your  actions  are  your  own.  i'm  the  warden  of  the  fortress,  not  a  judge,  ❜  he  reminded,  ever  so  helpful,  and  felt  his  lips  twitch  into  a  faint  smirk,  after  that,  clearly  amused  by  the  idea  of  the  prim  and  proper  iudex  duelling  someone  like  him.  ❛  there  is  a  host  of  duelists  to  choose  from,  but  the  chief  justice  isn't  one  of  them.  ❜

[kcchiya]

As a harbinger, he was used to skirting on the edge of a nation's law. Liyue had seen him clashing with the Milileth on more than one occasion but being a foreign dignitary didn't exempt him from a nation's law. He was well aware of that. This wasn't quite like him, after all. He was a hot-headed menace, but he knew and understood the world's limits and even by his own standards starting a fight in the middle of the court room was an incredibly stupid thing to do. After all, he knew there was a time and place for everything and Childe wasn't a moron. Young and foolish, yes, but this? It was something else.

That something else sang sweet frustration in his mind, it had him acting brashly and it wasn't quite like him to be so angry. He stood before the warden already itching to escape the steel prison and his words had him tilt his head. ❛Aren't you? Judge, jury and executioner as far as the rumours down here go.❜ He argued and there was faint amusement in his tone but he was still too tense to be himself. ❛That's precisely why I want to test my mantle against him. I felt he was holding back when he struck me down -- such power could only come from a being akin to god. B---ut it's not my time yet to fight gods.❜ 

[wcrden]

his  thoughts  on  the  legal  system  simply  did  not  matter.  abiding  by  it  was  a  necessity,  more  than  a  choice,  and  even  if  he  chose  against  it,  then  the  fortress  was  unlikely  to  see  any  consequences  from  fontaine  itself.  his  own  word  meant  more  than  the  written  law,  within  the  fortress,  but  wriothesley  kept  things  in  a  manner  that  ran  parallel  to  what  the  overworld  saw  as  acceptable.  trouble  was  typically  snuffed  out,  violence,  murder  and  theft  not  tolerated.  those  that  wanted  to  return  to  the  surface  after  their  sentence  ought  not  be  stifled  by  living  in  an  entirely,  completely  different  world,  after  all,  that  would  make  it  impossible  to  return  to  life  as  it  used  to  be.

this  harbinger,  he  thought,  wouldn't  stay  long.  judging  by  how  strange  his  file  was,  he  expected  his  sentence  to  be  suspended  as  soon  as  sufficient  evidence  to  set  him  free  could  be  found.  seeing  as  neuvillette  himself  intended  to  look  into  matters,  thre  was  no  need  for  the  duke  to  regarding  him  as  someone  who  would  stay  for  a  terribly  long  time,  or  anyone  of  greater  significance.  he  was  just  another  inmate,  his  sentence  perhaps  a  little  less  relevant  than  that  of  others  still.  ❛  there's  plenty  of  people  who  would  be  pleased  with  themselves  for  forcing  the  iudex'  hand,  ❜  he  said,  loosely,  with  a  light  shrug.  ❛  that  is  unlikely  to  happen,  more  so  if  you'd  like  to  avoid  another  trip  down  here.  ❜

[kcchiya]

The intricacies of Fontanian law was something that ought to be studied. The very many laws that they had that seemed entirely too convoluted and ridiculous, the strange nature of the court and the role the audience played in the verdict of the people as well as that strange machine that had sent him to that metal fortress of theirs and how it worked. It ought to be studied, yes, by someone with more patience and drive than Ajax had in the moment. The anger surged beneath his skin, the call beckoning him to the murky waters behind these walls and he could almost taste the frustration, the lashing against proverbial chains and anger that surged just beyond. Where is he meant to go? And more importantly, how?

He turned, finally, to the man that was addressing him and he saw him as the obstacle that he was. Under normal circumstances, the frame the other carried would have excited him; he was built as a fighter, one skilled and nimble and Ajax would have itched to fight the duke and measure to him in skill and battle but there was a battle much more pressing calling out to him if he could only just find it. The man before him, then, was nothing more than an obstacle. ❛You could hardly blame me for fighting against an unjust ruling.❜ He argued and his eyes narrowed. ❛For a duel? People also get imprisoned for duels around here?❜

[wcrden]

@kcchiya liked for a starter ( open ) !

in  essence,  they  were  two  sides  of  the  same  coin.  bound  by  immeasurable  violence,  with  sparks  of  kindness  hidden  beneath  an  exterior  scarred  physically,  or  bogged  down  by  the  strain  of  responsibility.  it  was  curious,  how  his  file  stated  that  he  had  resorted  to  an  altercation  on  the  very  stage  condemning  such  acts,  and  forced  the  iudex'  hand  before  the  public  eye. 

❛  it's  something  of  an  honour,  you  know,  ❜  he  began,  arms  folded  before  his  chest. ❛  to  be  restrained  by  the  chief  justice  himself.  i  imagine  it  was  quite  the  experience.  ❜

[kcchiya]

His head was pounding, his thoughts murky, consumed by that ever growing frustration and anger that seemed to be all-consuming. Something in Fontaine had awoken and with it, so did whatever he had brought back from his time in the abyss. But it made it impossible to think about anything else, made it impossible to be rational and all Childe could do was fester in the frustration that never subsided.

It seemed to only grow worse since he had been thrown into that underwater prison of theirs, the injustice of his incarceration feeding into the anger that called to him and he barely managed to snap out of his thoughts when a voice beside him sounded. He glanced towards the warden with an impassive eye but continued to stare off into the distance after that. ❛Fontanians find honour in unjustly incarcerating a man for a crime he did not commit? Truly a nation of justice.❜ He spoke, his edge, his tension heard in the way he spoke, though in the back of his mind he recalled the force, the power behind the strike that knocked him down and beneath that inexplicable frustration, he felt the old hunger for battle. ❛I'd like to battle that chief justice of yours head on, one day.❜ 

[kcchiya]

hi, old person here, how do the kids these days rp on tumblr

[wcrden]

hey ! this a brand-new indie, private, selective blog for WRIOTHESLEY from genshin impact.  give this a quick reblog / like if you're also a genshin roleplay blog, too, so i can grow my roster of followed blogs !

[kcchiya]

....well if he's back then i guess so am i

[kcchiya]

geoknight asked:

17

vanilla sunday meme ➻ accepting

17: does your muse leave hickies? do they ask for them?

             Oh, absolutely, he adores having little bruises and mark to show off from his lovers, especially if said lovers were someone he very much cared about. If they don’t give them the hickies themselves, he won’t ask but outright demand to be marked. As for leaving them, if he has the chance, he will be more than happy to leave one or two of his own.

[sillyprompts]

Vanilla Sunday Meme

For muns who aren’t into explicit sexual content, but don’t mind approaching the topic. Feel free to cross out any questions you aren’t comfortable with!

Is your muse a romantic? Do they dream of love and marriage?

Is your muse a deviant? Are they overly flirtatious or forward?

Is your muse good at kissing? Are they experienced?

Does your muse initiate a lot of physical contact?

Is your muse comfortable with public displays of affection? 

Does your muse steal clothing from their partner?

Is your muse the big spoon or the little spoon?

Is your muse comfortable with, or proud of their body? Are they insecure?

Is your muse attracted to any features in particular?

Have their crushes been mostly male, mostly female, or evenly split?

Have their partners been mostly male, mostly female, or evenly split? 

Is your muse easily flustered? Do they blush, swear, etc.?

Where is your muse most sensitive? 

Is your muse more submissive or dominant in a relationship? 

Would your muse ever tempt their partner, e.g. flirting, wearing tight/sexy clothing?

Does your muse initiate heated/sexual contact, or do they wait for their partner?

Does your muse leave hickies? Do they ask for them?

Does your muse like to be pinned down, or to pin their partner? 

Has your muse reached first/second/third base? Home run? 

Would your muse be interested in engaging with multiple partners?

Would your muse ever send a sexual text message? Would they send pictures?

Does your muse read smut, own magazines, or watch p-rn?

Is your muse the type to discuss their sex life or sexual prowess with others?

Is your muse a top, a bottom, or a switch? Do they have a lean?

How interested is your muse in sex and sexual activity?

Do they have sex frequently, occasionally, or rarely?

[kcchiya]

empticius​:

sleep  was  a  choice  for  him,  of  course.  it  was  part  of  being  human,  and  he  wanted  to  grow  more  familiar  with  the  aspects  of  mortal  life,  but  after  the  sweet  dreams  he  had  had,  setting  aside  the  few  bouts  of  painful  nostalgia  that  had  snuck  in,  he  had  ended  up  mainly  experiencing  scenarios  that  introduced  anxiety  to  his  heart  and  mind.  he  saw  himself  losing  the  man  he  had  come  to  love,  to  his  own  actions  or  those  he  could  not  influence.  he  saw  him  turn  from  him,  resent  him,  ignore  him,  or  simply  waste  away  without  zhongli  retaining  any  semblance  of  say  in  the  matter.

of  course  he  worried.  he  worried  for  everything,  worried  that  childe  might  grow  out  of  his  infatuation,  worried  that  he  would  die  regretful  and  much  too  soon,  setting  aside  those  already  painfully  short  lifespans  mortals  suffered,  that  he  would  die  far  away  from  him,  with  words  unsaid  and  touches  still  locked  away  in  only  his  thoughts,  with  things  zhongli  would  never  feel,  what  or  see,  things  that  would,  at  worst,  leave  his  dying  moments  filled  with  bitterness  and  disappointment.  he  had  seen  much  of  this,    so  many  tragedies,  so  many  lives  lost  and  regrets  clouding  the  eyes  of  those  he  had  killed  in  the  wake  of  a  war,  anything  and  everything  ranging  from  relief  to  anger,  but  it  was  the  due  to  fact  that  he  had  seen  so  much  that  he  could  imagine  too  many  things  occurring  to  someone  he  wanted  safe  and  whole.

it  crossed  his  mind  that  he  didn’t  recall  the  last  time  he  had  cried,  and  what  had  moved  him  enough  to  draw  tears  from  him,  but  that  evening  somehow  felt  like  it  prodded  into  a  small,  tiny  wound  with  eerie  precision,  like  it  hit  a  mark  from  miles  and  miles  away,  too  well  and  too  effectively.  the  many  years  of  living  saw  him  thankfully  composed  enough  to  remain  steadfast–  were  he  a  youthful  human,  he  surely  would  have  stood  up  and  left,  to  preserve  his  own  heart,  to  avoid  the  slow  stinging  of  whatever  they  were  doing  then.  when  did  this  become  such  a  deep  cut  ?  when  did  the  warm  feeling  become  such  a  harshly  burning  one  ?  he  must  be  tired–  he  did  only  recently  give  up  on  sleep  again,  perhaps  it  was  messing  with  his  mind.  the  gloves  next  to  him  were  tempting,  and  he  considered  pulling  them  on  again,  although  he  could  already  imagine  childe’s  dejected  expression  should  he  do  so,  and  thus  decided  against  it.  the  grin  made  him  uncomfortable,  softly  so,  but  he  accepted  the  wine  without  losing  the  soft  expression  he  wore,  and  the  smile  he  gave  him  felt  hollow,  but  it  was  sincere.  he  couldn’t  even  force  himself  not  to  smile  at  him,  it  seemed.  the  glass  was  raised  in  toast,  and  he  returned  a  soft  ‘to  us’,  even  if  it  felt  like  jabbing  a  spear  through  his  own  stomach.  the  wine  was  swished  about  briefly,  and  he  soon  took  a  sip,  eyes  closed  for  just  a  moment  of  respite  as  he  did.

[lcyblade]

          – a starter for @kcchiya​

it was a relatively boring start to the captain’s day - paperwork was certainly not his focus , and he wasn’t paid to just stand around waiting for anything to happen. and so , with a wave of his hand and that ever charming grace , the raven haired male stepped out of the knights of favonius’ headquarters. patroling the outer parts of the city was mundane , to say the very least , but sometimes it was nice to be alone with ones’ thoughts. it allowed kaeya a moment of peace.

that is , until his eye absentmindedly landed on a newcomer.  he paused , watching the other from afar , gaze locked with a sudden profound interest. with no doubt in his mind that was a harbringer , given their attire , and while they were not within the actual city it was a … unique circumstance. the fatui were only known for trouble when they were in this area. most knights would have turned tail and immediately report back to jean , urgently bringing backup. after all , it could be an attack on the city , or worst. however , kaeya was more than confident that he could handle whatever was thrown this way. and so , with a casual spin on his heel , the fighter turned to stroll over to the harbringer , a small smile on his features. 

              ❛ aww , are you lost ? you seem awfully far away from home.  ❜

[kcchiya]

        --Mondstadt was not a place he frequented very often, or should for that matter. It wasn’t in his jurisdiction and with Barbados’ vision already taken, there was nothing outside of curiosity that drove him to the windmill city. That, and the fact that Dragonspine was closest to the chill of Snezhnaya he had felt since leaving home and it relieved some of that pressure off his heart whenever he spent half a day bundled in his parka, boots and furs and watching both Mondstadt and Liyue spread before him from one of its many peaks. It was relaxing and recently he had found a lake in the mountains, one that reminded him of the one his father and he used to fish at -- albeit in a much smaller scale. Goulash, tea and a small fire, and after a good portion of the day had passed, Childe left the snowy peaks with a heavy heart and a longing sigh. And a bucket full of half frozen fish. 

He thought about bringing them home, maybe cook for himself and some of his more favourite recruits to offer a little touch of home with a signature dish but then he remembered that there was plenty of fish he could buy at the market for that and while he was here, he could drop by the city, sell his catch and buy a bottle or two of dandelion wine, to try of course. With his warmer clothes discarded by the carriage waiting to take him home, he made his way to the city in his usual attire -- and his usual bright smile and cheery personality, hoping maybe to run into the traveller while he was there. He didn’t expect to be stopped before he even reached the city’s gates proper and with the imposing wall on one side of him ( and they call it the city of freedom and cage themselves like birds, hah ) and the lake on the other, Childe ignorantly looked behind him when he was addressed by the man. He pointed at himself, his smile spreading into a grin, his other hand dangling the bucket full of fish before him. This was a guard, Childe knew well enough that playing dumb would only get him so far.

                                            ❛ Who, me? Seems I didn’t blend in as much as I would have liked, haha. No, sir! Just here to sell some fish. ❜

[kcchiya]

----okayokayokay okay im getting my writing groove back so i should do more replies tonight. perhaps some that don’t belong to coughzhonglicough

[kcchiya]

empticius​:

he  thought  childe  was  being  cruel,  yes,  but  not  for  the  sake  of  it.  too  often  had  he  swallowed  words  to  blurt  them  out  then,  too  often  had  he  sacrificed  for  something  greater,  something  more  important,  and  weighed  matters  against  one  another  to  find  the  better  solution.  it  wasn’t  different  then,  either;  he  could  not  impose  himself  onto  the  other,  could  not  sweep  him  off  his  feet  no  matter  how  much  he  wanted  to.

no  matter  how  often  he  dreamt  of  the  ways  he  could  kiss  him  or  the  things  he  could  say  to  or  hear  from  him,  no  matter  how  unfair  it  sometimes  seemed,  both  that  he  was  ready  to  be  patient  and  to  know  that  their  time,  ultimately,  was  still  limited.  he  would  die  one  day,  unless  he  achieved  divinity,  but  much  as  he  held  him  in  his  heart,  he  did  not  see  childe  wanting  or  achieving  it.  he  would  see  him  leave,  one  day,  too,  would  hear  him  say  his  farewells  and  would  worry  every  day,  uncertain  of  whether  he  was  alive,  where  he  was,  how  he  was,  if  he  changed.  their  time  was  painfully  limited,  squeezed  into  such  a  small  frame,  and  yet  he  knew  he  had  to  wait,  and  every  day  that  passed  was  simply  a  day  he  didn’t  have  him,  a  day  less  out  of  his  so  very  numbered  ones.

he  wanted  to  think  it  enough  to  be  with  him  like  this,  that  it  was  enough  to  hold  his  hand  and  watch  him  glance  at  him  with  all  the  love  he  so  obviously  held  for  him,  but  his  thoughts  kept  dragging  them  closer,  kept  spinning  images  of  laying  chest  to  chest  in  the  warm  sunlight,  of  waking  up  in  each  other’s  arms,  of  getting  to  kiss  him  in-between  softly  spoken  words  in  their  own  little  corner  of  liyue,  of  simply  not  feeling  like  he  couldn’t  tell  whether  he  would  manage  to  be  with  him  before  he  died  or  not,  of  whether  he  ought  to  simply  try  and  draw  him  towards  him  more,  whether  this  actually  had  any  chance  with  the  way  it  was  going.  time  would  tell,  but  time  was  killing  the  man  he  was  letting  into  his  heart,  too.  he  watched  him  every  so  often,  but  took  time  to  glance  away  sometimes,  to  ease  the  strain  on  himself  just  a  little.  one  day,  that  pin  he  wore  might  be  the  only  thing  he  would  have  left  of  him,  and  it  might  remind  him  of  all  the  opportunities  he  missed.  he  smiled,  soft  and,  almost  to  his  own  surprise,  convincingly.  ❝  there  is  no  need  to  worry,  ❞  he  assured.  ❝  we  have  spoken  on  this  before,  and  i  haven’t  forgotten  what  was  said,  despite  my  old  age.  ❞

       Sometimes at night, he laid on his bed thinking of Zhongli. It was innocent thoughts before sleep claimed him, of his soft smile and warm voice, of hushed voices quietly laughing on Liyue’s roofs, of fingers slipping against one another, clumsily reaching for the bottle of wine and lingering against his before grasping the bottle’s neck. He saw him happy in the sunlight, serene and bathed in the moonlight. How often had he looked at him with all the love and longing in his eyes and saw the same mirroring inside Zhongli? He knew what he had to do and knew he needed his resolve to be steadfast, as was the element the former archon wielded but each time he saw him, it chipped away. 

At nights all his thoughts amplified. He saw them tangled together, he saw them curled against one another, found hands running along bare skin, voices whispering their names. When he would wake, his face would be flushed in a deep, crimson red and his skin would be warm and blood rushing and it was good that he had a habit of waking up earlier than necessary as the long baths he took then helped him clear his head. He thought of different scenarios, too, of living a peaceful life where Childe wasn’t a harbinger and Zhongli wasn’t a god and they grew old together in a small hut by a frozen lake, huddled together by the warm fireplace and in each other’s arms and out of all his daydreams, that one broke his heart the most. For Childe will grow old and frail and will need the warm embrace of his lover to remain warm but Zhongli will forever be youthful, strong, bright like the orange lapis he adored so, unchanged like the many mountains that stood erect in the land even he had come to adore. 

That is to say, if he doesn’t die of his own foolishness first. 

He wanted to tell him these things worried him, He wanted him to know it was one of the reasons why he held back, too, because he wanted to spare him that bout of pain specifically. But he thought of an old saying, of a quote he saw written somewhere when he was young, long before the small piece of the abyss has made its home in his heart that it was better to love and lose than to not love at all. And if Childe could give him even a sliver of happiness, than he would leave a mark on the world bigger than any other he could create.  ❛ Could you stop worrying? ❜ He asked with that in mind, for his love was soft and his love was kind and his love deserved to have the same kindness returned to him. He grinned at him as the waiter brought them their wine and the glasses, filled them with the tempting, fruity liquid and he wasn’t sure whether he wouldn’t do something foolish under its influence that night. Perhaps he ought to take it slow.   ❛ Haha, I know your answer already, so you don’t have to say it. But here-- ❜ he handed him his glass and took his own, raising it towards him with the rim slightly tipped.  ❛ To us, yes? ❜

[kcchiya]

empticius​:

ah.  it  had  been  one  step  too  far.  a  part  of  why  he  tried  not  to  nudge  for  more,  to  take  something  more  intimate  than  childe  had  previously  given,  was  that  he  did  not  have  the  heart  to  shoulder  the  gentle  pang  of  rejection  it  came  with.  he  knew  he  had  a  reason  to  hold  him  at  an  arm’s  length,  and  much  as  he  would  always  respect  childe’s  choice  first,  he  couldn’t  help  but  stubbornly  chip  away  at  it  in  his  head.

he  never  claimed  he  would  stand  in  the  way  of  his  plans,  that  he  would  defy  anything  he  would  do  to  fulfil  that  promise  of  his,  or  that  he  would  somehow  hinder  any  work  he  did  as  a  harbinger.  he  had  no  interest  in  meddling  anymore,  so  why  was  it  such  a  barrier  between  them,  still  ?  why  did  he  treat  him  like  a  faceless  god  of  unrivalled  cruelty,  why  did  it  bother  him  that  sometimes  when  he  withdrew  or  stopped  their  exchanged  touches,  he  felt  like  something  in  him,  something  odd,  was  repulsed  by  his  essence  ?

most  days,  he  was  more  than  glad  to  simply  spend  time  with  childe.  sometimes,  alas,  it  felt  like  a  chore,  like  carrying  a  boulder  up  a  steep  hill  just  to  find  it  back  at  its  foot  again  the  next  morning.  he  was,  however,  too  aware  of  what  his  little  kisses  did  to  him,  and  while  he  knew  it  wasn’t  necessarily  good  for  him  to  think  the  way  he  did,  sometimes,  and  to  so  easily  lean  into  someone  like  childe,  he  couldn’t  help  but  be  greedy  and  selfish  in  his  old  age.  he  watched  him  a  moment  longer  after  his  hand  was  lowered,  and  felt  terribly  old,  even  if  he  still  gave  him  a  smile.  his  dreams  would  have  to  do.  ❝  i’ll  have  what  you’re  taking,  then.  ❞

        His cruelty knew no bounds it seemed, from his colleagues whom he annoyed into banishing him to a land so far from home, to the recruits he trained, to the gods he unleased on the city -- he wasn’t a cruel man at the heart and it bothered him at times that he had been reduced to this kind of person. He knew it was necessity in his quest to become better and stronger and be able to actually conquer the gods he had set to conquer but that child that got lost in the snowy, dark forest still struggled against the abyss that consumed him once. 

And that was it, wasn’t it? A part of him knew that all the strife he brought, all his reckless behaviour and cruel deeds would catch up to him. Deep down, he knew he would never be strong enough, not unless he harnessed the power of something else to help him out as well and he would meet his end in death’s harsh embrace one way or another. It seemed worse, still, to give him the hope, the love, the warmth of a relationship just for it to be yanked out of his hands prematurely. And even if he didn’t die in battle, he would die of old age and leave him alone as well. Whether he gave in or not ( and he will, he knew he will ), Zhongli would still suffer. And what of the times he would come home broken and beaten? What of the times he would find himself exhausted because the Foul Legacy took too much out of him?

His love was kind and his love was gentle. He wanted to give him better than what he could but his ambitions and desires overweighed that. He couldn’t break his promise, much like Zhongli couldn’t break his contracts and he knew if anyone would understand it’d be him. It pained him to lower his hand, it pained him to draw distance from him but he did and the air between them was cold and heavy and unlike the sweetness that held it before. But Zhongli would always hold his heart, contained in the gem, in the smiles he gave him, in the way he still held to his hand with one of his when he rose the other to flag down the waiter and order them both a bottle of their top shelf wine. He turned back to him, his lips curved into an apology and he rose his hand to his cheeks, his nose nuzzling against his knuckles before he lowered their joint hands again.  ❛ I wish I could be kinder to you, too. ❜ He said, because Zhongli didn’t need to tell him how he felt, didn’t need to show him either. Childe knew he was cruel and selfish.  ❛ I promise I’ll work it out with myself. ❜

[kcchiya]

empticius​:

if  only  he  could  have  him  already,  to  do  all  the  soft  and  lovely  things  that  moved  through  his  thoughts  when  he  was  left  to  let  them  wander.  how  long  would  it  take  until  he  could  kiss  him,  until  he  could  hold  him  against  his  chest  and  watch  him  more  closely,  until  he  could  touch  him  in  any  way  he  liked,  and  see  how  childe  wanted  to  touch  him  in  turn.  it  was  sweet,  sweet  torment,  but  he  was  a  man  who  was  capable  of  great  amoutns  of  patience,  even  if  the  wait  wore  away  at  him  a  little.

just  then,  he  could  grasp  his  chin  and  draw  him  closer,  and  he  feared  that  if  he  had  already  had  a  few  drinks  in  him  by  then,  he  might  have  just  given  in.  every  time  they  were  alone  he  was  tempted,  every  time  they  passed  a  corner  of  liyue  harbour  where  they  were  unseen  he  was  tempted,  every  time  he  came  by  wangsheng  parlour  he  was  tempted.  every  invitation,  every  lingering  look,  every  touch,  no  matter  how  innocent  it  was,  were  a  temptation.  foreheads  touched  together  and  his  eyes  zoned  in  on  the  man  before  him,  everything  around  them  wholly  unimportant,  even  when  he  withdrew  again.  his  hand  turned,  fingers  touching  to  his  chin,  but  he  didn’t  go  all  the  way,  didn’t  draw  him  closer  the  way  he  wanted  to,  and  instead  smiled  over  at  him,  content  and  so  very  focused  just  on  him.  ❝  need  i  prove  myself,  ❞  he  inquired,  soft  but  a  hint  sincere  in  his  question.  ❝  i  mean  it.  ❞

          Times like these made it so difficult to remain resolute in his  decision. It was necessary, he knew as much. Whether he wanted to be so or not, Zhongli was a god and it tore at the very essence of his being that he loved one as dearly as he loved him. But what a man he was. a boulder in the way he stood ungiving in his patience, gentle like the breeze that caressed Liyue’s lands and warm as the sun that so often shone down on it. He loved greatly and even Childe could feel it in his stubborn defiance and it was chipping away at him each day, leaving him desperate at times, lying in his bed and thinking of the innocent touches he shared and offered and felt his skin burn where his fingers brushed against it. 

So what was it that was worth holding  back when he was before him, beautiful and kind? What was it, the desolate nation he never knew? The anger and the sadness in his teacher’s voice when she told him of the truth she knew? The mission Tsaritsa had imparted on him, had trusted him to carry out? It would be so easy to give in and rest his lips against his, his breath already tickled his cheeks, his fingers already so warm against his chin. His breath was shuddered whan he released it, heavy under the eight of his emotions and he sighed softly at his words. He didn’t need to prove it, Childe knew, he could see just how much Zhongli loved him in turn and it was cruel of him to keep holding him at arms length when he clearly indulged himself in his touches. 

But he had to. He didn’t want any doubts or any regrets between them and he knew he would give in already, knew that his lips would taste his and he wondered if he was as earthy as he imagined him to be.  ❛ No. ❜ He exhaled quietly.  ❛ I know you do. ❜ His fingers curled against his hand, gently taking his away from his chin but before he lowered it down, he pressed a kiss to the centre of his palm -- another one of his indulgences. He wondered how much patience Zhongli still had.  ❛ Should we order those drinks, then? ❜

[kcchiya]

empticius​:

of  course  zhongli  was  a  restrained  man,  someone  who  rarely  gave  in  to  temptation,  but  he  was  also  old,  worn  and  had  little  to  truly  lose,  so  he  had  few  reasons  to  hold  back  from  touching  the  other  how  he  wanted–  and  all  of  them  had  to  do  with  the  fact  that  he  knew  childe  had  a  reason  to  not  give  in  entirely.  he  didn’t  want  to  make  it  more  difficult  for  the  other,  and  so  he  ended  up  simply  taking  what  he  was  willing  to  give,  and  claiming  little  bits  for  himself  as  time  went  on.  alas,  he  had  a  feeling  that  that  would  become  a  faster  process  after  their  talk  recently.

childe  leaned  closer,  and  zhongli  did  not  think,  for  just  a  moment,  and  instead  brought  a  hand  to  his  cheek  in  a  soft  touch,  but  noticed  what  he  was  doing  swiftly  enough  not  to  move  closer.  instead,  he  let  his  palm  mostly  simply  rest  in  place,  and  gave  a  faintly  apologetical  smile.  ❝  that  is  the  most  precious  thing,  ❞  he  assured,  and  gave  his  hand  a  soft  squeeze.  ❝  this  gem,  in  all  its  beauty,  is  nothing  compared  to  you.  ❞

        That was it, wasn’t it? It was just a single touch, a sweet gesture that was as innocent as any they had shared so far but it had his skin turn to fire, heat, warm and pleasant, that rushed through his veins and spread sweetness across his body. His head leaned into his hand without a thought and Childe watched him for a minute, as he spoke, as his smile curved his lips and felt his heart hammer against his ribs without pause. 

He was a harbinger, Tsaritsa’s direct warrior, reckless and defiant and always striving to be better and stronger and yet moments like these with Zhongli made him feel rather weak, in a way that didn’t make him annoyed, angry. He melted into his seat, his knees weak, his fingers gentle touch to the hand that rested on his cheek and the words his spoke still ringing in his ears with such ferocious sweetness that it was threatening to crumble him. He leaned the distance and pressed his forehead against his, exhaling softly as he did so before gathering what strength he had and pulling back. ❛ How do you say such sweet things so sincerely? ❜ He laughed softly and turned his head, lips resting idly against his palm.  ❛ Making me believe you, too. ❜

[kcchiya]

empticius​:

it  felt  like  a  fair  exchange,  a  heart  for  a  heart,  and  even  if  childe  was  the  one  more  visibly  yearning  for  the  other,  zhongli  felt  his  own  longing  in  equal,  albeit  more  subtle  ways.  he  did  dream  of  him,  more  often  than  not,  after  the  first  time,  and  thought  of  him  throughout  his  day,  saw  him  in  the  birds  flying  overhead  and  the  lively  smiles  of  the  people  around  him.  inevitably,  his  thoughts  strayed  back  to  him.

he  didn’t  need  gifts,  didn’t  need  any  proof  of  the  other’s  feelings  anymore.  one  day,  he  hoped  he  would  think  that  ajax  understood  him,  that  he  knew  why  he  lived  the  way  he  did,  why  he  could  not  say  some  things,  and  why  some  days  were  more  difficult  than  others,  but  it  was  much  to  ask  of  a  human  to  understand  the  workings  of  an  archon,  no  matter  how  highly  he  thought  of  the  harbinger.  he  smiled,  and  with  their  fingers  tangled,  he  brought  them  to  his  lips,  placing  a  gentle  kiss  to  his  knuckles,  and  another,  for  good  measure,  after  that.  ❝  don’t  worry,  while  i  enjoy  gifts  i  do  not  need  them,  especially  not  from  someone  who  already  gives  me  much.  ❞

It worried him, more for Zhongli than himself, if he would overcome his dilemma, when he would find that perfect balance between letting himself love him and remaining true to his goals. Undoubtedly he was more than ready to simply fall into his arms and let the rest of his life be carried in the warm embrace of a man so soft and kind, someone he held so much respect for but he wondered whether Zhongli would be all right after he would leave, in one way or another. He cared about him too much not to let these thoughts bog him down, not to feel that subtle pang of worry each time he looked at him and Childe melted. 

Evidently he never wanted to leave him. 

Shivers ran up his arms, through his elbow and down his neck as his warm lips touched his skin. He was starved for touch but his was a feast after starvation, a king’s meal for a peasant, overwhelming and anything beyond his wildest imagination. His heart thumped against his ribs heavily and subconsciously, Childe moved closer to him.  ❛ I’ve given you nothing but myself. ❜ He mused, his thumb running along his knuckles as his smile remained gentle and above all, loving.  ❛ It’s nice to know you think it enough. ❜