@windheard - "i wish we could stay here forever." / for dahlia.
Windrise's Tree had always been of symbolic nature to Mondstadt, but equally a place to seek respite from the everyday hustle and bustle. However sought after peace & quiet?, for those excruciating past centuries?, alone?.
For even as playful of character as Dahlia is, this waiting game had been nothing but torture. The last 500 years, from an incident the vampire shan't name of, it left the deacon with an indescribable feeling than simply the pain of having to wait on the Anemo Archon's awakening.
Lavender hues cast their gaze downward, at the bard resting one's head onto laps & Dahlia reach to scoot aside dark strands if for eyes to meet, then gently cup the other's cheek.
He never got to say 'sleep well' back then.
But he was here now, his god.
Maybe, it won't matter & yet, there is no longer a reason to withhold what should have been said on the very first day Venti woke up...
''Welcome home'', oh how he had long ached to utter such words, with reverence, with indisputable warmth.
❝ I see the winds have carried you far from Mondstadt once again, Barbatos.Your songs grow more embellished with every retelling. At this rate, I suspect even the Archon War will soon feature you as its sole victor. ❞ He rose slowly from his seat, folding his arms with the composed ease of someone long accustomed to command. Though his posture remained dignified, there was a faint curve of amusement at the corner of his lips - the sort of restrained humour one might only notice after watching him closely for some time.
The former Archon regarded the bard with a steady gaze, amber eyes glinting with quiet knowing. After all, he had witnessed countless performances of Venti’s particular brand of storytelling across the centuries. ❝ Should you intend to compose another ballad concerning Rex Lapis, I would suggest consulting one who witnessed those events firsthand. ❞
𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙱𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝙰 𝚂𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 in all of Teyvat more striking than this — Venti bathed in the soft spill of morning light, gold catching in his hair, settling against his skin like something made just for him. It drew Varka’s attention without effort, held it there longer than he cared to admit. Beautiful, he thought, with a quiet huff of amusement under his breath. Needy, too. Though he hardly had the right to say it — not when he felt the same pull, low and insistent.
His lips traced slowly along Venti’s neck, unhurried, deliberate, dipping to his collarbone as a low hum settled in his chest at the sound he drew from him. He didn’t rush it. Didn’t need to. There was a certain satisfaction in taking his time, in letting the tension build rather than breaking it all at once.
With an easy shift of strength, he turned them, guiding Venti onto his back beneath him, the movement smooth, controlled. The morning air brushed against them where fabric had shifted, but Varka barely noticed — not when his focus remained entirely on the man beneath him. His own clothes were becoming a problem, that much was certain, but for now… he had no intention of rushing past this.
He wanted to hear him beg. Not out of cruelty, but because Venti always turned it into something sweeter — something that lingered long after.
His gaze dropped over him, taking in the sight of his shirt hanging loose over Venti’s frame, the way it slipped just enough to be distracting. Dangerous, even. A faint smirk pulled at his lips, his hair still tousled from sleep, shirt half open where it had been tugged loose.
❝ You’re going to make a habit of stealing my clothes, aren't you? ❞ he murmured, voice roughened by sleep, threaded with something warmer beneath it.
He leaned down again, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips this time, just enough to feel the breath he pulled from him before easing back only slightly, close enough that their foreheads almost brushed.
❝ Oh, I certainly will… ❞ he replied softly, the promise sitting heavier now.
His hand slipped beneath the fabric of the shirt, fingers tracing along bare skin with practiced familiarity, finding every place he knew would draw a reaction, every subtle shift of breath, every quiet sound. He didn’t rush — instead letting each touch linger just enough to send a deliberate shiver through him, to keep him right on the edge of wanting more.
His other hand settled at Venti’s hip, steady, grounding, though the grip tightened just slightly at the way he moved beneath him.
❝ Careful… ❞ Varka murmured, low and almost amused, though there was an edge to it now, something heavier beneath the warmth. ❝ You’re asking for more than you think you can handle this early. ❞
Ever since a great half of the Expedition got to return in the comforts of Mondstadt, namely Cardinal Seamus himself, work has gotten to be slower for Dahlia. Its really a load off his shoulders these days, after getting swamped with personal workload and responsibilities in the Church for 5 years, no matter how differently Time pass by for the deacon.
Now was the time to be grateful for these slow days.
He gets to be out & about more often, despite not minding office work and-
His thoughts crumble when so much as being tugged over but it doesn't come off as too surprising nor did Dahlia forgot the presence of divinity, what followed on the other hand certainly suceeded in bringing back the centuries old being away from the clouds, so to speak.
As is decreed hm?.
By all means, he has no complaints whatsoever; for his god willed it so.
There is a contemplative hum, & he'd go as far as reaching out for where Venti's hands rested, moving them lower, away from his cheeks. This isn't the refute being cradled at the face or anything, not with how idly, reverently fingers interlocks with the other's.
Then, Dahlia's expression shifts to that of amusement.
Playing?
''Oh?'', feigned surprise, ever the dramatic.
''And what games are we playing this time around?'', or perhaps the real question was; where are we going.
Symbol RP Meme. (Kiths Ahoy!). // Accepting. (Selective)
@windheard - 💋 / pretend i sent this from venti 😭. @ dahlia.
Alright, okay, maybe he should have watched how many drinks is too much till all sense of clarity comes collapsing but its difficult for Dahlia to feel anything in terms of drunkness, if he doesn't push past a certain limit.
And alright, so what if that same limit to speak of, kind of reached another kind of craving.
Inviting someone home for drinks is one thing, sure but Dahlia, in his not so lucid state of mind, searched at something a little more delectable, purely meant for a night creature like the deacon. Before long that lips are met, there is not the slightest hint of reluctance and he's already gone for the bite.
Pulling at Venti's bottom lip somewhere along the way, drunk of out his mind or not, he'd always will deem that metallic sensation of shared as nothing short of the sweetest of wines.
After what felt like a breathless moment between the two, Dahlia eventually does pull away, unapologetic at the sight of crimson smearing either of them.
He looked so pretty like that.
A little dazed from the taste just now, far from the alcohol alone, Dahlia's lips shudders, pleasantly so and oh how is he itching for more, to decorate divinity as though rain has become blood.
Hmm, should he say something?, probably but as things are now, words clearly failed to spilt forth.
Vacation! 𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔞 tasted the word on her tongue and really savoured it. She loved her work, she loved being a general - except any paperwork that came with it - but now that the Abyss was pushed back and the war over, she could catch up on aaaaaall the free time she'd sacrificed to her duties and training in the past. Hopefully her stupid brother wouldn't forget to water her garden properly. ..... Maybe she should've asked Ororon instead. Oh well, she wasn't here to be worried, she was here to have fun. The most fun ever!
Humming, she walked up the various ramps leading to the Me & Dew on Tete Island; in her humble opinion the best island in the Easybreeze Holiday Resort. Full of dancing, music and booze. Just what she was in for! It wasn't the first time she was here since her fellow Natlanese started building it, but the first time after completion. Somehow, the wind seemed much cooler this time around; the perfect breeze to ease her sunkissed skin that was heating up so easily under the scorching sun.
At the top of the last few stairs to the bar, she closed her eyes and felt the wind pull at her hair for a moment, a few strands getting tangled in her golden headpiece. Good thing she liked bringing a small brush around with her so she could detangle them later. It was always easier to do it inbetween instead of just once a day. She learned that while growing up on the cliffs of the Flower-Feather Clan; it was always windy there and it was important to her that her crimson locks were always soft and shiny.
A few steps further, she dove into the shade. She liked this place during the day, it had an amazing view of the ocean and really good drinks. For the nights, she would go dancing around the Dance-Off Stage in her bikini, in and out of the surrounding water. She was already excited for it. Looking around, she saw a few familiar faces and greeted them with a wave, before her eyes settled on a green silhouette sitting at the circular bar in the middle of the platform. Wait a second - wasn't that?
With springy steps, she approached the person and leaned onto the wooden bar next to him, her face proped up on her palm. "Hey there." A wide smile formed on her lips and her blue eyes shone with curiosity. "Aren't you Mavuika's friend from Mondstadt? The bard? And you name was uhhh...." Sera looked him over, trying to remember. Mavuika had mentioned it to her, but she couldn't recall it. "...Ehm, what was it again?"
"Anyway!" Without waiting for an invite, she sat down right next to him and ordered an Aphimead for herself. "I heard you're quite the hard-drinking fellow. I like the mead here, but I don't think I've had anything from Mondstadt just yet. What's your favorite?"
