BETTER TO REIGN IN HELL THAN SERVE IN HEAVEN

Head propped up on his hand, Ajax regards Zhongli with a contemplative, curious air. “You know, you’ve always been willing to indulge me when we’ve been intimate, no matter what it is that I wished to try. But what about you?”

and so, he simply continues eating as though he has not a care in the world, the whole of his focus seemingly settled on the particularly delightful bowl of freshly fried rice in his hands when ajax's question, at last, slices through.

ah, that. he hmph's a quiet laugh to himself before quickly, gracefully, setting his half-eaten side-dish aside, finally meeting the other man's eyes just as he leans forward, lacing his fingers together. his own eyes widen slightly, then—

even without trying, to him, ajax is... well, beautiful.

it's hardly a strange question, zhongli thinks. and quite frankly, he's somewhat surprised it has never been posed before now. he chooses to answer it two-fold. " i enjoy indulging you. " he begins, stating the simple truth. " and i have had countless lifetimes to try an equally uncountable number of things, as you well know. " allowing the man to test both his bounds and the edges of his tastes was, truly, a pleasure in itself.

curiosity, after all, was certainly one of the things that made humans— well, human. and zhongli delighted in it and in witnessing it in a way so close, so personal.

" that said... " he continued, knowing so simple an answer would never suffice. " perhaps that which i desire most from you is the art of surprise. i enjoy a great many things; but, you are often unpredictable in your passions. that you continue to take me by surprise is a feat in and of itself, to be sure. do not underestimate that particular talent."

in truth, he quite liked being worn down, pulled along, by the other man's current, as though he were a river rock, shaped by his time with this young, wild man. of course, he too enjoyed trying to catch the other off-guard from time to time. and so, he tries his hand at that now, adding one last anecdote as he returns his attention to his meal.

Even so, he does wonder what urges or passing fancies Zhongli entertains that might surprise him — what things he might wish for that Ajax has never even thought of.

The first answer he receives strokes his heartstrings, stokes his pride, and leaves him with almost nothing to work with. It is no small measure of maddening given that he was fishing for something in particular to indulge Zhongli in, and yet,‘to indulge you’ brings a suffusing warmth to his chest that makes him feel seen in a manner that he cannot quite pinpoint.

The second answer, well…

 “‘Surprise’ isn’t quite the response I was looking for, no, but it’s an appreciated one nonetheless.” He grins and leans back to rest his head on his fist once more, gaze flickering over Zhongli’s form despite its faraway focus, less a rakish glance-over than a moment where one can see the calculations ripple behind his eyes.

It’s not as if he’s never inquired before, but the question has always been phrased as a ‘what do you want, Zhongli?’, ‘what would you have of me?’, or ‘ohh, you want that, hmmm?’ often when they’re already occupied with hands on buttons and fingers raking through hair, or in the honey-thick moments when their desire pulls against and towards one another with a terrible, inescapable gravity.

Surprise is one thing — one he very much intends to keep going, even when he wasn’t particularly aware of doing so beforehand, so eh, roll as he goes — but the other is… notable.

“Public,” Ajax breathes, and oh, that admission sparks coals low in his gut that he hadn’t realized were there to begin with. He banks them deliberately, but even so, the slow, wide grin and suddenly feral air of his gaze stands testament to the maelstrom of ideas churning up to the forefront of his mind. “Can’t say I’ve had any tendency to be subtle, so I’ll have to ask you to narrow that down a little further, xiansheng.”

He picks up his teacup with a little swirl, mischievous delight and more than a little heated interest evident as he takes a sip. “More subtle claims, like that hair clasp of ruby and white gold I’ve seen you wear on occasion?

“Maybe the more hidden kind, where you consciously keep the marks that I’ve left on you below your collar while the people around you walk past, carelessly oblivious to the physical evidence of my touch?

“Or perhaps,” he says, raising the teacup to his lips with nonchalant grace, “one day I should keep you detained before we head off to work and afterwards hear how long it took before you relaxed and started leaking my come?

“Though perhaps I should ignore all of that and bend you over the railing of the Baiju Guesthouse to see what kind of noise you make when your face is bared for all of Chihu Rock to see as you find your pleasure against the brilliant silhouette of Liyue Harbor’s lights, a dark shadow of need and greed splayed against this singular balcony where all in the city know the Harbinger takes his rest?”

Ajax leans halfway across the table, plucks up Zhongli’s hand, and his lips alight on the tendons of that wrist, thick and apparent against the scholar-thin forearms Zhongli sports in this appearance. 

still, he can't seem to entirely shake the twinge of anxiety he feels, waiting for someone he's never met. and while he trusts his friend, of course— that isn't it!— he's still... learning how to be a human, to be normal, after all. and perhaps, a part of him, however small, is beginning to wonder if he'll ever really fit in.

the weather, at least, in nod krai is pleasant enough if cool. and he's grateful that he hasn't been sent to snezhnaya proper as he's not entirely sure he has the right wardrobe for that trip yet. just as he draws in a deep breath of the cool, sweet air, he hears footsteps behind him. and he turns, bright eyes wide, to meet the harbinger he's been promised... whoever he is.

Pressure-sense of a figure at the end of the dock aside, the immense concentration of abyssal power resonates against his bones like struck crystal. It glimmers beneath an iron veil, beneath restraint, rather than emanating out to affect the world, but the power is not hidden.

It says something about Nod-Krai that this scene remains so peaceful, Ajax thinks, when a display so brazen would have brought the entire population of adepti howling down upon his head the moment he stepped foot in Liyue.

The person — boy? — absently kicking their feet over the water turns to look as Ajax approaches, their movements betraying the unconscious awkwardness of a teen or young man that still hasn’t grown into his limbs — of which he has six. Wings tucked up beneath the stranger’s ribs twitch, a living twilight gradient that Ajax first took to be part of his coat before he saw them move.

"Guess what I have..." Ajax dangles the bag before himself, swaying it back and forth in impish temptation. The Harbinger grins, sidling up with a friendly bump of his shoulder, and opens the bag for him to see.

Inside is flour, a jar of deep orange egg yolks, and smaller parcels of what sound and move like beans or nuts when jostled. Alongside these tilts a slab of wood with three meticulously carved cavities.

"Stuff for mooncakes," Ajax says, as if any explanation is needed. "Lotus and red bean and that kind with the nuts that I remember you liking the last time I was here for the mid-autumn festival. Wuren, yeah?

"I always wanted to try my hand at making some myself, so—" He tilts his head, smile smaller but bright with earnest anticipation. "—come bake with me. This is an important holiday for Liyue, and I want to celebrate properly."

these two continue to disgust me!!

in truth, it is the last thing he had expected to see— ajax loitering outside of the funeral parlor, waiting for him, a clear spark of mischief in his eyes, grinning.

death, of course, did not care whether or not it was a holiday. and so, zhongli had volunteered to hold things down, thereby allowing hu tao to get a head start on enjoying the day's festivities, a reprieve well-deserved. and he hardly minded; after all, he'd lived to see thousands of mid-autumn festivals before. yet even so, he cannot help but feel a flash of excitement upon seeing ajax standing there, seemingly so pleased with himself.

it doesn't take long to correctly infer what's in the bag he's holding.

and zhongli dutifully follows it with his eyes as its teasingly waved back-and-forth before him. for a moment, he'd considered reaching out and snatching it, playful, though he's grateful he'd refrained as its happily opened for him.

he smiles at the word mooncakes, though the ingredients list— to him, at least— makes the plan perfectly obvious. and he glances up, surprised and pleased in equal measure, at the mention of the less-popular wuren-flavor.

ajax had remembered; it was, indeed, his favorite.

" if we're to do this properly, it will take some time, you know... " he begins, intentionally feigning a measure of consideration. a moment later, he returns a playful grin. " thankfully, i happen to be free of today's obligations. i hope you don't have any other plans this evening... ? "

“Nope, my schedule is clear. Luckily, my boss here in Liyue is quite generous, and more than willing to spare little ol’ me from any overtime,” he says, giving Zhongli a cheeky wink, “so we can give these mooncakes all the time and attention they deserve.” 

In truth, he hadn’t needed to excuse himself out of much, either — his standing troop numbers in Liyue had remained relatively steady ever since the initial de-escalation after the gnosis retrieval, Fatui presence in Inazuma was still tense but there was little at the moment to set off that particular bomb, and no one in this region had decided to egregiously piss off the Fatui in recent months.

He is free to enjoy this fleeting moment of the fall festival to his heart’s content and add another precious memory to its chambers.

my first time drawing foul legacy!! comm for @/antithesiscrow on twt

( 🌿 ) NATALYA'S HEAD TILTS upward with a smile as her middle - born left the kiss 'pon her forehead. she continues to forget just how tall her boys have grown especially him , giving him a loving squeeze to both his arms as she relents and lets him free from the hug she'd pulled him into.

❝ I'D APPRECIATE IT .. and please import upon him that running off to find you wherever you are in the world is not as good a plan as he believes , even when he takes a pack with him .. ❞ she's tried her best to drill it in that he cannot do that after the second time getting as far as the harbor.

REMINDING HIM TO clean at this juncture was the least of her problems as a mother and the more .. gentle and patient between herself and her husband. natalya's relief could only extend so far : it was potentially a matter of time til her youngest gets hurt without guidance.

RETURNING TO THE kitchen , washing her hands again 'fore beginning to focus on the lettuce that still hadn't been pealed and chopped up --- ah.

HER HANDS STILL at the question , exhaling softly as she pulled apart pieces of lettuce from the head 'fore her gaze glanced over to ajax. ❝ ITS HOW IT feels. it isn't just the smaller animals but the larger ones as well. i believe its been little over a month since i last heard a wolf howl .. ❞ her brows knit as she did her utmost to settle herself as she put her attention onto the garlic next , crushing it against the side of a knife blade prior to beginning to chop finely.

❝ PAPA ISN'T ALONE .. he's with one of your elder siblings. ❞ whether she was attempting to convince herself that they'd be fine ( despite how much the forest lately felt even less welcoming ) or ajax in general .. she wasn't even sure. the matriarch really desired to think less about it ---- the similarities between many years ago and now were too similar for comfort.

Childe was lucky that his brother hadn’t shown up in Fontaine, or the little gremlin would somehow have found a way to even sneak down into the Fortress of Meropide; he was certain of it.

“Sashko is the one with Papa, I wager?” At this, Childe’s smile doesn’t waver, and it has no reason to. If anything, his expression brightens up. Aleksandr had a knack for the boar-spear from back in their childhood and, so Childe had heard, wasn’t a slouch with the rifle once Papa had started teaching him how to shoot. With Sashko and Papa out on the hunting rounds together, there was less to worry about. Not nothing, but less.

“Then even if there are wolves or greater predators around, they should be safe. And with any luck, they’ll come back with a brace of rabbit, maybe even a few.”

Thunkthunkthunkthunkthunk-swwwwipe goes the knife, potato chunks plunking into the soup pot before the next victim hits the chopping board beneath his blade. He cocks his head when Mama mentions ‘how it feels’, though the knife does not pause.

For everything in the forest to be withdrawn at best or gone entirely… Mama hardly needs him to chime in on how bad of a sign that is.

to think that such a short statement, deceptively simple, could mean so much, could leave him so desperate for those dark, blue eyes to glance back up and meet his own, could leave him so beautifully, wonderfully speechless.

and it is almost strange to him, how dangerously close to romantic it feels, holding the attention of someone who despite himself and his public facade, here and now, is so utterly genuine, honest.

as you are now—

even without the gentle thumbing at his nipple— rousing, and doubly so when coupled with the brush of his silks against him— the words alone would likely have been enough to draw a still-human growl from his throat. and he allows himself to be pulled down, in slightly, by the hand clinging to his shirt, receives that kiss with an almost relieved exhale.

his eyes close as he listens, then. and he finds himself grinning, forcing an exhale as he briefly imagines his undoing as each respective iteration of himself. how curious it is, he thinks, to be so... wanted, though it is not as if he is unaware that he is beautiful, of course. it is simply that, beneath those words, there's something that he cannot quite name, something else that only heightens that desire, that want.

he is taller, of course, and far more lithe in this form, meant to be a bridge between a proper dragon and the humans he imitates yet neither true, a comfortable balance. as such, he is not necessarily larger, simply sleeker, longer, his features ethereal yet exaggerated. and in ages past, in the time of warring gods, he might have even appeared frightening.

but not here, not now, not with him— this man wants him just as he is, the sincerity in those eyes alone enough to pin morax down and still him completely. when did this happen? when did he become so weak for this man?

the thought is interrupted as he is pulled into a kiss, a gasp of a breath leaving him as that tongue meets his. he searches for something hold then, his long fingers easily finding their way into the man's shirt— just as tartaglia's tongue finds its way into his mouth, forcing its way in.

this time when he is coaxed forward, morax follows readily, the tips of his teeth dragging over his freshly-bitten lips. and his eyes widen, brighten, as his question is then answered a second time. and he listens, watches, this answer with great interest.

it is obvious to him when tartaglia swallows exactly what it is he's picturing, his gaze briefly distant. and in turn, morax takes a moment to do the same, considers it, before his expression shifts into a narrow-eyed, wild grin.

" how thorough. " he replies with a huff of a laugh, low. and this time, he takes the initiative. he gracefully turns them both around, hands still tight to tartaglia's shirt as he guides him... until he is able to sit down at the edge of the bed.

he doesn't let go even once settled, instead choosing to gently tug at his shirt, pulling him closer, his bright, golden eyes moving over him until, at last, he finds tartaglia's gaze again.

i... i still want to know you—

“Well then, if there are other forms you favor, such as those that the authors of Rex Incognito tell, then show me that range, and we’ll see how thoroughly my taste extends.”

Ice and love and stars above, but Ajax is thinking in that matter of Zhongli even in a distinctly nonhuman appearance, and cannot deny the fact that he would intimately grapple Morax in the god’s might as his Exuvial form, in whatever heavenly and lordlike power he embodied when presenting as the Archon, in something perhaps even as unknown and alien as his own Abyssal shape, as—

Tartaglia distracts himself from all of those tantalizing, malleable fantasies with the actuality of the divine flesh beneath his fingers.

And with actuality, of course, rise the remembrance of his own limitations.

It’s been… what, over a year? longer? since he’s had sex with anyone, and far, far longer since he’s bedded someone that mattered. Yet despite being woefully out of practice with anyone or anything other than his own hand, he will make this good for Morax. So good, so memorable, so exhilarating that he cannot help but want for more. Want for him.

The god seats himself back upon the bed with an easy grace that belies the eagerness of his grip on Tartaglia’s shirt — loose enough to still appear modest and serene, sure enough that the Harbinger can neither mistake his intent nor the strength that could tear the whole garment from him with barely a tug.

At Morax’s demand, Tartaglia barks out a delighted, grinning laugh. “As you say.” 

He dives in, following the guide of Morax’s pull down to meet him with all the forceful intent of his claymore colliding with that molecule-matrixed shield array. Tartaglia leans in with his weight on one knee between Morax’s warm thighs and he wraps long umber hair around his hand, pulling back to sting the scalp and bare the throat as he kisses Morax with all the fervor and fanaticism that he pours into his self-improvement.

His square-palmed hand splays across Morax’s belly before twisting and sliding down towards his groin and hip, his fingertips parted and mapping over the unblemished skin with a hunger to discover every inch of the Adeptus’ body by touch. When the two of them finally part for breath, Tartaglia’s shudders ever so slightly as his thumb carves through the valley between Morax’s hip and lower torso.

“But what would you say to me kissing you elsewhere, too,” he murmurs between their heated lips, making as if to kiss down Morax’s shapely jaw towards his ear, but instead he deviates to mouth warm and messy at the base of one golden antler, then once more at the tip of its closest prong.

( 🌿 ) HER WARM LAUGHTER fills the home while her gaze softens. its not often that her busy boy comes home , especially when little could stop him from entering or vocal dislike of him staying. her heart aches for him to stay but she knows. he's home not because he could possibly stay long but because Her Majesty had called him home.

❝ AT LEAST MY ajik remembers , hm ? you must do the same for teucer , he constantly forgets despite my reminders. ❞ her voice is warm as she returns the hug that her son gives , enveloped by not just his arms but by his height as well. upon the break and his movement more into the house she steps aside , hands still holding the apron she'd been in the middle of putting on before his appearance at the front door.

COMPLETING THE ACTION of tying around her she nods , ❝ YOU SHOULD. I said the same when he left earlier but you know .. can't stop him when he puts his mind to something. most of the men in this family take that from him i suppose but ah .. yes. rabbit would seem more apt than venison --- there's been less of them around lately for some reason. ❞ the woods had felt .. more unwelcome than usual lately and with the families poor record of what lurks within she wanted little to do with it.

OUT OF SIGHT out of mind .. hopefully.

❝ MUCH APPRECIATED. I would appreciate your help --- it'll go so much quicker with an extra pair of hands. ❞

“After all,” he chuckles as he shakes out his heavy coat and hangs it on a peg, all others in the row empty save for his mother’s, “you even managed to wrangle Taras into a habit of keeping things clean, and he was even more prone to daydreams and being scatterbrained back when we were young, if I remember rightly.”

He remembers well the vegetable basics of the family red-meat stew recipe: mushrooms, potatoes, onions, garlic, cabbage — though not in that order, of course. As he rolls up his shirtsleeves and enters the kitchen with her, he can see that much of the potato and carrot peeling is already done; Childe plucks a knife from the wall hanger, tests its edge, and sets about chunking the potatoes into large, rough cubes when he finds the blade acceptably sharp.

( 🎠 ) IT NEAR APPEARED that stars shone in the young ginger haired boy's eyes from the amount of sheer excitement as he holds fast on his older brother's sleeve as he jumped up and down , laughter like music to ones ears. ❝ YAY ! YOU'RE THE best big brother ever ! i promise to stay awake the the entire time and help with fishing and catch sooooo many fish , just you wait ! ❞ he refuses to believe that he'll fall asleep ( again ) like the last time he and ajax or his papa had gone out ice fishing so early in the morning. if he goes to sleep super early and then wakes up when he should .. he shouldn't be sleepy even after sawing into all the ice.

( TRUTHFULLY HE HAD really wanted his big brother to be the one to take him on an adventure such as this. papa was fun and all but .. his seriousness was not as fun and he couldn't mess around. )

THE YOUNGEST NODS at speed as his brother stood up , moving like a young fox excited to continue a source of play or ready to chase something uniquely fascinating. the child smiles wide as his gloved hand reached out to take his elder brother's and shaking it in agreement.

❝ YEAH ! I'LL GET the tackle box and the rods and the augur ! ❞ he'd only be able to carry the first two but .. the attempt to get all three was a sure genuine attempt --- the boy already turning to trot off to get tackle box first as that was one of the more easiest things to grab.

Ajax, on the other hand, goes to retrieve those things that he hadn’t listed for his brother, such as food, which they’d want to bring along on principle but especially because Teucer was still a growing boy. His stomach would be growling around breakfast, no matter how early they set out.

Ajax putters around the kitchen collecting a few snacks — rye bread, a lump of cheese, tough salted meat, and a generous double handful of dried mushrooms — before searching out the pyro heater. It’s a piece much like a cylindrical lantern, one that lit when a person twisted the top and pulled it up to a locked position, both revealing the heating coils that warmed the immediate area and bringing the pyro crystal into contact with whatever machinations activated it in the first place.

For all that Snezhnayans are used to the cold, none living now is stupid enough to underestimate its danger.

Teucer comes back into the room with tackle box in hand and awkwardly lugging the big manual augur on his shoulder. More than once, Ajax had offered to bring back one of the new augur tools powered by an electro crystal, but their father had refused — ostensibly due to tradition, but probably because he steadfastly refused to have anything to do with items bought by his middle son’s ‘lavish’ sendings back to his family.

Even the medicine that Ajax’s salary pays for are only accepted because Ilya’s wife and the rest of his children insist.

And so, a manual augur he and Teucer are saddled with, the wide flute of the drill shape both sharp and heavy on Teucer’s shoulder as he hefts it off alongside the other tools that Ajax sent him to collect.

This is one of the idiosyncrasies of Snezhnaya: even Dragonspine’s ice didn’t grow so quickly. Where a Mondstadter might cut a fishing hole on a mountain lake that could last the length of a month or even the whole winter, in Snezhnaya, any drilled hole through the ice here would seal itself in a week, if even that. Such is the basic, rudimentary influence of the Cryo Archon on their nation.

There will always be ice.

"I should hope your schedule is blocked in for the next week at least to say 'healing'. However, your time is your business." And Etienne won't pry where his concern is not needed. Unless Tartaglia's schedule directly affects Fontaine, he cannot imagine that the Harbinger wants the Chief Justice digging into his affairs, even out of polite curiosity. "I trust you will recover, for your duties to Her Majesty, and for our duel.

The soft smile he has worn thus far shifts back into neutrality as Tartaglia changes the subject, the title firmly settling the air into something more serious. They have had their lighter conversation, they have agreed upon the duel that Tartaglia wants, Etienne has checked on his condition.

Etienne leans back slightly in his chair, fingers clasped around his knee, gaze locked upon the other man. Oh, but there is much he could say, things he does not understand and seeks clarity on, things he does not think are appropriate for people such as them - not friends, not enemies, intertwined deeper than acquaintances if only for the wrongdoing enacted upon Tartaglia while in Fontaine.

The things that Etienne has thought about but does not think he could bring up to anyone.

His lips press into a thin line as he considers the other man. Of course he knows why he is here. It is something he should have done sooner, truth be told, even if the weight of everything happening in Fontaine - including Tartaglia's strange disappearance - had kept him from doing so.

"I did, truly, want to make sure you are alright. You were injured within Fontaine's borders, I could not in good conscience allow anything to keep myself from checking in.

"And I owe you an apology. My actions with the Oratrice should not have been delayed as they were. Had they not been, you would not have wound up where you did." That may have been a part of Focalors' plan: Provide a false charge against one who could fight against the narwhal, placing them in a place to do just that. It does not matter if it was destined or faulty equipment or Focarlors; the fact is, Tartaglia received a guilty verdict and was injured because of it.

He believes Neuvillette when the judge says that he honestly does wish to ascertain how well the Harbinger’s recuperation is progressing. To have the only instance where the Iudex disagreed with the judgement of the Oratrice turn out like this—

Well. The repercussions of his fight with the star-whale are hardly Neuvillette’s doing, but the man’s lack of intercession during the determination of that farce of a trial did eventually lead to this—

Really, he should thank him.

But.

If you make a mistake, you apologize.

Yes, actions speak louder than words, but sometimes words are necessary. There have been moments in Ajax’s life where his temper and emotions combined overrode his acceptance of an apology, but this is not one of them. Neuvillette offers this admission with official — but more importantly, genuine — remorse, and there is a not immeasurable sense of validation that washes over Tartaglia as he breathes out, tracing the condensation on his cup.

His memory courses back as his eyes shutter — not to the moment when Fontaine’s justice machine declared him guilty, not to the moment when the overwhelming flashfire pain of his transformation was interrupted by a blow too swift for even him to react to, but to the stilled air of his holding cell when the Chief Justice’s composure broke to reveal his repressed, honest frustration.

Baited frustration, certainly, but only what was already roiling within the judge to begin with.

“Your apology is accepted.” His dark eyes flick open. “But understand; I do not offer any apology in return for my actions or behaviour, disruptive as they may have been. If you need an official statement from a foreign national on record, we can work that out, but, affording you this honesty as myself—”

( 🎠 ) THE EXCITEMENT WAS plain on the younger's face with the big grin and shine in his eyes growing even brighter as he all but bounced in place and tugged at his brother's sleeve. he wasn't rough by any means , if anything he was rather playful as he progressed his spirited actions -- no doubt a far cry from the energy he'd likely have in a few hours against what he promised.

❝ I CAN HANDLE it i swear ! i'll prove it to you ! i'll stay awake the whole time , honest ! ❞ a voiced truth that no doubt would be broken later on ; thankfully nothing too serious that a failure of truth would pose no harm. his desperation upon his face sat clear as day upon his face 'fore perking at the acceptance of him coming along.

THE YOUNGER'S NOSE scrunched up at the mention of him having to go to bed early tonight . . but if it meant he could go with ajax in the morning ( early early as he says ) and spend time with him but also help with the fishing . . then it was something he would have to do. ❝ UM . . YEAH. it sounds fair ! as long as i get to spend time with you and help tomorrow then i'll do whatever ! ❞

“I believe you, and I’ll hold you to it.” Well, he’ll hold Teucer to that promise to a certain extent — waking early, amongst all the rest, but after that, he’ll push his little brother only to a point, fully anticipating that Teucer’ll tip against his side completely asleep not too long after they’ve gotten through the rigorous activity of sawing through the thick lake ice.

Ajax himself did much the same when Papa first took him out ice fishing. By striding out before sunrise tomorrow with his brother, he steals that first fishing trip of Teucer’s from their father. The very thought of such theft pains him. Even so, he cannot regret taking this experience for himself. It will be the only time he does so, and both his reward and his penance will be in the form of a memory that he carries dear.

@inhumanheresy \ mother mother.

( 🌿 ) CONCERN CONTINUED TO hang heavy on the matriarch as she took silent note of the hint that plagued her third son , as much as he did his utmost to hide it from the world around him. a mother knows , especially after a long hiatus of being a proper present mother figure in the lives of most of her children. it's been complicated , especially with ajax himself but they've come so far that all is well in the end.

NATALYA LETS OUT a soft chuckle while rolling her eyes as the shorter of the two accepts the hug , giving her third eldest a gentle squeeze 'fore she looked up to him and shook her head. ❝ NO NEED TO apologize , my boy .. i simply would've cleaned up a little more if I knew you were coming by --- but no , your father left but ten minutes ago to catch us some dinner. teucer and tonia went out to play with their friends .. you'll find him before you go off again hm ? he'll be upset if he misses you, ❞ she's relieved that the air in the home would not become stifling with her husband's distrust of ajax's appearance , already moving out of the front door's entryway to allow her boy entry inside.

Ajax hugs her tight, sinking into the warmth and her love and the simple closeness of an embrace. The part of him that remembers these hugs always forgets that he’s long been an adult, and is always surprised at how easily he can sling his arms around her. He supposes he'll always feel that way.

“Leaving at this time? Should I lay my bet on venison then, or rabbit?” His tone and smile are cheerful but he doubts that he’ll still be around whenever Papa hauls back the day’s dinner. Midday is the worst time for ice fishing — Papa taught him as much years ago — so Childe bets that he’s gone to walk the snare route. 

It’s for the best, really.