time is like music

[ ✖ ] TIMEISLIKEMUSIC. ⋯ a hc-influenced multimuse roleplay blog featuring characters from Link Click. ( mun is 21+ , indie , semi-selective )

affiliations: 𖤓 ☾ blog roll: tbhx mumu , tbhx queen , tbhx hero x , bsd mumu ( semi-ia )

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎     more info under the cut . . .

The objective is to go completely mobile-friendly, so no more custom theme! ( This means I need to move all my pages into posts... yikes. ) I also want to refine my tagging system, fix aesthetics, and probably make a new promo? Maybe for all my blogs?

See, back when my mental health was subpar, I soft-blocked a lot of chatty-ooc accounts who never actually interacted with me, since I was so overwhelmed... This especially happened on my TBHX blogs, which were newer at the time, and I regret not trying harder to foster connections in the rpc. Gonna put a better foot forward from here!

Glasses reflect Vein’s flashlight, two small moons in the dark. Liu Xiao raises an arm to cover his face and shield his eyes. His book shuts around his thumb, a makeshift placeholder. Beneath him is a blanket. The city noise fades around here, accompanied by the flutter of nocturnal wings and chittering insects; it’s the perfect spot.

He found it by accident. A note to return to later bled into a routine he rather enjoys. He prefers this. The night. The chill. The dark. It’s only you, Vein had said. Liu Xiao furrows his brows in almost-annoyance. Only you. That might be ruder than the bright light.

“ …I was reading, ” he says. As if it explains everything. It should, he thinks. Vein’s smart.

Still. He tips his chin toward his side. Dimly, a solar-charged lamp flickers by his thigh, its glow barely visible. Yellowish warmth illuminates little more than a page at a time. The moonlight may be more productive — but again, he prefers this.

“ You skipped dinner. ” Not a question. Why else would Vein be out here, tracking him down by the phantom scent of spring rolls? “ I’m sorry to disappoint, ” he says, but he sounds peeved by Vein’s lacking poker face. “ You can’t eat me. ”

What parts of a soul die to survive childhood? Liu Xiao’s feet hang above the bedroom floor. Sheets cradle his back from where he pushed them aside. Hair mussed, eyes bleary. A phantom stands at the edge of his bed and stares at him — through him — but he reaches out all the same. There’s a chill as he stretches forward, shirt falling across his collarbones.

What does it mean to be dead? An absence of thought? An absence of breathing? It’s the heartbeat Liu Xiao seeks. His fingers dip over the pulse point in Vein’s neck, sensation echoing the drum he already heard. For a short while, it was completely silent. So then: what can be resurrected? All of it? None of it? Half of a whole?

Nothing ever dies. Not completely. Dormant, frozen, or merely sleeping; Liu Xiao has a knack for embracing skeletons and guiding them back into flesh. Li Tianchen was once dead in mourning. Now, he’s invigorated by it. If Tianchen were an instrument, then Liu Xiao is his maestro. The definitions with Vein are far more complicated.

Logic readies to meet emotion. Of course, this is living. But there are fingers taut around Liu Xiao’s wrist. He inhales an almost-wince, sharp yet muffled by a grit of his teeth. The pain does not wake him so much as the intensity in Vein’s eyes. His hand goes limp in that firm hold.

“ I am not, ” he admits. He can lie to everyone else. Vein was right. Liu Xiao swallows, drags his attention from the bruising ache, and corrects his tone. Less heady. Less small. “ But do you really think that’s all you are? ” A toy waiting to be used, broken, and tossed? “ Please— ” He lolls his head, narrows his gaze, frowns in rightful irritation. “ Do not discredit my choice in allies. ”

It’s a precarious position. A vulnerable one. Sat on the bed while Vein remains standing; in pajamas with no hat or glasses. Offended is his expression. Tired is his gaze. There’s a redness under his lashes and a glossy sheen to purple hues. He tugs not to free himself, but to dare Vein even closer.

" if i didn't know better, i'd think you take some measure of delight in irking me. " he loosens his grip, threading his fingers between his. another night alone under the stars, away from prying eyes - a moment of respite from castle life. prince xia fei's pleasant smile, cheeky and smug, spreads wider, " you set foot here uninvited, then you will not leave until i say so. " guides liu xiao's arms around his waist. " sunrise won't be here for a while. stay. " he's too proud to admit the loneliness stings, so he expresses it the only way he knew how.

Ah, the nerve of this heart. Xia Fei dismisses it, but he is not wrong: delight comes from all manner of irritation, and Liu Xiao lacks shame.

A loosened grip invites one hand into another. Liu Xiao glides the pad of his thumb over the prince’s knuckles. Soft skin meets the practiced callouses of a mage. There is no one out to see them tonight save for the stars.

It’s for the best. If the sun ventured out, it would sour at the sight of Xia Fei’s smile. There is someone brighter, someone stronger, someone so vibrant he puts all lights in the sky to shame. Gold-spun hair and rosy cheeks. Envy is unsurprising.

Liu Xiao exhales a sound not quite a laugh when instructed to stay. He planned to with or without an order, but he will never dissuade reminders of how much he’s wanted. Xia Fei guides him to hold his waist; so he does, drawing royalty into an embrace, nuzzling their foreheads together.

“ I will always grant your wishes, ” he promises. There is a reason he studies so astutely. Ink under his nails, paper cuts on his palms; he has read more tomes than he can count. He could claim he craves knowledge. Wit is power. The information he retains places him above the common folk. Noblemen seek him to solve their problems, and because of it, he is well-off.

Truth be told, all mortal possessions in the world would dim beside the treasure in his arms. He’s not the only one who thinks so. Cupping Xia Fei’s face, Liu Xiao pulls back to examine the sight of fiery eyes and soft lashes. What a gem. What a joy. To have. To hold. To keep. He brushes their noses together as he leans in, tenderly kissing Xia Fei’s cheek.

[ ✖ ] Munday Questions !

🫶 What makes you feel most appreciated as an RP partner?

I'm really easy to please lol. I absolutely eat up OOC chatter and yelling at each other, as you know. Spammed fanart is a big love language of mine. Shared playlists, random headcanons, "saw this and thought of you"... Makes my heart sing.

✨ What’s your favourite thing about your muse(s)? ( QL and LX! )

Already gave a brief overview in another ask, but for those two in particular...

✨ What’s your favourite thing about your muse(s)?

[ ✖ ] Munday Questions !

🎭 What’s your favourite genre to roleplay (angst, fluff, horror, etc.)?

I love almost everything. Fluffy found family? Yes. Angsty romance? Absolutely. Lore-heavy mysteries? Sign me up. I'm not fond of pure action scenes, though, and horror has always been harder to write. For romances, too, I need slow burn. I can't have it any other way. Instalove isn't for me.

✨ What’s your favourite thing about your muse(s)?

[ ✖ ] Munday Questions !

🌙 Have you ever stayed up way too late just to reply?

I try so hard not to, but. Yes. For you, in fact, as just one example lol. When I start writing late, I can't stop until I'm done, so if the reply takes a while, it is what it is. I have a hard time finally falling asleep, too, because the muses are still On The Brain. Oopsies. When I have enough sense, I edit everything the next day so it doesn't read too poorly. That counts for something, I hope.

🎁 What’s a random fun fact about you (the mun)?

Ah, if it isn’t Othello! Liu Xiao rests a palm on the barrel of Jae Lee’s gun — still warm — but does not swat it aside. His head leans closer, hair rustling, smile widening. Faith braves the ice. “ I did not take you for a romantic, ” he says. He means: you’re well-read. You’re honey-tongued. Aim at a sinner, never at a mirror; poeticism varnished white.

He raps his index finger against the gun. The metal of his rings produces a gentle click. “ You’re hardly asking, though. ” More like telling. It makes sense. Hunters would never think twice before sinking teeth into the neck of their prey. Jae Lee, however, has done just that. Hesitated. Invited a question, of all things.

“ I thought they’d have trained you better. ” An apparent agent of the law should abide by several formalities. Whether Jae Lee’s compass points strictly North remains to be seen, but his curiosity, if nothing else, is palpable. That should warrant some more decorum, right? Especially against an unarmed man?