Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The frigid air of Morepesok seeped into Ajax’s clothing as he stood next to his sister at a trinket stall. Above them, clouds loom as they always had, covering the land in soft shadows. It truly is a beautiful day, and it would be more enjoyable still if the cold didn’t affect him so greatly. It seemed Liyue had left a stronger impression on him than he had realized. 

Next to him, Tonia excitedly smiles at the stall owner, reaching out eagerly for a necklace with a red gem. Its form glitters in the light; thousands of sparkles shifting like stars. It was a truly dazzling piece, and even the chain had the smallest of frost-like leaves etched into to it where they met the metal holding the gem. 

“Can I get this one?” Ah, his sister truly is adorable, and with a smile like that, there’s very little he could ever deny his precious younger sister. 

Moments later, it rests in her hands, cradled tenderly to her chest as she smiles up at him like he hung the stars in the sky. A faint weight settles in his chest. He wonders if she would look at him like that if she knew the full truth about his occupation. 

His thoughts drift to Anthon and Teucer. He wonder if they would ever look at him as they do now if they were to learn what a bad guy he truly was. He wonders if-

“Ajax! Can we go over to that stall too?” All he can do is nod.

A delicate hand grabs his, and he’s led over to an old lady’s stall. On the stand is a collection of stones and small handcrafted dolls. They are all nicely made, and the gems are all of fine quality, but he feels the slight weight in his chest finally adhere to the laws of gravity and press down on him. He feels constricted and short of breath as the realization that it’s been so long since he’s last seen his family that he can no longer decipher whether Tonia wants a doll or a shiny rock that sends his mind places he’s rather it not go. 

Last he heard from her, she had outgrown her fascination with dolls, and yet she looks at one of them, a small thing with button eyes and a beautiful green dress that goes to it’s knees, like it’s the best thing she’s seen in months. 

“Do you want the doll?” She hesitates, reaching for it only as the old lady holds it up for her to take.

Slender fingers curl gently over it. “I mustn’t. I’ve outgrown the need for dolls.”

Her voice wavers, and he doesn’t know hat to say to convince her otherwise, to convince her that she should hold onto such things for as long as she could. He doesn’t know how to say those things, how to say them tenderly enough to make her believe him, but he can try. He opens his mouth, but the elderly woman cuts in before he has the chance.

“Young lady, one can never be too old for dolls! They are more than just silly children’s toys; they’re friends for people at all ages, and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise you hear!”

Her eyes crinkle as she smiles, her fist held up as if she’s won a battle. 

“She’s exactly right, Tonia! And look, why don’t we get this one too. It looks just like you!”

He gestures to a doll with a dress similar to the previous one but with a pretty dark blue dress instead. A white scarf rests around it’s neck, and red string making up it’s hair. 

Tonia punches his arm, a giddy smile on her face as she giggles slightly. “Alright, let’s get the dolls.” 

He smiles triumphantly, handing a bag of mora over to the shop keeper with a small tip on the side. The doll is pushed into his hands, and he grins at his little sister with all the joy that threatens to burst from his chest. 

“Let’s go home now, it’s time to celebrate another safe arrival home for me.” She nods, and they head off, both content to bask in the pleasant silence surrounding them. 

Their walk home starts silent, Tonia looking at her gifts with quiet excitement. Childe himself chooses to remain silent, lamenting to himself the fact that he will need to leave soon and once again be torn from his family.

 It’s at the large pine tree with an old, worn down swing along their path that Tonia stops. 

“Ajax,” she begins, grip tightening on her gifts, “you’re going to leave again soon aren’t you?”

Guilt settles heavily in his chest. “I’m afraid so. But don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

He makes an attempt at smiling reassuringly, but the sorrow on her face ends his sorry excuse of a smile before long. A spark of determination lights in her eyes, and he watches with curiosity as she takes the doll with the blue dress and holds it out for him.

“I know that you’re always busy and that you always try to make time for us, so please take this doll. You said it looks like me right? In that case, please use it as a reminder that home it here and we’ll always wait for you here.”

The doll is a fragile thing, and so he grabs it with all the gentleness he doesn’t have and pulls his sister close to his chest when he sees the beginnings of tears trailing down her young face. 

“Thanks you, with this doll it’ll be like you’re always there since it looks so much like you. Now let’s wipe those tears away, okay? I’m here now, and we’re even having a celebration for it later!”

Tear stream down her face more quickly, and he hurries to hold her even closer. “What can this knight of yours do to help?”

She sniffs, taking a deep breath before pulling away and wiping her tears away with a hand. “You can keep sending souvenirs and letters from wherever you go.” 

Her eyes suddenly widen as something she had forgotten comes to mind. “Whatever happened to that consultant you mentioned? Did you tell him you were leaving?”

He freezes for the briefest of eternities. He didn’t want to remember the cowardly Adeptus that led him into believing he had finally found a friend before dragging his trust through the mud and leaving him to wallow in his own incompetence. 

“I did tell him.” He did not. The bothersome heaviness that had afflicted his heart when the consultant began to avoid him had a large influence on his decision, and by the time Zhongli began to approach him again, it was already too late and no battle to resolve that which had happened occurred before he was shipped back to Snezhnaya. 

“Come on Ajax, give me more details. You can’t just say, ‘I did tell him,’ you need to tell me other things too!” She pouts and Childe laughs in response. 

“Like what?”

“Like whether or not he’s hot obviously.”

“Tonia,” he says, scandalized beyond belief that she would ever be thinking about things like that. She’s too young. 

“What?” She laughs at him, and Childe though she matured since he’s last seen her, but it seems she had simply learned how to hide her immature streak better. It must have been those extra centimeters of height he supposed. 

And with that they continue on, completely forgetting that they should have gotten Anthon and Teucer toys and such while they were at the shops, but that was an issue for a later time. 

The day passes smoothly after that. The younger brothers complain, their father is gone as always, Childe’s mother hugs him tightly, and Tonia recounts the hottest gossip she found in her school. 

They belatedly celebrate his safe return, and his mother even decides the time is right to make sweets that would undoubtably leave Anthon and Teucer far too wired to ever go to bed. He helps with cooking their meals of course, and afterwards he can only bask in the presence of his family, content for he first time since his humiliating situation in Liyue.

It’s only later at night, when everyone has either been tucked in or gone to bed themselves, that Childe looks out of the window and reminisces about amber eyes and silky hair tipped in gold. It is only then that he remembers the soft smiles that he shared with a certain Adeptus that left him feeling oh so warm and safe. It is only then, in the stillness of the night, that he allows his heart to once again shatter under the weight of the love he had felt for the once who obviously didn’t even have a single ounce of compassion towards him.

 He will let it be a lesson to never again stray from his path of being a weapon of the Tsaritsa, and to always only hold his family dear to him. After all, no one else could truly love a weapon like him. 

The beady eyes of the doll Tonia gave him stare at him from where it lays in his palm. Yes, the only one’s he ever needs to care about are already beside him, and he will never forget that ever again. 

Chapter Text

When all is said and done, Childe knows that despite his exemplary performance, Signora was mocking him. He could see it in the way she looked down on him as Zhongli’s gnosis was handed to her. He observed the cruel delight on her face as his own expression soured at the realization of his true role.

 He couldn’t bare to see that haughty expression even a second longer; so, he left. He took one step and then another, never once looking back to avoid playing the role of the fool any longer than he already had. Their voices fade away, and all he can do is hope that he has enough strength left over to safely make it to his bed.

It was always like this. Every time their missions overlapped, he found himself on the receiving end of her deception. If a politician needed to be silenced, he was there. But then, behind the curtains in which he proudly stands before, she waits and waits, always observing for the best time to strike. On missions like these, he is almost aggravated to know that all the credit is hers. 

Almost.

After all, a weapon has no need to take the credit when the one who wields it is the one making every decision.

Time is lost to him as he stumbles to his temporary living arrangements. All he can feel, besides a raging bonfire of agitation, is the pain that comes from transforming into his abyssal from. It travels like sparks through his muscles, setting his nerves on fire with every step he takes. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so hasty when he knew he would still remain in a country that would inevitably despise him. 

At least, he thought he would stay, but it seems, according to Signora, that he is to go back to Snezhnaya as soon as possible. 

His vision blurs, buildings warping oddly as he begins to lose his balance. He limps to an alleyway, relieved that Signora isn’t there to put a knife in his back at the first sign of vulnerability. The last thing he sees are the sky slowly darkening and a sound almost like heels clicking against the ground before he succumbs to darkness.

“Finally crashing after an exciting day? Oh Childe, it’s no wonder this is the name you were given since you always deign to act like one.” The words are spoken with pure amusement, the owner crouching down to observe the mess he made of himself. 

A nail drags against his face, pushing aside his bangs gently. “Your dear consultant will pick you up soon. Don’t carelessly throw away this opportunity you’ve given for Snezhnaya.”

The Fair Lady’s words go unheard, but that’s of no surprise to her. Truly, becoming the eleventh’s babysitter was hardly what she had in mind when he was promoted, yet she can’t deny that it’s amusing to watch him work. 

Really, the bonds between harbingers are strained at best, and only the Tsarista can ever bring them completely together, but she can’t help the slightest warmth that comes with protecting someone so terrifyingly young for the occupation he has.

Steady footsteps sound behind her, measured and even. She pulls her hand back standing to meet the figure before her with a head held high. “I trust you can take him from here? It would be a shame to endanger your beloved country simply because you couldn’t handle a mere boy.”

“This country is no longer my own; I have since given that responsibility away, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

Her gaze turns frosty.

“Ah, yes. I will watch over Tartaglia as best I can. It would only be polite to return the help he gave me. You have my word, and so it is set in stone.”

Zhongli’s eyes glow briefly, a sign of a contract falling between them. Without another word Signora stalks away, heels clicking on the ground with every step she takes. He carefully picks the harbinger up, and in the next moment, they disappear in a shower of golden sparks. 

The home he takes him to is well-lived in, treasures cover the walls, and not a single speck of dust can be seen. However, despite the treasures it holds, it holds something far more useful in this situation. Within his cabinets, bandages and other medical supplies lay in wait, ready to be used unlike in his home in the harbor. 

Zhongli gently sets Childe down on his bed, carefully ridding him of his clothing to rub at clammy skin with a wet towel. It pains him to see the other so still, his body not even flinching from the foreign feeling of the towel ridding him of blood and grime. 

Underneath the mess he finds a plethora of marks, all presumably from the traveler’s blade. They glow red against pale skin, blemishing it with marks that will undoubtedly scar and add on to his already vast collection. Zhongli can already imagine the day they fully heal and become more pale marks that paint a story he’d rather not witness on someone he holds so dear. 

The consultant purses his lips, taking out a needle and preparing to stitch the other’s deeper wounds. The faintest urge to protect Childe and keep him here in his abode forever, safe from any harm, rises in his chest the longer he spends stitching him up. But he knows of Tartaglia’s duty. He knows of such a thing more intimately than anyone else can claim, and so he understands that this feeling he feels must always be kept close to his chest, especially if he earns the man’s forgiveness. 

In the meantime, he’ll stand by his side, protecting him as much as he’s allowed. Though, should he be cast aside, Zhongli knows, despite how embarrassing it may make him feel, that he would eagerly take the man into his arms and never let go. The small urge grows stronger, and it’s with a sigh that he appeases his instincts as much as he’ll allow.

Below him Childe sleeps on, oblivious to the geo markings that spread across his back, glowing and protective. And when he wakes, the harbinger will find himself back in his own bed, wondering if the scent of glaze lilies was simply a part of a pleasant dream. 

Chapter Text

Ajax yearns to shed blood, and the urge isn’t going away despite how hard he tries to shove it down. He sits at the dinner table, leg bouncing as he restlessly tries to hide his growing desire from is family. Dazzling blue eyes close, and tantalizing images of bloodshed and challenge play behind them, luring him in like a siren’s call. 

“Dad, can I go outside and play?”

His father eyes him warily from the other end of the table, glasses half-slid down his nose as he nods in assent. “Be back before sundown.”

And with that he bundles up in his warm coat and heads into the woods just outside he house. The sound of wolves howling in the distance causing adrenaline and bloodlust to travel through his veins; it’s time to hunt.

He creeps across the snow-covered ground, listening with baited breath for any signs of movement. However, much to his frustration, not a single living being can be found. No birds chirp away, no shimmering crystalflies flutter about, and not a single howl can be heard anymore. His hair stands on end from the silence, the unnatural silence of the woods seeping into every nerve of his body with intense vigor. 

Snow crunches softly under his boots the further in he goes when a crack sounds rom the frozen bushes a little ways before him. Immediately, he crouched down, water blades forming in his hands as he plods forward, his steps nearly inaudible. 

More twigs from the frozen bushes before him snap, their sounds crystal clear and as loud as a cannon from that lack of any other sounds. He licks his lips; it may sound small, but perhaps it would still give him a sort of challenge. 

The bush rattles violently, and after an ephemeral eternity a brown snout emerges from a tangled mess of frozen bark. His weapons are dispersed quickly as the rest of the creature emerges, it’s chunky yet small body falling into the snow with an inelegant plop.

He snorts, the sound alerting the creature. Golden eyes meet his blue ones in alarm, and Ajax can’t help but chuckle, the desire to hunt forgotten, as the strange chunky lizard sits and watches from its place in the snow. It looks almost offended as he approaches, hand reaching out slowly to stroke it’s soft mane. 

“What’s a lizard like you even doing in these woods?”

The lizard, predictably, doesn’t answer. Instead, it only snuggles further into the hand now stroking it’s face, a quiet purring filling the small space between them. How cute. He’s sure his siblings will love it. 

Two hands wrap around it’s body, lifting it with little difficulty and bringing it into the folds of his coat so as to keep it warm. He giggles as it hurries its head deeper into the confines of his coat, eyes closing as warmth finally seeps in and warms it’s icy scales. 

“You poor thing,” he coos, using his index finger to gently stroke it’s mane, “I’ll take you somewhere where you’ll be warm.”

The journey home is full of chatter, Ajax mindlessly sharing countless tidbits of his life to the presumably sleeping creature. The forest fills with life again, birds singing their hearts out the closer he gets to his house. 

Above him the sky has already begun to dim, and he finds himself grateful that he didn’t give his father any more reasons to worry about him. 

The lizard huffs adorably, it’s figure practically melting into him once he gets inside. “I really need to think of a name for you.”

“Hmmmm.” The lizard opens up one eye, staring at him with a strange glint that he can’t quite discern. “I’m going to call you Mora since you’re eyes are gold like mora!”

It huffs, and Ajax takes that as a sign of acceptance. 

The sound of footsteps come closer to the hallway, and he shows his little siblings his discovery with great excitement, handing the lizard over to them with a small smile. They gush over it, carefully petting it’s scales and fluffy fur. It takes the touches with grace, leaning into the more pleasant ones as Ajax watches his mom and dad file into the hallway as well. 

“Can we keep it?”

All of their voices are hopeful, eyes shining with excitement. His mother and father share a look, seemingly communicating telepathically before they reach their solemn verdict. 

One week later finds them releasing the animal, watching with amazement as it lifts off the ground to fly into the air, it’s adorable chunky figure curling elegantly. It spares one last glance before taking off, warmth emanating from its heart. Perhaps, one day, he may return to the family that kept him so cozy. 

The incident is forgotten by Ajax, and it’s only years later when he’s lying in bed, cuddling with his lover that it suddenly hits him. “You were Mora, weren’t you?”

The nod and amused smile he gets sent in response almost makes him feel better for the complete embarrassment of not connecting the dots earlier. In the end, the thoughts are wiped from his head as Zhongli holds him tighter, the heat of his body lulling him into a comfortable sleep; just one of the many that have already happened and are still to come. 

Chapter Text

The abyss had changed Childe, that much was obvious from the way he laughed in the face of bloodshed and relished in every challenging fight he managed to obtain. However, there were other things about him that ha changed. Things that only his family seemed to see.

They saw the way his eyes no longer had any light; the way he could stand directly under the sunlight and only his siblings eyes would sparkle beside him, laughing and playing with whatever monster he had become.

Another on that not many had the privilege of seeing was the first time he had gotten sick since his three day excursion. As a fever ravaged his system, his mother and father saw the faintest lines, almost like outlines of scales forming in patches on his cheek and arms. And when the sick boy gasped, fangs peeled out from pink lips, sharp and glinting. 

His mother was concerned. She could never fear her son, but she found herself stressed at the prospect of needing to put more meat in the family’s meals since her son seemed to be turning into a pure carnivore what with the way he loved blood so much and had a brand new set of fangs. 

His father, on the other hand, was horrified. That wasn’t his son. That wasn’t Ajax.

Tensions grew between them, and after he brought home a bloodied boar for the nth time, not even his mother’s scolding could stop the man from seeing Childe as an inhuman creature that had taken the place of his dear, shy Ajax.

The final straw, the nail in the coffin that signified the end of the civilian Ajax and the beginning of the harbinger Tartaglia happened on a night just like any other. He woke up, hungry and eager for a snack. That in itself was innocent enough, but when he got to the kitchen, nothing had seemed to sit right with him.

The cabinets were full of flour, bread, and their preserved meats. But, none of it felt particularly appetizing. His hunger had only grown, and so he wrote a note. “I’m going out for a bit. If anyone’s awake or finds this before I get back, just know I’ll be back soon.”

The front door creaked loudly, producing far too much noise than he would have liked, but his worries were quickly swept away when the house remained silent. His boots sunk into the snow with every step, creating a clear trail easily seen under the gentle light of the moon.

A delectable scent permeates the air the further into the woods he went, and upon following it he sees a boar, sifting through the snow. He crouched down, vision tunneling on the unsuspecting prey. 

It moved this way and that, body lazily shoving aside snow to find any trace of grass underneath. He licks his lips in anticipation, and when it approaches, he pounces.

Water circles around them both as he tears into it. It’s a messy affair, and when he finally came to it’s to the exasperated sigh of his mother and the horrified stares of his father. 

“Ajax, I told to you tell me if you needed to eat some other food.” 

He looked down, embarrassed as his mother stood before him with hands on her hips. “I didn’t know I wanted to eat that. I’m sorry.”

She sits again, beckoning him closer. “Oh Ajax, don’t apologize. I’ll just need to change our meals a little bit, okay?”

He nods allowing her hand to grasp his, delicate fingers wrapped carefully around his claws. His eyes glow softly, the despairingly beautiful void inside them lighting up the snow with a pretty light. They had just began moving when Childe was shoved away, back hitting the snow as his father moved in between them. 

“Stay back you monster! What have you done to my son?”

He had flinched back then, yearning to retaliate at the first sign of aggression, but the presence of his mother kept him calm. 

A sharp slap echoed, a red print forming on his father’s face, and after that no more words were said. The journey back home was more tense than ever before, and yet when he stepped inside the house, all he was told to do was to take a bath and go back to bed. Icy blue eyes glaring at him with hate were the last thing he saw before he closed the door to his room.

Two weeks later his father sneaks them both out late at night, and before Childe knew it, he found himself in fatui headquarters, his father signing him into their ranks; signing his life away.

All of this hate, just because of his more inhuman features. Needless to say, he learned his lesson, and so time passed, everyone none the wiser to his more monstrous appearances.

He gets promoted again and again until he finds that his newest colleagues were just as inhuman as he was. They dance gracefully across their schemes, the air about them as graceful as any other immortal. They think he’s unhinged and too straightforward and, perhaps luckily enough, too mortal fo the life he lives. What do they know anyway, all their own families were likely already gone, and any feelings of warmth had probably been decimated and forgotten long ago. 

Life continues on. He goes back to see his family sometimes. They always seem happy to see him, his mother going out of her way to feed him meat so fresh blood always drips down his chin. And his siblings understand that he’s not quite like them anymore. They don’t know his job; if they did he’s not sure what he’d do, but they know quite well his more inhuman features. 

They wake him up at night, if only to see his eyes glow that deep pretty blue they adore. They beg him to see his claws, the sparkles embedded in them twinkling like stars. Tercer, in particular, seems fascinated with the way scales sometimes line his arms, their smooth surfaces shimmering under the sunlight. 

His other younger siblings beg him to teach them how to fight at times, and it’s only the pestering of his mother that causes him to finally relent. Their cheers and smiles that day still ring clearly in his head, the pure delight as they watched him carefully, each holding little Woden swords he had made himself. 

His older siblings were like his father, and thus they left with their father to the capital, eager to be far away from him at all times. 

He’s just getting used to his life when he’s given an assignment far more important than any he’s received before.

“Tartaglia, I want you to go to Liyue and steal the Geo Archons gnosis. Do not disappoint me, my Childe.” He will never forget how ethereal she looked in that moment, her form otherworldly against the light seeping into the throne room from the gorgeous stained glass window behind her.

Liyue is hot and humid. On the first night when he arrives there, he strips down as much as he can and sleeps on top of the covers. The people, similarly, are passionate about their home, and by the end of his first week of information gathering, he finds himself utterly exhausted at their enthusiasm.

A breath of fresh air comes in the form of a consultant named Zhongli. The man is not only very knowledgeable in all things Liyue, but he also has a pleasant and calming demeanor, one that soothes his frazzled nerves. 

After their first meeting, he finds them meeting again and again. They meet for meals at first, both of them treading strictly on professional grounds. Then, they go on walks, Childe eagerly listening to Zhongli talk, if only to listen the pleasing low timbre of his voice as he drones on and on about whatever topic comes to mind.

Time passes on, but they never meet when the moon rises. Childe wouldn’t be able to stomach the other man avoiding him because of his other features. 

And yet, he one day finds himself taking a stroll with the consultant outside the city. Today their topic is purely on economics, mostly because Childe, despite being more than adequate as the Northland Bank’s manager, wants to cover all his blind spots. 

They walk side by side along winding dirt paths, Childe loosing himself to the flow as their conversation morphs to that of some of Liyue’s more lighthearted tales. 

There is a point in time where Zhongli says something particularly funny, his wry smile assisting in sending Childe to near hysteria with laughter. He clutches at his stomach, heaving for breath as more hiccuping laughs travel through the air. It’s only when he looks back at the other, a soft smile on his face when he realizes how dark it is. 

“Perhaps it’s best we head back, I know we both have early days tomorrow.” 

Childe could only nod, a blush coloring his cheeks pink as his eyes roamed the way the silvery light of the moon painted the consultant in a devastatingly beautiful picture. His face seemed to smooth out slightly, the light making it look softer and far too gorgeous for Childe to ignore. 

A cough brings him out of his observations. 

His cheeks redden further, and he quickly begins walking. A hand on his shoulder stops him. 

Dead cobalt eyes meet shining golden ones, and he can’t help but shudder at their intensity. 

Soft lips brush against his, and when he pushes back slightly, just enough to push them together, he finds himself utterly devoured. Hands on either side of his hips pull him closer still, the other’s tongue claiming everything it can reach to leave him breathless and flustered. 

He’ll never admit to squeaking when his side is pinched to encourage him to wrap his arms around the other’s neck. 

When they finally pull apart, a string of saliva connecting their lips, Childe feels his soul promptly leave his body when Zhongli smiles and bares his fangs. The other’s eyes glow, his smile turning them into crescents, and the harbinger knows he is done for. 

“Would you be amendable to heading back to my apartment?” A thumb stokes his lip, wiping away some of the spit as a kiss is placed on the corner of his own glowing eyes. “I’m sure we have much to discuss.”

He can only nod mutely, barely processing the fact that he’s been fraternizing with an adeptus, before he’s dragged away, anticipation flowing through his veins.

Chapter Text

Childe had expected that eventually someone of Liyue Harbor would no longer grant him the generosity of existing there peacefully after summoning Osial. The mere fact that there was no proof of the fatui summoning it, only a slight amount of them being involved, was enough for many to close their doors to them. 

So, when a man runs up to him, a snarl on his face, he expects the man to enact his revenge in some way, perhaps with a punch or a swipe of a knife. Instead, the man raises one hand over his head, and throws a glass bottle at him. 

It breaks on impact. 

The next thing he knows, a mysterious, glittering pink liquid covers his clothes, some of it even dripping from his hair. Silence rings across the roads, everyone turning to watch the spectacle occurring. 

The substance then begins to spark, the slight shocks barely being felt before it explodes all at once and smoke poofs out from where he once was. 

He coughs, heaving for breath as magic rushes through him with all the speed of a bullet. His chest begins to feel heavier, the clothing around it feeling stifling and bothersome. Next, her pants begin to feel tighter as well, thighs pressing back against the fabric and the little belt on his thigh clinging so tight he can practically feel the circulation cutting off. A swift adjustment fixes that, but he finds he has other issues when the smoke clears and all the people around him look at him with awe. 

His eyes lock onto the attacker before him, ready to pounce at any given moment. But, before he can even take a single step forward, blood drips down from the man’s nose, and takes off running.

Childe gives chase, oblivious to the baffled and flushed expressions those who see him give. It’s when he nearly trips a third time, his gait unfamiliar and odd now that he has more female parts, that he nearly takes out his water blades.

Quick hands wrap around his slim waist and pull him back, and the man is saved. He’s about to turn and snap at whoever dared to touch him, when the familiar scent of glaze lilies wraps around him. 

Ah, it’s Zhongli.

“You can let go of me now.” His smile quirks in amusement as the other quickly unhands him, a blush staining his cheeks a pretty pink.

“My apologies,” he says, seemingly lost on what to say as Childe gazes up at him, unaware of the way his uniform now leaves very little to the imagination with how loose it is on his smaller figure. 

Childe chuckles quietly; it seems Mr. Zhongli is as courteous as ever. 

A few more passerby’s stop and stare a Childe with odd looks in their eyes, and while he would normally like the attention, knowing that they’re staring at his new assets so intently flusters him more than he’d like. 

Zhongli remains silent, and with a roll of his ocean eyes he begins to walk, intent on making it to the bank. The consultant stops him, finally finding some words to say.

“Let’s go to the parlor. It’s closer and has more -ah- fitting clothing for you.” A faint yet insistent tug of his arm is all he needs to agree.

At some point, when baffled stares become leers, Zhongli’s coat makes its way around his shoulders. The warmth and comforting scents surround him then, and he finds that he’s never felt more safe.

Once they step into the funeral parlor, Zhongli takes out one of their extra female uniforms and hands it to him. “My office is right behind that door. You can change there, and I shall wait here for you to finish.” 

As he removes his clothing, Childe can’t help but feel grateful that the clothes are easy to get on. There’s not much he can do about his ill-fitting boots, but he can, at the very least, wear clothes that fit him better. He keeps the scarf though; he likes it too much to just abandon it.

When he gets out, Zhongli is sitting on once of the guest chairs, reading some sort of scroll. Golden eyes glance up, and Childe feels his heart flutter in his chest. He had never thought that they would ever have another outing or talk again, but after Zhongli came to him one day, asking for their friendship to continue, he found himself back in the other’s clutches once more.

It wasn’t long before the feelings he had felt before the incident caught up to him and the full brunt of his love for the brunet sent him scrambling for any semblance of normalcy. Even now, after months of them going out for dinners and strolls again, seeing that soft look in his eyes sent him internally swooning. 

Those same golden eyes still stared at him now, raking up and down his figure with innocent curiosity. 

“What’s wrong Mr. Zhongli, like what you see?” He winks for extra effect, long stands of hair rustling slightly as he tilts his head forward just the slightest bit.

The consultant simply smiles, setting his scroll aside to stand before the harbinger. A slender finger idly takes a strand of hair and twirls it, waiting a moment before bringing it up to his lips and kissing it. Then, in a strange twist of events Childe hadn’t expected, Zhongli leans forward, the hand on his hair moving to the back of his head to pull him in.

Soft, plush lips push against his, bringing him in for a achingly sweet kiss that leaves him breathless. Zhongli takes a step forward, and Childe is pushed back until he’s trapped between a shelf and the ex-archon. An ex-archon that takes the opportunity to tilt his head further and deepen the kiss.

It’s truly unfair that the potion shrunk him down, because where he used to be able to see Zhongli mostly eye to eye, he now had to look up. The disadvantage it caused was easy to see  with the way the other presses down into him, caging him in and preventing escape.

The kiss is deepened, and Childe gasps as his mouth is explored by a curious tongue. It twists with his own, and though he tries to remain steady, his knees begin to buckle as curious hands travel across his back and neck.

By the time Zhongli pulls away, a thing of saliva connecting them, Childe is breathless and flustered. 

“Yes, I do.”

“What?”

“You asked me whether I liked what I saw, and the answer is yes. Yes I do.” 

And with that the other sends him a small, smug smirk, his figure not even ruffled the slightest bit as he goes back to his office. “I hope you’ll be well enough for our dinner tonight?”

Oh yeah, they had a reservation.

“Yes, I’ll be there.” He grins weakly, knees still wobbly as he begins his journey to the bank, heart still racing at the prospect of having to see Zhongli again that day after that. 

At the very least, it’s a problem for future Childe, not him, so he walks, already eager for whatever else will come later.