eggbowl | In my blood...

A kinder fate...

[hot anger bubbles up again, and with it comes a need to hurt. to cause pain, just so Zhongli knows just even a fraction of what he's feeling. Dohalim presses himself against the other just a little more, knee roughly nudging his thighs apart. his fingers don't let up on Zhongli's hair, as if gripping onto some form of reality, so he doesn't completely go off the deep end. he's toeing that line, he's sure, but he's not quite there, yet.

but his comment on how he's not alone, however... that triggers something in him. more of that anger rises in him; he breathes heavily through gritted teeth]

You know nothing... I have no one. Gone, because of me, because of what I've done. I've received hatred from those I've held closest to me, watched as their backs have turned to me.

[his face contorts to mirror that anger, but within it, within his eyes, there's that hint of anguish, sadness for what he's been through. Dohalim still reaches for Zhongli, to grasp at anything, but this corruption... it's holding him back, pulling him back down into darkness.

but that corruption starts to win over him; e presses his leg against the deity even more, knee resting against the edge of the bed and effectively pinning Zhongli in place. his free hand slides down, slipping under him to grasp at clothing, to push and pull it aside. he just wants control. to control his emotions, to control this conversation, to control himself, even if he's unsure of even that, right now]

Do not speak of me as if you know. You do not.

[it's a little baffling, in the moment, what Dohalim is intending to do. even as a God, he'd never considered intimacy with someone who he didn't care for, so the idea of it - even as he's pinned to the bed with a knee between his thighs - isn't even vaguely on his mind.

the Renan speaks, a petulant child lashing out in anger and sorrow and self-hatred, and Zhongli can only feel pity in that moment. it is, after all, the tirade of someone who is less unlike the God than he knows. to lose friends, to watch them turn against you, against your morals and intentions...]

My words will not reach you now, I know this. But perhaps, somewhere, it will stick. I don't know your history. I don't know what you, personally, have been through, and I have never claimed to.

[his legs spread a little wider as Dohalim's thigh slides between them, knee pressed to the bed and pinning him down all the more. though his hands are free enough, he doesn't move them in opposition. there isn't a point, he doesn't think.

... even if there is the faintest tinge of pink to his cheeks when realisation dawns on him, as fabric shuffles and shifts aside. of all the ways to assert control, even in madness...]

But I don't need to understand your pain to understand pain. Nor to want to offer solidarity.

[Dohalim's hand stills for a moment as he listens to Zhongli's words. that small, rational part clings to them in hopes that it will be enough to pull him back out, but it's like wading through molasses. the corruption is invasive, and while the deity's doing what he can to stem the spread, Dohalim is worried that it may be too late. it's probably been too late for a while, and he just hadn't realised. but... he still gently tugs at their bond, the warmth the only comfort he can cling to in the dark.

but the maddened part of him, as the cloying corruption continues to swirl in his mind, lets out an angry sound, still seething. it tries again to overtake Dohalim again. this time, not pushing against Zhongli's astral energy, but, instead, using that bond to seep into his]

I don't want solidarity from you. I don't want pity from you.

[Dohalim is still unmoving, hand still, fingers hooked onto waistband of the other's pants]

You speak of promising a kinder fate to those who cannot be saved from this. So why must you torture me so?

[That corruption turns then, and in some ways it's what he's been waiting for. Rationality still holds in him, his astral energy unwavering in the face of those words, at least.

If Dohalim wants stories of loss... Zhongli could keep him busied for the rest of his life, probably. But as he stills, as his astral energy pulses and resonates with Dohalim's, it slowly strips away at the edges of that madness. It gleams like burnished gold, gentle and warm as it shatters what has no place between them and bolsters what should. It isn't perfect, corruption tainting that bond and Zhongli's energy like a corrosive tarnish, just in little flecks and bits.]

I didn't-- say that. [The effort leaves him distracted, just a little. His normal gentility and poise suffers for it, a sharp inhale and exhale sounding as a sickly sensation crawls through him.] I said that I would take action before they lost complete control... and that the fate would be kinder than that loss.

[and, almost ironically... even that is only so much kinder. Hatred and corruption fester in the dark, growing stronger over time, but... it's not as simple as Dohalim seems to think. True, for him, right now, death may be an option... he still doesn't think the man deserves that pain.

He wants to show him kindness and warmth, even if it means he has to kill him or seal him later. That hasn't changed.]

I don't do this as torture. It isn't an easy path, but I... would like to help you walk it. If you don't want that, then... I suppose I'm sorry.

[there's a quiet consideration for Zhongli's words, ones that somehow reach Dohalim. Perhaps it's the aid of their astral energies melding together, but he eventually loosens his grip on the other's hair, his other hand slipping out from under them. Leaning forward, Dohalim rests how forehead against Zhongli's shoulders again. He'll take the time to be mortified about all of this, later, but for now, between the quelling corruption and the warmth of the deity's energy wrapping around him, it's enough to finally calm him down. Barely, but better than moments before]

Why... Why do you want to? Why walk with me when this is such a slippery slope? It's buried its roots into me, ensnared me.

I've been tainted with this madness, and yet you...

[his knee slips from the edge of his bed, and he more or less slumps against Zhongli. There's an exhaustion thar nearly overwhelms him as he slowly comes back to his senses, now very aware of how much this is all affecting him physically and mentally; as if he'll crumble if this keeps going like this. He knows he will... It's just a matter of how much Zhongli is willing to endure before letting him go]

[pain eases as Dohalim releases his hair, and there's the faintest hint of a shiver running down his spine at the relief. it's gone by the time Dohalim's forehead comes to rest against his shoulders, a different sort of weight keeping him in place. it feels better, at least... but for how long?]

... Because, as I said, I wish to put my trust in you. To lend you what stability I have, based upon the action I've observed.

Because, contrary to your belief, this is not something you deserve. One's history does not define what one must become... one's hardships are not innately unconscionable. That is what I believe, after all this time.

[what will he endure? what must he endure? it doesn't really matter. this isn't his first such contract, and it's one he knows will end in heartache. still...]

It may be selfish, but I want to see you continue to grow. To remember you, even if there is no escape from this path.

[because he doesn't know if there is one, but... he won't forget. he's never forgotten any of them. it's sentimental, but perhaps he's allowed that, after so many years.]

[there's a tremble that starts at Dohalim's fingertips that make its way throughout his body, like a rolling quake that soon takes over. he tries to distract himself from it by casting a small healing arte to alleviate the pain he'd caused Zhongli, before unthreading his fingers from his hair completely. he's caused pain again... and the worst part of it is that he wanted to do it. he wanted to see the other in pain, to make him feel it. it nearly makes him sick just thinking about it.

for Zhongli to want to see his growth... just how how much will he be able to see before this... corruption ultimately takes over? how much time does he have left? to hear the truth from him, that this is a fate he won't be able to escape from... that tremble grows. uncontrollable as it ripples through him. he remembers what had transpired here, what he had done and what he tried to do--

there's a sharp gasp as he pushes himself up and away from Zhongli, before falling to his knees behind him. hands come up to slide into his hair, tugging at still damp tresses of red. he can feel his breathing getting heavier as everything that had happened in the last few hours comes crashing into him; the deaths he'd found out about, the deaths he'd caused, what he'd found out about himself, and what he's tried to do to Zhongli. a few hours, and his entire life has come undone, shattered as the pieces lay at his feet.

he doesn't lose himself again. no, this is more punishing. perhaps it's what he deserves to endure. he can feel that corruption stir in him, delicately holding onto that sorrow, cradling it and feeding into it. but no... no, he can't lose himself in it again...]

[His pain is so minor as to be practically nonexistent, and he doesn't fear it - rather the opposite, truthfully. The healing arte glosses over that, and he's released to the measure of his own thoughts. There's a brief wonder of which of Them the young man is more like... it's a discarded thought a few heartbeats later. It doesn't matter. He'll figure it out.

He doesn't hesitate when Dohalim moves, especially when he can hear the man falling to his knees, the shuffle of fabric. And he does not accept any protest in setting himself on the floor and pulling Dohalim to his chest.]

Don't withdraw. [It's a quiet murmur, not sharp in the least. As he speaks, a hand rises to gently coax hands away from dampened hair, to be replaced with the gentle stroke of his own.] breathe slowly, and take your time. This is not easy, but you are not alone in enduring it. This I swear. I will be here as long as you wish me to.

[There's a resounding gravity to that statement, made without even the faintest tinge of obligation.]

[there is that protest as soon as Dohalim feels those arms around him, pulling him close. it's a weak attempt as he tries to pull himself away, but the warmth is too inviting that he gives in soon after. he much prefers this to the cold depths of his mind and the corruption that sinks its claws into him. at least the storm has calmed to those incoherent whispers from before. a constant reminder, it seems, that this will not go away. that this is part of him now, a looming threat that it will one day take over him, and that there isn't anything anyone can do to purify it.

it's terrifying to think about, the fact that he'll lose himself to this. what's the point on even trying to live a life that will soon no longer be his to live? Zhongli has given his reasons for wanting to help, for wanting to keep him alive, but he is undeserving of that effort. why would the god want to spend his time and energy on someone who is beyond saving? Zhongli even admitted it to himself; if this is the path he's fated to walk down on, then why...

and yet, he has contracted himself to help Dohalim, to ease what this burden is, in any way he can. as much as he's protested this, as much as he's tried to push back, as much as he wanted to hurt him, Zhongli is still here, promising to stay, with no hint of obligation to upkeep the contract in his voice.

as his hands are nudged away, Dohalim instead wraps his arms around the other, hands clinging to his back, as he tries to calm his breathing. it's another task he's having trouble with, panic finally setting in, but he tries. he tries so hard, not just for himself, but for Zhongli as well]

I... I'm afraid. I fear... I fear for what comes, and what lurks in the deep...

[Zhongli strokes Dohalim's hair as the young man tries to calm himself, tries to see past the panic and terror of the inevitable. It's hard to know what to do, when he's always been so... aware of his own limits, aware that one day, even he will begin to forget.

Arms wrap around his back and he doesn't even flinch, his other arm sliding around the man's waist to provide him more warmth, more gentle stability.]

It's natural to fear. To be angry and to lash out. You grieve, for yourself and for others, and that... that is why I am here. But what comes... what comes may take all your life to truly manifest. [His eyes close as he considers his words, unsure which ones may bring any comfort to begin with. Perhaps, if he could introduce Dohalim to one of those few remaining friends... but then, he's always been gloomy and overly dedicated. Perhaps not.] This journey is far from over, and that, I think, is a good thing.

Let yourself grieve for now, if you can. But... keep in mind too that I am only one elemental deity. I know much, but I do not know everything.

I can hardly say where the answer might be, but... if you should wish to look for a cure for this, I will support you in any way I can.

[let himself grieve... is he truly allowed to do so? is he allowed to grieve for the people he'd slain, is he allowed to grieve for his own life, and how little control he now has over it? is he allowed any of this? he isn't sure. but Dohalim can't stop the hot prickling in his eyes as they start to water. he tries to hold back those tears, telling himself that it's unbecoming to show such emotion. but then again... he's already fallen apart, hasn't he? he's shown emotion that he should not have, he let them get out of control because of his tarnished soul.

he lets out a shuddering breath, face buried in the crook of Zhongli's neck, as the first few tears slip from his eyes. he should be ashamed of himself, to be so emotional in front of a god. in fact, he is. he's ashamed of being so afraid, he's ashamed of showing emotions such as this in front of another, he's ashamed of what he nearly did to Zhongli. his heart hammers in his chest, as a heaviness rests on his shoulders, bearing down on him. it's an exhausting feeling, and he supposes he'd always felt like that. but with everything coming to terms, he'd just become all the more aware of it.

however, as Zhongli continues to speak, Dohalim raises his head, looking at him through his hair, vision blurry from the tears]

Do... Do you think there is a cure? Something to alleviate this?

[the exhaustion is mirrored in his voice; he doesn't want to sound hopeful. he doesn't want to get his hopes up in the event that there is no cure...]

[Zhongli is patient, content to wait as long as Dohalim needs. the more he sees, the more he suspects that Rena is no more kind to its people than it is to the Dahnans in some ways. it's unfortunate, but given their general preferences and the eternal harvesting of Dahna's astral energy...

as Dohalim raises his head, Zhongli brushes away a few tears, offering a small smile.]

If I'm honest, I have no idea. It must be remembered that Dahna is only one world, and I had no need to turn my sights to anything past my own abilities or space. We would have to research it from the start, and I suspect it will be... difficult at best. Then again, that difficulty is often more satisfying.

[as if this wasn't difficult already. but then again, Dohalim also knows that this won't be easy, either. to live... to not seek out ways to cut his life short, that's already a task with a high degree of difficulty. it always has been. but this time... Zhongli said he would stay by him the entire way through, until the terms of their contract are met. perhaps that's the difference now. however, if Zhongli were to leave...

that, for some reason, is a thought that Dohalim does not want to entertain. while the god had never been in his inner circle previously, he had grown quite attached to him. perhaps it was his intellect, or his knowledge for the realm's terrain (now he understands how he has so much knowledge of it), or even the fact that Zhongli can hold up a conversation that most would get bored of. he'd grown to... like Zhongli.

which only makes him feel even more guilty about putting him through this.

sighing softly, and nodding, Dohalim slowly untangles himself from the other's hold, before standing. he can feel that exhaustion in his very bones, and while he's usually pretty spry, even when he's stressed out, this time, he can almost swear that his joints are creaking. luckily, it's only a step or two to his bed; he unceremoniously flops on top of it before bringing his knees to his chest and curling up into a ball. he doesn't even bother pulling his duvet to crawl underneath it. he's silent for a moment, before he addresses Zhongli again, voice soft]

...Will you stay with me? Until the very end, no matter what the outcome is?

[Zhongli remains for a moment, letting Dohalim get comfortable before he stands up to follow, though he just settles on the edge nearby, for now. the question, and its inevitable origin of worry, are hardly a surprise... and he smiles faintly before he speaks again.]

Of course. That would be true, if you didn't dismiss me wholesale, even without our contract. [a hand comes to rest on one of Dohalim's shoulder, light and unobtrusive.] For now, do you need anything? I will fetch some water for you, you'll likely need that later.

Stay. Until I fall asleep, at least.

[the hand on Dohalim's shoulder is a comfort, just as warm as their bond. it's almost enough to relax him as his shoulders slack; he reaches up to gently squeeze Zhongli's fingers before dropping his hand again. he doesn't say another word as his eyes slip closed, and before he knows it, he's faded off into sleep. it's a small mercy that he is able to stay asleep for the rest of the night.

frustrations start to mount the days after his rampage; first it'd started as a minor irksome feeling in the back of his head. not once does he take his temper out on servant or member of his court, though his words are short. for the most part, however, he keeps up the veneer of levelheadedness, a façade to hide what is going on inside. no one should know about that, no one should know just how unhinged he's becoming. once was already enough, and the palace, as well as Viscint, are starting to slowly recover. no one needs to know.

the corruption does pull at his and Zhongli's bond, sometimes a gentle tug as a reminder, or a violent pull that nearly makes Dohalim slip in public. the unpredictability is what frustrates Dohalim the most, along with trying to find something, anything in the library about this sort of thing. surely there has to be some sort of documentation about it; the god spoke of it like it's been around for a while. so then why...

of course, comes the other point. he hadn't seen Zhongli all day. normally, it would not bother him at all; despite their contract, the god is autonomous, allowed to do whatever it is that he needs to do. but he also said he'd stay by Dohalim's side, so where is he?

which is why, when he does finally see the other, Zhongli is roughly shoved into Dohalim's room, not unlike several nights ago. and like then, Zhongli is shoved onto Dohalim's bed, this time straddled by the Renan, hands gently wrapped around his neck, fingers threatening to squeeze. he wants to feel the strain in Zhongli's throat as he tries to breathe. Dohalim looks down at him; the mad look in his eyes is back]

You told me you would not leave me. I needed you today, and you were nowhere to be found.

Of course. I won't leave for anything until then.

[it had settled into something of an easy comfort, after that. slowly putting Viscint back together, starting to work through all that needs to be done. honestly, it's barely even a scratch of the surface, especially with the intent of unseating the tyranny of Rena...

but as that sensation pulls at their bond, at least, Zhongli does make a concerted effort to be around more notably, hoping to soothe as much of the frustration as he can. in the end, it only works so much - there are so many things he has on his mind and leads to follow before bringing them to Dohalim's attention. so far, it's been a lot of nothing, but that's... not unexpected. when it comes to avenues the deity didn't already knew about, a lot of it is hearsay and misunderstanding of vague details, left over from history that's been nearly scrubbed clean.

this particular day had been a notably grueling one, hunting down the last bits of information. nothing of use, or at least... nothing they can do anything with, at this junction. he's just finished sending a message to someone before finding himself shoved into the Renan's room again.]

Dohalim-

[ah. his back hits the bed again and Dohalim is quick to straddle him, hands slipping around his neck. gentle for now, but the threat of pressure is so plainly there. what had happened? perhaps he'd lost track of time, but--]

I- was following up on some information. [he's careful and mild with his tone, all too aware of that mad look in his eyes.] My apologies, I thought I had spoken to the servants when I needed to step outside the city...

[it's still so odd to him that it keeps ending up here. means something, most likely, but he's not the type to make presumptions about others. though.. on top of it all, he hasn't been under someone in quite a long time, a fact he'd thought about a fair bit after the last instance.]

You were gone for too long.

[Dohalim almost spits the words out as they drip with disdain. he can't explain it, this... odd possessiveness he has for Zhongli; a part of him wants to make him hurt, but at the same time, he wants to claim the deity. irrational thoughts brought by the corruption, no doubt, but the thoughts are there nonetheless.

thumbs press against Zhongli's throat slowly, not enough to outright strangle him, but enough to make breathing a lot more uncomfortable]

Do you want to know what I hear when I am alone? In the silence, I hear whispers... The corruption. It says things as it takes over. Needling thoughts that burrow deep.

[more pressure from his thumbs are applied; it would be so easy to crush his windpipe, Dohalim thinks. or is it really him thinking that?]

Invasive thoughts that tell me you were never coming back. That you've left, like everyone else. That you lied.

Ah...

[thumbs press down against his throat and Zhongli reaches up just to place a hand on his arm, perhaps as reassurance. he doesn't try to push him away - less because he's worried for himself and more so that there's less chance of a catastrophic misunderstanding.

gone for too long... he'll have to remember that. it shouldn't be too hard to keep in mind, all things considered, though he's a little surprised it's causing such an immediate effect... an issue of the proximity to grief, perhaps.]

Doha...lim... nngh...

[his little grunt is muted as the Renan presses down on his windpipe, sound reverberating against his fingers. it's not impossible to breathe yet, nor speak, but it's certainly not easy.]

I'm sorry... had I known, I... would have been more... attentive. [each pause is broken by a sharp inhale, fingers twitching faintly against the redhead's arm.] but I... am back, yes? No... lying there. I would never. If there's something... to help you believe that...

But you were gone. That is still the transgression.

[he doesn't care why Zhongli had to leave the city, and while he does know why, the fact still remains. he'd been left to his own devices, with the corruption tainting his thoughts, pulling him away from the warm hold Zhongli has on him instead]

You left when I needed you... It was hard today. Hard to keep my head, and now... [just a little more pressure on Zhongli's neck; he wants to feel that struggle] It's taken over again, Zhongli.

[what can the deity do to help Dohalim believe him? he isn't sure. he's just so angry that Zhongli left, and without telling him! he'd relied on a servant to tell him, instead. fingers tremble slightly in that anger, as he lets out a frustrated sound]

You... You didn't come to see me before you left. What was I to believe? I reached for you with our bond, and yet... You did not come. You were gone.

[hands squeeze then, effectively cutting off Zhongli's airway. the frenzied look in his widened eyes as he watches. there is one way Zhongli could convince him to believe his words; the god is under at his service, after all. and Dohalim finds himself not caring if Zhongli says no]

[in retrospect, he should have realised how that madness could twist this. How their words had potentially sounded. How... careless of him.]

Ah-- haah...

[pain pulses against his throat as Dohalim applies more pressure, breaths rattling thinly as it first takes his speech. It's taken over again, the Renan says, and it prickles guilt in him. The change is so subtle, like rust beginning to oxidise on freshly exposed iron. We've Zhongli can't quite feel it as it sinks into their bond, twisting and connecting them further. Had he been too far to feel a pull on their connection? No, he shouldn't have been, but... he would have come back if he felt it. Right? It's always been his intention...

If he somehow missed it, let Dohalim alone to this pain after everything... doesn't he deserve it, at least a little? Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as his lungs burn, airway cut off with the squeeze of fingers. It hurts - almost more on his neck than deeper, the grip threatening to bruise delicate flesh. It's also almost intoxicating in the most confusing way, just... this side of pleasurable? How... strange.

His gaze trembles as the burn for fresh air worsens, fingers squeezing the redhead's arm in subtle plea. And amid their bond, an apology, soft and soothing. He hopes. Will he let himself be truly endangered? Probably not, but if this helps... if this soothes Dohalim's anger a little...

Ah. Everything starts to feel like it's floating then, golden gaze struggling to focus as his eyelids flutter.]

[a passing thought comes to Dohalim as he watches Zhongli struggle; could he really kill the deity with his bare hands, if he wanted to? Could he quite literally squeeze the life out of him, would he be allowed to? Would it be easy? He can feel the hand on his arm plead for air, to relent, but what if he doesn't?

Zhongli looks… almost beautiful, like this. Repentant, unfocused eyes of gilded gold that shine with tears… Should he keep going? Just to see how far this goes, to see how far Zhongli will let him go.

But he does relent, thumbs lifting from his throat, allowing him to breathe again. Is it the rational part of him that does so? That rational part of him that's desperate to stop the pain, to stop him from hurting Zhongli further? Or is it that soothing apology felt through their bond that he clings to, now that he can feel that warmth again? His hands don't leave the deity's neck yet]

How will you make it up to me? How will you repent? If I were to offer you an option, would you say no? I wonder...

[air rushes back to his lungs and a shudder runs down Zhongli's spine, chest heaving with each breath. Dohalim remains above him and it makes... such a pretty picture, somehow.]

Ah... haah... I...

[His voice is a ragged as his breaths, thin and thready. The ache is there, and yet... and yet the sensation left over after he can breathe is almost erotic.]

... would have to... hear it... nnh. [His Adam's apple shifts against Dohalim's fingers as he swallows, gaze still light and slightly glassy. He can't think of anything he would refuse Dohalim for, especially if it helped him relax.] Ah... haah...

[Dohalim continues to watch Zhongli, now with a curiosity about him. by now he would expect fear, concern, something in those golden eyes that would beg him not to do it again. but as he peers into those gilded irises, Dohalim can almost swear he sees something else, like… as if Zhongli’s enjoying this. fingers twitch, itching to see what reaction he would get if he were to squeeze his neck again. under his fingers, the Renan can see red marks start to form on pale skin; it sends some sort of excitement through him. a temporary mark on Zhongli’s body… what other marks could he give him?]

Give yourself to me. Give your body to me; I want to use it. Use you.

[it’s not a request, but a demand, as his fingers close around Zhongli’s neck again. through their bond, more of that corruption taints it, seeping into it like water filling small fissures in the ground. he’s still angry, furious at the god for leaving him alone with the corruption running rampant in his mind.

thumbs press down on Zhongli’s neck again, but light enough to let him speak, but only just]

But I do have to wonder… If you want it. You seem to enjoy this– he presses his thumbs down hard for a moment, before lifting them up again] Or am I being presumptuous?

[it's strange, really. even Zhongli isn't sure if he's enjoying this, gaze flickering over Dohalim's face. there's no sign of the gentler soul in all this, completely lost behind his anger, his fear, the spell of corruption and anxiety so strong.

the words make his brows knit - more confusion than outright refusal - and he shivers despite himself as fingers curl around his neck and close down. corruption seeps into cracks he didn't even know were there, and the deity gives a soft noise. to use his body... where did that idea come from, he wonders. the Renan had never seemed particularly thin for partners, and besides...

still, if this is what he can do, is it that hard a choice? it's only a body, after all.]

You- [thumbs press down and he gives a choked grunt, fingers curling against Dohalim's arm again for the brief moment of aching pressure.] You're... presuming... haah... [struggling through breath and speech, he closes his eyes for a moment. the feeling isn't unpleasant, true, but...] This... isn't anything I want...

[at least, his head doesn't want it. the dizzy warmth that courses through him, nurtured by the taint on their bond, feels so... sweet, somehow, tinging his cheeks as much as the reprieve from breathlessness. it really is the least he could do, isn't it? to give him relief, to apologise for disappearing.]

But... I do want... to repent...

You don't want this...?

[Dohalim looks down at Zhongli, like a hunter toying with his prey. thumbs relent again as he finally lets go of his neck, eyes trailing down to the angry handprints on Zhongli's neck. beautiful, just like him. a thought that Dohalim will admit to thinking about; he'd be lying to himself if he didn't think that the deity is attractive. though, he never did act on it before the corruption sunk into him, but is this really the way to go about it?

he pushes that question aside. he'd already put in his demands.

Dohalim shifts his hips down a little, before grinding down hard against Zhongli; he still watches, to see his reaction. perhaps the body wants what the mind doesn't, at least in Zhongli's case, but really, Dohalim, at this point, doesn't really care. or, maybe, it really is the corruption talking, wanting to taint the deity even more, wanting to ensnare him as well. to put to the test his strength and fortitude. after all, even the strongest rock will erode in time]

I find myself... Not caring, whether or not you want this. I offer this as your penance. Satisfy me, and I will consider forgiving you.

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