#—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

[tartagliaxx]

。DISTANCE MAKES THE HEART FONDER 

━━ INCLUDES: alhaitham, cyno, tighnari

━━ SUMMARY: some feelings are felt but left unspoken, or things that the characters do to ease the longing that resides in their heart caused by the distance between you two

━━ CONTAINS: established relationships, long-distance romance

。ALHAITHAM — “ scribe of the akademiya ”

The room he rented for his temporary stay at Port Ormos was rather bare. Not like it mattered, of course. The scribe of the Akademiya cared not for frivolous details. As long as he had what he needed, he was fine and dandy. Today, all he needed was a book and a pen. Alhaitham leans back, the chair creaking subtly under his weight. A glance at the setting sun was all it needed to illicit a small sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh. Though not the kind to whine about what life serves him, a near non-existent flicker of desire had him gripping his pen tighter, eyebrows furrowing deeply as his stoic expression morphed into one of annoyance.

Closing his eyes, he counted to three and breathed in the small pauses in between. Just like that, his composed demeanor returned and he once again sat up straight. In his desk was one of the books Kaveh pointedly refers to as “literature acquired through the scribe’s abuse of authority,” something Alhaitham only rolls his eyes at. There was nothing wrong with simply making use of the resources readily available to him given his esteemed position. Honestly, the mere thought of his roommate made his blood boil and the only reason he has yet to kick him out to the streets was that you had laughed and told him to hold on for a little longer. You were too empathetic for your own good sometimes, but perhaps, that which you possess which he does not is what had attracted him to you in the first place.

His mind swims at the thought of you — of how you’d steal his coat to snuggle into as you lounged around the couch, eyeing either one of his books lying around or nursing a cup of tea that he had brewed for you before he busied himself with whatever. With that thought, Alhaitham’s lips twisted uncharacteristically into a minuscule smile, the kind that would require much effort to see. That expression left not even for a second as his pen scratched onto the surface of the paper, ink pooling to form words at the corner of the page. Definitions, clarifications, guide questions, interpretations, and finally, on the last page, a small envelope — a letter, to be precise, that contained a short recount of what he could afford to tell you about his days far from you. There was no flair, and certainly no drama. If you, its eventual receiver, were to compare it with anything, you’d associate it with an eyewitness report for one of the crimes the Matra are investigating. Still, you had once told him offhandedly that knowing about how his day went made you feel as if he was with you and conversing lightly over candlelit dinners. In truth, the scribe found the act to be a waste of time but because it’s for you, he had room to make exceptions. After all, where was the lie in saying that even miles apart, Alhaitham thinks of you quite fondly — finding a unique sense of satisfaction in sharing all that he owns, including his prized intellect and his scarce affection with you?

With that, he decides to call it a night; withdrawing from the desk and leaving behind the book that was ready to be shipped off to Sumeru City first thing in the morning.

。CYNO — “ the general mahamatra ”

His feet dug into the fine grains of sand with each trudge forward. 

The desert has always been quiet at night, save for the howling wind that sounded eerie to the ears of the inexperienced. It was precisely because of this that he prefers moving out when darkness has painted the land with dark shadows and solitude. Then, he could hear everything: The shuffling of the scorpions, the small squeaks of the birds perched on the trees, and most importantly, the scared breathing and mumbling of his prey.

The General Mahamatra was feared by the citizens of Sumeru and for good reason too. He shows no mercy, face remaining cold and detached even after a scholar expresses their motivations for whatever fallacy they have committed. Stress, coercion, vengeance; he has heard it all but never has his heart been swayed. The weight of their sins had always been placed on the scale and they have always lost against that of his principles. Such is the judgment of the Matra, such is the fairness of Cyno, and such is the blade that sliced through the heavy air as the reason for his sudden departure from the city was finally apprehended.

It had taken longer than he would’ve liked and Cyno, who has finally had the room to breathe and release the tension that lingered in his shoulders, sat down in the makeshift camp of the now-unconscious scholar. The trek back to Caravan Ribbat would take long and he was not that heartless to force the weak-looking man on his feet just to serve as the next target for unfriendly Eremite groups. There are many dangers in the desert and frankly, it was a miracle the scholar made it this far unscathed. 

Still, that meant that he’ll have to camp away from home for the night and Cyno’s heart leaned towards irritation. Never had he had any qualms against being away from his lodging on the outskirts of Sumeru City but now was different. Instead of silence and the untrustworthy shadows, what awaits him is perhaps, a spread of his favorite foods and fruits illuminated by the warm kitchen light and your radiant and welcoming smile. You are waiting, Cyno sighs as his eyes moved towards the clear night sky of the desert. You — his star, the brightest one he had the pleasure of witnessing. Here, sheltered only by a feeble-looking tent, the General Mahamatra finds himself longing to bask under your light, eyes twinkling as you retell stories of how your day went filled with the tiny, insignificant details that he misses when he’s away. He longs for you: body, mind, and soul, and his face says it all if you had the gall to stare that long.

Cyno’s gaze never wavered from the sky, not even as clouds pass by and covered what had been the object of his attention. He bides his time seeking the brightest star that just falls short of beating your illuminance in his heart. Perhaps that will ease the ache he feels, maybe even remove the tingle in his fingers that crave to feel your skin and warmth once more.

From afar, the General Mahamatra is as serene as he could be and so is the lullaby he hums quietly — your favorite, and the one he had sung before to urge you to sleep when you and he ventured the same lands together.

。TIGHNARI — “ forest watcher of the avidya forest ”

The forest watcher was a busybody, that much is a fact for everyone who has heard his name. Between lecturing reckless adventurers and mushroom-addicted merchants, clearing Withering Zones, writing down patrol schedules, and caring for the sick and injured, it was a surprise that Tighnari had time to breathe and do what normal people do. If he were to be honest, however, he’d say that he prefers it this way. Being busy keeps him away from straying thoughts, and having his entire mental faculties required by tasks at hand makes it impossible for him to dwell in the past where you and he rest under the shade of the towering trees in Avidya Forest, whispering secret conversations that the world has not the clearance to hear.

Yes, the forest watcher does prefer it this way, but his ears and tail are ever more honest than he will ever be.

Collei was a smart girl and she knew better than to mention the languid swish of her master’s appendage ever since he watched you leave for an urgent task in Bimarstan. His eyes never left your form not until he could no longer see you from the distance — not even a dot. She also never commented on the flick his ears do when one of their colleagues bemoaned the lack of your presence. It was rather amusing and dare she say it, cute, at first but as time went on and Tighnari appeared more and more on edge, Collei found herself feeling sympathetic instead.

It was during the night when Tighnari has nothing else to do that he catches himself sighing, a pout slowly forming as he twisted and turned in his bed to no avail. His ears droop and as if shocked by the act himself, he immediately sits up rigidly with an embarrassed hue tainting his skin. It was so out of character for him to feel so needy and clingy that he could almost imagine the teasing grin you’ll wear if you were to ever catch him like this. Shaking his head with a mumbled string of curses, the forest watcher knew that there is no hope of catching any sleep that night so he instead takes the notepad by his bedside and prepares to go outside. Now, he’d advise against this on normal occasions but this was him and he’d argue that no one knew the forest better than he does so it should be fine. He doesn’t plan on staying out for long anyway.

Before long the sun was rising and in just a few hours, the forest watchers would wake to start their morning patrol. Tighnari barely made it back without being caught cradling an assortment of flowers in his arms. For research, he’d determined to say if inquired about but anyone who had a mind of their own would spot the lie quite easily. And truly, even if they didn’t exercise their mind at all, one sight of Tighnari carefully preserving the Kalpalata Lotus he gathered was enough of a clue. It takes not a genius to connect the dots between the flora and the way he’d teasingly call you his lotus or some other variety when he’s feeling mischievous enough to fluster you to oblivion.

But again, like some unwritten rule, don’t comment on the new decorations you have in your room when you arrive back. Though unsaid, each flower stands for each sleepless night, and having that thought to warm you up is much better than the hour-long lecture you’d have to endure should you use his affection against him.

TAGLIST - click here to be added/removed ; remove 'href.li/?' if inaccessible

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @pumpikun @fiannee @nejibot @kzuhs @akiraswriting

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。SINKING IN SQUARE OCEAN

━━ PAIRING: tartaglia/reader

━━ CONTAINS: modern!au, usage of childe's real name, briefly mentioned college!au, childe is over 20, exes to open interpretation, not beta'd

━━ WORDCOUNT: 0.9k

━━ NOTES: figure it's childe who drags me back here. enjoy whatever this is that i thought of at 2am and wrote while half-asleep. anyway, don't be like them who wait for or send messages to your exes xoxo

━━ CHILDE'S BIRTHDAY 2023

A taunting red circle with the number 46 written on it (in some random Sans Serif font he couldn’t care less about) mocked him. He thought about it—played with the idea of tapping the irrationally vibrant gradient of the app and just copy-pasting a half-assed 'thank you' message stored and minutely edited in his notes app before tapping send and rinsing and repeating and—in the end, he chose to cling immaturely to the sincerity hidden under the wraps of his fragile humanity. He thinks of it this way; like the unsettling emptiness that sinks in when the bouncing Sony logo doesn’t hit the corners of the television screen. He doesn’t think he can bring himself to be half-hearted to anyone when they went through the trouble of greeting him on his special day. It’s a lonely feeling to be disregarded. He knows that. He’s the special boy of the day but he feels disregarded, and it’s a lonely feeling, and he’s reminded of it all over again so he groans into his pillow, suffocates himself a little before he’s back again to staring at the taunting red circle. 46 messages but none of them were from who he wanted it from the most.

He’s prepared himself for the inevitable disappointment at least three days ago. He’s psyched himself up saying ‘C’mon Ajax! It’s just a message! You can do without it!’ because yes, he can do without another repetitive, standard greeting that may or may not have confetti or cake emojis. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t count. He doesn’t hold it against anyone if they didn’t tag him on an Instagram story with a picture of him and their person together. It was fine. Pleasantries are overrated anyway.

So why? Why did this one—or the lack of it—hurt?

He’s not the perfect boyfriend. He thinks he’s particularly an even worse ex-boyfriend because ex-boyfriends cut you some slack and give you some space and never think about your shared times together at 11:45PM the night before an early shift. Good ex-boyfriends don’t stare at their phones, refreshing profiles and friends’ profiles for even the faintest shadow of their ex. Okay ex-boyfriends don’t make burner accounts like a freaking stalker just so he can still press the tiny heart button at the corner because he does like-love it. The photo. You. Who knows. But what he does know is that even bad ex-boyfriends let go and that’s the thing. Letting go is the one thing he can’t do and it all comes rounding back to his predicament. He’s staring at the taunting red circle that remains unchanging even as he blinks and swipes and opens and exits other apps. It stays the same.

Someone knocks on the door and he mumbles an unintelligible reply. He thinks he hears a ‘Good night, ‘Jax. Happy Birthday’ from his mother. When her footsteps recede and leave him back to the solitary confines of silence and his yellowed walls, it was 12:02AM. His entire arm feels cold and it’s partly because the fan was hitting it and partly because blood has moved down from how he’s been holding his phone while lying in bed. It’s uncomfortable. He feels his palm turning sweaty too.

So he drops it.

It falls and hits his hip and he winces while it clutters to his side over rumpled Spiderman bed sheets that he’s had since he was eight. Honey-ginger fans against his freckled cheeks before it settles, closing finally and accepting the nihility that comes with the darkness.

But then he snaps them open again and he blindly reaches for his phone, furrowing his brows as he’s assaulted by the light from his lock screen—a family picture taken on a very bright sunny day. He ought to change it for midnights like this. Later though, after he sets an alarm because he has to earn some way and tomorrow, he’s on the early shift.

It’s 12:08AM when he freezes. A taunting red circle with the number 47 written on it (in some random Sans Serif font he couldn’t care less about) mocked him. His thumb hovers over it, controlled by his mind that chastises his heart for feeling ecstatic when it can be anything but the thing he wished for when he blew his birthday candles. In the end, he steels himself from disappointment all over again, tapping the corner and feeling ice-cold water pour over him as he sees your nickname.

“Happy Birthday. More birthdays to co”

He knows that—knows you, knows that the ‘o’ in the keyboard is close to the ‘send’ beside the text bar so before you could try to exit the app or pretend to be offline, his fingers that were tensing from the cold aftermath of the rain were fumbling to type a reply.

“Tank u but mt bday is yestrday :P”

He cringes at the typos and the reply and the emoticon and he never wanted to die as much as he did today, a day after his twenty-something birthday. He lost count. Time stopped for him at twenty—at the day he moved back into his family home after dropping out of college and leaving you.

With his eyes squeezed tightly, he mutters hopes and wishes to a god he didn’t believe in. Still, he was willing to convert if they spared him the aftershocks of birthday magic. It’s only ten minutes after his birthday. That’s got to count for something, right? 

Seconds trickle by slowly but it appears. Three dots circle and dance cyclically and hesitantly but they do and he knows, at least, that the conversation’s not over yet, and that for now, that’s enough.

© 2023 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。VENUS IN YOUR LOVE

━━ INCLUDES: il capitano, il dottore, scaramouche, pantalone, tartaglia

━━ SUMMARY: he makes you dizzy. he makes you crave. he makes you lose yourself in the desire to be swallowed by the immense heat and the blinding light of his love; or a snippet of what to expect when involved in a romantic relationship with the characters.

━━ CONTAINS: established relationships, highly suggestive themes, making out, usage of terms of endearment (none gender specific), innocent nudity (il capitano), size differences, dottore and his experiments, power imbalance (il dottore, pantalone, scaramouche), potentially ooc characters, toxic relationships?, the harbingers and everything they stand for

。IL CAPITANO — “ the captain | number ??? ”

Natlan was a very humid place, a direct opposite of Snezhnaya where the cold seeps into your bones until you, yourself, become nothing but cold. Still, he was first and foremost a warrior, and weather conditions are the least of a warrior’s concerns. Such things can be braved through and should you be unable, then that merely meant that you are undeserving of standing under the azure banner of Her most noble Majesty, the Tsaritsa. You are, therefore, not a warrior but a fool that marches towards your death while wearing a warrior’s skin, and the Captain had no respect for such people. Perhaps that is why he had not spared a single glance to the direction of his soldier that lie fainted on the ground. Instead, he had looked towards the others who hesitated between helping their comrade and risking the wrath of the displeased Harbinger or leaving them to die under the glare of the sun despite the guilt that was likely to consume them.

“Burdensome.” He had finally uttered after a long and tense silence. “Leave them or help them. It matters not to me.”

With that, the Harbinger walks away, the haunting click and clang of his armor sending shivers down the spines of his troop as they scurried to take the fainted Fatuus to the shade. Capitano was heading to the east of the encampment, the direction of his private tent where he had asked you to wait. Normally, he’d think twice before letting you tag along to his endeavors but his strange attachment wound up clouding his judgment. No matter… In war, the victors always had their share of spoils and you, his darling, are his prize. None who dare receive his wrath would lay a hand on you — not like he’d let anyone near you in the first place.

As he entered the tent, he anticipated your smaller form to leap into his embrace just as you had done the other times. To his surprise, his hidden gaze caught sight of you sweating, eyes droopy as you fan yourself with a stack of papers you found lying around. You had long since removed your coat, leaving you only in the cotton innerwear he had so generously gifted you. With a quiet call of your name, you turned your head slightly as you sent your lover a weak smile.

“Welcome back, my love. Is everything faring well outside?”

The Captain made no move to answer you, instead pulling your weak form towards him as he wiped your face gently. His touch was so careful that you barely felt the touch of the towel on your heated skin, “How do you feel?”

“Hot,” you whispered back, leaning into his body. His armor placated your feverish self slightly whilst his hold made you lose the edge you donned earlier, “Perhaps I never should’ve underestimated the fierceness of Natlan.”

An amused huff left him, or you supposed it was one as he stood up from his crouched position. With one arm around the plush of your thighs, he lifted you along just as he had done many times before. His strength has always struck wonder in you, you mused as your eyes fluttered closed, trusting him wholly to take you wherever. Without noticing, you had dozed off and you were only aroused once more when you feel the humid air brushing against your bare skin and then suddenly, a refreshing cool that revitalizes your energy.

“This should cool you down,” he uttered as he watched you dip further into the tub. A sense of satisfaction fills his dark heart when you suddenly smiled at him brightly, shyly muttering a word of gratitude for his kind act. You reach out for his hand and he takes it. He always does.

For this was how Capitano was with you. He was not the respected man who had unmercifully claimed uncountable victories in the name of vengeance and you, one of his disposable men. No, you are his treasure — his lover. Your fragility was endearing and something he fought to preserve. You are pure and unblemished, a reminder of home as you fall into his arms like a precious snowflake: his inamorata, the reason he fights.

“Eyes,” he tells you and you eagerly close them as you hear the clanking of metal that overwhelms you not with dread but with adoration. Not even a second later, your body shivers in delight as you feel a hand grip your chin firmly but not harshly — no, never. You are too precious for that. You wait for a second but nothing came and you knew that he was once again admiring you despite your impatience. A gloved knuckle traces over your cheekbone and you are light; a mere feather in the wind compared to his might.

You speak his name, gently as if you are wary of breaking the moment, but soon, the water moves along with your body as he tugs you into him for a much-awaited kiss. That is if you can call whatever you were blessed with a kiss. The Harbinger was a warrior and warriors spare nothing in their conquests. It made sense that you, at the receiving end of his attention, were spared nothing. He devoured your existence until only the willingness to keep giving him your entirety remained. As his tongue clashes with yours, your treacherous heart craves more and more of his taste. He’s addicting, you sigh out as he pulls back to nibble at your lip, pulling at it slightly before diving back in with renewed fervor. The Captain was fire and he burns his way into you as his large hands squeezed your flesh in raw desire. You’d have him engrave himself to you if he could — until you’re nothing but an extension of him and his will. He would never though. He'd sooner cut his arms off himself than lay a finger on you. It makes you smile, giddy even. The soft tickle of his breath fans your lips and you inch closer, arms gripping his forearms for leverage as you breathe him in.

Sooner than you’d like, he parts from you, and the thumb that flies to play with the string that remains to connect you two makes you think that he too enjoys this game of carnal conquest to the point of wishing to prolong it forever. The familiar clicking came again and you take the small tap he gave you as a sign to welcome the world once more. When you open your eyes, he was already covered by his armor. The only proof of his actions prior was yourself. Need-glazed eyes that lay lidded and wet lips that are parted for each puff of breath. Had this not been a common occurrence between the both of you, you would’ve felt ashamed at how debauched you looked from a mere kiss. He has always been different — so capable of giving rise to foreign feelings in you. The heat in your cheeks and the heavy beating of your heart are proof of that and you were sure you could do anything to keep receiving from him. Who else could reduce you to someone so, so lovestruck that it prompts even a chuckle out of a usually composed man?

“Take your time with your bath. I will make sure no one intrudes on us.”

。IL DOTTORE — “ the doctor | number two ”

“Darling,” he calls for you and you immediately look up from your book to gaze in his direction. You don’t move but you do stifle a sigh as he continues with nothing. You see, he has gained a rather annoying habit of adoringly watching you stare at him eagerly whenever he calls. He likens you to an obedient puppy and you weren’t quite sure what to make of it yet. Perhaps the ever-growing frown on your face caught his attention because his lips parted in a wide grin, showing off his sharp, pearly teeth as he patted his lap invitingly, “come over, please.”

You knew better than to take his words as a request you had a say in.

When you were close enough, an arm wrapped around your waist to tug you into him rather unceremoniously. You barely caught yourself from falling into him, hands securely on his broad shoulders and knees on either side of his thighs as he leaned back to admire the view. Before you could bark a complaint, the Doctor cheekily moved his other hand to your neck, grazing a thumb across your sensitive spot before resting it by the juncture of your shoulder, “Hello there. I have a need for your assistance.”

“How may I help you, Doctor?” You reply, breathier than you would’ve preferred and glaringly flustered much to your lover’s delight — one he made no move to hide whatsoever.

“I have an experiment to complete today and I’d like you to take note of my observations. You’ll help me, won’t you?”

The Harbinger let his hand fall from your neck to the small of your back, adjusting his position so his lips were a breath away from yours. You swallow, nodding but forgetting your position so each bob of your head had your lips brushing against his. It’s embarrassing to feel even more heated from such an innocent act.

“Lovely! You’re so precious, truly. That’s why you’re my favorite.”

As if giving a reward or better yet, a treat, for your satisfactory response, the Doctor succumbs to your needy gaze, pressing his lips into yours into a messy kiss. He tilts his head to reach you deeper, and you respond in kind, arching your back to be closer to him. He tastes faintly of alcohol — the strong kind and the realization that there was never an “enough” came to you like a life-changing discovery. You wanted to be so, so close to him that you break the laws of the world and become one with him down to the smallest atom. You want to keep carding your fingers through the silken strands of his hair; keep consuming the minute pain that come with the crescents he digs into your flesh. You want him — need him even in this world already filled with such madness.

The Doctor moves away from your lips, ignoring your whine to relish the way you swallow harshly when he trails a finger down the slope of your neck. He can’t help the way he’s so hyper-fixated on it. It’s beautiful, he thinks, and even more so, the vulnerability it carries and the way a mere touch would leave you with your legs weak. The devilish smile he wore did not go unnoticed but as if sensing your question, the Doctor moves his head like a predator pouncing on prey. A moan spills out of your lips as he sucked on the delicate part of your flesh, proudly looking at the darkening bruise he left when he finished. Gloved fingers trace over it lightly and if you didn't know any better, lovingly. Warmth rushes to your cheeks, almost scalding you as you instinctively straightened your posture. His sharp gaze is on you again. You know it. You feel it even when his eyes are covered by that mask.

“A gift for you, darling, for being such an obedient pet.” A shaky breath leaves your lips and your unfocused eyes followed his hands as he motioned for someone to come closer, “Beta will take care of you for the day. Be good.”

“Is it truly wise to let them partake in the experiment, Prime?” A more high-pitched version of the voice of your lover — similarly much younger — resounded in the room. Though his words were blunt, you sensed no animosity in them.

“I’d love to deal with this myself but Regrator’s request is not one to be left ignored for long. Besides, our darling here knows better than to doze off while doing something important, isn’t that right?”

You nod mindlessly, withdrawing from Prime’s grip to stand beside Beta who had been watching the whole exchange curiously, “If that is your decision, then I won’t question you further. You should know what you’re doing.”

The older segment merely huffed in amusement before waving you off, though, that is not without a final warning towards his younger segment.

“Not to worry.” he grins in reply, similar but rather crazed as his gaze turns to you. “The absolute pursuit for knowledge is not our only similarity.”

The nerves that swelled in you quickly quieted down when Beta reaches down to clasp your hands, entangling them before pressing a lingering kiss on the back of yours. It was innocent enough, if not for the familiar cloud in his exposed eye. The thought of what you cannot comprehend, but anticipate regardless, brings a small shiver down your spine. Whether that is out of excitement or fear is a question you cannot quite answer in your current state of mind.

Prime raises a brow before laughing though the deadly glint in his eyes did not go unnoticed by his younger counterpart, “How curious, indeed. I’ll allow such a ludicrous fantasy but learn your place. I do not like sharing what is mine.”

When you feel his gaze on your skin again, you swiftly look down in fear of how you’ll react. His eyes always left you feeling uneasy — like he could decipher every secret you hold no matter how hard you try to hide them. How deep your affection for the madman runs, for example, is a secret you’d rather be left unsaid. At least for the time being when you are unsure of how far you’ve fallen from sanity yourself.

“Fascinating how love runs you mad,” Dottore mutters before grinning once more, ego practically oozing off his figure as he leans back into his chair, “Off you go now, darling. We shall continue our exchange later.”

。PANTALONE — “ regrator | number nine ”

Regrator was a generous man if you were one of those he favors.

One stray gaze is all it takes for him to wave his hand, adorned with silver rings that glint under the afternoon sun. Albeit wordless, the merchant immediately scampered away, hands clumsily packing the object in haste as if he had a blade pressed against his neck. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to being spoiled like this. Subconsciously, your hand reached out for his luxury fur coat, gripping it to catch his attention. Your hold was weak; both shy and wary, knowing full well that the fabric likely costs more than your entire existence.

The Harbinger averts his piercing gaze from the merchant and down to you, his empty smile shifting into something softer as he caught sight of your fumbling form, “What is it, my dear?”

“Thank you for being so generous, milord.”

Yes, Regrator was a most generous man for his darling and he had taught you very well to never decline the kindness he seldom spares. He’d much rather receive your thanks and your most precious gaze — bashful and awe-filled. He tilts your head with his fingers, appreciating the heat that seeps through his leather gloves.

“Of course, anything for you. But then,” his eyes crack open to peer at you slyly. Oh, how lovely you are… “what do we do again in this situation?”

Cued, you take his wrist in your hand as leverage before standing on your toes to press a kiss on his cheeks. Gloss stains the spot you touched and as you moved to swipe it off, the Ninth turns his face to press a kiss just above where your pulse beats. Your body trembles at his attention, and when you tried to take a step back to regain your composure, Pantalone immediately catches you by the waist. He leans closer, smile unchanging even as his breath brushed over your cheeks.

“Do not stray too far away from me, dearest. It’s rather cold outside.” A noise of acknowledgment escapes your lips as you glance back at the merchant who was silently gawking at you two with his hand outstretched. “Ah, yes. Guards—”

One of the many Fatuus under him soundlessly took his newest purchase, tossing Mora carelessly into the merchant who scrambled to pick it up from the snow-dusted street of Snezhnaya. Some foreign emotion swells beneath your ribs as you stare at the man kneeling before you. Right, beside the Ninth Harbinger, the rest of the world seems just a little short of being completely beneath you. He had a way of making everyone feel as if they are unworthy of his presence. In every word, in every breath, in every act, Pantalone radiates an aura so untouchable and glorious that even the shadow he casts over you makes you feel like power flows in your veins more eminently than even the blood that fuels your life.

“Shall we go then? We’ll be late for our appointment.”

And you rejoice in it. You’d place his pedestal above the gods if it’s what it takes to continue basking under the heat of his ambition. You’d follow him to hell and back if it meant that you can continue to bear witness to his incomparable splendor. This maddening pursuit is what makes you take his hand in yours, letting him lead you to the finest clothesmaker in the nation.

“Lord Harbinger! Please, take a seat here while I prepare drinks for you and your guest!”

It takes but a tug before his coat is undone and passed to one of his men and but a stride before he is sat majestically on the soft, red couch, one leg over the other as he peers over you through the edges of his glasses, “Go on then, dear. Shop to your heart’s delight.”

Admiration makes your eyes gloss over as you follow one of the shop assistants into the changing room. Sending one last glance towards his casual form, only one thought races in your mind: he’s beautiful. The skin-tight suit moves with each flex of his muscle while his dark hair pools along his shoulders like the waterfalls of Fontaine. He’s beautiful and he knows it, just as he knows you’ve been eyeing him as you disappear behind the curtain. It fills the Ninth with pride and adoration, as well as — he chuckles under his breath — the sensual desire to bring you to your tears as you approach nirvana. He was greedy, after all, and his greed shows most when it comes to the most glorious sight he has set his eyes on.

The thing about the Harbinger is that he knows what he wants and he quite finds violets and blues quite ravishing on your body. The need to please him fills you like your own greed as you immediately ask to see all such clothing. He’s got you quite comfortably dancing in his palm and the electricity that shakes your heart proves that there’s no place you’d rather be.

The clock ticks and with each second, Regrator’s finger taps mindlessly on the armchair. He exhales slowly, finding that he quite likes this and that he should make a habit out of taking you out to buy out shops more often. He has done his share of shopping, idly turning the pages of a catalog as he points here and there for the shop owner to take note of. Diamonds, pearls, and his favorite, Alexandrite — he spared nothing as he chose pieces of jewelry to add to both yours and his collection. The mere thought had him reeling in thinly veiled excitement.

His attention snaps to you as soon as he heard footsteps approach. Immediately, his smirk widens and you instinctively retreat to yourself as you feel his eyes trace over every inch of your frame, “You look ravishing, doll.”

You sent him a wobbly smile in reply.

“Won’t you give me a twirl?” Obediently, you did as told. Your embarrassment grows as you hear Pantalone mutter sweet compliments under his breath, “Truly my most prized jewel. Come here for me.”

For some reason, each step toward him felt like a step toward your demise. Then again, if this is what demise feels like, you’d gladly welcome it with open arms. Regrator makes you sit in between his leg, hand gripping both of your cheeks before catching your puckered lips into his own. The aggression was new — though not unwanted because that you drank all up. So close, you could smell the dizzying scent of his perfume. It was something along the lines of ambroxan and bergamot, you think as he slid his hand up your thigh. Teeth clashing, love crazy, and so, wonderfully messy. Pantalone’s desire washes over you like an ocean wave and sends you crashing down into the deepest depths of your mind. He’s your obsession and when he leaves your lips to insert a new ring on your finger, vibrant color matching the deep hue of your blouse, you seek him out once again with a rekindled need to drink up every last drop of him.

。SCARAMOUCHE — “ the balladeer | number six ”

The Balladeer had always been a horrible liar, you muse to yourself, as you sneakily eyed him from your corner in his office. Sure, he can fix his expression on a whim — a perfect face accentuating his words that seemed kind enough at first glance. Though perhaps, one of the rewards of being able to worm your way into his empty heart was noticing how his eyes are too expressive for his own good. Maybe that’s why he chooses to crinkle them shut whenever he smiles or why he’s so quick to avert his gaze when you peered deep into his soul after each profession of love. He's such a bad liar or maybe, you’ve just learned to read him too well.

Even now as he busied himself with signing some paperwork Lord Pierro required, he was so easy to read. His fingers tapped rapidly into his desk and his eyes fleeted from his work to the corner of his table. It wouldn’t take long before he snaps and not even a minute later — just as you anticipated, his gaze soon zeroed into you, mouth forming a snarl that would have any regular Fatuus running away with their tail in between their legs.

“Will you stop gawking at me like some kind of cretin?!”

“Why?” You smirk in reply, completely unbothered by his insults and crossing your legs as you spot the beginnings of a blush on his skin. “Do I make you nervous, Lord Harbinger?”

“Nervous? Hah, are you hearing yourself? Why would I be nervous at the sight of you?”

You stood up then, footsteps loud and clear as you approach him from his place by his desk. You leaned closer, delighting in the fact that Scaramouche instinctively retreated farther into his chair to place some distance between you two. “Why don’t you tell me, Scaramouche? Maybe this time you’d be willing to admit how far you’ve fallen for me?”

“Shut up.”

And yet despite his glare, the Harbinger made no move to push you away. If anything, he seemed as if he was expecting something as he gulped nervously, eyes flickering from your mischievous eyes and down to where your most enticing lips remained frozen into an innocent grin. You knew what he was thinking. He was so easy to read, after all. He wanted to be kissed senseless and perhaps, that was your fault. After all, this is far from being the first time such a conversation happened, and all the other times, you always made sure to fix his attitude by shutting him up in the most effective way you knew.

“Hm… You’re really so cute, honey,” you laugh as you move closer to him, nails digging into his files as you watched his eyes flutter close, “but you’re so much cuter when you try to bite me.”

With that, you abruptly pulled away, snickering when Scaramouche’s eyes blow wide open the moment he heard you take a step back, “You-! What do you think you’re playing at?!”

“I don’t know, what did you want from me? If you tell me, I’d happily give it to you. You have me so weak, after all...”

The Sixth doesn't reply, only glaring at you fiercely as his blush grew brighter. You could see the way his fingers dug into his palm and for a moment, you wondered if you teased him too much this time. Before you could utter a word of concern, you gasped as a pale hand clutched your collar and tugged you harshly forward. You were about to curse Scaramouche when he suddenly crashed his lips into yours, eliciting a small squeak from you before you relax into his hold naturally.

Why would the Balladeer ever be gentle? His grip on your clothes was tight, making sure you won’t pull away as he took what it was that he desires. He always gets what he wants and right now, he wants the aftertaste of the tea he brewed to quench the thirst that leaves a gaping void in his insides. That’s why he didn’t think twice before leaning even more forward into his desk, spare palm firmly pressed against the polished, wooden frame, body bending, and mind reeling at the way your hands fell from his hair to his nape. Do you always have to be intoxicating? His eyes welled up from feeling so overwhelmed yet wanting more, more, more and more until he's positive that you've broken him down completely. He parts his lips, letting your tongue trace around his mouth as if claiming territory that you should know, without saying, is yours. Ironically, his lips are soft and they glide along yours like silk — so much so that you can barely bring yourself to leave.

A groan escapes his lips as you pull on his hair, exposing his bare skin to you. “Pretty boy… This time, will you tell me what you want?”

Your blown-out eyes make him release a shaky breath, “You… I want your love.”

The smile that decorated your face was involuntary and you moved to massage his scalp that you had previously been cruel on. Peppering kisses on his cheek, you adored the way Scaramouche tried to subtly nuzzle into the hand you cupped his face with.

“What’s with that request?” You finally replied as you met his forehead with yours. “It’s not smart to ask for something you already have.”

“All of it,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze but voicing no complaint when you gently turned his face back to yours.

“All of it?”

He huffs, faking the haughty demeanor he always had but you knew. His hopeful eyes cannot hide a single thing from you, especially not when he closes the distance between you two again. “Yeah… From now on, only look at me. Don’t leave me, not even for a second.”

。TARTAGLIA — “ childe | number eleven ”

Tartaglia’s youth oozes into his love — into the way he would giggle as he takes you in his strong arms, lifting you up before twirling you around, and into the way he would excitedly present you with matching articles for you to wear. He never fails to warm you up with innocent bliss even when you’re play wrestling with him for the last piece of candy. He's the purest sense of joy you’ve ever had the pleasure of possessing and if you could ever share even a fragment of how you make him feel, you’d do it in a heartbeat. That’s how you ended up here: hiding behind his couch in between his younger siblings like you were once again seven and buzzing with the childish exuberance stolen from you by adulthood.

It had not been easy hiding your exploits from the sharp eyes of your lover. He was trained to spot every minute detail and you don’t claim yourself to be the most careful secret holder out there. By some miracle (and partly because he was often out doing business), you were able to hide the surprise from him. It was July 20 and you both were lucky enough to be assigned to be on standby in your home country for his birthday.

You snap out of your thoughts when the door creaks open and the heavy footsteps of his boot-clad feet permeated the air, “Ma? Pa? Are you home?”

Tartaglia — or Ajax as he prefers to be called inside the four corners of his residence mumbles something about how they were all probably out fishing as he dusted off the snow in his hair. Beside you, Teucer stifled a giggle as he found the irony in his words to be quite entertaining. You turned your gaze towards his mother who nodded as a signal.

“1,” You count under your breath as you repositioned the confetti in your hands. For the sake of everyone’s safety, you advised against the ones that make a loud, popping sound and all his older siblings agreed solemnly, “2, 3!”

“Happy Birthday!”

Ajax flinched in surprise, fingers nearly summoning his bow before he recognized your warm smile. With that, the sudden tension in his body was released and he laughed loudly, catching his younger brother in his arms when he ran up to him, “Woah there! Who would have ever guessed that you’d all sneak behind my back like that?”

“You’re welcome, brother,” Tonia rolls her eyes teasingly as she approached with a birthday cake that his mother baked herself.

“Yeah, yeah… Thank you very much lil’ sis. Your kindness will not remain unpaid.”

You snort as your lover faux curtsied, dodging the halfhearted slap of his equally amused sister. A cough made you turn your head to your left, meeting the weary eyes of his father who muttered his thanks for looking after his son.

“It’s no trouble at all,” you turn your gaze just in time to meet his curious one, “I’m just trying to give him what he always deserved and more.”

His older brother who was listening in made a joke of not knowing how his annoying little brother managed to catch someone like you but before you could reply, a pair of familiar arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his chest, “Not speaking ill of the birthday boy, I hope?”

“Nothing new now, isn't it?”

His family greeted him one by one before they left to give you some space under the guise of helping arrange the dinner spread. His warm breath caressed the side of your neck as he hummed happily, swaying you side to side by the beat of his own making. By the chorus, he twirls you around before pulling you back in and grinning at the way you automatically looped your arms around his neck.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” you murmur before pressing a quick peck on his lips.

“Mhmm…” Ajax pulls you impossibly closer by the waist as he grins, eyes bright and youthful now that he had you in his embrace, “So this is why you’ve been acting weirdly this past week?”

“You noticed?”

He laughs lightly at that, pulling back an arm just to flick your forehead, “Baby, it’s impossible not to notice every single thing about you.”

“Damn, you’re so in love with me.”

You lean closer and Ajax, always so willing to be pulled into everything about you, follows in kind with a proud smirk. “Damn right I am.”

Tartaglia’s youth oozes into his love — into the way his deep kisses are never just passionate but also fun. He giggles under his breath like a young teenager in love, fingers drawing shapes on your bare skin as he slides his hand innocently under your shirt. His hands are warm, you realize, and goosebumps follow the trail of his touch without any effort. You could feel the curve of his smile against your own at this, and joy bubbles in your heart and into your throat until you can’t help but whisper an “I love you” as you part briefly for air.

“I love you,” he says back, hand withdrawing from your back to your head as he tugs you closer into him, “so much.”

Ajax dips back in, abandoning the gentleness he usually reserves for you. Instead, he embraces the lust in him — the part that craves the mess and the victory that lies after complete domination. He fights you for power, ignoring the needy whimpers that escaped you as you succumb to your faith. All he does is pull you closer and closer until close loses its meaning and you’re all but one and the same. The force that comes from his heady sigh sends you stepping back but he follows — he chases after you until you’re backed and sat on the sofa’s backrest. Ajax wastes no time slotting himself in between your legs as you scramble to get a grip.

“Well, babe…” He grins with a near-crazed expression. His chest rises up and down rapidly as he tried to chase the breath he lost in your exchange, “You better hope you’re ready to take every drop of my love tonight.”

TAGLIST / be added or removed here

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @pumpikun @fiannee @nejibot

** remove "href.li/?" from the link if you cannot access it

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。BUT EVEN JUPITER HAS BOUTS OF MERCY

━━ INCLUDES: albedo, diluc, tartaglia, xiao

━━ SUMMARY: for the first time in years, jupiter budged from his flux — his storms softening into one that might welcome room for optimistic outlooks for the future; or his point of view in the events that transpired, plus what happened after you confronted him, learning that all this time, the relationship you valued was a mere ploy in order to escape his admirers

━━ CONTAINS: fake dating!au, modern!au, highschool!au (albedo), college!au (xiao), language (childe and xiao), dubious mental states, questionable scientific and philosophical themes + others, alcohol mention (non-consumption), open-ended?

━━ PREREQUISITE: jupiter was cruel

。 ALBEDO — “ princeps cretaceus | chalk prince ”

before you, albedo never really cared much about social interaction nor did he see any point in interacting with his classmates when they were unlikely to give any useful feedback about his research. it wasn't as if he thought of himself as someone above other people because there was a time when he stood by the swings of a playground, watching and wishing he was one of the people who ran away from the seeker in a game of hide-and-seek. it's not exactly a big deal as every child goes through a rather playful phase while growing up but the five-year-old albedo struggled to fit inside the world he looked upon with wonder.

he was older now and that desire to belong has evaporated as he found through trial-and-error that he was perfectly fine as he is. faint traces of contentment flickered inside his bright, curious eyes as one by one, likeminded individuals drew close to him like birds of the same species and genus flocking together. social interaction was far from his strongest suit, especially when it's not with sucrose or his senior, timaeus, but it was a task he did nevertheless for the sake of his academic pursuit. at the very least, he had the company of the wonderful strangeness of science and for that alone, he was able to pour dozens of sleepless nights reading through piles of full-text articles that always left the right amount of his curiosity sated and the right amount of questions that would leave him wanting more. the most recent conclusion he had was about himself. he was happy being the quiet honor student that nobody quite knew. he was content that he already has plans for the future, no matter how loose: a degree in biological sciences and if he was lucky, then maybe he'd chance upon a world-changing discovery. if not, well, it wasn't as if that was a priority for albedo believed himself to be relatively simple and old-fashioned — just a kid who wanted to learn so much more.

when he was eight-years-old, a child the same age as he approached him by the swings — his spot. they told him that he looked like he was feeling down and he wondered how they came to that conclusion when he had always worn a creepily emotionless face (as referred to by a bully in his class). they simply shrugged saying that some things didn't need an explanation because you just know and it was then that he realized that there was so much to learn from that person.

that was the last interaction he had with them and he wished it wasn't. he still remembered the way the tiny snickers bar fit in his tiny hands — a little something they gave to cheer him up. he never got to say thanks. he’ll be sure to do so, if he ever got the chance to meet them again but even albedo doubts that strange forces would make their paths cross again after ten years.

on his senior year, he was seated beside a face quite familiar and it took him two days of pondering to figure out that the stranger from his childhood now sits beside him in class. it was a curious turn of events and he was suddenly the same eight-year-old boy who struggled to strike up a conversation.

he knew you to be a quiet kid who no one dislikes. you’re always ready to lend your notes that were sometimes hurriedly scrawled with a regular ballpoint pen and sometimes decorated with pops of color from your assortment of highlighters. you sat with your friends at lunch, keeping to yourself like you all shared a bubble separate from the rest of the world. he never managed to catch your name, just that you and he interacted before and he remains to look back on it fondly.

he was observant so it was easy to see that your attention was easily stolen by a familiar shape on the clouds or something similar. you also procrastinated on science projects a lot and you would pull all-nighters the day before the deadline. you don’t think twice before lending him a pen when his ran out of ink while doing his experiment notes and you’re pretty observant yourself, giving him another snickers bar when he got caught up in astronomical research.

the next day, he was wondering what to say to you after staying up all night chastising himself for not saying thank you before you left. in no time, the bell rang and you were packing your things. it was… quite embarrassing to look back on and he said the first thing that came into his mind when he saw that you were stepping away from your desk.

���blood moons could be refreshing to look at,” he says before realizing just how awkward it was to randomly spout science trivia and averting his gaze to fake writing something on his notebook. he could feel your confused stare on his form for a brief second before you ultimately left, leaving him to regret his god awful social skills.

ah… he forgot to say thanks again… 

the next day, he spots the dark circles under your eyes and he wondered if you managed to complete the paper for your biology class on time. actions speak louder than words, he thinks as he slid a snickers bar to your table just as you had done before for him. he expected a little mumbled thanks or even a polite rejection but perhaps, he kept his head low too much for him to recognize the array of surprises his seat mate offered.

"in a lunar eclipse, the earth's atmosphere scatters most of the blue light which causes the remaining light to reflect on the moon with a red glow."

he found himself amused and a strange weightless feeling makes his heart spur. he doesn’t know what to reply but he realized that he just so happened to have his book about observed celestial events with him that day so that was what he slid over to you before you part ways.

interactions with you were limited to small things like that for a long while but he knew better. his seat mate, whose name he now knows after you introduced yourself thinking he never noticed you before, was more observant than he assumed. you weren’t the most sociable person to ever exist but you handle conversations well enough. it might be just him and the strange haze that overcomes him every time you talked but he can’t help but believe that you enjoyed and appreciated your interactions with him just as much.

he lacked the social skills that could deem him charming so it came to a surprise when a stranger approached him once more while he was walking home from a convenience store run. this time without the kind undertones of your gaze or the subtle mischievous lilt of your voice. it wasn't you and for a brief moment, he realized that it was only you who made social interactions a little less tedious than they actually were.

the stranger had sickly pale skin and an equally sick smile that had his mind flashing red in even intervals. the human instinct for danger caused the hairs on his skin to rise up in alarm, every single nerve aching to run and never look back. this... person spoke of an admiration that made his stomach churn — of a romance that he could not find any pleasure in. it wasn't everyday that his composure was broken but as he murmured an apology, albedo realized that his agitation was displayed white as day on his face.

everything that happened after was a blur and all he could vaguely remember was saying that he had already promised himself to someone else and that was not exactly a lie. so many days had passed since then and just as many were the days where he impulsively asked you out as he saw a strange shadow lurking behind the corner. pretending that things were perfectly fine so as to evade your worry was an easy task but he didn't know that the cost was hurting you even more.

the moon was neither cruel or merciful but it was beautiful and mysterious. it was something he would compare to the look on your face as he haphazardly confessed his feelings for you if only the uncertainty of the situation didn't terrify even the stone-faced scientist of year three's class b. the truth — his honest mistake and his uncharacteristic fear — gnawed on his throat like a secret waiting to be spilled but albedo, who has learned to hold your strangeness close to his heart, feared the expanding distance between you two. but now that the truth was spilled with neither of you willing to clean it up, the pale glow of the satellite above illuminated his way as he stepped into a neighborhood now familiar to him.

"...what are you doing here?"

though the moon may not be cruel, perhaps he was for allowing his dark sea of selfishness to dictate where his feet may lead.

"i have something to admit."

"leave, albedo." you whisper as you avoid his gaze, eyes red from what was left of your tears, "it's late. it's not safe for you to be outside."

"i'm— i'm not here to apologize. i don't think your forgiveness is something that i should have but i have to let you know the whole truth, at least."

you mimicked his words, "the truth? there's more to this than just you playing around?"

he didn't respond, only sighing as he tears his eyes away from your feeble form. the small silence was deafening but even more unnerving was the solemn smile that graces over your soft lips after giving him a once over. without once meeting your eyes, he told you everything — from the stranger to his brewing feelings to his conversation with timaeus.

"i knew," you sighed as you motioned for him to enter into your dimly lit home, "i told you i knew."

"everything?"

a humorless chuckle slips out of you as you fiddled with the hem of your pajamas. with little to no effort, you repeat the words you uttered just a few hours prior "you don't need to be a science genius to be observant. i guess it also helps that you're a horrible liar."

albedo doesn't reply for a while, gaze downturned before he accepts the small cup of water you were offering, "are you mad at me?"

"yes," you answered without missing a beat.

the spark from when your fingers grazed over his when you handed the cup turned into a fire that suffocated him from within. though he didn't see his reflection, he was certain that his eyes dilate at the slow-burning fear for what your approaching form could say next, "it was unfair of you to keep me in the dark when you could've easily told me. you knew i would help and don't give me the "i didn't want to pull you into my trouble" because that's not something you get to decide for me."

silence ensued for the longest time, well, at least for him. to you, only a minute and a half had passed as you phrased your following words in your head. time was not askew and it did none of the fancy slow-mo shots they do in overly tragic telenovelas. it was just silence — an unbearable kind that still had him waiting with bated breath.

"you know... you really suck at expressing your feelings," you snort humorlessly as you sat beside him a mere few inches away from touching him, "no one translates "we can't keep doing this forever" to "i can't keep giving you less than what you deserve." not like it matters because it's not your place to decide for me in any way. only i can do that for myself and i don't know where you or timaeus learned that it's okay to do that but it sucks for you guys because it doesn't matter what you think. if i'm happy and content in receiving all that your sincerity can offer then that's that. you don't get to argue or leave me hanging just because you think i deserve chocolates or flowers every other day."

this time, you don't miss the way albedo nibbled at his lips with a profound sense of loss. this conversation was something beyond what he could ever hope to expect. he was a so-called genius and his hypothesis included your screams of anger but seeing you so understanding made his heart constrict in a way that knocked him off his rational thoughts. 

"i'm sorry."

"what happened to "i'm not here to apologize?" came your snarky reply but not even a few moments later, you were uttering your own apology for your sharp tone, "i'm not... forgiving you. i don't think there's any way you can justify your actions but... i know you. you're socially awkward and you miss the innuendos that usually came with your innocent words. you're... i don't know... you're too honest and i knew that you cared loads for me as a friend and i return the sentiment. it doesn't matter if you could only see me as a friend for the rest of your life but... i don't want to lose you. i can't forgive you right now but i'm selfishly asking you to make it up to me... someway... somehow."

social interactions were not his cup of tea because it reminded him too much of everything that could go wrong with just one misplaced sentence. still, albedo finds himself with renewed determination to try, only following the correct steps this time around.

"you were wrong about one thing," he mumbles as he averts his gaze from yours one last time, "i do like you more than you believe i do. i like you enough to admit that you deserve more than the socially inept seat mate you have."

you snort, "if you're trying to win me back, please don't tell me that's your best shot."

"not precisely... i still have flowers and chocolates to give you every other day," albedo shakes his head with the beginnings of a mildly amused smile. 

it was eleven in the evening when you see albedo out of your house and you couldn't help but note how happy you are that you didn't sleep early and miss a night so beautiful with a perfect full moon.

。 DILUC — “ noctua | owl ”

how do you know if you love someone? is it when they make you remember yourself despite living in a world that makes you forget your unique identity? is it when you find someone's body to be just the right kind of warmth to wake up to? love was a strange thing and diluc often finds himself remembering that it was a terrifying thing too. love makes you do all sorts of extremes and the fear that your other half loves you less than you love them was enough to make him hesitate. 

how else would he piece himself back together when he is hurting if he was to avoid plotting a distance?

as a child, he never liked playing house. it all seemed too romanticized. sure, the domesticity was real but growing up with an adopted brother and a single father who he saw very rarely because of work made him realize a lot of things. kaeya would fight him over the littlest things and he would end up fighting back even when he swore he'll be the bigger person. it's not something out of hate as it was more out of mischief but it doesn't change the fact that those perfect, calm households all appeared to be a hoax when he looks at kaeya and the chaos he brews around himself.

still, diluc ragnvindr was a human who craved intimacy and a place to come home to. as cheesy as it sounds, it would be nice to find someone who'll find belongingness in his embrace like two puzzles clicking together. it must be fun to let loose and be mundane, dancing in the kitchen with blinking light bulbs waiting to be changed. he wondered how long it'll take for that person to enter the doors of his newly bought apartment — or rather, if he'll have the courage to let them in. as romantic as proclaiming "i'm home" is, he knew that an other half can turn into a stranger in minutes, leaving behind only the ruins of what that home was. it doesn't matter how long they stayed together because, in one second, he would've had only memories of what love was to cry over.

he's afraid of commitment. he was scared of losing. so what? he was fresh out of college and anything goes. he bumped into someone whose eyes screamed "welcome home" and the murky skies of his mind told him that it was best to just visit and go back on his merry way. diluc wasn't a romantic and so he definitely didn't believe in love at first sight. he was lonely, yes, but he wasn't quite insane enough to entrust a stranger he bumped into with all of his heart and wonder. instead, he handed you his handkerchief to wipe away the remnants of the coffee on your shirt, and gave you his number for renumeration. it was common courtesy and with that, he leaves.

it was by chance when he heard sobs inside the office pantry one year later, and ever the gentleman, he sat beside you silently in a wordless act of comfort. he's just being a decent human being, he argues as the wind howled in his head. he was certainly not patting your back despite his bones creaking from uncertainty and awkwardness because he felt drawn to you, and the hopeless thunder in his heart? it's likely only concern for his colleague. though time ticks away quickly and diluc never had a penchant for delaying his duties, he stays and hides the turmoil in his eyes behind voids akin to those in space. that way his beloved distance remains to keep him secure.

"thank you," you croak out with a pitiful smile, "sorry for ruining your handkerchief again..."

he swallows, tells you its fine before dismissing himself once more. he may be no astronomer but big bangs disturbed the heart he was trying to still. merely being objective, he convinces himself as he stared at his confused reflection. admitting that the constellations in your eyes — burning, passionate, explosive booms, and supernovas — were beautiful was merely being honest and factual, nothing more, nothing less.

diluc breathes, only to muffle a curse as kaeya cackled behind his back, "what's this i'm seeing? my dear brother has a crush on the intern?"

the world stills as if caught red-handed but diluc refused to plead guilty. instead, he shoots a glare and a muffled "you don't know what you're saying" before witlessly fixing the files on his desk. ever the troublemaker, kaeya begins chattering about you and diluc paid very little attention, too absorbed in tapping his fingers against the wooden frame in thought. 

he learned your name and objectively speaking, it suited your face a lot.

in retrospect, it was then that all went downhill as a particularly insistent business partner offered an heir's hand for his perusal. if only it ended there, but he had managed to catch the same heir's eye and they all but thrown themselves over his lap just to catch his attention. though thoroughly amused, kaeya took pity on diluc and told that person that he was, in fact, in a happy relationship with someone. to make matters worse, kaeya had offered your name, thus convincing diluc to talk to you before the heir sees through their blatant lie.

asking for your time was easy enough but as you peered into his soul with an innocent smile, his face contorted to one of nervousness and helplessness. how could he bring up that kaeya had dragged you into his mess and that he was hoping that you could help him in this horrible ruse? but even more troubling was the sweat in his palms, the fear of rejection in his heart — every minuscule detail that made this situation cherry-sweet and real. he knew it was wrong to fool you into thinking that it was all a lie but was it really wrong to crave intimacy minus the inevitability of being hurt? it was a madness he started and when you pulled him into an embrace as you accepted his feelings, diluc felt his guilt being washed away by light showers. how much was his statement a lie if it has always been the untold truth?

another year passed and the light showers that cleared his head has turned into a storm that flooded his mind with anxiety. everything felt vivid now. the way your hands cup his cheeks, the way you smile at him when he comes home from work, the way you ask him about his day — everything was real and the fear that came with the increasingly affectionate touches he gives you became less fictitious. 

he loves you. what has he done? how does he even begin to explain the truth that was hidden behind the curtain this past year? will you leave him because of it? he admits that it would be smart to do so.

"what time will you be coming home?"

“i’ll be ho—” he pauses, shaking his head with a deep frown before he turns his back on you, “i’ll be back by eight. you don’t need to wait for me.”

“it’s fine… i’ll wait for you no matter how long it takes. stay safe. i love you.”

he reluctantly nods and he feels you watch as his back vanishes from your line of sight. when he heard the door click close, diluc runs a hand down his face in frustration. a curse falls down his lips and he defeatedly looks up at the greying skies. you had reminded him of the weather forecast and if you weren't there, he'd probably be arriving at the office drenched. guilt boils down in his stomach and cools as remembers your sweet greetings. you were always too good to him — for him. though fear screams at him from the edges of his mind, he loves you and he feels that he owes you his honesty.

no matter the cost.

perhaps he was sick — crazy evil for still having the hope that maybe, just maybe, after all this time, you would still give him your favor and offer him a sweet and tender smile that eases all of his aches. would you cry? would you leave? his wounded heart trembles. if he thought you leaving him was bad enough, clearly he was unready for the sight of your tears; tears that he bought as it was ultimately he who drove the sword in, not kaeya who had merely suggested the idea in jest.

with an unreadable expression, diluc sank deeper into the luxurious seat of his car — the same one he bought because he was told it was charming to drive (the hidden intent of trying to boost his charm in your eyes must not go unrealized). he laughs emptily at that, starting the engine methodically as guilt once again eats him up like a bloodthirsty viper. if he could only have one wish, he’d hope that he could turn back time to the days that a mere mention of your name would send him into a fit of gut-wrenching remorse.

lies were dirty. lies were horrible. lies never amounted to anything good. and even after knowing all of that, you stay and diluc wonders why. had he been in your shoes, he would probably packed his bags and left a long while ago. no amount of water could wash away the grime that is the weight of a play-pretend that only had one willing actor. did it not hurt more than it’s worth? he slows to a stop as the light went from yellow to red and he takes this time to reminisce about his absence this past year. with that he decides that he truly was not worthy of any of your love.

not like it mattered, not ever. you were too kind and too generous; a true angel who spares no one their warm embrace.

with slow and heavy steps, diluc trudges towards the winding halls of his building. with the interest of an eroding rock, he attended his meetings. with the loud ticking of a clock, diluc signed paper after paper with a distracted glaze over his eyes. he was sure that his odd behavior earned him a few wary glances but that was a mere afterthought to his increasing dread. the only thing that could help him now was a boring routine — a routine that takes his mind away from the drive home and his confession. but even that can only take him so far as before long, he was once again facing the entrance to your house — home, really, if he was going to take his honesty with him.

his keys turned with a small ‘click’ and the door opens. warm, yellow light peeks out from the kitchen and he finds himself in a space he ironically feels comforted in. here, there is no anxiety. just your welcoming gaze and your apron-clad self in its full glory. somehow, even with the remnants of flour on your hands and cheeks, you’re still the epitome of purity.

was it finally time?

"i'm back,” he swallows but before he could dislodge the word from his throat, you beat him to it.

"welcome home," you smiled ever so gently, "so... how was your day?"

you’ve always been like this, playing your role with effortless ease that it hurts him.

"it was alright. have you eaten dinner yet?"

"i was waiting for you. let's?"

"let's."

and what can a selfish man do but find a salve that removes that burning pain of cowardice?

it took only five steps to find heaven and as it turns out, heaven was your hands tangled in his hair as you pulled him impossibly close, sweet lips pressed against his. it’s the irreplaceable kind and diluc was convinced that even if the world were to burn outside right now, he would not be able to part from the astronomical pull of your person — just as it had always been.

。 TARTAGLIA — “ monoceros caeli | narwhal sky ”

if he could laugh at only one joke for the rest of his life, he’d choose to laugh at himself and the immense foolishness that seemed to run through his veins more prominently than his own blood. he’s a fool — an even greater fool than the romanticists who adore all things reminiscent of their muse — for letting go of possibly the greatest love he’ll ever come across in his lifetime. 

growing up with doe-eyed sisters and a picturesque couple in his mother and father, ajax loved the idea of soulmates. he lived for it, daydreaming of one day locking eyes with someone who will always be there for him. he closes his eyes and he sees a beauty blessed by aphrodite and a heart favored by eros. just thinking about it makes him flex his hands that are hardened and scarred from an accident back when he was seven. he sees his muse shine radiantly as they cradle his rough hands into their own, pressing little kisses on each ruined flesh in a soft profession of “you’re perfect. everything about you from your unruly hair to your deep blue eyes to your tender gaze is perfect and i love you for it.” sure, maybe the poetries were exaggerated but those exaggeration bleeds of hope; of a determination to overcome even the most cruelest of pains and ajax, ever a fighter, finds that he loves it. if believing in everything that could go right instead of everything that could go wrong dubs him a fool, then a fool he should be and a proud one at that. he’s loved before and yes, they haven’t all been pretty but he thanks the stars and the moons above that he met them anyway. for him and probably every other brave soul out there, love is more than just meeting and tolerating. it is also finding and growing and being in the most preciously delicate of ways. it’s beautiful in a way that no man can ever hope to describe because it is all in the heart; all embedded in the soul that speaks its own kind of indecipherable language.

ariel was a warrior and he always believed it so. she took a leap of faith by trading what was dear to her person in order to gain and become one with someone who could give her so much more. cinderella, too, was a warrior. she overcome the fear and the years of doubt engraved into her being by her malicious family for the sake of coming home to someone who can wash away all that pain. that’s love — finding strength in another and becoming greater than you could ever be had you been walking on your own. love was as glorious as they claim it to be: it feeds your eyes images of a thousand fireflies and your stomach, a kaleidoscope of wild butterflies that dance in celebration of your fluttering heart. love was as magical as they claim it to be: ajax finding himself giggling with his siblings at 2am as they binged an obscure rom-com series from the 90s with colorful hopes for the future. the soft light of the television illuminates their face as they all proclaim in their heads, “someday… someday, that love will be mine and it will be more than enough.”

love isn’t a painkiller, at least, not to him. it’s something closer to a vitamin that invigorates your restless mind. love is something supernatural and yet, so ironically mundane. it’s not a one-two fix for any of your woes but it does leave you laughing incredulously as you find yourself charging ahead with your flames renewed. maybe he’s lived a relatively peaceful life to be able to say such words but everything seemed so easy as long as he could find it in his trembling legs to jump and free fall into whatever that may come to pass. he’s blessed that way; that his family taught him how to nurture another’s soul while letting them return the favor; that the authors in the few books he has read all spoke of how despite being imperfect and scared, people still choose to love just because they could; that the old ladies in the nursing home he volunteers at all said that while hurt has come to them in more ways than one, they bore no regrets because the happiness they gained from their experiences patches that hurt all too easily. it’s strange and complex and far too intricate for his simple mind but he knew that if there is only one thing and one thing alone that he knows for sure, it’s that people need love.

love is what colors the world with the blue in his eyes and the pink on his flushed cheeks. love is what makes him see glimpses of yellow and green at each blooming romance of young high schoolers who are still testing the waters. it’s a vibrant, mind-blowing shade that throws even the power of jupiter to shame. after all, what else will you call a power so supreme that it pushes you to live, live, and live some more? he has yet to find that kind of love for himself but he knows that it will come eventually. someday, he will love someone and they will love him back and they would put james dean and audrey hepburn to shame. they will dance with him to the tune of ‘can’t help falling in love’ because they truly can’t help but fall for each other every time they’d flash a gummy smile and they will fall asleep side-by-side on the living room as the credits of some mediocre hallmark film plays in the background.

yeah… that sounds about right… sounds about what everyone deserves to have…

they say that twenties was the marriage age but ajax argues that there is no "one" time for love. he does make the effort of putting himself out there as his friends called it but that was that. he was in no particular rush and he finds no need to plead for destiny’s threads to pull him forward. destiny was an expert in reverse psychology though because ajax received an answer to a prayer unsung and he found it at the corner of an overhyped cafe a few blocks away from home.

he found the idea of love at first sight cute but always thought that it wasn’t for him. it was unfair to think about now that he learned that it didn’t matter a single bit what he thought because love comes however it wants. in that crowded place, time seemed to stop and so did his heart that froze before starting back up with a pace that would usually send him flying off the walls. his throat closes up as he hurriedly averts his gaze from you in the middle of a flustered panic. was his hair fine? did he remember to wear his lucky cologne? seemingly useless questions flitted through his mind and before long, he was at the front of the counter ordering some random coffee brew because he just couldn’t be bothered. was this what the bards meant when they said “you’ll know it when it happens”?

with a hesitant step forward, he cleared his throat before smiling apologetically (and he hopes it also came off as charming), “is this seat taken? sorry, i can’t see any other empty space…”

so what if he said a little lie? so what if the second floor of the cafe had a few spare tables? if he was going to shoot his shot, he might as well omit all the negative details from his head — just like the tense frown you were wearing from the moment he saw you.

ajax waited with bated breath and stiff muscles as you considered your options. when you sighed in defeat, he sighed in relief and he all but slammed his tray in a hurry in case you suddenly change your mind. he was barely situated in when you brought out your headphones. panic-stricken, he wore another bright smile as he tapped on your mug, “what’s your order? it looks good!”

you frowned and ajax winced internally because of all things he could say, he says the one thing that didn’t make sense, “good? the most you could see is the murky leftovers of the good parts. what’s there to look at?”

“i guess but,” he shrugged relaxedly (it was all an act), “is anything really good if you could only appreciate it on its best of days?”

he thought that he caught himself well but you seemed to disagree, rolling your eyes and completely ignoring him by the next second. he halfheartedly twirled his straw, wondering if he just sucked at conversing with attractive people or if you were just naturally pessimistic and cold. either way, the defeated slouch of his body was not hard to see by any interested onlooker.

so what if he was a romantic? he didn't think that there was something to be ashamed of in embracing a positive outlook in an otherwise dreary world. there was nothing wrong with adoring chick-flicks and pumpkin spice lattes during fall. there was nothing strange with choosing to highlight the good than the bad. there was nothing to criticize in the way he immediately felt drawn to you like two halves of a whole separated for the longest time and suddenly — by complete happenstance — finding each other again. so what if he believed in the irrational notion of soulmates? he'd stand his ground through it all if it meant being able to turn what appears to be a permanent frown on your face into a smile.

he's seen you before in his dreams and it's rather amazing how you beat all the odds when you chose to come at the right day and time and prove to him that you do exist in real life. you had the fire he imagined he'd gladly dance in and the small pout that would put all those celebrities to shame. you could tell him that adonis and aphrodite have nothing on you and he'd believe it in a heartbeat. it's this weird magnetic pull that makes him stare like some poet that wishes to immortalize your attractiveness in his books. the one time he diverts his gaze, he sees you catching a staring at him from the mirror that hung from the wall close by. fueled by the adrenaline and perhaps, hope, he schools his expression into what he hopes looks like a smile that can send anyone swooning like those picture-perfect guys in the novels.

"if you wanted to look, you don't need to be so sneaky about it."

he watched you blink, eyebrows pulling together in a show of annoyance as he sent a wink for good measure. without a skip of a beat, you said, "you have something on your lip."

"what? fuck..." he had been too preoccupied with your reflection that he didn't catch his. now, his mind was in shambles and dark thoughts filled them in response to his embarrassment. "shit, i thought i was being slick and all that—"

though troubled, he didn't miss the small smile that graced your lips that you tried to hide with your hoodie. he counts that as a win so he shoots you a big grin before looking down at his coffee. hesitation brews in his heart but it was now or never so clearing his throat, he asks. "hey, can i get your number?"

you demeanor changes and for the nth time, ajax beats himself up in regret. 

"easy there! i'm really not trying to get in your pants or something. i just thought you were pretty cool and i figured we'll be good buddies!"

he gave it his best shot in damage control but you still refused to give it. he asked nineteen times in total and for the twentieth time, he calls upon the world to give him just one sign that you're really the one for him and so, he proposes a game of rock, paper, scissors — placing everything at the hands of his luck and to fate.

you lost.

but he lost too, he chuckled emptily as he twirled the stirrer in his cup. here he was, still sat at the corner of the cafe you first met in but this time, there was no you. he burned that bridge foolishly because of some drunken drawl incited by irrelevant fears. what a joke. he lost you faster than it took to fall for you which was absurdly swift even in the dictionaries of the gurus. you're midnight wine and campfire talks and hushed giggles in the corner of a big, storied library. you were everything he asked for even when sometimes, you behave like the exact opposite of him. that has always been fine though. opposites attract until he had to ruin it with his stupid mouth.

he should've known better; should've known that all the good things in his life would come crashing down because of him.

the pain in your voice was something that would haunt his nights for the rest of his life, possibly even the lives after that. when you asked why the fuck he'd done the things that he did, he can't even bring himself to look for answers because why the fuck did he? he could only watch as your face morphs into a person he once knew and killed — the you that was cynical and doubtful of good intentions; the you that hated disney films and fairy tales because it's too good to be true; the version of you that would refuse to draw matching hearts when he'd write your name in the back pages of your notebook.

'can't help falling in love' plays in the cafe radio and ajax runs a hand across his face in humanity's greatest portrayal of the character, misery. it was in moments like this when figments of the past you shared come passing around him like shadows that he realizes how much his heart longs to just grip the clock and turn the hands of time himself. he misses the way you'd laugh as he curses out the liars in tv shows. he misses the way he misses you every time you had work and now, your split second replies had all turned into one sided conversations in blue. what can he do?

"what's this? you look pathetic." he jolts in his seat as if all he needed was to hear the voice he hasn't heard in weeks to come back to life. ajax decides against saying that you were far from faring any better. your eyes were swollen like you haven't stopped crying all this time and your lips were trembling at the mere sight of him. his lips twitch up at that. guess he still had some effect on you... he'd rejoice if his tongue wasn't tied in undoable knots. "well? you wanted to talk and now that i'm here, you're not saying anything."

you place yourself before him, setting down a tray that had the same steaming drink you ordered before. he was right. it did look good on its best form.

"you feel unreal. i dreamt of you so many times these days that i don't know if i just finally lost it since you're actually talking to me this time."

there was no response, just the white noise of people having their own conversations that were faring far better than his own. a lump forms on his throat and he forces it down like the way he forces himself to meet your gaze. he didn't know what to expect to see but it certainly wasn't concern.

"just... i don't know... start from the beginning, i guess? i want to know what could possibly be running through your oh-so-brilliant mind for everything to end up like this."

so he tells you everything from the start. from his love at first sight that you couldn't help but laugh at since he spared no details and no thoughts for his dignity, the stalker that has been bothering him for years, the night he drank his concerns away, the way he adored how you rushed and picked him up when he couldn't even stand, the desperate attempt to remove that unsettling feeling in his chest, the timid but excited smile he was greeted with when he woke up to your excited smile, the instance he knew he fucked up, the dreams of a heart stopping confession fading away like a wisp, the fear of losing you if you find out that how it started out was a misunderstanding even if everything else was the truth, and finally, the gratitude he can't help but gurgle out through his tears. all this time, you listened, not interrupting him for one second except for when you awkwardly slid the paper towels in your tray over to him when he started having a breakdown.

you stayed silent for quite some time, ruminating on your thoughts and ajax believes he hasn't known anxiety until today. five minutes passed before you spoke with an unreadable smile, "you're an idiot, you know that?"

"...excuse me?"

"you're an idiot. i don't know how i fell for you," you sigh as the chair creaks when you leaned back, "but i did and for some reason, i can't find it in myself to regret it when emotions died down."

there was just no way that the man you knew who liked having raspberry sherbet after kicking the ass of some random date that stood you up was fake. you chose to believe that not because of some optimistic dream but because it might as well become a scientifically proven truth. he was a guy, well-built and kind, actually clumsy but firm and honorable and— fuck, he has honor and principles in his bloodstream that you decided to give him a chance to explain.

"i didn't block you, you know... i saw each message you sent me hence this," you motion to yourself with a stiff smile.

"oh."

ajax swallows before looking back down to his drink that now turned lukewarm and murky. it stops him from forming any thoughts and he's unsure if he's happy with that since it meant being left alone with the muddled reflection that stared back at him.

"i... honestly don't know what to tell you, ajax, but i... i understand where you came from and i don't think i'm getting the closure i was supposed to get today."

just like back then, he steels himself.; he schools his expression into what he hopes looks like a smile that can send anyone swooning like those picture-perfect guys in the novels although this time, it's weaker and wearier in comparison.

"is that some roundabout way of telling me i can still win you over?"

you don't respond again, only sipping on your drink for the first time that day, and neither of you knew what to make of that.

it's cynicism that saves young hearts from recklessly bolting out of their well-made confines to find something that didn't exist. it's scrutiny that disproves the existence of love and by extension — the macabre heartbreak you were never meant to feel. it's hope that ruins everything that guards your delicate heart. you didn't believe in happy-ever-afters, no, not after all that, but for some reason, you think that this story isn't meant to end in this bitter note after all. maybe the tragedies you heard off were, all this time, interpreted differently by the people who lived it.

shit... you should know better but he was someone you'd risk it all for and that's the dilemma. you supposed you owe him a part of your humor. in this irony, for the first time in a few weeks, you feel like you can laugh again and mean it — genuinely and wholly.

"please—" ajax speaks abruptly, eyes shaking as he eyed your now empty cup, "don't go... not yet..."

you don't. not yet.

。 XIAO — “ alatus nemeseos | winged nemesis ”

mysterianism is the belief that not a single being in the entire vast universe can decipher the hard problem of consciousness. the limits of human comprehension makes it impossible for anyone to grasp the idea of qualia — that is, an individual's subjective yet conscious experiences. it's a bitter acceptance that stops you from falling into the pitfall that is called existential crisis. in a way, it's a philosophical view that is both an answer and not in a big world overflowing with questions because truly, how exactly would you attempt to prove the nature of consciousness? of souls and minds? of their eternal nature or their temporality? what exactly was real? 

xiao, at least, believed that this was solution enough. you may never know if the love in someone else's eyes weigh as much as the one you held in yours but at least, you're certain that it is real and there's no more need to spare doubt on something equivocal in spirit. you don't need to question their 3am thoughts, their strange thought process and conspiracies because it's something that just exists. they exist and you know them. you know their soul and their body and their mind; know what keeps them awake at night and the untold fears that has never seen the light of day until now. he'd know. he feels it every single time in every single conversation. he's kinda you and you're kinda him and it's so easy to say that you belong side-by-side together because there is some unexplainable, hidden force tying a string in your hand and in his. whenever he's in bed, thinking of nothing but which series to binge watch with you next, he knows that you exist and he exists with you.

you've always been his best friend — now and forevermore in each version of ending regardless if it's a happy ever after or not. the insomnia that plagues your mind is something that he mirrors and each night passes easier ever since he met you. whether it be imessage billiards or some philosophical dilemma you found because of your brilliant mind, he types for god knows how long until he settles for a reply that's worthy of your time. he likes you and that's why it doesn't matter to him if he comes to school with dark circles underneath his eyes. he likes you. of course he did. it's harder to not like you than it is to stop breathing. you're everything that he's not — soft and well-rounded, always knowing the right words to say when he's feeling numb after a day of exhausting exchanges. you're not the best at one-sided conversations but the way you'd squeeze his hand in yours is a whole tale in itself. you're his favorite person and for that alone, he speaks the words that are so hard to come to him on normal days.

he says 'i passed by your favorite cafe so i got us some drinks' but mean 'i thought of you while going through my daily life' because he gets so overwhelmed by the saccharine taste of those words when it finally comes down to it. each sentence is some profound expression of his heart and it leaves him trembling in his doc martens every single goddamn time, leaving him to regret not saying what he truly meant later at night when everything's said and done. 'these songs reminded me of you and i don't know how to thank you for being in my life,' 'you're my favorite person and your face is the one that pops inside my mind when i think of the one person i don't ever want to lose,' and ' i love you'; so many things he wanted to say but cowardice comes around to bite his throat until not even a word can be coughed out.

when did the switch between platonic to romantic happen? when did your name become the missing piece to the absurd solution to an equally absurd problem? who knows... maybe it was never platonic in the first place and he just never noticed because mysterianism cannot explain your soul. everything's blurry these days and the only clear thing in his incomprehensible mind was the recognition of the sharp pains that throb in his chest whenever he eyes the last text message you sent.

he loves you. he loves his best friend and your shitty playlist and your store-bought cookies. he loves the criticism you spout whenever the random movie you managed to put on turned out to be some horribly written romance. he loves the way you'd send him random memes throughout the day for no good reason other than you can. he loves you and he misses you especially on late nights like this when your replies came as scarce as water in the desert. was it desperation? some god's pity? he thinks no further before trying again, sending another "hey" among the many he has sent before in an attempt to start a conversation.

he can't explain why he's still staring at his phone expectantly... what does he expect to see?

it chimes and xiao jolts up like a child on their birthday morning.

words are beautiful. they can convey anything from sorrow to glee to adoration and hatred. they're like roses in that sense and roses were dangerous. they're thorned and adorned with hidden malicious meanings. you've given him roses before and he never feared being pricked by them because he knows you. that's why the anxiety he feels now is unfamiliar — because now he doesn't know if he's ever understood you at all.

your half-hearted, playing innocent replies greeted him and the conversation ended faster than what was once the usual but it was a start. he managed to invite you to his next performance and that... well, he supposed it was something to be happy over. amber eyes strayed to find the hoodie that he gave you that he never managed to return. with renewed vigor, xiao kisses the idea of getting any sleep tonight a wonderful goodbye. he has better things to do and words? words are beautiful but they fail him more often than not. if he could get someone else to say the words he desperately wanted to say for him, would it matter? it's still real, is it not? regardless of its validity, the rest of the night was silent save for the soft strumming of a guitar and lonely humming.

friday afternoon came faster than he anticipated and so did the lump on his throat. backstage, his arms feel like jelly that was strangely conducting electricity to the tips of his cold hands. his legs weren't feeling any better being comparable to lead itself. he hates this, he thinks and he mussed up his hair with an annoyed groan. whatever... whatever! xiao repeatedly mumbles to himself as his grip on his guitar's neck grows ever tighter.

if not anything else, then he was still your friend. he has that, at least. he still has you even if it'll never be the same as before.

his band mate tells him they're on stage in five and he peeks through the curtains to see you nursing a drink by the exit. you were wearing one of his shirts and he wonders; do you wear it because you still care about him somewhat or have you just forgotten that it was his once upon a time? regardless, his heart that was already in such a dangerous position trembles at the sight of you. it beats against his ribcage until the excited cheers of the crowd becomes a whisper compared to his own heartbeat. 

has it been weeks since he last saw you? it all feels unreal.

"for the first song," xiao tuned out the band's lead singer who just finished hyping up the crowd, busying himself with adjusting the grain for his electric guitar so that he didn't have to meet the gaze that he knows is focused solely on him — just like other times, "it's actually written by our guitarist, xiao. we hope you enjoy it."

what does it mean to say something? was it merely sending your thoughts to another? whatever it was, it can't possibly be the way xiao could only spare you a passing glance before he had to grit his teeth, feelings of sadness, regret, and longing bubbling to the surface of his normally schooled expression. he catches your raised brow, eyes surprised and dare he say it, concerned, as he finds his world closing in on him.

"if i could turn back time... if I could find a way, i'd take back those words that've hurt you and you'd stay."

relationships ruin friendships, they say. xiao just never considered that there would be an end to something that seems so inexplicably perfect. holding onto hope was foolish but a part of him considered that maybe... maybe you'd find the answer to your question in his song and stop this cruel game of tag. 

"i don't know why i did the things i did. i don't know why i said the things i said"

liquid courage was nothing compared to the state of his sanity. you had on the most unreadable expression he's ever seen. heck, you had never reacted like that the entire time he knew you; not when you had sat so close together, knees and arms touching under one blanket and not when he came knocking on your door one rainy night.

"words are like weapons, they wound sometimes."

he strums his guitar, words — lyrics — popping in his mind in time with the singer who was singing his heart out. words are beautiful because sometimes, they tell you exactly what you want to hear and this time, he means it. it is real. him on the stage, you by the bar; this is reality and each word he wrote for you are the words he hadn't been strong enough to say the night you became mercury and him, pluto.

"i didn't really mean to hurt you," he sees you cover your face with your hand and he stills, wondering if he messed up all over again, "i didn't wanna see you go."

before you were whatever this was, he was your best friend. he used to look out for you in his stupid, unconventional ways because that's the best he could do in his awkward, socially inept skin. he would wordlessly pass his lecture notes to you, pay for your fast-food runs, sign your excuse letters so it wouldn't be obviously fake. he never knew why he made such an effort with you when if it were anybody else, he'd scoff and move on with his day. looking back, maybe he knew the answer all this time. he's in love with you. for real this time.

you're kinda him so you knew what he meant with those words, "if I could reach the stars, i'd give 'em all to you. then you'd love me, love me, like you used to do."

such bittersweet words shake your resolve and you don't know how much more you can take. you're taken back to christmas eves spent in your apartment, hot cocoa and foam on his lips as 'the grinch' plays on the background. you finally meet his eyes after a long while of avoidance and you knew that he's there too.

"when you walked out that door i swore that i didn't care but i lost everything, darlin', then and there."

words were truly beautiful.

this time, he doesn't escape the conversation that must be had and you didn't either. he leaves his guitar the moment the song ends and runs to the backstage where you stand there looking aimless and very, very real. reaching his hand towards you was instinct — like he couldn't believe this was reality and you respond in kind, knowing how lonely it is to be alone in not knowing what you can believe in.

"you'll..." he sighs when your skin touches his, hands interlinking just as how he was used to, “we'll be okay, right?"

"maybe? i think so..." 

you sent him a watery smile and downing pride and fear better than vodka, he tugs your body until you're as close as can be. xiao still can't help but wonder if this is a dream.

you're his best friend and more. selfishly, he doesn't want to lose you — not again after coming back from that hell. you're the one who pulls him back when his aggression takes the better of him. you're the one who stubbornly forces tylenol down his throat whenever he was feeling sick. you were the one who approached him first and stayed even when he refused to return the trust you give him whenever you question everything in this world. you knew him and his intricacies first, the same way he was the first to unearth yours. you're the one who keeps his mind from spiraling — the solution to every single problem he can't seem to understand.

"don't cry," you murmur through your own tears, "i can't stand seeing you cry."

he can't help it, body relaxing with each passing second as the distance between you decreases once more, just as it should always be. frost thaws like the first day of spring. suddenly, it was like the december nights he endured were but a part of his imagination; his weird consciousness manipulating the sensory experience of bearing through the lack of warmth emitted by your body in his hold.

mysterianism is the belief that not a single being in the entire vast universe can decipher the hard problem of consciousness. the limits of human comprehension makes it impossible for anyone to grasp the idea of qualia — that is, an individual's subjective yet conscious experiences. the relief that renews his bones is one that cannot be explained and he preferred it this way out of the fear that if he questions it too deeply, the world will take offense and take you away from him again. his love and your forgiveness, though he can understand neither, he feels nothing but gratitude. it's beautiful, isn't it? in this vast world, you and him made perfect sense and no science or craft can ever come close to placing a value to the way your lovely smile was enough to calm all the raging thoughts in his head.

there was still so much that needs to be said — to be talked through — but that can wait until tomorrow morning. today, he basks in joy. love disappoints and love changes but he was able to catch you before you fully depart. he eyes your face and he can still read through your micro-expressions that speak so loudly of the way you were feeling the same things he was. he sees you and you're still the same as he remembers, if not more precious. it's you. it's really you and admitting it makes him feel like he's one of those down bad boys from dramas who'd jump and scream their professions of love from high school rooftops. and well, if that's what it takes to steal your heart away, he'd gladly be one with this version of him in some other universe.

"you've been staring at me for quite some time now," you promptly avoid his gaze when you hear the familiar lilt that cues his mischief, "you're not still thinking that you're the only conscious mind in this world, right?"

"...well, aren't you such a dream to have?"

mysterianism is a word and words are beautiful especially when it's so powerful that it can patch up old wounds in a minute. 

TAGLIST / ask to be removed or added

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @fiannee @nejibot @mininji @scaramew

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。SINCERELY, YOUR BAD INFLUENCE

━━ PAIRING: scaramouche/reader

━━ GENRE: fluff

━━ SUMMARY: the pile of bills waiting to be paid had exhaustion weighing over you like a feasting ghost. good thing that your dear lover was someone who's proven to be adept at fighting off your worries in more ways than one.

━━ CONTAINS: modern!au, established relationship, reader is an office worker, domestic fluff, crude language, scaramouche is implied to be a former member of a gang/mafia, conversational mentions of violence, lowercase intended

━━ VALENTINE’S 2022 EVENT SPECIAL (LATE POST)

EACH step was made with purpose, which is to say, each step was made with a murderous glint in his eyes as he confidently walked the streets leading back to his home. a sick sense of pleasure throbbed underneath his skin, expressed in the victorious smirk on his face as his eyes watched the passers-by avoid him without so much as a complaint. never mind the fact that he was wearing your oversized hoodie or the fact that he was barely cradling four bags filled with grocery items on his own, scaramouche was just as terrifying as he was back in his heyday.

a familiar ringtone broke the silence he kept as he walked and he groaned as he fumbled with his things before opening his messaging app. though, of course, you had to be blind to miss the way the mood around him shifted. gone was the murderous glint in his eyes as it was replaced with an exasperatedly tender gaze. had the strangers not witnessed the way scaramouche nearly bit their head off for staring just a few seconds earlier, they would've been confident to say that they passed by two different people who just looked scarily similar. still, between their own busy lives and the possibility of being involved in a petty fight should they breathe in the direction of a ticking time bomb, the people left him to his own devices — just as they should do.

"where are you?" the text read and scaramouche scoffed at the cold way those words reached him. then again, what was it that he was hoping for? a few heart emojis? a disgustingly, cute nickname? he could only grit his teeth as he feels heat pool in his cheeks. typing back a quick reply, he pocketed his phone before resuming his trek home. the faster he got there, the less the chance that he'll embarrass himself by simultaneously combusting in the middle of the road because of his straying thoughts.

at home, you groaned as you stretched, back aching from the sitting position you held for hours straight. it has been a while since you had the luxury of not having to go overtime at work and you figured that it would be nice to spend it with your grump of a lover who has "subtly" expressed his displeasure over the lack of attention you were giving him these past few weeks. to your surprise, he wasn't home and was in fact, fetching groceries when you were sure it was your turn to do so. lips twitching upwards fondly, you felt your heart clench in adoration. nothing beats acts of service when you're about to pass out from exhaustion.

as if on cue (and you wouldn't be surprised if scaramouche really had a sixth sense for when you're about to fall asleep without giving him so much as a glance), the door opened to reveal your lover whose frown worsened as he spots you from afar. moving closer, he eyed you up and down before squinting — a tell that he does right before he's about to ridicule you out of concern. something about his "you look like shit" actually means "are you okay?" in his prominent language of tough love. wanting to be spared the rudeness today, you beat him to it by giving him a sugary smile.

"welcome home, honey boo! how was your trip to the market?"

scaramouche froze, before a sharp glare was directed at your laidback position on the couch, "what did you just call me?"

"hm? what was that, honey boo?"

your typically collected, although also mostly feisty, lover grimaced but the adorable blush that colored the tips of his ears made him look softer than he actually was. it was difficult maintaining your composure when he was so easy to infuriate but this time, the laughter that bubbled deep from the depths of your core was something you didn't even bother hiding. instead, you helped him set the groceries on the coffee table before pulling him into you as you laid against the fluff of your throw pillows with a sigh.

"oi, let me go. i need to put the groceries away."

"later..." you groaned as you nuzzled your face deeper into his neck. an action that worsened the already vibrant hue on his cheeks, "didn't you say you wanted my attention last week, schnookums."

scaramouche jabs a finger at your waist, "shut up or i'm leaving."

you loved him and you love the act of teasing him even more but at the end of the day, you were a human who instinctively clung to the idea of preserving your life from ferocious, little people like your lover. deciding that you're going to live for at least another fifty peaceful years, you silently snuggle up to him. right, this was better... there was no need to tell him that the way his arms were firmly wound up around your waist — occasionally even tugging you closer — was enough to tell you that he had no intention of leaving the couch anytime soon.

from his position, he could hear the rhythm of your heart clearly and the way you would occasionally sigh in contentment. he's far from being religious and the colorful words he spouts on the daily are enough to have him excommunicated under multiple counts of heresy and blasphemy but if he were to be truly honest and vulnerable with himself for a change, this — you and him and silence, separated from the rest of the tumultuous world — is heaven. it's either that or heaven is nothing at all.

after all, what could paradise offer that could top the way your fingers ran through his hair, massaging the parts that hurt whenever something or, rather, someone, decides to give him a headache? your hand falls from his hair and to his back, tracing swirls and shapes down his spine and it took his all to not shiver as little zaps of electricity traveled with your touch. right... this has to be heaven, the only kind he'll believe and turn holy for. confident now that you won't see his face, scaramouche leaned up to brush his lips over the side of your neck — lightly, barely there but loving, all the same — before closing his eyes. the groceries could wait.

it was half past seven when he awoke once more and immediately, an irritated grumble left his lips at the notable lack of your presence. standing up with a low whine, scaramouche moved towards your home office knowing that that's the only place you'll be at this hour.

"what the hell are you doing?"

you hummed in reply, not shocked at the annoyed tone he was using with you when he purposely announced his irritation for the world to hear with each loud stomp he made on his way over to you, "there was an emergency at work. i just need to get this done quick."

"you're at home. stop slaving yourself for your shitty boss."

you don't respond, too busy typing an email for your colleagues and scaramouche didn't like the lack of response as before you know it, he had turned your swivel chair in his direction and flicked your forehead.

"ow! what—"

"you have thirty minutes to fix whatever it is that your incompetent co-workers fucked up. if you're not by the dining table by then, i'm throwing the router in the bin and knocking you out so you'll actually get a decent amount of sleep, you moron with shit for brains."

knowing that there was no room to argue with him, you nodded in defeat, something that made scaramouche snicker, "now, how hard was that?"

"ugh, romance is dead i swear..."

"tragic. happy valentine's, brat."

laughing at his jab, you went back to work with renewed motivation and aggression as you deleted a few lines from your email that came out sounding too polite. seriously, he and his gremlin attitude were rubbing onto you.

in the kitchen, scaramouche stared at the ingredients in front of him. he wasn't a bad cook per se, he just wasn't the best. cooking was usually left in his... acquaintance's hands. the annoying ginger head dropped by too often for his liking and when scaramouche told him off for lounging around his home when he brought nothing to the table, he began bringing tupperwares of food made by his mom instead of taking a hint and not coming over anymore. still, you were thoroughly amused and well-fed given the strange turn of events so he learned to take it in stride. the less work for either of you, the safer it was for the rest of the world.

staring at the vegetables in contempt, scaramouche huffed before scrolling through his contacts where at the top, your favorite fast food restaurant's delivery hotline was saved for all the times you found yourself craving something he can't possibly make. hesitating, scaramouche glanced at the vegetables again before giving up and dialing. while there's less romance now that he's proven incapable of making a proper homecooked meal that's not eggs and bacon, he knew that credit's still due as he recited your order, memorized through the heart and well, the number of times this situation has occurred.

so what if there's no candle-lit dinner, scaramouche argues as he continues to defend his choice fifteen minutes after he placed his order, at least you'll be eating something that isn't burnt today.

to his surprise, you finished five minutes before he expected you to and you were even pleased that he had ordered in instead of cooking. too much work you said, but scaramouche figured that you've just been watching too many romanticized sitcoms as of late. the rest of the night was a blur of doing your nightly routines side by side, no different from a regular day and frankly, he liked that. over the top, corporate benefiting actions were never his style anyway. what he did remember was that you had sloppily laid your body over his last night, effectively knocking the air out of his lungs as he was left to support your entire weight without any sort of warning. the high-pitched evil voice that reigned the insides of scaramouche's head urged him to push you off of him to return the utter lack of regard but one look at the dark circles under your eyes and he was sighing in defeat. how detestable... if he had known that he would keel over for someone so weak, he would've laughed and thrown a world-ending fit of rage earlier. you were neither great nor mighty but, good heavens, you seem to have a knack for making his blood boil. he knew that some people are born gentle and kind but you? you were overflowing with so much goodwill in your heart that you might as well adopt those annoying, little cherubs that are glowing and praising every single one of your self-sacrificial acts of kindness behind your back.

really, what was he thinking when he fell for a saint?

now conscious, scaramouche toyed with the idea of telling you off and guiding you back into his stellar path of becoming a grudge-holding menace of society. it's definitely not a concern for your well-being that's bringing this thought into mind. it's just... scaramouche sighed, before directing his gaze to the continuous pinging of your phone from far away. he should really give your overindulgent coworkers a piece of his mind. stopping in his tracks, a devious grin and manic look crossed over his face. something that was hurriedly removed as you let out a muffled whine, now also roused from sleep.

"wait... what's happening?"

scaramouche smiles and that was when you knew that something was awfully wrong, "good morning to you too."

shivering slightly, you reluctantly left the bed in favor of getting to work on time. if things went south because of him... well, you'll think about that later when it does occur.

noon approached much too swiftly and before long, it was your lunch break. you could skip lunch, you mused as you eyed the towering pile of papers you had to get through today but before you could begin working on another one, a small bag was placed in front of you haphazardly.

"...scara?"

"why are you looking at me like that with your blank eyes?!" he seethed as a soft pink brought color to his face again, "it's your break, right? there! i bought you lunch because i made too much!"

you doubted the legitimacy of his last statement but before you could tease him or thank him for that matter, he was already scurrying off. shaking your head, you opened the bag only to be greeted with a neon pink post-it with "stop sucking up to your scum of a boss and report him for passing his workload to you. it's not like i can't beat him up if things go wrong" written on it. stifling a laugh, you opened the container to be greeted with the leftovers from last night and freshly cooked eggs made exactly the way you like them.

that man, really... you giggled to yourself as you began typing a report to the hr.

each step was made with purpose, which is to say, each step was made with a murderous glint in his eyes as he confidently walked out of your office and back to his home. a sick sense of pleasure throbbed underneath his skin, expressed in the victorious smirk on his face as his eyes watched your hopeless colleagues avoid him without so much as a complaint. nevermind the fact that he was definitely acting like a househusband just as ajax teased him to be or that he's shorter than everyone he passed by, scaramouche was just as terrifying as he was back in his heyday and the scaramouche of back then is all too happy to be the monster that terrifies those who dare exploit what's his.

taglist / be added or removed here

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @pumpikun

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。LAVENDER AND CHAMOMILE

━━ PAIRING: albedo/reader

━━ GENRE: hurt/comfort

━━ SUMMARY: when your best proves to be not enough, chamomile-scented detergent comforts you in the safety of his hold.

━━ CONTAINS: modern!au, established relationship, reader breaks down after a failed test, self-deprecation, reader and albedo are students, albedo is a little ooc for valid reasons, lowercase intended

THE relaxing scent of lavender still lingers in the air despite being unlit for the past twenty-six hours, fifty-three minutes, and thirty-nine seconds. well, that would be the case if you counted the last two hours in your head correctly but you figured that you probably didn’t. you’d cry for failing such a simple task if it weren’t for the fact that you think you’ve truly gone crazy for doing that in the first place.

teeth grinding against teeth, jaw locked impossibly tight to stifle the scream and sob that caused small tremors to wreak on your chapped lips, you pushed your face deeper into the spare pillow you were clutching until your fingers were all tight and sore. god must have favorites because if he didn’t, he would’ve at least given you some things that you wouldn’t fail especially after you spent yourself dedicated to that certain task.

it was just an exam, nothing too serious. numbers don’t set the value of your person. there’s always next semester. bless them for their concern but if you heard another one of those horribly optimistic words of consolation, you think you’d run up to them and choke the living hell out of them. you spent how many nights holed up in your room, working through massive and intricate texts that were unnecessary in your field of study only to fail that exam. you know that it happens but it sucks and there’s nothing to say that will make the situation even remotely okay.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe it’s the hormones, who knows at this point but you suddenly felt like bawling your eyes out until you were all snotty and gross. who cares at this point? you’re about to give up and quit this whole education thing because it seems that no matter what labor you do, no fruit seems to be coming in sight. the bleeding heart in you felt infinitely bad, especially when you think of all the people who believed in you that were probably all disappointed because you failed the exam and failed… well, them and their expectations. if you had just a little less self-pity in your body, then maybe you would’ve called your family and apologized to them for being a disappointing child. maybe you would’ve called your friends and apologized for maybe teaching them the wrong answers in a totally unrelated test but who knows, if you failed this one you’re marginally confident in then maybe you’ll fail that one too.

and then, there’s him.

you groaned, legs kicking high up in the air as you drum them to the beat of your frustration, the sound muffled by the foam of your mattress but still loud and audible in your room. what would albedo think? beautiful genius albedo with perfect teeth and perfect braids. lovely, sweet albedo who holds study sessions with you in his cozy apartment and buys you your favorite snack when he passes a test (which just so happens to be every test he takes).

just how pathetic would you appear in front of him?

you were most sorry to him as it was him who stayed up with you when you were frantically going through your lecture notes at 4am. it was him who checked your practice assessments and explained the parts that made as much sense as the size of an atom if not less. call it cowardice but you hoped that albedo would be busy with some experiment so he wouldn’t question the results of your exam. you love him dearly, no matter how he comes across, but you think you’ll be about ready to cry and pack your bags and surrender yourself to the aliens if he did so much as look at you with the littlest sign of disappointment.

but clearly, god has favorites and it’s certainly not you.

a soft knock on the door brought you out of your stupor and you blindly pat the bed for the box of tissues you managed to buy through your tears at the convenience store on your way home. the embarrassment (and the assumptions the other customers and cashier probably made at the sight of your face), albeit delayed, caused you to abruptly shoot up, causing a wave of nausea to rush through you.

great. just great.

albedo heard your wince and hesitantly opened the door to check on your condition. it was cold and you were shivering under the piles of blankets you had and most especially, you looked horrible. not because of the tear streaks on your cheeks or the marks on your face from your position in bed but because the eyes he admired so much now stared at him pitifully and dare he say it, fearfully.

“‘bedo…” you managed to whimper out before he cautiously moved towards you and pulled you in an awkward but nonetheless comforting hug.

“shh… just let it out… we can talk later. for now, i’m here. i won’t move from here until you’re feeling better.”

his words were something akin to the go signal for the opening of dam gates after years and years of not doing so. no matter how much you tried, hiccup escaped after hiccup and you felt your eyes swelling up as you cried harder. it seemed impossible back then when he told you to let it all out since you were certain you spent it all before he came but there were surprises in everything. this one, you don’t think you appreciate just as much.

albedo didn’t say much, only holding you and reminding you to breathe along with him when he noticed your rapid, uneven breaths. it made you a little bit worse, really. here he was, giving you his patience once again while there you were, receiving it ungratefully and giving none in return. paired with the fact that he came all the way to you just to check up on you after an entire day of no contact, your heart clenched around nothing and you found yourself gripping his beige, turtleneck tighter.

“‘m so sorry you have to see me like this,” you manage to say in between choked sobs, “‘m so sorry you have to do so much for me.”

albedo mumbles your name in reply, worry making his voice breathier than usual. when he received no further reply, he settled on rubbing your back comfortingly as he hoped that the action would deliver his sincerity, at least.

“i didn’t pass my exam… i’m so sorry. i tried— i really tried and i know the answers but i—”

“i know… i saw you preparing extensively for it to the point that you were hurting yourself,” he pulls you closer to his chest where you can hear the stable rhythm of his heart, “didn’t we joke about it too? about how it’s ‘my thing?’”

“mhm… you should stop doing that now that you know how it feels.”

albedo only laughs before timidly brushing his lips over your head, “yes. i promised i’ll take better care of myself and you promised that you will do so as well. you also told me you’ll come to me when you need help, right?”

“i did but i… i don’t know, i feel unworthy i guess… you did so much but i can’t even pay you back, it’s pathetic.”

“love—”

“i know that we should be getting through this together but… you did so much for me already, y’know? i mean…” you breathed as tears well up in your eyes once more, “remember that time when you woke up and learned how to make my favorite food because i forgot to eat dinner at what? two in the morning? or that time when you bought me these candles that i swear, works like magic? and-and… all the times you’d stop working on your research project because you set up an alarm to make sure i’ll stay hydrated? you even stayed up with me to explain all these stupid theorems and you managed to pull me away when you just know i need a break? ‘bedo i wanted to thank you at least for taking care of me but look at me! i’m so—”

“beautiful,” he smiles as he pulls back to wipe the fresh tears away with the pad of his thumbs, “you’re so beautiful and hardworking and i’m proud of you.”

you stared at him blankly, “i failed my exam and i’m now crying over it with snot and tears all over my face. are you okay?”

an amused twinkle flashed through his eyes as he used the ends of his sleeves to wipe your face clean, “not like i thought it deterred your beauty but is that better?”

“your shirt—!”

“i was going to replace it anyway,” he shrugs before pulling back so he could face you properly, “you told me yourself. i was there with you when you were studying for this exam. you did everything you could and you were so dedicated. i remember thinking that you looked so beautiful when you were determined to do something that i wanted to do something for you to remind you that your efforts were very much appreciated.”

“albedo…” your lips wobbled though this time, it came with a reason much more positive than before.

“i never did anything i have done to be given something back. i just… wanted to be the one who's around you to support you this time. i wanted to help you and be with you as you have always done for me.”

albedo smiles, features affectionate and tender as he declared his love for you over and over again with the honey-sweet glaze in his dazzling aquamarine eyes, “you’re so precious and i don’t want to see you beating yourself up over something that happens. you didn’t disappoint me because i saw you give it your best and that’s enough. sometimes, the results can be what we least expect it to be even if we worked tirelessly to ensure the process would go smoothly.”

“but…”

“i know it must be horrible to see your efforts unrewarded but you learned something and you’re growing and i think that is something to be appreciated already. i adore you and i hope you won’t forget to appreciate yourself and your efforts thus far.”

“thank you,” you spoke behind your palms as you wiped the fresh round of tears away. you gave him your best smile of gratitude and you hoped it didn’t come off too much as a grimace, “i love you.”

“i love you too, dearly.”

as he pressed a kiss on the crown of your head, a wave of warmth and security flooded your being. while disappointment remained, it no longer seemed like something that could topple your tower of cards anymore. and if it’s no longer anything major, then you’re sure to get over it eventually especially when you have people who loved you as much as albedo does all around you — a love not preferential and not something limited to your best moments.

“sorry for dumping that on you. guess i just thought you’re too perfect for a dummy like me.”

“i poured soup in my drink instead of my bowl once.”

you furrowed your brows in disbelief, “what—?”

“nobody is as perfect as you think it to be,” he smiles as he pulls you down with him to bed, “exhaustion makes for peculiar adventures. speaking of which, how about we take a nap?”

though endeared and enamored with the man before you, you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes at his guilty smile.

“you stayed up late again, didn’t you?”

“i promise that this would be the last time.”

the traces of your lavender candles still linger in the air but you find that the chamomile scent of his shirt comforted your now drowsy self better than any other anxiety-reducing scent. cuddling closer to his warmth, you knew that it’ll all be alright in the end.

taglist / be added or removed here

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @pumpikun @fiannee @nejibot

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。ONCE MORE, WITH ALL STRINGS ATTACHED

━━ PAIRING: albedo/reader

━━ GENRE: angst

━━ SUMMARY: tragedies and unprocessed trauma are a recipe for disaster — something that you must bear in the place of someone whose borrowed time has long ran out at the hands of the divine.

━━ CONTAINS: death, reader is a homunculus, unprocessed trauma and guilt, albedo is a red flag, lowercase intended

DRAGONSPINE was, for the lack of better words, a void. those he cradles in his arms are asphyxiated as he slowly reels them into his cold, crumbling bones and empty eye sockets. he holds them in his rough, calloused palms as he pulls apart their limbs with a twisted grin scratched onto the surface of a barren space. the dissonance, however, lies in the simultaneous torture of being torn apart and squeezed together until your lungs were nothing but a pile of indistinguishable mass. it's a disconcerting feeling but as was told, dragonspine was a void and whatever cry for help your forebears choked out were unheard in a vacuum that sucked everything in— even your fears and desolation.

"you are awake," whispered he, dragonspine's flesh and blood, his pride and shame, his person made alive— he.

albedo watched with mirth as you slowly blinked in reply. the flutter of your lashes, the absentminded parting of your lips as you observed him with equal vigor... it was all you and finally, after what felt like five hundred years and more, he was able to feel like he was him again.

"albedo," you muttered his name at the pinnacle of anticipation. the small hum that escaped his lips urged you to continue but as he tenderly brushed his knuckle against your cheekbones, you freeze. the cold of the mountains was nothing against the liquid ice that circulated underneath the paper-like expanse of your skin. foreign, not right, vile. something has gone terribly wrong and it was strange enough to warrant your suspicions. swallowing your trepidation, you returned his gaze, pointedly ignoring the unseen bugs that slid up and down your skin, "what am i?"

"you are you," albedo answered vaguely, trailing off slightly as he moved his gaze to the mess that has become his desk. slowly, he repeats his words, only to mutter a name at the last minute.

you copy him, mirroring the way he opens his mouth; the way his lips rounded and closed as he spoke of a word so fondly that you could've cried. it was a word meant to denote who you were but somehow, it didn't feel right. your voice doesn't have the right pitch or intonation to make such a jumble of letters sound good and the name— gods, the name... it doesn't seem to match your face as your eyes darted to your fragmented reflection on one broken vial at your side.

what was warm has become disturbingly grotesque on the trouble-free visage you saw. it was as if you had skinned a legend alive, sewn together the cuts, and ironed the creases before plastering the hide on your skin in some convoluted dystopian fantasy. names were supposed to fit in like a glove but what he said was yours felt as if it would slide off at any second to reveal something completely unsatisfying under such pretenses. this name — the one he holds so tenderly in his artificial heart — could never be yours and so you surmised that you could never be whoever that person was.

albedo makes a sound before scurrying to a towering cabinet that screamed out of place. you didn't know why, for memories are not something tangible enough to transfer from one medium to another, but it felt like a stranger trespassing into your home and that was enough reason not to like it, "ah, forgive me. i lost track of time and forgot to give you your coat. it must have been freezing..."

"it's no trouble at all. i can't feel it anyway... the cold, i mean."

your keen eyes caught the way he stops in his tracks before he easily composed himself. he nods nonchalantly in reply, just as you had expected, yet he strolls toward you instead of busying himself with new pigments or experiments. here was another one. an unfazed reality, a mirror you cannot run away from. just as how you could not call yourself by your name, the glorious name of 'albedo' does not seem to match the person before you either. it's something incomprehensible and yet it was the one thing that remained to be undeniably true in a vast world of white noise and nothingness.

"who... who are you?" you couldn't help but ask as a small cloud slips out of your lips with each breath — manufactured and unnecessary but present to make you look more like a human, "what has become of you?"

the stranger who wore his face does not respond, only giving you the coat that you swiftly draped over your body. if he was going to play pretend, then who were you to rain on his parade? you were so unlike the others that strolled the bustling streets of mondstadt as you lacked their liberty yet you were also unlike him whose skin was fair as chalk as you lacked ingenuity and a preference for stubborn denials.

"come. it's about time to fetch the manuscript for the latest volume of zhenyu's work."

wordlessly, you let the soles of your feet dig into the undisturbed sheet of snow. you didn't know what you expected but it certainly wasn't the nothingness that settled on everything you could recognize in the hollow shell of your body.

dragonspine was, for the lack of better words, a void. you were not who he thought you will be and you will never achieve the level of appreciation the bearer of your face used to have for all the minor things that this world has to offer. you were too realistic, too objective, and a little too pragmatic. you don't know how albedo could see that person in you but it all starts to make sense when you consider the person in front of you to be someone like you — one who shares nothing else but a face and a name. perhaps that was truly the case for if he was the genius alchemist of the knights, he would've heard the cries and displeasure that echo hauntingly in the wild, stemming from the lack of personality in your act. the person you — they — were before would never be satisfied with how the present has changed and the nonexistent conversation between you two is equivalent to that of an unhappy shout speaking "wake up! this isn't you!"

before long, you spot a man wearing liyuen clothes shivering by the foot of the mountain, beaming impossibly brighter when he spots your approaching forms. he falls into a casual conversation with albedo before laying his eyes on you. hauntingly terrifying was the sound of confusion that escapes his lips but he schools his face just as swiftly before lacing their name once again in a greeting addressed to you.

"my apologies," you mutter under your breath as your empty gaze settled on the brewing frown on the stranger's face, "i can't seem to remember... have we met?"

"what...? i'm—"

albedo cuts in, face equally devoid of emotions that you could only assume were quite uncomfortable to be at the receiving end of, "you must've heard rumors on the way here but they recently got into an... accident. i was able to provide immediate aid but unfortunately, they lost their memories."

the man gives you a sympathetic glance before apologizing for his rudeness. his apology, while sincere, did little to ease the tension that became apparent in the air. it was a tension that was laughably colder than the environmental conditions of the mysterious mountain.

"w-well, i best be off. please don't hesitate to contact me if you ever pass by liyue. i can arrange a tour for the both of you. maybe that will help you regain some of your memories."

you nodded stiffly in acknowledgment, eyes not straying until the man's figure faded into the distance. it was only when you see him no more that you turned towards albedo who stood stone-faced as ever, "i have no memories to regain."

"you would be correct. the transfer of consciousness is hardly something i have studied extensively prior but i was able to do so, albeit with a few minor issues."

"the fact that i was unable to be who the person in these memories was before they died?"

albedo turned to stare at you and while you felt relatively nothing, an instinctive desire to heed his demands caused you to snap your mouth shut, "the fact that i was ill-prepared for the possibility that dysphoria might occur in the process."

dysphoria, meaning a profound sense of unease and dissatisfaction, was probably the term you were seeking to describe your current feelings.

"you have regained all your memories including that knowledge that you were born as a human. it must be greatly confusing to suddenly wake up only to be "reborn" in a body unlike that to which you are used and familiar with. this was caused by my lack of caution. i apologize."

"there is one other thing, master—" a blank stare and so you stood corrected, "albedo... i cannot seem to process emotions. i feel empty and though i can surmise that i should be elated as i look back on their— i mean, my memories, there is nothing that feels even remotely close to that feeling... has something gone wrong in the transfer?"

the alchemist stills, if only for a short moment, but he does and for a split second, he seems at a loss of words. never has he considered the probability that your name would be associated with such adjectives. for him, you were always bright, and lovely, and so full of fascinating discoveries. you were something — maybe unfamiliar but never devoid of life.

"it... could be a side effect. rather than regaining memories, perhaps the next step should be regaining and relearning how to process the emotions that are present but not recognizable in your current state of confusion."

you doubted that was the case but you made no mention of it, the same way you ignored his hurried mumbling of "it has to be the case." though he refuses to be called as such, he was your creator and he was last of the people you would want to see displeased — again, not out of love but out of something embedded in your artificial veins; a little something comparable to the need to breathe.

"i will finish the illustration someplace else then afterward, we should begin discussing our next course of action. in the meantime, is there anything you would like to do?"

"a... stroll would be nice."

albedo pauses, considering the dangers but ultimately deciding to respect your first "wish." a gentle reminder to be careful settles on his tongue but vivid flashes of red caused him to swallow back the now metallic taste of those words. how ever could he forget the dread and the sense of loss that came with the cold serenity on your face, a mere minute too late from saving you from a catastrophic accident caused by his own negligence? 

"you know how to defend yourself, yes?"

you nod as memories of your first awakening rushed back into you, "it was the first thing you taught me."

albedo watches as you tore your gaze away from him, now focused on the distant landscape before you. a few miles northwest lies the city of mondstadt and on its southeast lies windrise. a bitter feeling swells somewhere deep inside of you as you picture sights you know of yet have never seen before.

"is something—" he catches himself as a mysterious emotion flickered in your eyes, "...actually, that does not matter. you're free to go but please don't stray too far from here."

with his consent, you took a step and another and another — away from him, away from what you knew you should be recognizing as your home.

dragonspine was a void and if it were so, then you, a product of its mysterious ways, were likewise a void. it's a strange feeling: the feeling of both being something and nothing all at once. what you were (if that can even be called you) was gone and though you now exist in this form, everything of this world insists for you to be what was gone. it must be a curse, you thought to yourself as you paused in your tracks, empty eyes staring at a strange stone in a clearing.

perhaps you shouldn't be casually visiting your grave but would anything matter in this place so far away from civilizations that could deem your actions strange? whatever the case, you slowly knelt in front of it, ignoring the way the snow dampened the fabrics of your trousers. for a while, it was only the howling wind but the very next, you could hear your voice slicing through the frigid air of dragonspine — your birthplace, your home, your tomb.

"what is hate? hate would be intense dislike, wouldn't it? but i have long lost the capability of liking or disliking a subject or... perhaps it's better to say that i never had that capability in the first place. like a doll made in remembrance, dressed and told what to say... a puppeteer's plaything. is that not what i am?"

flawless hands that albedo views as imperfections (because the "you" before had callouses and patches and tiny scars and delicately roughened palms; because the "you" before was human and beautiful and very much alive) tore a stray sweet flower nearby. you didn't know why but slowly, you began tugging the petals one by one. a sick sense of pleasure runs through you as you figured that "you" would never have done the same.

"the cruel thing about consciousness is its gift of being aware. i am aware that i am alive and i am aware that i am not you, yet like a being made for someone else's entertainment, everything that i am has been predestined. there is no "first time" for me as you have stolen that when he gave me your memories. there is no affection for me because you remain to be the only thing he sees despite me being a creature worth of wonder. it's always you and it will always be you... never me."

crumpling the lone flower in your hands, you sighed, "i hate you... or at least, it would be better if i can say that i do. but you see, i am equally conscious of how you acted and you are a person so magnificent and good that it's no wonder you had master scrambling to preserve you by feeding even himself lies. you are worthy of love and the abandonment of his mission. you are worthy of everything and yet, i am not."

"i'm sorry for taking your place. i don't want it at all and i don't think i'll ever do. if it were me, i'd rather be at the receiving end of all the hate this world has to offer than be loved because they still see you. the dead are meant to be released from earthly shackles so if my existence is a great offense to you, then i apologize for i do not wish to exist in the first place and yet, i still live. somethings we have to live with and as his creation, i will do what it is that he pleases... even if it means that i must erase all that is of me in place of all that is left of you."

standing up, you shrug off the snow in your clothes just as "you" would likely have done and with one last glance, you let the flower — or whatever remains of it, at least — fall from your hands, "fear not. i shall take your place and be the one that rests on this grave. in here, "i" will stay while you venture off wherever you may go," a bitter smile breaks through your lips but it remains to mock you because, in the end, it was them that you see in the reflection, "consider it my penance... for a crime i was born to commit."

a few leagues behind you, albedo sighs as he idly sketched on the blank canvas. he didn't mean to listen but the gnawing worry that the same thing will happen again as if stuck in a loop of time grew too unbearable for even him. he was to blame for all of this and yet, as he watched you approach, he cannot find it in himself to regret. perhaps it was just a "creator" thing to give missions that can't be completed with all the nuances that come with the definition of completeness.

"are you ready to go?" you asked with a tender smile — much similar now to how he expected you to act. against his wishes, the flutter in his heart came back and a relieved warmth spreads through the expanse of his body causing his fingers to jolt subconsciously. you were back — in a way — and for the alchemist whose heart no longer stomachs the solitude he once wanted above most things, that much is enough.

"yes, let's. if we hurry, we may be able to go home before night falls," he mumbles under his breath as his hands reached for yours, an act you received with ease compared to the first time he offered. bright eyes studied the small cloud that escaped his lips with his words — dreadful ones, a voice in the back of your head said but you quickly shoved it back to where it came from. you would never think of him as anything negative. you loved him. you love him, you smiled with much emphasis on the verb as if you were trying to convince yourself of that.

"home?"

he hums as he briefly looks in the direction of the city, "yes, home. mondstadt... with klee and the other knights. isn't it about time you come home?"

"right," you grinned, excitement thrumming in your veins though it begs the question of how much of it was truly real, "it's time to come to my home."

dragonspine has always been a void but now you wonder if there ever will be a place in the world that would not feel like one as long as you bear their face.

taglist / be added or removed here

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @pumpikun

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。MAYBE IT'S INTUITION (BUT SOME THINGS YOU JUST DON'T QUESTION)

━━ INCLUDES: ayato, gorou, heizou, itto, kazuha, scaramouche, thoma

━━ SUMMARY: sometimes it's a "eureka!" moment but sometimes, all you need is a little mundanity before realizing that your heart has been begging to love a certain someone for the longest time.

━━ CONTAINS: brief mentions of violence, reader is kidnapped to get under ayato's skin

━━ NOTES: posting new content? it's more likely than you think...

。 AYATO — “ cypressus custos | warden of the cypress forest ”

He knew he loved you when his carefully crafted façade melted under the fire that raged in his blood. His ever-present smile faltered as the paper he was holding crumpled at the intensity of his grip. The Commissioner of the Yashiro Commission knew very well the responsibilities and expectations that rest on his shoulders but as the dreadful report reached his ears, Kamisato Ayato found it easy to postpone his duties, rushing out into the field where you laid captured by his enemies. Very few would think it wise to play with the young man’s patience, knowing that the still waters could easily crash and break the bones of those who tried their luck against the waves but it appears that some people have yet to learn their lesson: he does not take lightly those who dared take from him, especially when it is someone particularly close to his heart.

。 GOROU — “ canis bellatoris | warrior's dog ”

He knew he loved you when a nightmare left him panting and disturbed and the first thing that came into his mind was making sure that you were safe. The logical part of his mind argued that no harm can ever befall you under the blanket of safety the Watatsumi Island offers you but the pounding anxiety in his being remained undeterred nonetheless. He found it unbecoming that a mighty General of the Army was now speeding through the quiet dirt paths of the village in his patterned nightwear but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Though ridicule from his peers may await him the next morning, all he could think about at the present was the dread that stems from the lack of your presence in his world.

。 HEIZOU — “ cervus minor | lesser deer ”

He knew he loved you when he hid the truth of his whereabouts from you with ease. Your birthday was fast approaching and while it pained him to do so, the esteemed Doushin of the Tenryou Commission smiled apologetically as he turned down your recent offer to have dinner together. He’d love nothing more, really, and any prior commitments, as long as they were not work-related, had always mattered less than short rendezvouses with you. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to miss the appointment he had with a glass blower whom he had commissioned to make your gift. What could he say? Some things are more important than the truth and the unadulterated glee that would soon cross your face was one of those few things.

。 ITTO — “ taurus iracundus | raging bull ”

He knew he loved you when his gang brought you up to fluster him into losing another match in TCG. Rather than being angry at their lowly methods to steal the victory from Arataki “The Ultimate TCG Champion” Itto, he only giggled before falling into a tangent about how “absolutely perfect you are and he’s a hundred and ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine, nine, nine percent sure that you’re the one for him because of course, the most stunning person in Teyvat should be with the handsomest, most friggin’ cool and awesome oni out there duh-“ His gang could only sigh before placing down their cards and mumbling lackluster “mhms” and “uh-huhs.” They know better than anyone that their boss man has so much pride for those he loves and when he starts talking about those he’s proud of? There’s no shutting him up until you or Shinobu take pity and decide to work your magic.

。 KAZUHA — “ acer palmatum | palmate maple ”

He knew he loved you when one cool autumn night, he found himself feeling lonely as he wandered about the mountain peaks of Liyue. The Crux fleet was stocking up on resources at the nearby harbor for their next venture in the seas and while that alone filled him with a sense of excitement, a lingering echo in the deepest crevices of his heart resounded loud and clear. An itch — or rather, a sincere longing that can only be satiated by catching a mere glimpse of your visage. Very rarely can you find the young heir of the Kaedehara clan resisting the direction of the wind but for the first time in a while, Kazuha was eager to come home. Alas, he'd probably only disappoint with how little tales he would be able to share with you so for now, he supposed he could busy himself with finding the perfect flower to press into a bookmark for you.

。 SCARAMOUCHE — “ kunikuzushi | country destroyer ”

He knew he loved you when thunder roared tremendously in his fury, shaking even the most stable of the earth but not once did lightning strike the trembling form of this pathetic, good-for-nothing subordinate of his. The balladeer is not one who hesitates and certainly not because his long-lost morality decided that it was the perfect time to resurface. Still, his fingers twitched in place and the venomous curses in his throat rumbled before dying down into more docile whispers. The thought that he, of all people, would show mercy unsettles him but he found that there is little that he could do when his treacherous mind posed him the question: “what would you think if you saw him?”

。 THOMA — “ rubeum scutum | red shield ”

He knew he loved you when he would subconsciously pause his duties at the mere mention of your name. Truthfully, he ought to take down the laundry before the rain starts to fall from the murky skies but as competent as he was, he couldn’t help but listen in as a few of your shrine maiden friends talked about your recent endeavors in Sumeru. A deep longing and a youthful giddiness clashed and fueled the rapid tha-thumps of his heart. It is not every day that Thoma hopes that he was not the Kamisato Clan’s reliable housekeeper but for the briefest of moments, he knew that there was nothing he couldn’t give if it meant being able to bear witness to your radiant smile instead of the cobwebs he should’ve been cleaning by now.

taglist / be added or removed here

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @pumpikun

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。IT’S A BRIGHT FUTURE AHEAD OF US II

━━ INCLUDES: kaeya, kazuha

━━ SUMMARY: how would the boys react to being transported in the future and seeing that they married and had a family with their crush?

━━ CONTAINS: unnecessarily cryptic descriptions, happy endings for a change (not clickbait)

━━ SIMILAR WORKS: it's a bright future ahead of us i

。 KAEYA — “ pavo ocellus | peacock eye ”

to the people of mondstadt, kaeya alberich is as unbothered as one can be. he doesn't flinch at klee's mischievous peek-a-boo's nor does he blink when an evil plot devised by the abyss comes knocking at the city's doors. it's both awe-striking and frustrating for them because as much as they wished him well, they (most especially jean) wished he'd train the new recruits more instead of clocking out at precisely six in the evening to start drinking with his newly made pals.

to him, however, kaeya alberich was perhaps the most troubled man in the nation. uncertain allegiances, forgotten duties, and irreparable relationships were probably the least of his worries compared to the mountainous insecurities that weighed upon his heart. he was well aware that he wasn't a good man. it comes with his last name, you see.

perhaps the realization that he was never meant to be the kind of person you're supposed to keep by your side was the reason he never even considered the idea of pursuing you romantically. he simply wasn't what you deserved, no what-ifs or buts.

he drank a little too much and he was unstable on his feet. he wondered then if you were the type to scold him for drinking too much or if you were the type to furrow your brows in concern before nursing him back to sanity with little to no questions asked. it didn't really matter. he'd still love you regardless.

kaeya alberich just couldn't be bothered beyond unlacing his boots and flopping against the soft mattress he was smart enough to buy. it didn't take long before kaeya falls asleep, his heart pinching and throbbing in a way he couldn't decipher if it was good or bad. all he knew was that before he lost himself to the darkness, he saw you. you would look beautiful in his bed in the early hours of the morning.

he aroused from sleep because of a soft touch against his cheekbones. logically speaking, he should've bolted out of the bed and drawn his sword because he was very much aware that his house was inhabited by one person alone as it was ever since. still, it was as if he knew that he was safe and at home and very much at peace which are, unfortunately, all foreign emotions to him.

"wake up, darling. i made breakfast," the corners of his lips curled up in an amused smile but he made no move to open his eyes. this was new. he has never drunk himself to the point of seeing and hearing hallucinations, "mister! i'm talking to you! don't tell me you dropped your brain while stumbling back home yesterday night."

it's instinct, he says, as he opens his eyes to fire back a witty remark but all the words in his mind got lost in translation (or maybe they were right after all because all that he could register was you and the scent of his perfume on your clothes). before he knew it, kaeya was smiling — not smirking or faking a grin — smiling with his eyes drooping slightly from sleep.

"you're beautiful," he whispers and it was groggy and rough from hours of unuse and contrasting that was his gentle touch against your flushed cheeks.

"are you trying to woo me off my feet again? we've been married for three years now and with a kid. you don't need to say that."

as if on cue, a shrill cry broke the serenity of the morning and kaeya quirked his brow as you cursed, speed-walking to what he assumed to be the nursery. strangely, he's not overwhelmed. it's almost as if... he was made to be here — to be by you and your child's side.

not too long after, you came back with a swaddle of beige, woolen blankets. kaeya sat up to peer at the baby in your arms and wow, has his eyes always looked that beautiful? kaeya figured that no, it hasn't. not ever. but on your child, they were more brilliant than all agates and sapphires though perhaps that was only because of the little eye crinkles they got from you.

kaeya felt his heart swell up and this time, he's certain that it was for the good. reaching out to you, he brushed his thumb over the matching gold band on your ring finger and all this time, he refused to meet your eyes; afraid of what he'll see on their reflection. "i wasn't... trying to woo you off your feet. it just came to me all of a sudden."

"i know... i love you. i'm so happy you're here with me."

for the first time that day, kaeya laughs and he was certain that if he had more time in this made-up world, he'd be laughing sincerely way more than his hands could count. leaning back with a sigh, he closes his eyes once more, hand not leaving yours while the other was stolen by the baby who was curiously tugging at his pinky. what an odd but beautiful lucid dream...

"thank you."

normally, people wouldn't be smiling through a hangover and kaeya was just like most people — that is, whenever he didn't just live through an incredibly vivid dream that got him smiling like a cheesy rom-com protagonist. the blissed-out curve on his lips wasn't ill-fitting on his face (because let's face it, has the captain ever looked unappealing?) but it was, indeed, unusual. when was the last time he smiled during the morning?

"kaeya? you seem different," jean smiled in delight, surprised but welcoming the sight of the cavalry captain whose demeanor finally matched his age, "what's got you in good spirits?"

"hm... well, i think i finally lost my mind."

the acting grand master flinched, concernedly leaning just a tad bit closer to look for any signs of insanity that she might've missed but when she spotted kaeya's teasing smile instead, she sighed with a disapproving shake of her head, "i can't believe i fell for that."

"now, don't be! it goes without saying that all of you are just anticipating the last push i need before i fully descend into madness."

"i—" her jaw went slack as her eyes displayed the full lengths of her mortification, "you read that?!"

"careful there, jean. if i didn't know any better, i'd say you're going off character. to answer your question though, grand master varka showed me your report. it was a very entertaining read and before you apologize, i didn't take any offense so don't mind it."

in her distraught, jean missed the way kaeya elusively dodged her question — choosing instead to put her on the spot after she submitted a crisis report to the then-present grand master many years ago. ever polite, jean was about to apologize regardless when a short knock diverted both's attention from the issue at hand.

"i believe that is my cue—"

"master jean? i brought the papers you were looking for."

kaeya was anything but unperceptive. he recognized the now-familiar lump on his throat and the slight dissatisfaction that came when he noticed that your ring finger was empty. right... too taken by the afterglow of his delightful imagination, he forgot that that was all that there is to it. just his imagination doing wonders which, he had to admit, was already a marvel on its own when he was certain that he lost all optimism and creativity in his less than desirable childhood.

"kaeya... you're here early today..."

he quirked a brow, lips threatening to show the same bashful smile he allowed himself to wear in the privacy of his home, "how do you know that?"

"well, i—" you cleared your throat as regret swells up on your inside. ah, barbatos be damned because he gave a little too much emphasis on the freedom of speech, "you're not hard to miss."

"oh? is there something you want to say—"

feeling the situation go out of hand, jean took it upon herself to give kaeya a stern stare before quickly recomposing herself to greet you with a grateful smile, "thank you for your help. i'm sorry that i had to trouble you with this."

"no worries! you've been working so hard for us that this is the least that i could do... ah! i must be interrupting something! so sorry about that... i'll see myself out. please don't hesitate to call me if you need any help..."

the polite smile you sent jean felt different from the shy smile you sent his way but he was certain that he was just seeing things again. after all, why would you linger? still... kaeya clicked his tongue as his displeasure came back in a harsher wave. he only caught a whiff of it but he already knew that pinewood and jasmine (his daily perfume, mind you) would suit you better.

"well, i'll best be off as well. i'll let you know if i find anything about the snezhnayan delegates."

jean sighed before dismissing him as he wished. though she was naive to certain topics, she had to be blind to not notice the special treatment kaeya gives you. perhaps it was improper of her as the acting grand master to wish him well in his personal ventures but as a colleague and a friend, jean gunnhildr certainly hoped that kaeya would finally find his happiness and accept it without thinking about his worthiness for such.

the new recruits knew better than to question the subtle rush in the captain's steps. those that knew him longer, however, couldn't help but tip their heads down as they remembered the person who they had just passed by before him. now, albedo wasn't one to pry on other people's affairs but even he knew that it was about time that he got over his head.

"what's the hurry, sweetheart?"

curse his long legs, you mumbled your breath as you tried to face him without showing much of your embarrassment, "i have to pick up a few groceries and i shouldn't make blanche wait too long so..."

"you didn't answer my question," a sly smile lifts his cheeks up and you prayed to the seven. if they had any mercy left in them, they'd stop kaeya from noticing the way your heart was picking up its pace with the way he held your wrist, "was there something you wanted to say?"

many and none all at once — that is, none of which are appropriate given your very unusual and awkward relationship status (acquaintances, colleagues, strangers with the slightest bit of affection?). you weren't sure what exactly was going through your frenzied mind but before you knew it;

"you're beautiful," you froze, lips trembling as you eyed kaeya's surprised reaction. you'd celebrate the fact that you were able to make him falter if not for the fact that you were about an inch close to dying from embarrassment, "i meant! like— you're always beautiful, you know that! what i meant is—" you worried your lip before calming down the slightest bit when you saw the reflection of yourself in his eye — held ever so tenderly in a way that almost hurt good, "you're even more beautiful when you smile."

he paused before his lips curled up in amusement and — if you squint — fondness, "are you trying to woo me off my feet?"

"what?! no, i—"

kaeya alberich was unbothered as he shifted his weight from one foot to another, assuming a more confident stance. "i was about to get some groceries for myself as well. mind if i join you?"

。 KAZUHA — “ acer palmatum | palmate maple "

kaedehara kazuha was dreamy. he carried something positively indecipherable with him everywhere he went. poems made for the poet described him as magical, unreal, and dreamlike while those more crude than imaginative tend to call him pensive or starry-eyed and oh so gentle. sometimes, even the autumnal winds pale in comparison to his tenderness.

neither were wrong because kaedehara kazuha was indeed dreamy — eyes bright and mirthful even when his subconscious ascends to the clouds. in his paradise of half-arranged thoughts, three things stand out. poetry stemming from the analogies he crafts from nature, memories of those he carries with him in his travels, and the pleasant flush of love made possible with its incarnation: you.

beidou once called him a 'loverboy' and she probably didn't know how fitting the term was. the wandering samurai is fond of the simple things and love was a word he carelessly throws around if your eyes were keen enough to spot all the metaphors he uses for it.

if he had any shame on him (which he did not in this case because why would he be ashamed of his feelings for you? they were perfectly understandable as far as he is concerned), he would've buried himself six feet underground for being so deeply in love with you that he glows. his lungs are made of roses and every word he speaks is a wreathe made for you. he thinks it feels wonderful to be in love because being in love meant loving the world that sustains you too.

kazuha thinks about you a lot. compares your visage to a beautiful wildflower, wonders about your favorite songs when he hears a traveling bard, and idly traces your name on parchment as he writes yet another poem for you. he compiles his affection on a small notebook he bought back when he was still in inazuma but he never shows it to you.

he's not shying away from his affection nor does he think that he's unworthy of your gaze. he simply thinks that settling down wasn't 'him' or at least, not yet. he had once thought of confessing but as he watched you chat with a merchant you grew up with, he quickly abandoned it at the forgotten crevices of his mind.

he just couldn't stand to take everything away from you just because he doesn't have anything but his sword and his wonder. you'd be happier with stability and stability was not something he was ready to give you just yet.

now if kaedehara kazuha was even a bit selfish, he'd confess his devotion, possibly kneel in front of you, and ask you to wait for him to be ready but that was not him either. the mere thought of it has actually left such an appallingly bitter taste on his tongue that he quickly disregarded the idea.

he drifts because he enjoys the freedom of the present so why should he deny you that yourself? he does not confess because he doesn't want to burden you and because if you find stability in someone else, he would hate to take it away from you. that's not selflessness in his books. just respect and genuine love.

but he's always been a dreamer, hasn't he? he liked picturing the future just as much as he liked pondering the possibilities of the present. he has certainly considered living away from the city with you — in the countryside with your own little garden and wooden swings in the backyard. maple leaves fall and he'd brush it off your hair while your child sits on your lap as they fiddle with the book you have stopped reading.

"kazuha, dear, would you be a darling and fetch me more cabbage?"

your darling man blinks before doing as told, moving with ease as if he had lived there for centuries. perhaps he wasn't wrong because kazuha might have already lived a hundred and one lives in that home; home anchored within his memories and dreams. suffice to say that with the amount of time he has on his hands just staring at the sea while he ventures to and fro liyue, kaedehara kazuha was able to vividly picture every inch of his ideal future.

he knows exactly where to put the condiments and which curtains look best against the wooden accent wall of your dainty abode. his souvenirs are arranged prettily on a shelf he made himself situated in between the living room and the dining room. on the shelf resides his heart and devotion — his notebook now worn from the many nights he read them for you.

"what's that smile for?" you ask with a cheeky grin as you gave him a soft kiss of gratitude.

kazuha only shakes his head with a mysterious smile, eyes twinkling with delight and mischief as he returns your kiss — longer this time. your curious stare laid unwavering and he finally relented. but before he could provide an answer, an excited call interrupted him.

"papa! you're back!"

a small oof escapes his lips as he was tackled by the small identical figure in front of him. unknowingly, a tender smile and a soft blush taint his cheeks as he eyes his kid. your kid. before long, laughter spills out of his body in soft, unfurling gusts. he chose to stay silent as the kid rambled about their new toys, interrupting them just once when he placed a delicate kiss on their forehead just because it felt right.

kazuha was uncharacteristically silent, nodding here and there while listening to your affectionate banter with your kid. he's always been dreamy — soft and light but being there with you two had him extending past being just dreamy. for the nth time, he sighed blissfully as watched the skies turn into a vibrant tangerine shade.

he may not have said much within the day but so much love spills from his eyes and his hands that you wondered what glorious deed you have done in your past life to deserve such a man. needless to say, you were keen enough to realize his silent metaphors — all denoting that kazuha was utterly, head over heels in love with you, your child, and the life you shared together.

from the corner of your eye, you spot kazuha humming an inazuman lullaby as he traced over his aged notebook, his kid peering over his shoulder as they whisper something that prompted yet another chuckle from the man.

it was about time that you receive peace and stability away from the wars that ravaged the world, you thought at the same time as he did though perhaps the words were knotted together differently.

kazuha awoke to the sound of merry, little chirps from the birds and the mid-day sun peeking through the lush leaves of the large maple tree he had decided to take shelter in. a pleased hum slips out of him as he listens to the compliments of the wind. today was just right — not too hot nor too cold, not too loud nor too quiet. it was the ideal day and he wondered if you were seeing the simple but soft, rosette tints that life has to offer right now as well.

you. you. you. he always drifts to you, doesn't he?

you were perhaps his most dazzling dream and just the memory of what he had seen (or experienced because kazuha was no stranger to dreams and he was near-certain that what he had just seen was no simple dream) had him curling to himself, knees pressed to his chest that thrummed a song reminiscent of the thunderous sea shanties beidou and her crew sang.

just then, a stronger breeze sends his hair flying back and if he didn't know any better, he would've shrugged it off as an old friend trying to push him into doing some grand, romantic act fitting of a wondrous climax in the first book of your lives. though, he chuckles as he brings out his notebook once more, tracing over ink and paper just as he had done a few minutes ago, he really didn't need any more pushes or shoves. he knew what he had to do.

and so, he pulls out a bottle of fine ink and a small brush — confessing his adoration for what appears to be the thirty-eighth time in a way that exceeds the value of mere jumbled and thoughtless words.

"kazuha?" you sent him a confused smile as you greeted the man by your doorstep, "i thought you wouldn't be back until next month?"

"i thought i'd pay you an earlier visit. that is if you don't mind?"

wildly shaking your hands, heat settled on your cheeks as you tried to backtrack, "no, no! your presence is greatly welcomed! i'm actually very happy to see you today. you look well and... you look positively different?"

kazuha shakes his head with an amused smile and you dismissed the fond look he gave you as something strictly platonically affectionate.

"ah! where are my manners? come in! i was just brewing myself some tea. would you like some as well?"

"no, thank you... i don't intend to stay for long because..." the sight of an exasperated captain appears in his head, "i can't say that i haven't been sneaking around again..."

surprised, you parted your lips to question him but ultimately, you decided to keep your mouth shut — sipping instead on the warm drink that was made from one of his many gifts to you from his travels all around.

"i came here to give you something. it's something that i had made in my free time whenever i caught myself wondering about what you were busying yourself with."

"for me? kazuha, you didn't need—"

"please," the gentle smile on his face made it hard to argue, "i do this with my free will. i enjoy giving little trinkets to you. whenever i buy them, i think of you and it feels like we haven't parted at all — like you were with me as i enjoy the peaks of liyue's mountains or inazuma's gentle showers. it makes me feel... less homesick in a sense and i would never deny myself the opportunity to see you smile like this as well."

you weren't exactly sure how to react because kazuha has never been this bold. sure, he offered a few mischievous and subtly flirty remarks here and there but he never stepped over anything that could be definitive of you two being more than just friends. it was bewildering but you certainly weren't complaining; not when you very much enjoyed the pleasant buzz on your bloodstream.

"please accept it and read through it on your free time. i must leave now but... the next time i visit, i promise it'll be for longer."

when you nodded (and you hoped your disappointment wasn't too prominent), you thought he'd leave just like that. it was what you were used to, after all. the wandering samurai comes and goes like the wind. before you could fully recognize its cool touch on your skin, it was gone save for a few little dandelions lead astray. but kaedehara kazuha was different today. he's bolder and more confident. he walks as if he has finally rid himself of a weight that held his shoulders down. it's what made it so easy to bow — to meet your knuckles and his lips in a curt kiss.

"may we meet again soon."

footsteps. a shrill creak. a click. silence. ticks and tocks.

you didn't know how long you spent staring at the blank space ahead of you but when you finally regained your bearing (not fully though. your left hand was still tingling from earlier's stimulus), you cracked open the gift he had kindly left you this time around. coincidentally, you landed at the most recently filled page — a page containing words that mirrored the ones he had also just written in his short, unexpected expedition.

"the ship that had sailed

not too long ago,

floated steadfast against

the hungry gaze of the storm.

along the aftermath, i drift.

an endless horizon of peach

mirrored against billowing waves;

lonely and confused.

as i surrendered,

i stumbled upon a treasure fairer than gold.

a lighthouse; two bright eyes with a flair and a crease

guiding me home back to my safe harbor."

he was ready to come home.

[tartagliaxx]

。EVERYTHING OF OUR FATE IN DUE TIME

━━ PAIRING: kaedehara k./reader

━━ GENRE: fluff

━━ SUMMARY: morning routines could lead to exciting discoveries — just as how everything in your life seem to fall at all the right places at all the right times.

━━ CONTAINS: modern!au

━━ VALENTINE'S 2022 EVENT SPECIAL

the first thing he heard when he opened his eyes was your soft, little snores that automatically drew a drowsy smile on his face. you were still wearing his shirt, a faded red one that had his high school's mascot printed in front. the fabric didn't swallow you whole like the shirts in your rom-com movies do but that was fine. his heart held a lot of affection for the sentimental things in his life and he was more than willing to share every single one of the things that made him kaedehara kazuha with the person who stole every bit of his poetry. it didn't take long for him to pull you close, absentmindedly snuggling into the crook of your neck as he relished in the gentle thrumming of his heart. with legs tangled under the quilted blanket you gave him last christmas, kazuha decided that he could afford to stay in bed for five minutes longer if it meant having you for himself for just as long.

the five minutes that passed felt like an eternity that ended too soon— yes, that was the perfect way to describe it. an eternity of finer details spun and observed meticulously by awestruck ruby eyes. kazuha was eloquent but not necessarily verbose. besides, he smiles to himself as he ran a hand through his free-flowing locks. what else was there to say when you were doing all the explanation by just looking wonderfully majestic first thing in the morning? true art, the ones that could only be crafted by the genius of nature itself, have no need for unnecessary adjectives uttered by someone clumsy and blind at the sight of love incarnate.

"you woke up early," he felt you shuffle before slumping over his back, movements exposing your left leg to the cold morning breeze. you honestly didn't care. it wasn't that cold but kazuha wordlessly adjusted the blanket for you anyway, "worrywart."

kazuha shook his head amusedly, "just looking out for you."

you eyed his pleased expression before fiddling with the hair tie on your wrist — his hair tie. a little something that you wouldn't be having on your person if it weren't for this man who enjoyed your touch unabashedly. adjusting your position, you carefully detangled the knots in his hair: a routine you have come to know every time you stayed the night over his place.

"what should we have for breakfast?"

you hummed, "you're cooking?"

"it's valentine's day," kazuha smiles and though you weren't facing him, you knew his silken voice by heart that you could carve the image in your mind with as much ease as you have when you breathe, "a special day for a special someone entails a special treatment, yes?"

"don't try too hard to be perfect. any more and you'll make me order a ring."

"feeling bold, aren't we?"

you only laugh in reply, patting his head twice to tell him that you're done styling his hair. deciding that your mischief will temporarily end there, you don't comment as your keen eyes caught kazuha slightly tilting his head to lean into your touch. a cat. he reminds you too much of a cat who enjoys lounging around in the corners where the sun's glow hits just right.

"the rain has stopped... i guess we're not having breakfast together after all," you said after a few moments worth of silence. the reason for your stay was the torrential downpour that happened late last night. as brave as you are to attempt to fluster your composed lover, you weren't quite brave enough to walk home in poor visibility. too busy recounting what has transpired, you missed the frown that uncharacteristically painted kazuha's face darker.

"...so it seems."

you blink, turning your gaze to kazuha to ask him a silent question but he only kissed the inside of your wrist with a coy smile.

indifference has never been your forte and it didn't help that kaedehara kazuha, as a result of the countless hours he has devoted in honor of preserving your image in his memory, knew every single one of your quirks. as you cleared your throat, kazuha could only smile in content as you didn't attempt to pull your hand away from his hold. a cat. sometimes, you reminded kazuha of a cat who jumps away from the slightest show of affection. other times, however, you stuck close like you had all the intention of becoming his second skin. you'd deny this if he told you but he knew better. his mother had once tucked a stray strand of his hair while softly saying that nature favored him for his free soul and it appears that this time, he owes them another prayer of gratitude. the rain has once again proven that it was his friend — a friend that had kindly bought him more time with a small bonus of having you crave the warmth that emanated from his palms.

"shall we go out of bed?"

you groan but made no further move to protest. it wasn't as if you had any intention of running away from your responsibilities. while it was valentine's day, it was also a monday, the most dreadful of all workdays, and you had no intention of losing your good mood to the morning traffic.

"i'll at least help you with breakfast—" kazuha shakes his head before guiding you to the bathroom, spare towel and clothes in hand. you didn't even notice that he had everything ready until he was telling you that he had everything covered, "you sure?"

"you'll be late."

"meanie."

kazuha made no move as he watched you pad to the bathroom. he ought to tell you off for walking barefoot when the mahogany flooring was cold but there was something strange in his lungs. it squeezed — lightly, not enough to be painful but enough to be felt — and oddly, it was a feeling he could easily mark as delightful. it was befuddling to face an emotion he has yet to recognize but it was fine. if it was a feeling he gained from being around you, he's bound to put a name to it eventually. after all, he was planning to stick by your side for a long, long time.

content with his realization, kazuha tugged at his sweater's sleeves. he could hear the sound of the shower being turned on, followed by the rhythmic pattering of water to the tiled floor. once, he had no use for a heater, having an inexplicable tolerance for the freezing water in his apartment but then you came along and he found himself scurrying to accommodate you. the shrill scream you let out as you showered for the first time in his place was quite unforgettable and even more so was your blatant avoidance of his gaze. embarrassment on you was a hue that he found endearing but he'd never place his satisfaction over your comfort. lying wasn't his forte, preferring very technical wording instead but somehow, it was easy to smile apologetically and tell you that he was having trouble with his morning showers as well.

not soon after, you gifted him one of the many piles of blankets he had stored in the spare room. "stay warm. i'm not very good at looking after sick people," you said and he wondered how he could be stuck freezing in the cold when your eyes were the warmest of all. sincere and caring. you didn't tell him that you won't look after him when he's all gross and vulnerable — just that you weren't the best at it. kazuha had shuddered then, finding the intensity of your gaze to be the right amount of heat that he was craving for all this time.

it was no wonder that kazuha has earned a lot of mocking contempt from his friends for always thinking and speaking of you fondly but how could he ever stop when you're effortlessly adorable as you wore his go-to scarf with a frustrated pout. you didn't even have to do anything. all you had to do was stand still and breathe and he would be all over your feet, singing you praises and thanking you repeatedly for sharing your tender heart with him.

the bedroom door suddenly opened and he realized that he was too burrowed in his thoughts to realize that you have long left the shower. you were fiddling with his scarf. a pleased smirk came to his face as he realized that a part of him was going to be with you all day long and that it should be enough to silently cue your coworkers to stay on their lanes. how strange... it was unlike him to be so territorial. perhaps the valentine mood wasn't all lie after all. shaking such nasty thoughts, he met you in the middle, gingerly unraveling the scarf to rewrap it around you but without the unsightly creases your earlier rush caused.

"you don't need to leave so soon," he smiles tenderly as he gently tugs at your arm to pull you back to his warmth, "my place is yours, after all."

you knew what he was referencing. fragments of you could be found everywhere you look in his cozy apartment and it was as if cupid shot yet another barrage of arrows to your heart as you fall crazy in love all over again. you like this. you truly, with all of that word's sincerity, like this. you like how you seamlessly mesh into his life— how natural your toothbrush sits next to his fancy bamboo one. you love how his body was always the right degree of warm during rainy days. you love him. you love him so much that it's a wonder that this world could contain it.

"very sneaky," you drawl, making no effort to hide your entertainment, "i never thought you'd be the one to influence me to lag behind."

"there is no need to make me out to be a villain, dove. i am always by your side, wishing for you to receive only the best."

you pause before nodding, burrowing your face into the scarf in the process. it smelled like him — like his apartment; like home and you wonder just when you began recognizing this small but cozy place to be the one place you'll come back to after a day's worth of work. you don't question the why because you knew the first time you set your foot inside this place — even when back then the wallpapers were old and dirty and he refused to pay for 'unnecessary' appliances — that it was only a matter of time before you were dancing in the kitchen as you cooked dinner with a skilled artist as your sous chef. it was never a how or why, only a when and even that didn't matter all too much because it would come to be eventually.

domesticity. the mere sound of the word had your blood rushing in excitement for what was in store for the future and without a doubt, you knew that you and kazuha had both silently agreed that you liked how that word sounded with the affectionate articulation of the other.

"i have to go now. you've held me back long enough, mister."

kazuha easily dodged the soft flick you were supposed to give him. realizing that you weren't going to call in sick after all, he sighed before handing you a carefully crafted bento. noticing your confused stare, he shrugged nonchalantly, "it's unhealthy to skip breakfast and someone has to make sure that you're not doing so just because you are running late."

"holy crap," you gape at him, heart going mad crazy underneath all your layers, "marry me. like right now."

kazuha rose a brow before laughing, placing one final kiss on your cheek before shooing you off gently. your words had affected him a little too well and the lung-squeezing feeling from before returned ten-fold. whatever it was, it was for sure your doing and he had not the heart to complain. similarly, he has yet to find the heart to speak of the box hidden under his sock drawer ever since a year ago. no matter... it will come to be eventually — naturally and all in the due course of time that looked upon you fondly.

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。IN WHICH WE FALL FARTHER THAN ICARUS

━━ PAIRING: aether/reader

━━ GENRE: fluff

━━ SUMMARY: colors flicker by the second and paints his skin in every possible hue. what's constant, however, is the pretty nude of his lips that tastes sweeter than any bubblegum.

━━ CONTAINS: modern!au, established relationship, aether and reader are on their last year of college, aether is unashamedly a corny simp and reader eats that right up, lowercase intended

━━ VALENTINE’S 2022 EVENT SPECIAL (LATE POST)

THE sun was setting, casting a golden sheen on everything it grazes. a magnificent sight — and a welcome one at that as the tints of orange and gold made the view from the peak of the ferris wheel even more worthwhile. the line had been long but you were happy you were there, especially since you were given the additional gift of your dear lover's pleasant smile. though his eyes were turned towards the horizon, the affectionate gaze he held was directed to you multiple times that day, and what a sight it was to see. a look that could stop time — had someone told you that, you'd believe it in a heartbeat. that is, if your heart hadn't already failed by that time given how fast it raced to accommodate the heat in your cheeks.

"look! they're selling bubblegum ice cream there!"

you forced yourself to look away from the magnificence of his childish jubilance to look at where he was pointing. a few meters away from the ride you were on, you could see a lady wearing a striped shirt handing a teal-colored ice cream on a cone to a small child and his guardian.

"you have a sharp eyesight," you noted as aether laughed lightly, "do you want one?"

"yeah, it looks pretty. kinda reminds me of the sweater you bought on our first mall date."

and again, your heart skipped a beat, "you remembered that?"

aether had the nerve to look wronged at your comment, which promptly earned him a jab to his stomach. a moment of silence was shared, each awaiting the other's move but ultimately, you both laughed. in sync — like two great minds linked by similar thoughts and two hearts beating to match the pace of the one who truly owns it. really, he had to have a million and one ways of making you feel like you're once again in high school with nothing much to think about but the smaller, more valuable things in life.

"i still think you're prettier though. sunsets look good on you."

your hand was taken into his and though his touch caused electric sparks to shoot up your nerves, the way he tenderly held it in his, paired with the way his thumb ran over your knuckles, stopped it from numbing over. not like you'd mind. it's not much exaggeration to say you'll give an arm and a limb for this man and for this moment to stay with you forever and ever.

"very smooth of you, aether. what follows next? a stereotypical kiss? or maybe, a proposal?"

"i don't know," aether abashedly rubbed at his neck, hoping that the rosette hue that settled there would quell, "i just like the way your hand fits in mine."

he's always been so effortlessly charming— always saying the right words to reduce you to a half-crazy teenager in love and if you loved him any less, you would be furious for how devastatingly unfair he was when it comes to your poor heart.

the worst part is that nine times out of ten, aether doesn't even mean to come across as an incredibly appealing young man. every time you tried to bring up his ridiculously attractive behavior, he ends up laughing nervously with a massive blush as he scolds you off for over-exaggerating. this person was oblivious to the stares that linger around him. you thought he was just being considerate at first but aether was genuinely unaware that he was the kind of person who could have an entire nation worshipping his words and that was perhaps the biggest taunt out of all.

perhaps that's also why you're so sold… his innocent honesty was his biggest weapon against you.

"ah, the ride's coming back to an end. that's a shame… i guess there's no more time for that kiss and that proposal you're looking forward to…"

rolling your eyes at his cheeky quip, you turned around to watch the passengers five carts away from you disembark, "wanna go in line again?"

"you'll brave through the queue again for me?"

"babe, i'd jump off a cliff for you if you said the word."

"please don't." the frown on his face made you laugh.

"well, just say that again if i actually decide to do it. i'll come crawling back in."

"did you just—"

"walked you into a mitski song reference? yes, i did. c'mon, time to get off."

aether wordlessly followed after you, lips twisting into the same lovestruck smile you were admiring a few moments ago. it was nice to be young and in love.

the moon had started to rise by the time you exited the cart and more and more guests began to move towards the empty field near the pirate section of the amusement park. the fireworks event was the main attraction of the night and frankly, what you were most looking forward to. aether, on the other hand, had agreed to accompany you for the limited edition ice cream he wanted to try out.

noticing your straying gaze, aether tugged you to the confectionary stand safely away from the incoming traffic. "we'll get there in time, don't worry…"

"i wasn't worried. just surprised that there aren't as many couples as i expected there to be."

aether shrugged before wearing a polite smile as he talked to the attendant. you had mentioned your order to him earlier, allowing you the small freedom of fondly tracing the contours of his face with your eyes. he really is the prettiest gem in your eyes, you chuckled before taking the treat offered to you with ease.

"is it good?" you asked and aether nodded excitedly. cute… your lover was too cute for his own good that your heart could do nothing but swell in pride.

watching aether converse animatedly while inching through the three scoops of his beloved bubblegum ice cream brought a different kind of happiness to associate with this rare version of him. it's not as if he was rarely happy because aether was actually more often seen with a smile than a blank look. rather, it's been rarer of him to smile so widely as if he had no worries in his mind. it came with the whole adulting package but it's satisfying to know that he can still act as free as the wind despite having both of his feet planted firmly into the ground.

perhaps the whole "worrying over nothing" thing came with the loving someone package on your end.

"something wrong?"

"nah, just looking forward to the fireworks!"

as you said that, a loud whistle followed by an explosive boom made you jump in surprise. with both of your attention successfully stolen, you both glanced up in awe as more and more fireworks began ascending the night sky before one by one exploding into pops of colors in the tempo of the upbeat generic love song playing in the area. though fleeting, you were able to capture photos of the various shapes it formed before dissipating. a simple pink heart, a red rose, and the silhouette of what you assumed to be a cherub pointing its bow towards an unassuming pair. you even managed to snag a picture with aether who lazily threw a peace sign at the camera with his half-eaten ice cream. his blushing cheeks were hidden by the darkness of the night and filtered with the glow of a yellow firework but it was present. you felt it against your cheek as he moved to pull you by the waist.

"happy valentine's!" he shouted and you laughed as he winced at the sheer volume of his voice. not that you would call it loud compared to everything else in your vicinity. surrounded by the cheers of exhilarated children and the encouraging screams of their parents, you dropped the idea of trying to top their volume in favor of returning your lover's greeting with a chaste peck on his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours.

aether held your gaze for a second longer before beaming and returning the favor by pressing a kiss on your forehead with a mumbled 'i love you.' deciding not to waste the view, you both turned back to the sky where the fireworks show seemed to be ending soon. the spurts of color that came every other second now had larger intervals and all around you, mumbles of disappointment were expressed. you couldn't blame them. you wanted the moment to last a little bit longer too. before you could pout for long, aether had called your name before motioning to the more quiet side of the park.

it was only after you were quite a distance away from the celebration that you realized how smoky and stuffy the environment had been. as you took a deep breath of the crisp air, aether shot you a sympathetic glance as he tapped the spot beside him on the grass. the moment you were settled, you leaned into his shoulder and he let out a sound of approval at your close proximity.

"did you have fun?"

"yeah… did you?"

golden locks tickled your nose as his fringe came out of the braid he was sporting when he nodded, "i always have fun when i'm with you."

"really? if i didn't know any better, i'd say you like me better than the ice cream you were eating!"

"but i do! you're my favorite person. the best part of waking up. that's why i don't need you to jump off a cliff for me. just… hold my hand. let's fall together."

"how tragically romantic… have you been studying shakespeare for your literature classes?"

"shut up," aether laughs as he rests his head on top of yours, "you're ruining my cheesy comment."

"ok, ok! i'm shutting up."

golden eyes flickered green then red and finally, pink as the last of the fireworks fizzled into nothing only to be replaced by the quieter booms and explosions of the stars far away from earth.

"i hope the only falling we'll ever need to do is falling deeper in love with each other."

you smiled, wrapping your hands around his as you let out a contented smile. you need not the fireworks to make you see the world in a rose-tinted sheen. life was so much better with him by your side — so much brighter too with his precious eyes and brilliant smiles. he really was your sunshine. a light so powerful that it can weather away the exhaustion and the weariness you held in your fractured soul. perhaps it was a sin to keep him all to yourself but as your eyes fluttered close, you find yourself comforted by the fact that no depth nor dark would dub a descent for him and with him not worthwhile.

taglist / be added or removed here

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @pumpikun

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

# 0.00 - THE END.

╰ Prologue to 'The Five Wishes You Fulfilled For Me Before I Died'

ㅤㅤㅤ— join the taglist | masterpost | next chapter

ONCE UPON A TIME, you died but before you did, an angel with a solemn frown walked towards you in an empty cathedral. he had been slow with his footsteps, allowing his worn boots to echo against the newly polished tiles of this sacred space. you knew aether — by heart and mind — and you were just as much as a sibling to him as his lost one was. the bond you two shared from all the countless days of travel made it awfully easy to spot his hesitance and lousily hidden despair. funnily, his pain hurt you more than the silence ever could and the sight of paimon's trembling lips had caused you to laugh emptily.

"i'm dying," you whisper but your words had made them flinch as if you had just screamed at the top of your lungs, "i'm dying, right?"

they need not reply.

you nod subduedly in recognition, fingers tapping nervous patterns on your blanket-covered lap as you racked your head for something that would ease the suffocating tension that sullied the unmistakable comfort and security your newly found family used to bring. then again, a sad smile plagues your ashen face, how can anything make this devastating situation any better? perhaps it was too much for you to ask them to pretend to be happy for your comfort but it is what it was. you did not fear death, or at least, not as much as you fear what you would be leaving behind.

"how long?"

the traveler swallows, none of his usual silently mischievous persona as his raspy voice finally pierces the air, "a week at most."

"that's good... that's..." you coughed, hiding the emotions that resurfaced all at once as paimon snapped into the bloodcurdling sob she was trying to keep at bay, "that's enough..."

the truth was death is ever-looming. it was an unmistakable fact that everyone tries to ignore in favor of dubbing their 'live your life to the fullest' mantras with some better-sounding euphemism. the bold ones; the braver ones, however, call it as is. the living dies every day in every second and in every corner of this wretched earth. numbers dwindle on top of every small flower and sometimes, the grains of time's hourglass fall like springtime storms as opposed to its occasional light rain showers. that is the inevitable and surrounded by people who constantly rushed in and out of battle, it was a fact that you had readily accepted for yourself as well.

of course, you could spend the rest of your seven days drilling this inside your head to muffle the very mortal noise that buzzed inside it. death was inevitable, yes, but you were still a young kid dying. you were dying. it's the real deal because bless them, you don't think the nuns have it in them to play a godawful prank on you. regardless of the whens and hows that no one, not even the archons, could answer, you knew that the pins and needles that climbed from the depths of your stomach to the edges of your throat were dread. acceptance of reality was separate from finding the world to be unfair. you will die and there's nothing you can do about that but repeat it over and over again until its gravity settles on your numbing insides. whatever loosely planned future you had in mind can be easily thrown with the heap of regret and hope that you had strewn behind your contracted pupils.

"why?" aether mutters as he sinks into his knees with a muffled thud, "why must i lose you too?"

that, you cannot answer and your chest tightens until you were clawing at the linen sheets until your fingers ached. you didn't know. you couldn't have known. the last thing you remembered was the elegant descent of powder snow as they adorned your head before panicked calls of your name and pitch-black voids. it was nothing at first and soon it'll be permanently nothing again. if you had known that the inevitable would come so soon then maybe you would've run away to spare this poor kid another grieving. maybe you would've been desperate enough to throw yourself into some mad scientist's dubious experiments or maybe you could've devoted yourself to alchemy and produced an actual, working philosopher's stone for yourself. the what-ifs filled your brain the same way ideas for your snowman-making contest did just half an hour ago. you suddenly missed that version of you and you realized that for those whose death has been marked on the boatman's calendar, mourning starts while you're still breathing.

when distant relatives died, those that remain mostly spoke of their last wishes at their funeral. their eulogies denote the way they have lived and touched others and the tears begin to fall for those who were not lucky enough to say goodbye. that's the only silver lining in your situation, you supposed. you could bid your farewells to those that you held dear, maybe buy them a parting gift, and heck, you might as well plan your own funeral and order all the necessities so they wouldn't bear the burden of it all. you know you're loved and you know that you will be missed but the last thing that you wanted was for them to be stuck in a limbo of loss.

but... how do you even begin to say that the end has come? do you wait until kaeya's inebriated beyond belief? do you mutter it as you disinfect diluc's wounds? do you just leave a letter at jean's office and have her do the hard work for you? none of it felt right but maybe that's because none of this felt right to you in the first place. you can't even pinpoint which stage of grief you're at because so many and so few thoughts ran through your head at the same time. most of them were the typical 'i wish i told them how much they meant to me' and 'i wish i had done more of this than that' so it also posed the question of 'would i be a different person if i had?' probably. you might have turned out to be a words of affirmation over acts of service kind of person (or vice versa) and maybe you might've learned how to compose songs and play the lyre for your significant other. you might've set yourself up for an even earlier death by trying to beat your allergies or maybe you could've lived longer if you had chosen to do your daily ten thousand steps instead of lounging around the room you rented with your commission payments.

why did that even matter? it's all in the past and none of it can be altered. now though? you don't even have much of a future to find the answers. if it was all pointless, you might as well live life as how you had because at least, you knew it was fun even if it was far from being perfect. then again, you sighed, unable to stop yourself from scratching at your scalp in utter frustration, there was an unspoken pressure to do something different because this was the all-or-nothing deal for you. actually... it's more of an all-then-nothing situation now that you thought about it.

three, two, one.

one, two, three.

you breathed, in and out, following guuji yae's guidance when aether was the one in some deep-set delirium from whatever happened in that factory with the balladeer. you thought it would snap you out of yours but aether's trembling grip did you better than that.

"i-i'm sorry i—"

"i should be the one saying that," you interrupt him as you moved to wipe his tears as you would with klee or diona when they get injured over something except... this was aether. he has never cried before yet here he was, pouring his heart out as he buried his face into the flesh of your knees, hands cutting the circulation off of yours because he half-believed that you'd slip away the moment he loosens it even by just a little.

"i don't— i can't— i—"

"hey... take your time... i'm here."

but not for long. eventually, he'd have to learn how to stand up alone all over again because neither you nor his sister would be there for him. he'd have to learn how to brush the knots off his hair and stitch the tears in his clothes together. he'd have to speak up more and be twice wary of strangers they encounter because you wouldn't be around to interpret his gaze or gauge other people's sincerity. aether would have to grow up again. he'd have to relearn how to live without someone to guide him along the way.

you carefully brush the stray hair strands off his face because suddenly, you were hyper-aware that in a few days' time, you wouldn't be able to do this anymore. the realization urged you to hug him tight and so you did. you tugged him up to sit by your side and wrapped your arms around him with a tenderness unknown even to you before this time. bones creaked in discomfort but you ignored it for the sake of aether who clung onto you desperately and paimon who had moved from her spot to nuzzle into the unoccupied crook of your neck.

there was this inazuman lullaby you loved when you were hanging out at gorou's camp during the rebellion. it was about a soldier coming home, battered and bruised and different because of the cruelties of war but he was alive and well enough to greet his family with a tender smile and a sincere 'i'm okay' or as you'd like to phrase it, 'i'll be okay with you by my side.' it was vaguely reminiscent of your situation, you think as you hum its soft melody to the traveler's ear. you can't outrun death and this war was not one you'll be able to win but it'll be okay. it'll be okay because you wouldn't be alone as you wait for your doomsday to come.

you will be okay and they will be too... with time.

a part of you was antsy as you sat unmoving, watching the clock's hand move from one to two-thirty. everything's too fast for someone with a ticking bomb for a lifetime and you were currently doing too little. you wanted to move — do something and not idle by, do something and not waste the time you didn't have. you wanted to move away but you can't find the strength to pry yourself out of aether's arms who had just cried himself to sleep. paimon has also settled into your lap instead, choosing to rest here instead of her mysterious pocket dimension. if you were her, you'd be scared to leave too. who knows if you'll pop back in only to find out that you're already a subject for condolences? for now... you decided to let them have this. you owe it to them while you still can.

when they wake up, you'll visit your favorite alchemist. maybe he'll have some answers for the questions that have left you at a loss.

╰ taglist

@dourpeep @justsidecharacterthings @nightfloweruponahill

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。YOU ARE THE DISASTER I DESIRE

━━ PAIRING: xiao/reader

━━ GENRE: fluff

━━ SUMMARY: the stubborn reluctance to admit defeat leads some stories to end in bitter tragedies. thankfully, xiao was much too willing to give in against the nonexistent war your presence has brought.

━━ CONTAINS: modern!au, slightly vulgar language, one mildly suggestive scene

━━ VALENTINE'S 2022 EVENT SPECIAL

you'll have more luck trying to find a needle in a ten-meter tall haystack than you'll have when trying to decipher the inner workings of the human mind. there was just too much to consider — too much information and contradictions for our puny, little brains to comprehend. it's nigh impossible and the only reason a big shot philosopher hasn't screamed about it as they ran down the street, caffeinated and definitely insane, is because no one's ready to admit that they don't and will never know. still, if you want to be meaninglessly stubborn, taking a look into xiao's brain is definitely a great place to start. he doesn't really bother segregating information into ridiculously minuscule categories — just what he tolerates and what he does not. a simple mindset for a relatively simple man who liked to stay away from unnecessary baggage.

"crap man... it's valentine's day tomorrow. i don't even know what to give my girlfriend..."

xiao sighed in disinterest, hoping that this person would speak softer for the sake of his peace of mind in this cramped train, "just buy her roses or chocolates like every other guy out there?"

"you know... this is exactly why no one likes you."

he thought that it was better to zone out rather than be forced to listen to a conversation that was heading steeply into a conversation that he frankly couldn't care less about. he tolerates most festivities and holidays because there was always a silver lining. valentine's day, however? xiao wouldn't go as far as saying as he despises it because that's how little he thinks of the celebration.

it's just a regular day turned into a breeding ground of opportunistic, capitalistic monsters. he'd hate to quote his horrible, narrow-minded teachers from his childhood but wasn't love something that's supposed to be shown every day and not just one day of the year? no matter how he looks at the situation, he just can't see the point in buying overwhelmingly sweet treats or overpriced flowers that were sure to wilt the next day.

"listen... it's the effort and the thought that counts! partners love the idea of special treatment. it makes them feel like they're appreciated because there's a day that's dedicated just for them, you get me? no one stays for a lazy piece of shit who couldn't be bothered to think of a special something to give..."

"...since when did you become a love guru? wasn't your girlfriend just saying that she wants to break up—"

relief settled into his bones as people — including those high school students — poured out of the train. with more room to move, he stretched his legs out, pulling out the headphones he had in the process. xiao's station was the last stop which was currently two stops away from where he was now. with everyone located in the other carts, there were only five other people seated around him, all of which are busy minding their own business with no intention of bothering him anytime soon. good. some peace and quiet... with that thought in mind, xiao's eyes slowly fluttered close. a little nap couldn't possibly hurt...

no one stays for a lazy piece of shit who couldn't be bothered to think of a special something to give.

opening his eyes with a start, xiao cursed those burdensome kids and their equally burdensome words. he tried to pretend that the anxious feeling in his guts didn't exist as he hurriedly shoved his headphones in his bag. seriously... why do unnecessary burdens keep on flying in his direction? biting back a groan, he stood up from his seat with what was without a doubt, his deepest frown of the day (a weighty comment seeing as he spent the entire day with a grumpily frowning).

he disliked valentine's day a lot, he thought to himself as he stepped out of the train one station early, he was sure of it now.

.

.

.

sniffling out of habit, you tapped the send button on your phone for the sixteenth time in a row. xiao wasn't one to send lovey-dovey texts first thing in the morning but he also wasn't the type to leave you hanging. heck, he responds even when he doesn't feel like talking to you after a fight! memories of that time only made you feel more uncomfortable so you settled on worrying your lips as you hailed a taxi. the logical angel on your shoulder tells you that you were probably thinking too deeply into the unlikely extremes but what can you say? you love the guy too much to be unbothered by his missing replies.

being apart from him without knowing what was happening was dreadful and the words 'never again' keep on etching themselves on your mind until all you could do was attempt to control your heart's rhythm by looking at the blurred, discolored buildings outside the car. were cabs always this slow? it was running on sixty kilometers per hour, which in hindsight, was not necessarily slow when you consider the fact that you don't usually move an inch until half an hour later when trapped in the usual morning rush. still, the antsy feeling that was making it hard to sit still remained and gnawed at your mind. perhaps it was the caffeine that was making you feel more nervous than necessary. whatever the case, you suddenly felt bad for taking the updates he usually sends for granted.

xiao might be a little rough on the edges but he was a sweetheart who just had a little more trouble when it came to expressing himself. he was someone who tells you that he's at your favorite bakery as a silent cue for you to tell him what you want. he's also someone who sends you random spotify qr codes when he's feeling extra sweet so that you can listen to the same songs he was listening to. he's different from other guys but you never once doubted his affections because every day, he reminds you that he does almost everything with you settled comfortably in the back of his mind.

thanking the cab driver for bearing with the way you were anxiously tapping your fingers on your knees for the past fifteen minutes, you rushed out of the car and into the three-story apartment building he was residing in for the time being. it's stupid, really. you would've insisted that he move over to yours more if you knew that you'd run up three flights of stairs because of your wild hypothesis. maybe then you would worry more about who's going to catch the roach in your bathroom instead of his entire safety and wellbeing.

"xiao?" you croaked out as you tried to regain your breathing. the small, wooden sign that read '304' was barely hanging upright and the five consecutive knocks you did finally caused it to fall with a muffled thud, "xiao? are you home?"

no answer.

you knocked three more times — with more force this time and you wondered if you would have to keep standing here until your knuckles were all red and raw. to be honest, you would've left to try your luck elsewhere if it weren't for your strangely precise gut feeling telling you that he's somewhere in there. well, that and the fact that you could vaguely pick out the sound of clanking from beyond the door.

"shit!"

jumping in surprise, a panicked call slipped out of your lips as you heard xiao's sharp curse. you were certain something was wrong now. bless him but xiao was more indifferent and passive-aggressive than resentful and feral — two things that you most certainly heard in what appeared to be a small burst of emotions. quite frankly, you have had enough of it. you knew that xiao, despite voicing out his dissatisfaction, began leaving a spare key somewhere after coming home to you sitting in the hallway pathetically because you forgot keys and wallet at home. you didn't feel like walking for thirty minutes or so just to get home, you said, and the expression he wore in reply was still deeply ingrained in your memory: an exasperated and, it could've been just a trick of the light but you wanted to believe that there was endearment as well in his tired frown.

just as you remembered the foreign tenseness in his shoulders when he saw your slumped-over form, you found exactly what you needed. the key in question was small and silver-coated; particularly easy to miss behind the green, polka-dotted clay pot you gave as a gag gift to break the monotony of his place. fighting back your frown, you eyed the key on your hand. well... if things went south because of your invasion of privacy, you could always say that it was because he managed to snatch an extremely precious lover who worried a little too much over his seeming lack of concern about himself. right... surely, he won't deny that much...

"xiao?" you called out softly, carefully taking a few steps forward as if the ground you were treading on was made of the most fragile glass in the world, "where are you?"

he still hadn't replied but the unfamiliar metallic noises were much louder now that you're inside. it didn't look like he was in trouble as everything was exactly how you left it two days ago. one of your larger sweaters was draped over the couch, something you placed there on purpose because xiao had a horrible habit of choosing to suffer in the cold instead of moving out of his comfortable lounging position when he's already so deep into scrolling through youtube videos. sighing, you crouched to pick up a notebook that had slipped out of his bag. it looks like he hasn't tidied that up either when he got home yesterday.

it was all very unlike him and with a better sense of security now that you're here, you find your concern transform into confusion. the xiao you knew wouldn't stay inside the kitchen for long unless the world would cave in if he didn't. with a small knock to announce your presence, you immediately find yourself stifling a laugh. the xiao you knew also wouldn't be caught dead staring at you like a deer caught in headlights in the middle of what appears to be the remnants of a previously functional kitchen.

"what in the world..."

flinching at your not-question question, xiao immediately averts his gaze to the chocolate-covered floor, "why... why are you here?"

"am i not welcome?"

you didn't mean to tease him but before you could stop yourself, the words were pouring out of your mouth. at your response, xiao sighs, running a flour-covered hand through his hair. an unknown feeling nibbled at some unfamiliar part of your brain as a strong urge to fix his hair in place became apparent. the flour had dusted his hair white and you realized that darker tones suited him better because it made his eyes pop out more; his eyes that were always firm and strong — always composed save for the times where it's about you. his eyes that were always seeing through your white lies and hesitation; eyes that were also dim and tired and looking at everything but your inquisitive gaze.

"no, it's not that..." he finally breaks his silence with another groan, "you weren't supposed to be here yet."

"hey, what's wrong?"

xiao shifted his weight but nonetheless relented to your hold as you gently squeezed his forearms in encouragement, "i was... attempting to make a cake but i wasn't aware that there are a lot of... ridiculous steps to it."

"a cake? well, yeah... it's a pretty tedious process at the start but what for?"

his frown grows deeper as he stared at you like you grew two heads in the span of the seconds he was not looking at you, "...you don't know what day it is today?"

"what day?" you mirror his expression, "oh my god, did i forget your father's birthday?"

"you're hopeless... even i know what today is."

cake... now that you thought about it, your instagram feed was oddly full of flowers and chocolate cakes... was it already february 14? time flies by fast but you don't think xiao of all people would go out of his way to make you a cake on a holiday that's not even a proper holiday. noticing the furrow in your brows, xiao sighs for the nth time. he had an inkling of what you were thinking about.

"i thought you'll appreciate it if i did something everyone else is doing. i know that i'm not good at showing my emotions and all this romantic nonsense but i... i didn't want you to think that i couldn't be bothered to do things for you."

of course, you knew that. if xiao was someone who genuinely didn't try to make things work then you would've long walked out of the door with a relieved smile. the fact that you were here, face still warm from the way you rushed from your home to his just because you were afraid that something happened to him meant that you loved him. you loved him so much because he loved you just as much. you loved him because he's always so willing to cross the boundaries he had set just to make you smile. the discomforting gloom that made his shoulders slouch almost imperceptibly made your eyes gloss over with gratitude. where else will you find a man who would go out of his way to do something for you even when it's painfully obvious that he's leagues away from his comfort zone? you're doomed, you think as you took another step closer to him. he's ruined everyone else for you and you've presented yourself as a willing sacrifice for this so-called demise.

"there's no need," you smile sweetly as you laid your forehead against his, "you're fine as is. i love you even without the grandeur and cheesy lines."

without warning, he felt the air getting stuck in his throat. there had to be something seriously wrong with him. it wasn't normal to hear the way adrenaline rushes to every crevice of his body and it was definitely not normal to have his hands shake as you slowly cradled them in between yours. he feels weak and rather helpless as all he could do was wait with bated breathe as everything that comprised your being overwhelmed and filled the blank void of his mind. nothing but everything about you — your tender caress, your citrusy shampoo — you. wars were unpredictable but this was no war. you came and you conquered, leaving him no room to fight back. actually, perhaps it was better to say that he didn't want to fight back. the sweet repeat of your voice was coaxing him to say 'i surrender — all of me, all of what i will be. have it all if you want' and he's way past being ready to admit that he's nothing but a subservient subject of yours who'll present everything in this world if you gave him your word.

feeling the courage dealt by the aftermath of his intimate realization, xiao takes your hands off to properly pull you into a hug. blinking in surprise, you stifled another chuckle as his nose brushed over a ticklish part of your neck. ah, he's doomed, he thinks as his eyes fluttered to a close to better remember the way his heart flips over and over in delight at the sound of your laughter. what have you done to him that he's become exactly like the person he thought he'll never be? the scent of sugar and coffee clung to his beige sweater and it's sweet and nice and incredibly familiar just like the warmth that seeped through your clothes as his hands pulled you closer to his thundering heart.

"wait... just a little bit more... don't pull away just yet."

you tried your best to pretend as if you weren't affected— as if your heart wasn't seconds away from breaking through your ribs. you tried but why did you bother? those amber eyes could demand the most hideous from you and you'll comply like a doll so pliant you could only be said to be made for him. how can you say 'no' when he pulls back just so you could see the way his eyes grow a shade deeper — when his fingers, a little calloused from work, tenderly touch your cheek as if you were made of porcelain? his touch moves lower— to your jaw— and you mutter all the prayers you can remember in your lovestruck haze, all so his lips would meet yours just a second faster.

"thank you for understanding," he whispers and the rarity of his words was nothing compared to the rarity of haze and love hidden in his voice. you don't trust your own to deliver — finding that you have long lost your ability to communicate in front of someone who was undeniably in love with you and all the worry lines you had because of him; because you're always so caring and gentle when it comes to him that it makes him weep for his lost rationality.

you look after him so well that it almost makes him feel so bad for taking so much from you.

"happy valentine's, xiao."

but he also was not above welcoming his greed as he finally slots his lips between yours.

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

# 0.04 - THE FOURTH WISH.

╰ ‘I wish I got married before I die.’ | Chapter 4 of ‘The Five Wishes You Fulfilled For Me Before I Died’ series

ㅤㅤ— join the taglist | masterpost | previous | next

THUNDER ROARED OUTSIDE and it greatly contrasted the peace locked within the four walls of the house you were kindly forced into living in. it's not an unappreciated blessing by any means, you thought to yourself as a soft smile decorates your tired features, you don't think you've ever experienced such fancy accommodations in your travels. you also don't think you'll ever refrain from appreciating the pleasure of idling around in such a comfortable space while doing what is arguably one of the most uncomfortable tasks in mankind.

"you know..." you sighed though amusement makes your eyes glimmer under the warm lighting of the kitchen, "i don't think you're supposed to beat up a dead octopus when trying to make a stew."

"don't you have any faith in your favorite childhood friend?" your alleged favorite childhood friend replies with a faux pout — a fact you greatly cringed at. it does not suit him one bit.

“take a guess."

"aha!" childe paid no heed to your snarky words, too busy grinning victoriously as he finally pried one of the tentacles away from the curled up seafood, "see? i know what i'm doing! just keep your eyes on me and i'll give you a great show — and a good meal."

"okay, chef but maybe use a knife next time. at this pace, we'll be eating dinner tomorrow"

laughing as he froze in his tracks, you decided that you finally had enough of his silent misery and hopped down from the counter. he wasn't a bad cook per se but he was one of those who tends to stick close to cooking only meals from their hometown or, on worst cases, simply dumping their catch on a pot over a fire. it was enough to fend starvation away when he was out camping but it certainly wasn't enough to satiate your sudden cravings for inazuman dishes.

"move aside and learn from the best," with a casual wink, you proceeded to continue his task with so much more ease.

“show off."

“oh please. i don't want to hear that coming from you, mister egotistical."

"wow," he drawls with a faint laugh, leaning against the sink to stare at the side of your face properly, "harsh words for someone who dropped everything, sailed to an unfamiliar nation and fought against scamming scammers just to get to you."

you scrunch your face in distaste. yeah... inazuman natives are good at taking opportunities when opportunities appear, "in my defense, i didn't ask you to."

“yeah, i know..." a brow raises at his sudden change in volume. even as a kid, childe was someone who held the energy of ten suns. to see him so... quiet, made you the faintest bit uncomfortable, "but i'd do it again and more if that's what it'll take to see you again."

the rhythmic sounds of wood meeting metal halts with your sudden pause. his words — his noble intentions — swirls around the kitchen before settling somewhere close to your heart. with a small smile, you continue chopping the leeks with precision. you knew how to do that but you didn't know how to respond to him.

"if i ask you a question, would you answer honestly?"

"shoot."

childe frowns, laying a calloused hand over yours to stop you from your task. confused by his sudden action, you turned to look at him only to falter as you spot a foreign gravity in his expression, "were you ever going to tell me?"

“well? were you?" pursing your lips, your lips part to offer a reply but he beats you to it, "or was i supposed to wake up to an invitation to your funeral in front of my door?"

"i—" you pause, brows furrowing as he ran a hand through his bright, ginger locks. he's trembling. you don't think you've seen him do that ever since he joined that nefarious organization.

he swallows with an incredulous laugh; his familiar face contorting to showcase his distress, "i would never have known if i wasn't looking out for you. if i— if i found out a day later, i would've been greeting your corpse instead."

“childe, i'm sorry—"

"'childe'?" he smiles bitterly, "i was always ajax to you. is that why you didn't tell me? because i was nothing but your enemy now?"

you narrow your eyes in warning, "don't even say that! you're... you'll always be my first friend but you... you were off doing whatever the tsaritsa wishes and i didn't know how to reach you. you would've been the first to know if you—"

you freeze, realizing that you might have crossed the line if you hadn’t stopped.

“no, don't do that. you're making me feel more horrible," childe— no, ajax says with a shake of his head, "tell me. tell me what i did wrong."

you looked up and you see a storm much more terrifying than the one that reigned outside. has fear always been like this? has it always been a desire to drown in the confused, hurt wails of dull but striking blues? has it always filled you with dread, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you reacquaint yourself with the familiar visage of someone you once knew except painted on his beautiful features was an anguish you could never dream of understanding? you don't know if it was fear of him, for him or for what was yet to come but you found yourself compelled to pour your most honest truths.

“you weren't there, ajax. you left and you never came back to me."

he chuckles miserably and if death was mercy, you hoped that mercy would befall you now. with the way he adjusts his collar, you realize that the air has gone dreadfully thick — that you hadn't been breathing until he told you of his desperate attempt to see you for one last time. it hurts and you found yourself stifling a sob behind your palm as your guilt-ridden eyes watched his aimless pacing. everything's empty right here and now. if it weren't, his footsteps wouldn't have left you feeling all hollow and sick.

"but i did, didn't i? in liyue—"

“you told me that you were childe and-and then signora called you tartaglia so who were you? who was the man who threatened to destroy an entire fucking harbor? i didn't want to believe that was ajax because my ajax wouldn't have done something like that..."

"you're—" childe bows his head, hands gripping the countertop until his knuckles were all white and tense, "all this time, you felt like this? b-but," you gasp as he abruptly looks back at you, lips trembling as he succumbed to a frantic daze, "but you know, right? i'd never hurt you. i'd never hurt you even if i take nine other names. i'd never hurt you ever."

tearing away your gaze, you looked at the abandoned ingredients mournfully, haphazardly wiping away your tears with one hand, "if the tsaritsa ordered you to kill me... would you?"

he pauses, jaw ticking as the cogs in his mind churned. before long, he was laughing bitterly, "good thing we'll never have to know, huh?"

“yeah..." you mirror his actions, wistfully watching as the rain grew stronger outside, "yeah, i suppose."

the sudden feeling of being out of place drew harsh circles on the pit of your stomach and the urge to jump out of this window just so you could be away from the suffocating air that tarnished your lungs a sickly black was so strong that you had to step away from it. even if you were to try, you don't think you'd even make it five steps away given your current state of mind. a loud thud jolts you out of your thoughts and you instinctively reach out only to pull back just as quick when you saw his sunken form.

“do you want me to leave?" he whispers but you hear him just fine.

“stay.”

childe frowns. if he was in your place, he'd probably be thrashing the place in fury. he couldn't answer. god, he feels a fresh wave of tears well up as he shoves his face into his palms, he couldn't answer. it should've been a simple question. how could he ever point his blade at the best part of him? his feelings be damned, his body be desecrated but his loyalty to you? to question it in ill will should've been a crime — a crime that should never have been his to commit but when you asked him that, full of doubt and skepticism, he doesn't even know anything anymore; not himself, not his mission, not the future, not you.

the you he knew would never have doubted him or rather, would never have been given a reason to doubt him. the ajax he, himself, knew would choose to run miles in knee-deep snow just to fetch you medicine even if his body crumbled eventually. that side of him died in the abyss and it was fine. all he needed was your smile and suddenly, ajax was grinning back at you with the youthful blush of a boy whose love was too big to fit in his body. he thought that was fine — thought that it was enough but it turns out that it was only his mind that does wonders, childe thinks to himself as he feels a pain beyond compare on the surface of his skin. ajax was long gone and even you thought so and in the typical cruel turn of fates, whatever softer side of him that was bound to be born from your gentle gaze was dying before he even got a chance to see it.

“why? why do you still ask me to stay when you believe i'm not the person you knew?"

you chuckle humorlessly, "because even after all you’ve done to us, i still care. you might not be the person i knew but you are still someone who looked after me. even if i don’t know which name to use now, i want to keep you by my side even if its for a shallow reason like ‘you have his face.’”

the man before you stills before nodding slowly. the itch to comfort you, to wipe away your tears overwhelms him but he eventually decides against it. that was ajax’s right and he was someone neither of you believed to exist any longer.

if he could turn back the time and spare the version of him that was naive and weak but sincere and kind, would you let him hold you? a sickening stubbornness leaves a dull ache on his chest and childe (because he knew for certain that he exists), finds his fingers curling around your wrist.

“i can be him," he whispers with misplaced determination as he tugs at you to sit beside him gently, "for one last day, i'll be him."

"you will or will you pretend to be him? those are two different things…"

he shrugs, face devoid of anything that could tell you of his thoughts, “can’t i just have the luxury of pretending to be someone you can actually stand?”

“what do you—”

“i want you to need me. i want you to rely on me and i don’t know how you remembered me back then but the ajax i know was selfish. he wanted you all for himself but yes, he was a good person. the person you’re seeing right now is a murderer but he does love you just as much as your ajax did.”

you don’t pull away even as his grip grows tighter and tighter, “this person wants to stay by your side. i don’t want to leave you alone so you know what? even if i have to pretend to be someone who doesn’t exist just so you’ll let me in, i’ll do it. i’ll do anything because the last thing i want is to lose you when you’re one of the few people who still loves me regardless.”

you probably should've questioned the way his voice grew softer but as you opened your eyes, you were greeted by his tear-stained cheeks and beautiful blue eyes. they were crinkled as his lips were twisted into a sad but sincere smile. fuck, you part your lips in surprise as you hear the familiar thunderous beat of your heart in your ear. in a trance, you glance at the window — just to make sure that it was raining and not snowing because he really looked like that kid you knew by heart. the friend who loved poking your cheeks. your first love who told you that he'll be the first to come to you if you needed help.

he was here and maybe you were wrong to say that he left when he has always been right in front of you — looking after you even when you tried to avoid him in some ‘i couldn’t find you’ pretense.

“you’re an idiot,” you returned his smile, “i think it rubbed on to me.”

“now you’re calling me names?” ajax laughs and yes, ajax… it’s the only name you’ll ever have to use to call him and you feel stupid for forgetting that.

“you’re always just ajax to me too. no matter how much you change,” you sigh as you thumbed away his tears. they never suit him, not ever since.

he doesn’t speak but he does pull you against him, letting you lay on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling, fingers tracing an unknown pattern over your arm.

OUR FIRST DREAM — you blearily opened your eyes and in you post-sleep haze, you find yourself aimlessly patting the sheets beside you. you didn’t know if you hoped to find someone there more than you hoped you wouldn’t.

“i’m over here, babe,” you didn’t need to see his grin to know it was present and you realized that you hoped he was beside you instead. that way, your heavy pats could’ve doubled as slaps to his stupid face as well.

“i finished cooking dinner for you. thankfully, you did all the hard parts.”

“how long was i asleep?”

“hm… for a little less than an hour? who knows, i didn’t even notice that you fell asleep on me until i was trying to get you off.”

“that makes the two of us then.”

“never mind that. less talking, more eating. you’ll need the energy to keep up,” at his mischievous grin, you narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“what are you planning?”

“many things.”

scrunching your face in confusion, you decided to see through his demand, albeit still wary for very valid reasons. picking up your spoon, you took the first bite, flinching when he suddenly leaned closer.

“so?”

“it’s good,” he beamed and a small smile that reflects your truest feelings falls on your lips, “aren’t you eating with me?”

“i will… later.”

“you’re acting so strangely. are you—” you freeze as your teeth met something hard. immediately spitting it out, ajax found himself on the receiving end of a harsh glare.

“you freaking—”

“geez, look at it first before you curse me.”

“what will that change when…” it was your words that died down as you picked up the lousily twisted wire in your hands, “is this…”

“the ring you proposed to me with when we were six? yeah…”

heat climbed up to your cheeks and you immediately scrambled away from ajax who was grinning widely at your embarrassment, “why do you still have this?!”

“how can i not? you gave it to me when you professed your ‘undying lo—’”

“okay! you can shut up now!”

in your frenzy, you don’t realize that you’ve pounced on him until you were sitting on his lap, one hand firmly sealing his lips from saying another word and one hand on his shoulder to keep your balance. if it weren’t for him sliding his hands on your back, you probably wouldn’t even realize how provocative your position was to the outsider’s eye.

“a-anyway! why are you bringing this up now? are you planning on making me shrivel out of shame? because trust me, it’ll take more than that to incapacitate me!”

“and you say i’m the idiot,” he shakes his head with a light laugh, “i’m asking you to marry me.”

“what?”

“i took the ring because i knew i wanted to marry you someday but…” ajax takes your hand, brushing a thumb over your knuckles before placing a sweet kiss on them. you feel his smile on your skin and you couldn’t stop yourself from returning the favor.

“this is so dumb. i can’t even fit this on my little finger.”

“well…” he suddenly pats his pockets, “good thing i have something for you.”

curiously eyeing him, you asked the question that has been running amok in your mind, “how long have you been planning this?”

ajax smiles melancholically as he toys with the rouge velvet box in his hands. placidly looking up at him, you realize that he’s been avoiding your gaze. you’re a little grateful. you didn’t know what you’ll be seeing in them but you were near certain that you wouldn’t be able to stomach it without being sick.

“ever since we were kids. i made the ring myself when i turned eighteen and i was just hoping that i’d stumble upon you again. thankfully i did but i guess i should’ve been more specific with my prayers.”

“don’t smile like that,” you huffed as you moved to get off his lap only to be stopped by his warm hand that gripped your hips tighter, “you’re making me feel horrible.”

“oh yeah? well think about how i feel when we’ve been talking for four minutes without an answer from you.”

your heart stuttered as you felt a fresh wave of heat rushing to your ears. no matter where you look at it, this situation was very embarrassing. you weren’t even dating and yet, here he was, proposing to you as if he was just asking you for a candy! he’s always been shameless but as your eyes narrow at him, you also notice the underlying nervousness in his smile.

“i can’t accept it,” you finally whisper after a great minute’s reluctance.

he would be lying if he said he didn’t consider you saying no but at the same time, there was an inner voice that told him that it was just a small possibility. you’ve always went with his crazy ideas even when you were young. sometimes it was out of a spontaneous adrenaline rush but sometimes it was out of your worry for his sake. either way, ajax knew that you’ll always have his back. if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have saved him one too many times while he was recklessly plundering enemies in that strange domain you both went to. so really, it was not just his pride that stubbornly looked upon you with a fierce but still friendly stare.

“why not?”

“because… i’m dying in what? two days? in two days this would mean nothing to me but you? you’d carry the title of being a widower for the rest of your life—”

“so what? that’s certainly not the worst thing i’ve ever heard,” you glare at him and he immediately raised his hands in defeat, “don’t you love me?”

you grimace, “it’s not that…”

“then that settles it! from now on, i’m your lovely dear husband!”

“has no one ever told you that love isn’t enough? that it won’t feed hungry stomachs or place a roof over our heads?”

“yeah but i like to think that i’m more than capable of providing for your needs.”

he certainly was, you frown deeply as you remember the very prominent gap between your… financial capabilities. ajax was, without a doubt, a part of the higher society and if you were any more greedy, you would’ve stuck on him like a leech and sucked his wallet dry.

“i’m really not convinced—”

“fine,” he drawls, shoulders slouching in defeat, “just for one day and it’ll be off the records too. there. what can you possibly say now? don’t you want to experience my tender care?”

you eye him warily, “just one day?”

and like a golden retriever, he leans into you excitedly with an equally jubilant nod. you don’t know why he’s suddenly all over you when— you pause. in hindsight, ajax has always hovered around you, immediately involving himself in a spat if someone does so much as stare at you for longer than three seconds.

“you’re like a child,” you huff before prying the box out of his hands. immediately, he shrinks back to himself. you wonder if he finally realized how intimate this moment was… or, you chuckle amusedly, maybe he was just feeling nervous. ajax was a confident character but he always fails to carry that same air when he was around you. was it because he knew that you already knew all his embarrassing sides?

removing straying thoughts, you slowly opened the lid to reveal a blue tinted ring with pieces of gold leaf stuck in the settled resin. it reminded you of him — of his eyes and his hair under the bright glow of the setting sun. as you carefully fit it on your finger, you suddenly realized that you didn’t mind this at all. if anything, it reminded you of a few innocent words uttered to you once and it filled you with an immense feeling of comfort and on a bitter note, nostalgia.

“one day i’ll be your husband and we’ll crush the thrones of the gods together that even death would think twice before baring its teeth!”

A HOUSE OF CARDS MADE OF LOVE — marriage was a topic that was hard to speak of. it wasn’t something you experienced beforehand nor was it a topic that most people spoke fondly off. a few friends you’ve met in thoma’s housekeeping class all spoke of their regrets. you barely learned anything from the teacher but you did learn of their grave warnings. supposedly, everything goes downhill after the honeymoon stage ends but you supposed that was nothing you need to worry about. with just one day in your bizarre relationship, you think that you both would be too busy looking at the clock to worry about fighting.

“so uh… what do married couples do?”

ajax hums in thought, “partake in the other’s interests?”

“if this is an invitation to spar, forget it.”

he sighs exaggeratedly but for some reason, you believed that sparring was far from something that crossed his mind. a bit befuddling considering how a big chunk of his personality was founded on his energetic aggression but you supposed that it would be more surprising to find out that he was nothing more than that.

“well, what now?” you watch as he plops back down to the couch, face first as he lets out a groan.

“you tell me. you’re the one who proposed.”

“oh shit. we’re not married!”

“of course we’re not—”

“no like,” he abruptly stands up to face you with a mischievous smile. it’s something that never could be good, “we didn’t say our vows or anything like that!”

“no. absolutely not,” you tried your best to sound stern but as ajax hands moved efficiently to your ticklish spots you found that you were significantly harder to take seriously when laughing uncontrollably.

“what’s bad about letting your husband hear about your endless devotion?”

“oh my god! stop!”

in the end, you didn’t say your vows and neither did he but the way he looked at you as you laughed your head off had said a lot about himself and his feelings.

“jokes aside, how about we go fishing? you loved tagging along as a kid…”

you frown, immediately reminded of the ache in your limbs. you remembered. ajax’s father was a good man who’d often relent to your incessant whining. even back then, he’d allow you to come with them because he was sure that you and your friend wound wind up together. maybe he was right. maybe if ajax was a little less adventurous and if you were a little bit healthier… maybe you would’ve actually found yourself side by side with oaths spilling out of you in front of the goddess of love. to be frank, that was your dream and a voice inside your head wondered if it ever stopped being one.

“too tired…”

you had mumbled with what was the most heartbreaking expression on your face that it was hard for ajax to not guess what you were thinking. he swallows, hurriedly switching the subject because if there was one thing he was sure of, it’s that sadness hurts twice as much when laid upon your face that he has only known to show happiness and hope.

“okay then… let’s try something new together! there’s… uh yarn there?”

“yarn? you want to knit?” you couldn’t help but chuckle as you imagined his big, scarred hand knitting tiny little mittens and hats. you wonder if he still pokes his tongue out when he’s focused on some menial task. maybe not. a lot has happened in your time apart and it wasn’t exactly harbinger behavior to show such softness.

“i guess? how hard could it be?”

it wasn’t that hard when you get the hang of it but ajax believed otherwise. he has been cursing the damned needles for the nth time now and he doesn’t seem to be making progress from where you helped him begin. meanwhile, you were about halfway through the scarf your were working on. it’s been about three hours of nonstop knitting and you wonder if it’s really alright to do something so insignificant at this time of the week. then again, it wasn’t as if you had any room to make a choice.

“you okay?”

you hum before asking about what made him ask.

“well… you started getting slower with that thing you’re doing. are you feeling sleepy?”

“a little… should we go to bed?”

“you go ahead. i’ll just finish this thing.”

a few moments later and you still haven’t moved, making your… husband (it was still strange to call him that) look up in curiosity. he didn’t inquire but you felt like giving an explanation — an explanation that you didn’t have at this moment in time.

noticing your troubled gaze, ajax smiles before opening the blanket wordlessly. patting the spot beside him, you hesitated. was it alright to be this close to him? do all married couples feel awkward and lanky with themselves first? or do all of these happen because you were technically not married?

a flick to your forehead was all it took before you were glaring at ajax who took no offense and simply patted the spot beside him again. seeing no reason to state your thoughts, you moved to obey his request, crawling slowly to his side before cuddling close.

just like old times, you think as your eyes fluttered shut.

NO RAINBOW AFTER THE RAIN — you cracked your eyes open to see that the night has passed. surprisingly, you had a good rest, a rarity since you received the dreadful news. who could blame you, really, if the idea of not waking up was more real of a fear for you compared to the average joe? the next thing you realize was the missing presence of your companion. had he been called for an emergency? it wasn’t far from a surprise but it was a disappointment. shaking your head, you slowly rose from the couch which caused the blanket over your form to slip and fall.

“how kind of him,” you thought as you padded to the kitchen.

it seemed like he also cleaned the dishes. as far as you remember, the two of you got caught up in your sudden whirlwind marriage that you both stacked the dishes in the sink and left it for tomorrow. to think that he’d go against you and wash it when you had insisted that you’ll do it… well, that was definitely an ajax thing to do.

the more you thought about his actions, the more you realized that ajax was actually a good husband or at least, he appears he will be. it’s not something you doubted before but it was definitely not something you thought about in your recent years. sure, you just assumed that he’ll make the most wonderful spouse as a kid but your measure of greatness was solely focused on how many rounds of rock, paper, scissors he was willing to lose for you (in which case, yes. he was the best though you’re not sure if it’s on purpose or not.)

the creaking of the front door snapped you out of your reverie and cautiously, you peeked into the corridor only to reveal yourself, sluggish and still half-asleep but responsive.

“where did you go?”

“uh, i bought things to cook with. thought i’d make breakfast before you woke up but i guess you beat me to it.”

you instinctively moved behind his back, helping him off his coat as he brushed off the water in his hair, “it hasn’t stopped raining since yesterday.”

“shame… i was thinking of going outside to window shop.”

“yeah, maybe not. you might catch a cold,” he says lightheartedly as he pinches your nose briefly. without another word, he enters the kitchen presumably to put what he bought away.

“what’s for breakfast?”

you hear the rustling stop before he yells from inside the kitchen, “still thinking about it!”

chuckling to yourself, you considered going inside to help him but figured that you’d busy yourself with something else while he goes at it. eventually, he’ll have to leave inazuma but he couldn’t go out with rain-soaked clothes. a small displeased noise slips out of you. laundry was not a task you particularly enjoyed amongst all house chores but it’d have to take priority. if you finished early, you might even manage to sweep the floor before breakfast…determined to get work done despite your weaker constitution, you began gathering his clothes.

a few minutes pass and in the kitchen, ajax stood unmoving as he eyed the eggs in the counter. how would you like them made? he tried scouring his memories for anything that might provide him an answer only to come back with nothing. defeatedly, he placed a hand by his waist as he calls out to you.

“surprise me!” you said but how was he supposed to surprise you with something so simple such as eggs? ajax shakes his head fondly before getting to work. he ought to try at least.

laundry went easier than expected and you figured that it might be because the heavy ones needn’t be washed. however, it still has left you panting and you didn’t think you had it in you to sweep the floor. that’s up to ajax then but in exchange, you decided to water the plants. there were quite a few indoors whilst you didn’t think you’d have to worry about the ones outside. as much as you wanted to move them, they were technically street decorations that are cemented into the sidewalk.

“hey,” ajax approaches you before taking away the sprinkler from your hands, “i’ll finish up so go get some breakfast. i racked my head last night and i finally have some ideas.”

knowing it was no use to argue, you did as ordered only to part your lips at the sight. it wasn’t the food that caught you off-guard, if anything it was quite a simple breakfast spread that you’d find anywhere in the land. rather, it was the heart-shaped eggs that brought your surprise. a powerful man resorting to such cutesy antics? ajax could be cute sometimes, you think as you sat down in front of the plate to eat and a minute later, he joins you.

“so… what are these plans you’re so fond of?”

ajax pauses mid-bite before grinning mysteriously, “something… to test your flexibility?”

you freeze and for an unfounded reason too, you realize as ajax excitedly opened one of the paper bags that were supposedly a gift to his sister, tonia.

“are you planning to host a tea party?”

“ah… roleplaying?” he dares hum in thought as if innocently considering the idea, “that’s not a bad idea… i can be the mad hatter while you can be the march hare. sounds good right, bunny?”

you roll your eyes despite the nervous idle of your fingers betraying your nonchalance, “if you’re going to call me names, at least be accurate. it’s leveret.”

“so brainy… you’d like this, then.”

“a… puzzle? you want to do a puzzle with me?”

“yeah,” he pauses before meeting your gaze, “or is that not a good idea?”

“i mean… it’s fine but you always used to complain about doing puzzles with me.”

“i always refused but i figured that we’ll do it together this time.”

you blinked before your lips curved up. you liked puzzles well enough but you think you liked having fun with him more instead of just having fun. ajax must have misunderstood your expression because he was swiftly suggesting something else that was even more obscure.

“how about painting?”

“i’m not stripping.”

an appalled gasp escapes his lips but you knew it was fake. he likes being obnoxiously dramatic when he feels ‘wronged,’ “am i just some pervert in your eyes?”

“then stop making the weird comments i know you’ll make!”

“i’m offended. i can’t believe you did this to me when i stayed up all night to make you something.”

the pout on his lips was quite adorable (not like you’d ever admit that) but you managed to compose yourself from such… strange thoughts before pressing about the sudden gift.

“what did you make me?”

ajax laughs shyly before tossing something at your face. it was a knitted scarf, specifically, it was the scarf you were knitting before you fell asleep except it was finished with a blue yarn instead of the cream you used. however, the color difference wasn’t necessary to see which part was yours and which part was his.

tenderly running your finger over the loose knots, you laughed amusedly as a foreign but welcomed warmth settles on your chest, “you stole my work?”

“well— i mean… i was supposed to make you something else but i realized i’m horrible at knitting… well, for now at least, so…” he trails off before snapping to his senses, “that’s not the point! wear it and don’t get cold when you’re going out.”

you don’t think you could go out anymore, you sadly thought to yourself as you leaned into him.

“what are you doing?” ajax whispers as you loosely wrapped the scarf around him instead.

“keep it. keep practicing and give me something that’s made better.”

the soft twinkle in your eyes told him that you weren’t belittling his efforts and you weren’t. the first thing that crossed your mind when you saw the scarf was ‘oh, it’s me and ajax!’ and it was strange because it did feel like a fragment of you and him together. it’ll remind you of this beautiful moment for sure but you don’t think it’ll do you any favors. in a matter of time, all you could do is hold your memories with him close to your heart but he could still hold onto material things like this.

“why did you come all the way here? i want an honest answer this time,” you ask as you took a mug of warm water in your hands.

“i don’t want you to be sad alone,” he chuckles sadly, “or… maybe it’s me who doesn’t want to be sad alone.”

ajax crawls to your side of the couch to lay his head on your lap. instinctively, you start playing with his locks and from the reflection of the mirror, you could see the way his eyes slowly close as the soft pitter patter of the rain transformed to be his lullaby.

“you know i…” you smile despondently, “i think death is not as sad as we presume it to be. i hope you’ll come to realize that too before you let me go.”

he only nuzzles into you more as death’s call finally grows appealing at the sharp pain that bursts through your chest.

╰ taglist

@dourpeep @justsidecharacterthings @nightfloweruponahill @chichikoi @genshiningg @bloopsimpsforxiao @midnightraindropme @infinite-cats @horangheyy @zephestia @diaflower @justlynna @bookuya @milasn-uh-ok @scaraslover

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

# 0.05 - THE FIFTH WISH.

╰ ‘I wish to see the sky one last time.’ | Chapter 5 of ‘The Five Wishes You Fulfilled For Me Before I Died’ series

ㅤㅤ— join the taglist | masterpost | previous | next

PAIN WAS SHALLOW WHILST NUMBNESS GO DEEPER. thankfully it has stopped raining and the affectionate peek of the sunlight’s rays gave you at least some kind of comfort. it was not easy being bedridden nor was it easy to feel as if your body was no longer yours but that was how it felt. there was no simple way to describe how you felt at this moment but if you were to try, you’d call it something akin to having your soul stray to the corner of the room, silently watching as your weakened state reduced you to a new level of misery.

beside you was a basin filled with lukewarm water and a damp towel. it was what ajax used when he wiped the cold sweat that erupted out of you from the sheer pain of living. you ought to apologize to him for screaming and breaking him out of his state of relaxation but even speech was proving to be too hard of a chore. besides, not too soon after that, a subordinate of his came to tell him of his new assignment. ajax sobs about his departure, your loose white clothes taking all of his tears as he muttered his final goodbyes. you wished you could comfort him but you couldn’t. he smiles bitterly at your half-dead state, telling you to rest up as he places a kiss over your ring, and with that, he leaves you alone in the silence of your temporary home.

it’s even more menacing now that you could feel death’s pace picking up and in a feeble attempt of denying that this is where it all ends, you crawl towards the bathroom. a loud, muffled thud breaks the unresolved tension in the air and despite the bruises that were sure to decorate your knees later on, you don’t let on as your fragile arms braced themselves on the sink. you wonder where all your strength has gone as you focused on standing up without slipping on the cool tiled floor.

“huh? where are you— hey!” you hear paimon’s panicked scream and before long, you feel able arms support your body from fully collapsing to the ground, “you’re not supposed to be leaving your bed!”

what a sad way to go… weak, stuck in bed, and with too many eyes watching every single move you make… aether wordlessly walks you back to the bedroom but just as you left, you caught sight of your reflection but more so than that, you saw a fitting irony. the eye is the mirror of the soul, yes, but all you saw were glassy voids likened to that of a dead fish. paired with your chapped lips and abnormally ashen skin, you look dead.

“we’ll stay here with you so if you need anything, just tell us… there’s no need to force yourself.”

you sent them a defeated smile before slumping pitifully on your bed as they requested. they meant well but as they looked at you with forlorn gazes, you hoped that they’d just leave you alone.

“where are they?! let me in!”

with most of the strength remaining in your body, you cracked your eyes open just in time to see aether reprimanding someone twice his size stubbornly. you would’ve laughed if not every word you uttered sent you into a bloody coughing fit so you settled with motioning for the familiar man to enter. with paimon’s help, you were able to sit up and lean back into the headboard to appropriately greet your guest. it’s not the best look on you but it was the best you could offer.

“itto…” you winced at the pitiful croak that left you, “thought you were detained again.”

the man in question laughed, one calloused hand reaching back to scratch at his nape in a sudden burst of nervousness, “oh that? psh… it’s no biggie. i just walked out of there like nobody’s business!”

“you did what?!” paimon was an interesting companion and you couldn’t help but be grateful that she was around to voice your thoughts when you couldn’t.

“y’know… just talked to the guards which didn’t work so i waited until midnight before bam! i used my awesome oni strength to burst through the cell and bolted straight outta there!”

“dear lord…” aether sighed in his typical distressed tone as he held the bridge of his nose, “now we’re sheltering an escaped convict?”

“hey! ‘m not a convict… yet but! man, you’re close with kujou tengu right? maybe you could uh… put in a good word for me?”

the traveler frowned. was he seriously expecting him to plead for his case? absolutely not. if he had asked on any other day, he might’ve considered it but… aether’s eyes landed on you and upon feeling his gaze on your skin, you nodded with a sweet smile.

“fine but… don’t let them out of your sight…”

“no problemo! we’re gonna be right over here when you get back!”

he sends one last concerned look at the duo before he was walking out with paimon.

“what… brings you here?”

“well i— okay, i never planned on breaking out. like sure, i did it once or twice before but i wouldn’t do it if it weren’t for something important, yeah?”

thoroughly amused, you nod along as the oni rambled, waving his hands animatedly as he told you about his past experiences. it was far from an answer to your original question but you didn’t bother stopping him. hearing him talk so energetically made you feel better. whether his rambunctiousness was infectious was a question you hoped to find an answer to before the day ends.

“aw crap! i ended up trailing off again aha… yeah so… anyway i— well, it’s the talk of the town mind you because you’re all big and popular here but uh yeah… i heard about your… situation while i’m in there and i just…” itto pauses before awkwardly laughing, “i just didn’t think, and yeah i know… you think that i never do but i figured that i just had to see you right there and then so… here i am.”

you shake your head as a small laugh escapes your lips. only itto would break out of prison because of a few rumors. then again, it’s not a bad thing. his sincerity has reached you well, causing your heart to shudder lightly as you stared at his starry-eyed grin.

“what? what are you looking at?”

“you’re laughing…”

you tilt your head in confusion. was your laugh so horrible? noticing your displeasure coming to your face, itto hurriedly sputtered a reply as he wildly shook his head.

“no! no, it’s not like that! i think you’re beautiful and your laugh is beautiful too so i think you look even more beautiful when you’re laughing.”

your lips trembled at the childish innocence hidden behind his eyes. you tried to stop it, you really did, but in the end, you erupted into a loud, youthful chuckle that was a miracle in your current state.

“you are an intriguing character, itto.”

“huh? oh… uh thanks?”

itto averts his gaze to your bedside table before clumsily pouring you a glass of water. you don’t know why he’s suddenly doing that but it was certainly entertaining to see his large hands envelop the glass and almost the entirety of the pitcher.

“wait… are you getting shy on me?”

at your sudden cough, itto hurriedly handed you the glass before taking his seat, “i’m not shy! i’m the arataki itto of the arataki gang! of course, i’m intriguing! i’ve heard all about it from all kinds of people. it’s just uh… it’s kinda different when you’re saying it.”

you rose a brow, “different? how so?”

the scratchiness in your throat didn’t abate as you waited for his reply. rather, it seemed like the constant strain that came with its use made it worse. logically speaking, you should wrap up the conversation soon but… conversations were nice and it’s been a while since you had one. ever since you collapsed, everyone around you has been babying you to the point that they’ll nag at you if you did so much as speak two sentences.

“like… if you say it, it means it’s real. no questions asked. if others say it, it kinda feels like some of them only say it to play along, you feel me?”

“i’m glad that i’m a source of honesty then.”

itto beamed at you before sighing, leaning into his chair as he nonchalantly crossed his arms, “now that’s over, what do you want to do? no offense but this place’s pretty boring. what do you even do here?”

“nothing… it’s been hard to move as i want and it’s not like anyone’s making it easy for me either.”

he hums in thought and you thought that that’s where the conversation will end but then he suddenly speaks. itto is sporting his wide smile as his brows raise in his excitement. though you’ve known him for only a short time, you knew him well enough to know that it's the face that accompanies his wild, unconventional ideas.

“you didn’t answer! what do you want to do hm? tell me and i, arataki itto, will do my very best to fulfill your wish!”

“i…” your mind wanders to aether who had left with much reluctance. would he mind if you did something nice for yourself in your last moments? “i want to see the sky.”

“huh? that’s it? but you can see it all the way from here!”

“that’s not it…” you laugh under your breath but ultimately decide against explaining the meaning behind your words. with death comes wisdom but that wisdom comes at a cost. you saw no benefit in telling him all about your melancholic realizations when he should be busying himself with doing whatever he wants while he still can.

“okay…? okay! you can get on my shoulders and i’ll take you anywhere you want to see the sky!”

“shoulders? i mean… i’ve heard getting on someone’s back for this but shoulders? why?”

“you’ll be closer that way,” he grins, “to the sky, i mean.”

closer to the sky, huh… that would be nice. without realizing it, you were already placing your palm over his outstretched hand. if it was with itto, you knew you’d be safe. he was reliable in that way.

“okay! hang on tight, ya hear me?!”

you should’ve heeded his words better because, before long, he was dashing through the doors with a speed that was certainly not appropriate to use within the city.

“coming through! excuse me!”

you hid behind your palms. the rapid beating underneath your ribs left a thundering sound that echoed in and out of your ears. you haven’t felt like this in a while! the panicked calls of the elderly and the encouraging laughs of those more carefree sent you hurling towards the height of your excitement. it’s so much easier to ignore the shame that came bubbling inside you at his antics but when he gently squeezed your thighs, you find yourself grinning jovially.

“the hill’s right over there! i’m gonna go speed up a little, ‘kay?”

“itto!”

he only laughs as you squealed, significantly smaller hands compared to his bunching strands of his hair in fright. it stung a little and his pride was even wounded a little (his hair was one of his most prized possessions) but he didn’t pay that much heed. the thought he so gingerly held in his mind was the soft flesh of your thighs and the increasing awe he had stored in his heart for you.

at his speed, everything around you blurred. you can’t recognize the strangers that yelled out their concern for you nor can you smell the sweet scent of dango from the stalls. the blossom petals fall but they were more random pink circles blotting your field of sight. it was nice. the carefree spirit he carried swiftly climbed up to hold you hostage in your close proximity. leaning into him, you welcome the delightful feeling of his glee, and the light trembles in your heart.

“…and we’re here!” itto crouches so that you can get off, leaving one hand by your waist just in case you stumble, “how was your ride? great, right? of course, it’s great because arataki itto is—”

you smile tenderly, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead before he can finish his sentence, “it was great. you’re great. thank you, itto.”

a strange feeling rattles his insides and as he didn’t know any better, it felt as if he too was getting sick. tiny little somethings which he bets, and it must be told that arataki itto never loses a bet, to be a bunch of beetles crawled in the lining of his stomach. the foreign presence then caused the warmth that all too suddenly rose to fan on his cheeks. what was it called? …oh, an infection! that must be it! those cheeky, little children must’ve known that he’ll win the marble game so they laced the prized candies with something to make him lose next time!

itto grumbled about just that and albeit confused, you fondly watched as the blush on his cheeks intensified. as he rambled more and more about his strange infection, the more you realized that these reactions arose from your small affectionate comment. ah… what do you do? he’s so lovely…

“maybe try breathing? you’re starting to pant…”

“hah! your one and oni does not need to breathe! i can spit nine hundred words per minute! watch me!”

you didn’t have the heart to tell him about the headache that came from his loud excitement nor did you make any move to stop him from rapping about… well, truth be told, he seemed to be more focused on saying nine hundred words instead of saying nine hundred words that made sense together. with an entertained gleam in your eyes, you cuddled your knees closer as you watched him stumble over his words. guess he’s running out of vocabulary to muster.

“well uh, i fell short by a few words this time but what do you think?”

the wonderful look he donned proved that he was definitely fishing for compliments to boost his ego and while you typically adore pushing people off their high horse, you figured that it shouldn’t hurt to give him this moment.

your praise has made itto beam impossibly brighter. with his chest puffed out and his teeth bared for all the world to see, it’s hard to think of anything negative about the man. always so strong and always so self-sacrificial, you wonder what goes on inside his head at this very moment when you’re glum existence was a direct contrast against his.

“so how’s the sky looking?”

“i think it’s nice… after two full days of rain, it’s become,” you wheezed and you’re grateful that itto pointedly ignored your suffering as he looked at the sky with you, “it’s become so much clearer than your average day. what about you? anything you’d like to say?”

he’s no poet, that much he can admit, and when it came about the sky that’s just… there for the entirety of the time he’s been alive, there’s very little to say and reply with. awkwardly scratching the skin by his jaw, he briefly glanced at your curious form before parting his lips hesitantly.

“well uh… yeah, it’s lookin’ really blue!”

you blink. blue? involuntarily, you look up at the midday sun and the sky that hosts it. well, yes… it was indeed a vibrant blue with very few wisps of clouds here and there. unable to stop the smile from your face, you hummed in acknowledgment as you inched closer to the warmth emitted by his larger frame.

“yeah… it’s a pretty blue.”

“did i say something wrong?” itto gingerly thumbed at the tears that unknowingly fell from your eyes, “i know that i’m bad at this stuff but there’s no need to cry. i uh… do you wanna hear a joke? i betcha i can bust through your lung!”

“no, no… it’s not like that. i’m just… greatly comforted.”

“huh? you’re happy so you’re crying?”

you scrunch your face before laughing softly, “i wouldn’t go as far as saying that i’m happy. just… relieved. it’s such a pretty day and i think that it’s a… well… a nice sight to die to.”

at his silence, you tilted your head. you’re by no means an expert but the tension in his shoulders was apparent and so was the way he tightly clenched his jaw. whispering his name, itto abruptly adjusts his stature before shooting you a bright smile.

“what’s up?”

you hesitate, “i wanted to ask you if you’re okay but i guess that would be a selfish question. you’ll say that you are for my sake but i know for a fact that death will always bring pain, no matter how much you accept that it is unavoidable.”

“does it hurt you?” he finally asks after a moment’s reflection.

“i’m dying. go figure,” you laugh before solemnly resting your face on your knees, “no matter where i look, i think of the memories i hold dear — the memories i wish i can hold for much longer. if not that, i think of the memories i wish i could’ve made if i had more time. i’d love to say that i’m ready to go but i’m not ready to leave anyone and i’ll never be either.”

“you know,” you start as you pat your chest. it doesn’t ease the pain that you could only liken to being choked by something and at this point, you don’t know if it was your looming death or your emotions doing that to you, “i’m really happy that you’re here with me right now of all people.”

“huh? well, i’m glad you think that but why?” in truth, itto didn’t know why he was special. insecurity was not a good look on him. he knew that. it looks ill-fitting when matched by his proud red horns but at the same time, aether knew you longer and would comfort you with better words. that ginger-headed guy you were rumored to have been with two days ago seemed like he could help you feel better. itto might be prideful but he wasn’t ignorant to forget that you are well-loved by so many people who’d have so much more to offer than he can.

“when i found out i was dying, i began saying goodbye to the people i care about. one told me that he’d do anything to give me comfort. one told me that i’m not alone. one told me that i’d always be remembered and one told me that it’s sad to see me go. i appreciate it, really, but now that i’m here… i feel small. like when people looked at me, all they saw was someone who was dying. it’s the truth, yeah, but i was hoping they’d go easy on me and treat me as if i was still me who they could fool around with.”

“itto is… the first person to look at me, know my situation but still treat me as he would before. he’s the first person to accompany me without saying anything more and it’s the first time i really felt at ease with death.”

he hesitates before shaking his head, “i’m not… who you think i am. i feel goddamn horrible about you leaving but i just… figured that you’d hate to see pity. i know that i would hate it if i was in your shoes and someone looked at me like that.”

“and that’s enough,” you smiled, “because you didn’t look at me with pity, i was able to see the sky again.”

he’s not a complete blockhead and especially not when it came to your feelings. as soon as you uttered the word ‘sky,’ itto realized that those who cared for you must’ve unknowingly locked you up in such a gloomy place because they cared too much. how lonely must it be to stare at the blank ceiling all day with only pitch-black darkness to replace it at night? he can’t even begin to think about how he’ll feel without frowning deeply.

“this is enough, itto…” you mumble as you look at the distant city.

“what do you mean?”

“go.”

he furrows his brow, displeased, “why?”

“i want you to remember me but if you stay any longer, you’d have to remember me like this too… and worse, if we’re unlucky. you’ve done enough for me so you can go and live the rest of your life happily.”

itto doesn’t respond so you shift your gaze again only to find him glowering at you. it wasn’t scary as much as it was sad — like a dog that’s been kicked by his master. the thought made the corners of your lips quirk up.

“you said… that i did well because i accompanied you so i’ll accompany you until the very end. i’m not weak. i’ll shoulder whatever comes of this and look back at it fondly because i—” he pulls you to his chest, “i value my little butterfly too much to let something like this ruin everything i’ve known about them.”

“butterfly? where did that come from?”

“y’know ‘cause… butterflies are pretty and you’re like… seriously pretty?”

also because you were about to fly away soon, were words unsaid.

chuckling softly into his chest, the position made it very easy to hear the comforting sound of his heartbeat. it’s strong and clear like him and you find that small fact to be a source of strength and clarity for yourself as well.

“very eloquent, itto… you may have some talent for poetry with your metaphors.”

“huh? i don’t even know half of those words.”

after you laugh weakly at his exaggerated comment, you raise an arm to point at a particularly fluffy cloud, “that looks like you, itto…”

“where?” he squints, “huh... wait, i think i see it... or nah… nah, i don’t see it.”

“what do you mean?! look! it has your horns and your nice hair…”

“aha! so you think my hair’s nice!”

you shake your head at his prideful remark, “everyone thinks your hair is nice…”

“really? i mean… duh! of course, they do! but if that one looks like me then… oh! that one looks like you?”

“that… that just looks like a crumpled piece of paper…”

“no! look at the curves in the middle! it’s your adorable nose! and-and it even has your lashes!”

you snort as his comparisons become stranger and stranger. you don’t know what exactly he was seeing but he looked so happy trying to explain that you just nod along. unbeknownst to you, even the great arataki itto couldn’t see what he was seeing. he just knows that everything in the sky was now something he’ll forever associate with you and the same goes for everything he’ll ever come across. even now, he finds it very hard to not think of the last time you offered to buy him ramen when passing by a different ramen restaurant. is this how he’ll live when you go?

“i know this might ruin the mood and all but can i ask you something?”

“oh?” you tilt your head to see that his gaze was already on you, “go ahead.”

“do you have those… final will things?”

“a will? well… not really? i arranged for my funeral but that’s about it. why?”

“just thinkin’ if there’s anything i can do for you…”

was there anything you wanted? you couldn’t really think of anything or rather, you didn’t have the opportunity to think of anything. you supposed that you wanted everyone to live on and be happy but that goes without saying. the wishes you had in your mortal life were already met thanks to your close friends so there was really nothing to add to that.

the more you thought about it, the more you felt relief flood your chest. you’ve done many and you think that even if it’s not as much as others, you could go without any regrets. most of your worries lie with everyone’s well-being but that would eventually be cared for because you knew that everyone was also resilient in the face of adversity.

“just… try not to get imprisoned as much and stop trying to endanger your life by eating beans. if someone tells you something mean, defend yourself instead of always letting it go. you don’t deserve such unfair treatment.”

“you sound like grandma oni.”

you stifle another snort, “just look after yourself and i’ll be happy.”

“really? nothing special for you? no lighting up candles and stuff?”

you shake your head slowly. that wasn’t necessary. even without candles or flowers or incense, you knew that you’ll know that they’re remembering you and with that said, you’ll eventually find your way back to them.

“just look up at the sky once in a while when it’s a good day and remember that i’m looking out for you up there.”

“you’re gonna look after me?” itto laughs before fondly patting your head, “d’you think you can give me more luck when i’m playing around?”

“be on your best behavior and i’ll consider it,” you giggle as you press into him more, “it’s going to be hard work though…”

“hey! whadd’ya mean by that?!”

the whine that spills out of his lips was endearing that you end up smiling dazedly. someone his size wouldn’t be expected to act so childish and clumsy.

“remember how we first met?”

“you mean when you tried to arrest me by stooping so low?”

you weakly slap his forearm.

“okay fine…” he exaggeratedly sighed, “i knew you had no choice seeing as i’m the great and mighty oni so i forgive you. i also wouldn’t know how to defeat me without resorting to underhanded means.”

“so macho and i’d believe you if i personally didn’t see you sobbing uncontrollably for the next hour.”

this time, it was him who felt slighted, squeezing you tightly for a second in a silent payback.

“why are you suddenly bringing this up, hm?”

you giggle, turning around to squeeze his face together much to his complaints about ruining his eyeliner, “everyone really painted you like this big, buff, scary guy when you’re really just a cuddly softie…”

“‘m not soft. ‘m all big and strong.”

“my bad... my big, strong, and cuddly softie, then?”

itto nods triumphantly as if saying ‘yes. that’s so much better’ only to freeze after four seconds as your words sunk into him. yours? he pauses before the widest grin pops up on his face. though only for a short time, he really loved the sound of that.

“arataki itto!”

the both of you jolt in surprise but itto didn’t unwrap his arms. rather, his grip on you only tightened, and strangely, it comforted you. shadows were the only thing you were able to see from up the hill but before long, the figure of kujou sara appears though she didn’t look too happy. on the contrary, itto eases, and out of his lips came a loud guffaw.

“oh, man! i thought it was someone big but it’s just you! how’s it going, kujou tengu?”

“you escaped from prison, kidnapped someone who’s supposed to be on bed rest and now you ask me ‘how’s it going?’ you have some nerve, arataki itto!”

at her mention of you, itto suddenly frowns, reverting back to his protective position, “they got nothin’ to do with this. i’ll personally march back into my cell all nice and obedient later but can’t you go for now?”

“absolutely not! unhand them and let the traveler escort them back to their room this instant!”

he shakes his head indignantly, mirroring her words in what came out to be a mocking remark (even when it was not originally meant to be such), “absolutely not!”

you muffled a laugh and at the sound of it, itto grins proudly much to sara’s further annoyance. any more and she’ll snap her bow in half, you think as you eye her tight grip, “fine! let’s duel right here and now! if i win, you will stop this nonsense and comply as ordered.”

“really?!” if itto had a tail, it’d be wagging dangerously fast by now, “you’re on— wait… on second thought, never mind. let’s settle the score sometime else.”

at his rejection, all of you looked at him in surprise but he only winked in your direction. this man… you sigh in exasperation despite the weak smile that decorated your face. he didn’t need to go this far for you but you doubt that he’ll listen. his strength was comparable to how thick his skull was and while it often made everyone’s lives difficult, it was also what made him so easy to approach, surprisingly.

“are you… hearing yourself?” aether asked in bewilderment.

“uh yeah? ...yeah, i mean my ears are working fine and dandy! i’m just saying that as much as i love the idea of finally pummeling you to the ground, kujou tengu, i'm currently occupied by something more important.”

“uh… i think that’s me he’s referring to…” you awkwardly intercepted before sara, who was looking very displeased, retorts and causes another… catfight, for the lack of better words.

“i’m sure that you know that itto is a man of his word. i know that it’s a strange request to make but please let him be just this once. if he says he’ll cooperate after uh… today, then he will but if not, i’m sure that you're more than capable of sending him back there by force.”

“hey! whose side are you on?”

the hurt look on his face had you complimenting him out of nowhere. a trick that, surprisingly, worked because, in no time, itto was once again donning his usual smirk.

thankfully, aether also vouched for him when you shot him a desperate look. he should know. he’s good at reading the room.

“i— ...fine but i will only be letting you off the hook this once. if this happens again, i’ll make sure that all of inazuma knows of your defeat. again.”

itto sputters as he angrily watched sara walk off with the finesse of someone with regal roots. aether and paimon also followed after her but not without waving you goodbye and whispering ‘you lost that one’ to itto. then again, if sara wasn’t witty and in better terms, worthy, you don’t think itto would ever admit defeat to her. but he has and he has since then challenged her an insane amount of times. it’s honestly a surprise that there wasn’t an arrow between his eyes.

“so uh… where were we?”

you smile mysteriously before settling in between his legs again, back pressed to his chest as you watched the sun gaze at you with much sullenness.

“nothing in particular.”

“b-but… you were complimenting me.”

you chuckle, “do you want another compliment, then?”

at his excited nod, you slowly closed your eyes. the wind was clearer this way. was this what kazuha hears every time? it’s sending you a gentle invitation and you had half of your mind begging you to accept it. how lovely would it be to flutter freely with the wind to accompany you in a dance?

“itto is… one of the best people i’ve ever met and i’m thankful i’ve gotten the chance to meet him and that… he stayed with me until the very end…”

he doesn't know how much time has passed but it must've been a lot. the sun was setting and he always thought that this was the best part of day in inazuma. it's warm but not too warm because the night breeze has began blowing gently. not to mention, the sun's golden halo was also offered to her constituents. he couldn't help but feel bashful when his eyes find their way to you, looking peaceful with your gentle smile and closed eyes. your skin glowed even more thanks to the hour! right... sunsets in inazuma were really the most beautiful.

deciding to leave you be, he averts his eyes elsewhere. even from up the hill, itto spots two young children — siblings, he surmised — laughing as they run around. the boy held a determined stance as he eyed the blue butterfly before him.

“catch it!” the little girl says in between giggles and the boy nods before pouncing on his prey. they watch with bated breaths only to sigh defeatedly as the butterfly escapes in the small gap between his small palms.

“you’re too slow, haru!”

“you’re one to talk, hana! you just watched from behind!”

“hmph! whatever you say but… maybe butterflies aren’t meant to be caught... what if they’re meant to fly away to wherever the wind takes them?”

“huh?” haru scoffs in disbelief, “what a bunch of nonsense.”

hana pouts irritably, “i’m just saying! if pretty butterflies are meant to be held, then it’ll be easy to catch them but because only someone who’s as fast as the lightning can catch them then maybe it’s because you’re not supposed to mess with them!”

the siblings continue their banter and itto finds himself smiling as feels you slide down. gently adjusting his hold, he couldn't help but hug you closer.

“did you fall asleep?” he receives no answer even as he burrowed his face into the crown of your head. you smell nice — like honey and tea — and immediately, he finds himself relaxing despite the shivers in his spine.

butterflies are all too fleeting despite possessing an allure and charm that was destined to enamor everyone they come across. but… wasn’t it cruel for them to be so lovely only for them to fly away before anyone can appreciate them? itto’s chest aches as he remembers the gentle touch you gave him as you whispered such sweet words with a pained smile.

“i guess you have… sleep well, little butterfly.”

unknowingly, all the strength left his body sometime in between, leaving him numb save for the small tremors in his hand as he hugged you closer, tears brushing against your cheeks as he pressed a long kiss on your temple. how could you be so cold?

╰ taglist

@dourpeep @justsidecharacterthings @nightfloweruponahill @chichikoi @genshiningg @bloopsimpsforxiao @midnightraindropme @infinite-cats @horangheyy @zephestia @diaflower @justlynna @bookuya @milasn-uh-ok @scaraslover @arimally

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

[tartagliaxx]

。SINNERS AND SAINTS ALIKE BURN IN WILDFIRES

━━ PAIRING: xiao/reader

━━ GENRE: angst

━━ SUMMARY: noble intentions don't excuse crimes and judgment comes to you in the form of an amber-eyed boy who you all but worshipped. the world was cruel. you've always known. but right now, you didn't know which was the punishment: death or the beautiful hands that were dealing it. ━━ CONTAINS: death, blood, villainous acts, insanity, lots of fire, overuse of the word 'burning', other graphic descriptions

you were doomed. you just knew it.

you would crumble for this man, pierce yourself in the jagged lines of his tired soul that has been softly eroding ever since he met you. he is unshakeable — immoveable in his might but you are not. if he would not allow himself to topple over, then you would. when you cry over the stories he told you were ‘all in the past,’ you cry for him. when you tear down your walls, you tear it down for him, to tell him that it was all right to lay your heart bare and naked against the soil. when you love, you love for the value of two. it hurts twice as much but feels twice as good too. you would do everything for this man — this man who brings you comfort even in your dreams and you knew that there would be no regrets on your part.

your sentiment was not something that you solely held because you've seen it before. casually, in letting someone go because you cannot provide them the happiness they deserved. formally, in letting someone marry you off to someone you didn't love for someone you did love's sake. pathetically, in fairy tales that speak of treasures and wonders in exchange for the gaze of that person, that one person, that one, marvelous person — the one. you hated it. stories like that made love feel shallow and no, love was anything but that. love is what makes you thrive. it's what anchors you with its twisting, grotesque roots. it's what sits on your chest; a spark, a flare, a maddening blaze that scorches your lungs until all you could choke out was his name during nights where you cannot afford to sleep. it was your deep, intense love that makes you do all the seemingly absurd and stupid decisions in life and you wouldn't have it any other way. it was him who gave love and it was him whom you would burn, burn, burn for.

burning was anger; the fall to irredeemable, sickly shades of murky greens and faded gold that once shimmered under candlelit affections. burning was cities facing the wrathful temperament of someone who loved like a god. burning was you who didn’t flinch as the fires you caused dangerously flickered close to your skin. now, you were burning because they burnt him down until his lush, innocent soul was nothing but a ravaged sea of charcoal and fumes.

speaking of him, the desire to call out his name itched on your throat again but you knew better. he’s bound to be here soon — ever vigilant just as his namesake was and you were right because not even a second later, he arrives with his face hidden behind his mask. your name spills out in a familiar manner, same crescendos and decrescendos but colder now, bewildered even and the tip of his blade against your neck makes you smile because finally... finally his eyes were on you.

“lovely evening we’re having, right, xiao?”

a tremble subconsciously wrecks over his being leaving behind a trail of goosebumps like aftershocks of an intense earthquake. you were too jubilant, too innocent in tone and if he didn’t know better, he would never have assumed that you were stepping on the corpses of strangers you’ve never met.

“what were you thinking?!” the gasp that slips out of you was involuntary though not entirely unexpected because his snarl was something that exists to make demons cower in fear. ah… was that whom you’ve become now? its efficacy was something you were confused about. has the line between pleasure and fear really thinned out to be so indecipherable in your madness?

you paused before grinning, “something about you, actually.”

the spear moves closer to your jugular, exposing a trickle of blood but not quite killing you yet. you knew xiao. he was probably thinking that you were mocking him because he cannot, for the life of him, accept that there was someone out there who could love him so much that they resort to such… drastic measures.

“they hurt you xiao. every day, they hurt you. i’ve seen the way they laugh and smile while you die for them; bit by bit, until all you knew was pain. if it weren’t for them and their twisted desires, you’d be happy and safe. if it weren’t for your contract with rex lapis, you’d be free,” your brows furrow at the thought, lips twitching as if you were a mad scientist coming across a wild, perhaps morally wrong but viable theory, “if there is no one left to protect, you’d be free from your contract. you could do whatever you want, dance wherever you want. you’d like that, won’t you, xiao?”

the yaksha merely flinches as you walk forwards, fingers nimbly brushing away the strands of hair that stuck to his grime and sweat-stained skin. he doesn’t stop you, only looking at you with horror as bile slowly crept up his insides.

“you’re insane…” you shiver, not from his words but from his whisper. breath hits your lips and it was only now that you realized how close you’ve come to him.

“i know… but i think i’ll only ever be like this when it comes to you. i’ll do whatever you desire so tell me, what do you ask of me?”

gently, your hands pried the mask off his face and xiao had to fight twice as much to stop himself from lurching away in shame. the same hands stole so many lives that night and yet here they were, showering someone with affection. he knew what he has to do. he knew that he had to kill you because it was what he does. he kills monsters but that was it, wasn’t it? monsters shouldn’t be showing compassion or sympathy and in one twisted way, love. their eyes shouldn’t bleed with sadness and maybe guilt that's not quite enough for you to not make the same decision if you were to turn back time.

horror settles in his mind like dust does in a ghost town. you were wrong tonight but that doesn’t mean that you didn’t have a heart and hearts were sacred to him. he pushes people away to save their hearts and now… now he has to pierce one that he, in a cruel turn of fate, loves. what was more sickening than that?

“stop this. you’ve done enough. no, too much.”

your lashes fluttered innocently as his words sunk in and when your lips turn into a frown, xiao does the unimaginable and drops his spear back to his side. what use was it against your neck if all the strength remaining in his body was spent in gripping it until his knuckles were all white and strained?

“i can’t… i’m too far gone… there’s no use stopping now so i might as well see it through,” you step back and xiao almost took a step forward in a feeble attempt to shake you back to your senses.

“you know… i honestly thought i would never fall in love with you like this,” madly, grotesquely, insanely, “don’t think i miss that desire for me hidden in your eyes, xiao… you’re just like me so please… let’s just be mad together.”

xiao shakes his head vehemently, though his eyes bleed with the same emotions you were feeling. you were sure of that, at least, “i’m not— i would never do this. not with my own volition.”

“shame…” you smiled, turning your back on him to walk deeper into the burning city, “do what you must. i won’t stop you. before morning comes, liyue harbor would be burnt to the ground and if you decide to choose them over me, you’ll know what to do.”

he does and it should’ve been easy. his hands that were trained for war from the moment of his conception should’ve found this to be no more than a troublesome matter. heck, he has once moved to slay his own kin and he did so without hesitation so why was it difficult now? why was he clutching his heart, gasping for air as he reached out to your retreating form? why was he hesitating? why does it hurt?

it hurts. it hurts. burning hurts.

and xiao was burning in the turmoils of what he wished he didn’t have to do and what he knew he shouldn’t even be considering. what was there to consider? he loved you. he loves you. he wished he told you he loved you in a less ghastly manner.

xiao marches with a shake in his footing. with each step came a pant, a gasp, something murmured but incomprehensible. a million gazes were on his shoulders as he twirled his polearm with practiced ease — ease he once hoped you’d never have to see. everything was heavy: the air, the judgment, the responsibility, the inevitable — everything. even as he raises his weapon, his muscles strained against the weight but in the end, it was swift.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers as he pulls you closer to his body.

the yaksha never apologizes for his kills but this once, he does. however, the apology was nothing compared to the weak sobs that he tried to muffle on your shoulder, arms tightly wound around your frame because he knew that if he loosens his grip by even a little, you would be toppling over the scorched earth like a house of cards.

he doesn’t mind the disgusting warmth that spreads across his chest. he doesn’t mind the red that glinted against the sharp edges of metal. he doesn’t mind the weight of your body collapsed in his arms. likewise, you didn’t mind your looming death. this was the closest he has ever done to holding you by his own will and though it was likely to be the last time, you had no regrets if it meant you’d feel his heart race against your losing one for a minute longer.

“i have to. i have to. i’m sorry. it’s all— it’s my fault. i’m sorry,” xiao clenched his jaw before skimming his lips over the crown of your head, eyes trained to the dark skies that overlooked that century’s greatest tragedy, “i’m so, so sorry.”

“it was… my choice and now… it’s all over. i’m glad that—” you gurgled through blood-soaked gasps, “that it was you.”

xiao loved you greatly — great enough to stain his hands so you wouldn’t have to anymore, great enough to lose and bid farewell to love so someone else wouldn’t have to deliver his final goodbye, and great enough to burn, burn and burn for the rest of his godforsaken life.

“i… forgot how strong you are…” you gasped out from the searing pain. with all the strength left in your body, you moved to cup his cheek, smearing blood — your blood — in the process, “i never thought you'd actually kill me but i’m glad. you’re strong so you’ll move on from this. you’re strong so… so you’ll be able to hang on for just a little bit more…”

xiao flinches as he watched your eyes flicker from light to dark, from alive to something frightening to alive once more. you were colder now and for a second, memories of accidental touches that lingered, always so warm and unbelievably pure, crossed his mind. those days seem so far away now because now… now, the only thing that lingered was the blood pooling at his feet and the disgusting feeling of dampness that colored his shirt.

“did i hurt you? i'm sorry, i’d say that i didn’t know what i was thinking but i— i did,” he doesn’t utter a word as you coughed out even more of that disturbing crimson onto his clothes, “i love you. i really… i really love you and i think that i would never be able to let you go, not even in my next life.”

you smiled weakly, eyes mellow and more like you — like the person he held ever so highly. the string of red that spilled from your lips did little to deter your beauty, he thinks as he kneels down, bringing your weak body with him as he gingerly laid your head on his lap. he didn’t know why he did it not when he knew it wouldn’t matter anyway.

your hand was limp and he was doomed. he always knew it.

xiao wasn’t strong because if he was, tears wouldn’t blur his vision as he tugs your cold body close to his chest — warmed by the fires that continued to ravage the land, by the anger and hurt you caused, and by the blood that he spilled. he did this. he did this and he was starting to believe that pain, anger, and insanity were all the same words just as you had. the sun was starting to rise, shedding light on the desolate city, and with its entrance came a hope that someday, the atrocious events that the night brought would be forgotten entirely.

the adeptus, with all his remaining strength and with an unbelievable amount of gentleness, laid you to rest. he would have to ask the young director of the funeral parlor to give you a proper farewell and he hoped, prayed, begged that she had some semblance of mercy or pity that would make it so that she would overlook your transgressions against the entire nation for just one night. for now though, xiao, empty and lonely and lost, tosses his spear aside to brush away the soot that sullied your cold face. he sheds his gloves, a rarity enough on its own, to hold your hands that he had carefully placed by your torso. he wanted to mourn, to sob over your corpse like a deranged widower but he had no right to do so — not when he was the one who killed you and not when he can only mourn for what he had. you were never his, he made sure of that because the only other thing he was sure of was that you'll be struck by disaster if you were. ironically, disaster still befell, only xiao didn't know which poison he preferred — seeing you hurt or seeing you dead.

he doesn't know — doesn't want to either but he does know that it hurts and that the fear mortals had over death wasn't as irrational as he thought it was if this was what it felt like. weakness was something he hated but that was all he was as he stared aimlessly at the rising sun. a sick, childish part of him stubbornly refused to believe you were gone and he indulges that part of him by pointedly trying to avoid gazing at you for a second longer. it wasn't you and it would never be you because you were warm and happy and full of life and warm — maybe scalding in your final moments but the residual presence of your touch was warm and so was the feeling in his chest as he remembered your smile even when his bruised heart squeezed at the mere thought of your name.

he'd have to move forward eventually but for now, he concedes.

"you did. you hurt me more than i thought you would."

you and he were doomed. he had always known.