#tellerluna.tales

[tellerluna-stories]

episode 07: away from home and back again

CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!

TW/CW: none!

A/N: annnd welcome to the final chapter, dear readers! thank you for following this storyline to the very end :''))) I'm happy you all enjoyed thoma and mc's shenanigans, and i hope that you keep the message of this story close to your hearts <;33

Your legs flew faster than light, carrying you across the field in a flash. People stopped and stared as you rushed past, but what were they gonna do, stop you?

You ran, and ran, and ran, and ran. 

(Meanwhile, you were only one millimetre away from having a complete meltdown over… whatever had just happened. Listen, it wasn’t your fault that you had zero knowledge about how to deal with this!)

The only time you slowed down was to briefly scratch Taroumarou behind the ears, for he had been waiting outside of the gate. Hey, you still had your priorities, even when you were supposed to be running away from all of your problems.

But no matter how fast you ran, your racing thoughts swiftly caught up to you— you could no longer tell if your heart was pounding because of the complete overload of cardio or if it was thanks to Thoma and his way of words. Perhaps it was both.

‘As more than friends, in fact.’

Gritting your teeth, you ran even faster, no longer caring about where you were headed. Anywhere would do just as long as you could ignore how your heart threatened to burst out of your chest to take flight, or those ridiculously impractical butterflies that swarmed in your chest cavity like a swarm of hopeful pests. Really, just what were you they hoping for?

You slowed to a stop, the dead leaves crunching under your feet.

There you went again, running away from Thoma. Why did you always run from him? Why were you so afraid of him, of allowing him to treat you gently and cherish you so?

Overhead the branches rustled, sending scattered shafts of sunlight and falling leaves tumbling down from above— in contrast to your muddled state of mind, the world around you was serenely peaceful. And to top it all off, your legs had brought you to the crosswalk where you and Thoma had apparently first met. Talk about the irony.

“Unfair.” Crouching down next to a nearby lampost, you buried your burning face into your knees. “…So unfair.” 

When you had promised yourself to support Thoma’s decision no matter what, you had not anticipated this. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong— your armour of rationality was long-lost, leaving you to face your raw emotions alone and defenseless. The only sliver of comfort you could find was in the fact that there would be no cars using this road today, because the last thing you wanted was for the whole world to see you curled up like a disgruntled millipede beside the road.

The butterflies swarmed in your chest again, fluttering with the promise of hope; somehow you’d achieved the impossible and actually won the fifty-fifty percent chance of having your feelings returned. For some inexplicable reason, you… actually had a shot. At something. 

“It was so much easier to think rationally when I wasn’t the one going through it,” you complained to the sky. “Can I take back all of my previous complaints, please?”

The sky remained helpfully quiet— well, you supposed that that was what you got for asking for change without even considering whether or not you were prepared for it. However, it did not make the situation any less frustrating.

“I never even expected to get this far! Now what am I supposed to do?!”

Woof!

“Taroumarou, wait for me!”

Your head snapped to the direction where that all-too-familiar voice came from— oh, you just couldn’t catch a break, could you?

Briefly you contemplated your options; the first one was to continue running away. And the second was to actually face your problems like an adult.

(Just kidding! You only technically had one option, because if you ran any more you were pretty sure you would keel over and die from overexercising. Shame on you for not giving your all in P.E. class.)

“Taroumarou…” The footsteps slowed to a stop, that voice of honey-sunshine trailing off into silence. You didn’t need to see him to know what was going on.

Taking a shaky breath, you silently accepted your fate; just like that, Thoma had found you once again. 

You whirled around to meet a masterpiece straight out of the Romantic period– a work of art with golden hair gently tousled by the wind, his emerald eyes brimming with surprise. Faintly-flushed lips that had just barely managed to form your name before trailing off into reverent silence, and a school uniform in colours that matched your own.

(Somehow, the picture before you gave you a sense of deja vu.)

“I, uh– hi.”

“Hey.”

You both stood there awkwardly for a minute or two; the silence was so thick that you could’ve heard a pin drop.

(Well, except for the faint sound of whining that could be heard from behind Thoma– most likely the sound of judgement from the Boss Dog. Sorry, Taroumarou!)

“If it’s about what you overheard me say earlier, I…” He swallowed thickly, averting his eyes. “Well, it’s uh- that’s definitely not how I wanted to tell you. But if you’re uncomfortable with it—”

“No!” Your voice comes out louder than you anticipated. “I mean– no. It just…”

Oh, nothing. Just that you found out that all your unrequited pining wasn’t so unrequited after all. You, the former matchmaker who knew how to counsel any sort of relationship except your own and now had absolutely zero knowledge of how anything worked anymore because according to your predictions for yourself, something like this was statistically impossible to happen and now all of your calculations were now aflame and burning to ashes thanks to one singular puppy-boy—

Something cold and wet rolled down your face, the salty taste lingering on your tongue; with horror, you realised that you were crying. 

“Wh–” You swiped at your face hastily, trying to catch the falling tears before you embarrassed yourself any more than you already did. “Please don't misunderstand! I’m not mad at you or anything!”

“Then what’s going on with you?” Thoma pleaded. “Just tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“I…” Your voice cracked, the tears not stopping even when you willed them out of existence. Stupid tear ducts. 

The look in his eyes was so simple, so honest that it made you want to crumble right into his hands, and you hated it. Every cell in your body yearned to finally yield to what you'd been keeping under lock and key for so long— speak up, you coward! Running away will only hurt him!

“Since when?” 

He swallowed hard. “I’m not really sure, but I think… since the beginning.”

“What?” You nearly choked on the air mid-sniffle, which was not an ideal situation to find out exactly when your long-time crush had been reciprocating your feelings. “Like, when we bumped into each other in front of the classroom?”

“No, here.” Thoma chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since… ever since we met here. I didn’t realise it back then, but…”

He trailed off in silence, the rosy flush of his face speaking for him. 

If you were going to be completely honest, you gaped at him like an idiot. This guy had had a crush on you ever since he first met you – an event that you barely remembered – and he… he…

You needed to clear your head and be sincere, or else you’d really lose your mind.

“...If I'm gonna be honest, Thoma…” You say softly, every ounce of honesty pouring into your words. “I'm terrified.”

No words could describe how afraid you were; you, who no longer had any more armour or defenses to put up. Like a reckless, well-meaning dog in a china shop, all of those had been destroyed by the gentle heart of the young man before you, leaving you in complete surrender. And no words would ever capture the absolute joy running through your veins when he chose to be with you over anyone else, when he chose to care for you even when he didn't have to.

…Which was really frustrating, considering that now you actually wanted to verbalise your feelings. Just where did your gift of speech go when you needed it most?

 “I’m… really not the best with words. Or feelings. Or—”

“Hey.” Thoma interrupts you mid-sentence, raising his eyebrows in his signature ‘don't you dare start self-deprecating’ expression.

“Right. Sorry.” You cleared your throat. “I don't— I'm just…”

“... It's okay, you know.” 

His eyes softened, that bittersweet smile spreading across his face like sickness. “Like I said, I didn't want you to find out that way because I didn't want you to be pressured. You don't have to be considerate of me.”

Eh…?

Your eyes widened— what was he saying? 

“Once again, I'm sorry for tangling you up in all this,” His words sounded distant and murky, reverberating through the thick fog of your clouded mind. “Please forget about anything I said—”

Horror and panic flooded your entire mind as you realised what he was saying; no, no, no, no, wait that wasn't what you were supposed to tell him wait wait wait—!

“I don't want to!” You practically shouted at the top of your lungs and buried your face in your hands miserably, crouching down once more in dead millipede position as you cursed your terrible communication skills– why, why, why did you have to be so bad at this?! “I like you too, for crying out loud!”

Absolute silence. 

“...Thoma?”

He didn’t reply.

Several minutes passed, and still no response; you mustered your courage to peep through your fingers and nearly choked on your spit. You really, really didn’t want to laugh in this scenario, but… Thoma looked like he had just gotten hit with a shovel.

Taroumarou silently padded towards Thoma and gently tugged on his pant leg, but the puppy-boy remained unmoving. No amount of tugging or nipping would budge the golden statue no matter how hard the Boss Dog tried– but from the way he seemed too familiar with the procedure, you got a feeling that this wasn’t the first time that Taroumarou had to deal with this.

Finally, Taroumarou gave a resigned whimper and raised one of his hind legs– your eyes widened in horror as you realised what he was about to do.

“Taroumarou, don’t!”

Thoma nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sound of your voice, snapping out of his daze at a most admirable speed; the Boss Dog retreated hastily, giving a reproachful sneeze as he skittered back to a safe distance. The miserable expression on his face had you silently apologising to Taroumarou for what must’ve been the hundredth time that day. 

“Um.” Thoma blinked owlishly, a confused (and hopelessly adorable) expression on his face. “I- I didn’t mishear you, right? You said that…”

“...Yeah. I did.”

“Oh.” His eyes somehow widened even further. “Oh.”

“I- look.” You began, ruffling your hair in frustration. “I can’t word it properly, so I’ll be borrowing some of your words here. Do you remember the last time we were here and I asked you what it meant to be in- in…” 

‘Thoma, what does falling in love feel like?’

Your spit caught itself in your throat again, nearly choking you to death from the power of sheer embarrassment. What had you been thinking?!

“In…” Thoma’s voice trailed off, a rosy flush gracing his cheeks– why was he the one blushing like a young maiden here?! “Ah. I remember.”

“Right! Anyways!” Your hands flailed around nervously till they found their place on the lamp-post, your nails digging into the metal. “I- I kinda get what you were talking about now! The whole flying-but-falling, afraid but not thing…” Your voice trailed off as you accidentally made eye contact with Taroumarou, who had slowly walked up to hover behind Thoma’s ankles. 

Kill me now, said the Boss Dog’s expression. Please. Death would be more merciful than having to sit through this.

That death stare alone was enough to make you rethink every word that was about to come out of your mouth; no, you didn't want to admit that you were doing this thanks to a dog, but… he had a point.

You were hiding again, hiding behind words that Thoma had already used like the wretched coward you were, all because you were too afraid of taking the leap. But it was time for you to grow up— if he could manage being blatantly honest about his feelings (the horror!), then so could you.

Yes, you decided, squaring your shoulders and looking Thoma directly in the eye. The time had come for you to suck it up and say what you really meant.

“...Do you remember the day we became seat-mates?” You asked quietly. 

“Of course,” He replied almost immediately. “How could I possibly forget?”

In spite of yourself, a soft chuckle makes its way out of you; it only felt like yesterday in your memories, but so much time had passed between then and now.

“I still remember how confused I was to see you there,” You continued, a wry smile working its way up your lips. “Back then, I didn’t care who or what would sit beside me in class. I just wanted peace and quiet.”

You thought of how lonely and grey the world had felt when you had attained your desired empty seat, completely lacking in the warm hues that you had become accustomed to. Fiery yet gentle red, a warm sunset orange, and yellow that shone like sunlight– for someone who had experienced such vibrant hues, returning to black and grey was a torturous existence. How could you ever return to a normal life when you had already experienced it in colour?

“...Yeah, I definitely didn't get any peace and quiet after that.”

Thoma winced visibly. “Sorry.”

“Hey, don't be sorry. It was a good thing because…” You hesitated for a moment. “...I was happy.” 

You could admit as much, though that sentence alone would never be able to capture how elated you were, the dizzying joy that rushed through your entire being when you realised that someone genuinely went out of their way to spend time with you. That somebody saw you standing in the shadows and went to stand with you, slowly walking with you till you stood side-by-side in the light. 

To you, the forgotten extra, the afterthought who was only remembered when needed— there were no words that could describe how precious that feeling was.

(Man. You had fallen even harder than you originally expected. )

“Even if I’m bad at showing it, I was really happy. The times we ate lunch on the rooftop, or when we'd walk home and laugh about what happened during the day…”

Your fingers twisted in the hem of your shirt as you chuckled, shaking your head in resignation. “And that's why I didn't want to say anything about it. Because I was so happy I was afraid I'd mess it all up.”

That didn't even capture one-fourth of how terrified and confused you felt; the concept of someone finding genuine interest in you as a person was so alien to you that you tried to push it away, running as fast as you can till your legs gave out. But all the same your heart yearned and bled for the opportunity to be cherished, for something to change in your closed-off, wretched mindset, for someone to see through your armour and understand. 

“I’m scared, Thoma. It feels like I’ve been reborn, and it all started when I met you.” Your eyes prickled dangerously, warning you of the tears that threatened to spill any moment now. “Everything is so new to me, and it scares me so, so much— I’m terrified of change.”

Good job, whispered a part of your brain— and in spite of being on the verge of tears, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest slightly loosened, leaving you with your raw emotions. Your mind flowed freely, recalling so many precious memories and feelings that you had accumulated over all your time with Thoma; all were so dear to your heart that you wished you could hoard them away forever. In complacency you had hoped to preserve them in a state of eternal tranquility, but…

“...Me too, actually.”

“Hah?” You blinked owlishly, your eyes coming back into focus just in time to see Thoma flush pink. 

“I mean– uh, well, I get you there!” He sputtered furiously, rubbing the back of his neck with the same charmingly awkward air that he always had. “I really, really cherish all the time we spent together, but I didn’t know if it was the same for you, and I was– I was…” 

I was afraid, just the same as you.

For a moment you're struck with the sheer irony of it all— this all could have been very easily avoided if you had actually just communicated with each other and weren't actual boneheads when it came to subtle cues. 

Was it still too late to launch yourself directly into the sun?

“...Looks like we were in the same boat all this time, huh.”

“Yeah,” Thoma replied. “I guess so.”

That's it?! You wanted to scream at yourself. You had wasted so much time dawdling because of your fears, and now you didn't even have the energy to say anything anymore. 

Thoma didn't deserve this, no– this was why you had thought he deserved better. He shouldn't have had to carry the burden of a coward like you who couldn't even say anything when it mattered most—

“I… You should go.” You sniffed most unbecomingly, dabbing at your eyes with the stiff fabric of your uniform. “Sorry– sorry for just bursting out like this all of a sudden. It’s not like me.”

But he didn’t turn away; instead, Thoma stepped forward to the edge of the curb. The dead leaves rustled around his ankles restlessly, parting themselves to make a path for his feet. 

What on earth was he doing?

“Thoma, didn’t you hear me?”

“I know.” His emerald eyes fixed themselves solely onto you, soft yet steady— the intensity of his gaze sent heat flushing to your ears and your face in a most unwelcome manner. And then Thoma stepped even closer, blocking you from view with his body. "Sorry, I’m- I just…”

Your grip tightened on the lamp-post, instinctively trying to steady yourself for whatever he was about to say.

“I…” Thoma cleared his throat, the faintest trace of pink colouring his cheeks. “I just want to be a bit selfish, even for just a little while. I want to keep this moment for myself."

His voice is barely above a whisper, one softer than the dreams of a sleeping child, yet those words rang louder in your ears than a thousand school-bells. If — and only if — your intuition was correct, then this moment was a secret meant to be shared with only two people, one as well-kept as a hidden gem of a bakery. 

(The sudden recalling of a certain memory made you flush even hotter— was that what he had meant to imply that day?)

“Do you know how happy you’ve made me?” He asked, a gentle smile gracing his lips like no other. 

“No, not really,” You managed to force out, your voice wavering from all the tears you choked down. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Please send help.”

Behind Thoma, Taroumarou put a paw over his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to watch (well in his defense, you wouldn’t have wanted to watch this either.) But Thoma did not cringe, no— he threw back his head and laughed.

His was a light, airy laugh that sang of freedom, of joy, and of release; this was the laughter of a boy who’d been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders but was finally released from everything that had been holding him back. It was the joy of a young man who now knew that there was no need for him to hide any longer, that the truth of his heart was one reciprocated.

And then when he finished laughing, he gave you a smile that said, 'Don't worry. I'll help you, no matter how many times it'll take.'

Your hands trembled, your nails digging into your palms as you struggled to process what he just said. 

You were… messy. Inconvenient. A violent delinquent who couldn’t control your temper, someone who pushed away affection at every opportunity and ran away when confronted with your emotions. So why did he keep reaching for you? What about you made Thoma want to keep coming back?

“I’m not perfect either, you know.” Thoma smiled ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get stressed out when I can’t live up to everyone’s expectations of me, and I can’t tell when I’m allowed to say no and be myself. But I’ve learned a lot, all thanks to you.”

Why are you the one saying that to me? You’ve taken the words out of my mouth, you wanted to cry out. Unfair, unfair, unfair.

“It always feels like home when I’m with you. Studying with you, eating with you— even if it’s just walking with you, I feel like I’ve finally come home.” He continued, fiddling with the hem of his shirt nervously. “Even if I feel nervous and unsure of myself, at the same time I’ve never felt safer. And it sounds rather selfish, but… I want to be able to give you that same sanctuary.” 

The leaves fell to the ground silently, all the world quiet as if holding its breath to hear your response; Thoma shifted nervously, clearly more flustered than you’d ever seen him before.

His flush deepened. “If- if you’d let me, of course. Is it okay if I keep doing that, even when we’re old and grey?”

The tight, uncomfortable feeling in your chest suddenly released without warning, and your weary heart cried out in relief. You didn’t have to run away anymore.

You… didn’t have to run away anymore.

There was no reason for you to swallow your feelings down till they bloomed in your lungs like poisonous flowers; no, there had never been any reason for you to suffer in silence at all. You had worried for nothing when apparently he had always, always been looking at you– all this time you had been someone special to him, someone more than a funny sidekick or someone to set him up for his next character arc.

Tears ran down your face undisturbed, the warmth reminding you that this— all of this, was real. Thoma was real. 

(And there was also that obnoxious little part of your brain screaming “VICTORYYYYYYYY!!!!” at the top of its lungs, so yes, this was definitely real. You would never have daydreamt that annoying shriek up, whether deliberately or not.)

Your legs ached to run away once more— but not away from Thoma, for the first time in this entire time period of knowing him and liking him. You wanted to run towards him and be caught up in his arms – or catch him up in yours – and cry. Or laugh. Or anything would do, just as long as it was with him and him alone. You wanted to make up for all the times you ran away from his sincerity out of fear, mistaken his kindness for some ulterior motive thanks to your never-ending paranoia.

Let’s go home, whispered your prodigal heart.

 

"Wait, stay there." Your voice trembled. "You're always the one who comes to find me. This time- this time…”

I want to be the one who goes to you.

His eyes widened slightly in confusion, but the puppy-boy nodded in acknowledgement.

Taking a shaky breath, you eyed the wide stretch of asphalt that stood between you and Thoma— a divide that you had put there in the first place, but who was to say that you couldn’t remove it?

Your foot trembled as you took one faltering step forward, planting your shoe in the center of one white stripe of the crosswalk. Courage, that was all you needed.

I’m not good enough for him, said a nasty, hateful inner voice. Three steps and not a single reply, for such folly was beneath your attention.

This won’t work out, said another. You ignored it and took another two steps forward.

I don’t deserve to be loved like this. Ouch, that one hurt— four steps forward, because you were feeling petty.

He waited patiently, just as he always did; the fading sunlight danced in his eyes of emerald, dazzling your world with the light of a thousand unshed tears. For a moment you remembered an old film based on a true story, one that told of a loyal dog who also sat and waited for someone special in his life.

You’re almost home now, said the look in Thoma’s eyes. Don’t give up yet, please, please, please.

A small part of you sighed and wondered what you had become— someone who was practically wrapped around the finger (the paw?) of an insolent puppy-boy, a reserved individual whose heart melted and now yearned for someone who shone like the sun. Realistically, you could have just run away once more and avoided dealing with this.

But the reason why it was called falling in love was because it meant that the other person would catch you, knowing that you would do exactly the same for them. And you wanted to become someone who could do exactly that for Thoma.

You prayed for strength, for bravery to see this through to the end; if you wanted to be that person for Thoma, then you would need courage. No matter how many times your legs trembled on this road, no matter how many people tried to tell you this and that, you could not run away. You didn’t want to run away this time.

One step, two steps— just a little further, you told yourself. You just needed a little more courage to brave your journey to its end. 

One last step forward, and you held your breath, hardly daring to breathe as you allowed him to envelop you in warmth. A part of you still wondered if it was a dream, but that faint, familiar scent of laundry soap, the unprecedented warmth that bubbled up in your throat… you could never have dreamt that up in a thousand lifetimes.

“…I’m here, Thoma.” Your voice trembles ever so slightly.

He smiles and buries his face into the crown of your head, stroking your hair with a tenderness that you now knew was reserved only for you. “Welcome home.”

From a distance, Taroumarou watched as his subordinates embraced in a mess of tears, a satisfied almost-smile on his fluffy face. This entire ordeal had been ridiculously drawn out and could’ve been avoided if they had just communicated properly, but… the Boss Dog supposed that all was well if it ended well. You could only be a pup once, and as long as his subordinates were happy, then he was satisfied too.

[tellerluna-stories]

episode 06: the puppy-boy bites back!

CONTENTS: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. m.list!

TW/CW: mentions of violence. manipulative and entitled behaviour but from neither of the main characters.

A/N: I have returned, with eyebags aplenty and an extra chapter for the readers who didn't give up on this fic for some reason. thank u for waiting :((

“What’s on your mind?”

Thoma mirrored your pose, resting his head on top of his desk and gazing at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes; as usual, his hair flopped to the side like a pair of puppy-dog ears, giving him the appearance of a lounging golden retriever.

“Nothing much.” A smile made its way to your face in spite of yourself— the effect of a puppy-boy, no less. “Just wondering why everyone has been looking at me funny. It’s been quite a while now.”

Perhaps it was because of the bandages that still adorned your arms, or the new rumours that now surrounded you wherever you went, but you now had the reputation of a cold-hearted delinquent who ruthlessly picked fights with anyone who dared challenge you. Some whispered that you had done so to valiantly protect the honour of Thoma, but all good intentions were easily washed away in the sea of misinformation that was a school campus.

Well, you had to admit it was better to be feared than to be ridiculed, because at least people gave you a wide berth in the hallways. Now you never had to worry about getting squished to death during the rush for freshly-baked bread in the cafeteria.

“They’re jealous of you, that’s what.” He whispered back, giving you a goofy smile. “Not everyone gets to sport the cool bandage look like you do.”

“I look like I have eighth-grader syndrome.”

“Well I think it’s cool.” Thoma declared with an air of finality as he reached for your hands. “And I also think they're looking a little loose, so let me check them for you.”

You reluctantly allowed him to take your hands in his, ignoring the chills that surged down your arms as his fingers ghosted over your bandages. They were already healing nicely, so why did he insist on checking them every day?

“Just as I suspected.” Your (very clueless) puppy-nurse clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. “I did tell you not to flail around too much— if you keep doing that they’re going to come off and leave the wounds exposed.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I hold a pencil and the whole thing falls off.”

“Then just hold still and let me fix it for you. I’ll keep fixing these no matter how many times it takes.” 

Your traitorous heart jumped into your throat and nearly caused you to choke on your spit; it would be wise if someone told Thoma to not spew out such embarrassing lines out of the blue, because even the stoniest of hearts would quiver at such cheesy words. 

(But in reality, you knew that it only had this effect on you because of the person who was saying it. Stupid puppy-boy.)

“Is Thoma here?”

Said an unfamiliar voice, causing everyone’s heads to snap to its source; a stranger hovered in the doorway, obstructing the path of practically everyone who might’ve wanted to enter the classroom. She was a fairly pretty girl, with shiny, well-kept hair and sparkling eyes— if you had actually remembered to pay attention to other people, you might’ve identified her as one of the more popular students in one of the other classes.

Her shining eyes fixated on the puppy-boy beside you, who was fiddling with your bandages with an adorable frown on his face; in turn, everyone’s gazes followed suit to stare at Thoma. The weight of their gazes made you squirm.

“Psst.” You nudged him with your foot. “Someone’s looking for you.”

“I’m almost done, wait…” He only scrunched up his face even further, practically burying his face into the palms of your hands as he tucked a loose end away. You almost died right then and there.

“Thoma, I don’t think she can wait.”

Meanwhile the girl had invited herself in, slipping between the rows of desks with a natural grace; silently she made her way to where you and Thoma sat… and then she proceeded to stand there, radiating the most intimidating aura that you’d ever seen a person emit.

“Thoma.” You hissed, nudging him even harder this time. “Hurry up.”

Something sharp and intense practically bored itself into the back of your head, and you looked up to see a pair of slightly puffy eyes looking down on you; somehow, it felt like she was looking down on you in more ways than one. 

The girl rapped lightly on the top of Thoma’s desk, finally catching his attention. He looked up just in time for her to ask, “Could I speak to you after school?” 

You nearly kicked Thoma from the sheer straightforwardness of her question.

Was this the famed after-school confession that you’d only heard about? Back when you had been counseling regularly, this method of confessing was one of the most preferred by your clients due to its convenience. There was less chance of getting interrupted by class activities or watchful teachers, and behind the football field was a popular place to confess to the one you admired. 

(Hey, even if you hadn’t directly advised confessions, it was hard not to hear about all the romance-gossip that people liked to spew.)

“I- well…” Thoma’s eyes flickered briefly to meet yours, a faint shadow passing over his face.

“You don’t have to, but if you can…” The pretty girl’s voice faltered, and her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her uniform. “Please- please meet me behind the football field.”

Yep, it definitely was an after-school confession.

And on that note she left, leaving the classroom erupting in cheers as your classmates all congratulated Thoma. 

But somehow you couldn’t shake the uneasiness that hung over you like a dark cloud, weighing over your shoulders like an anchor wrapped in chains. The unpleasant look she had given you was one thing you could easily brush aside, but as for Thoma…

He fidgeted uneasily in his seat, awkwardly smiling as he received congratulations all around. Surely it wasn’t the first time he had received such a request, so why did he look so… uncomfortable? Everyone seemed approving of the situation, and even you had to admit that he looked good together with that girl.

One of your seatmates shoved Thoma by the shoulder playfully, muffled cheers of both awe and jealousy echoing in your ears like a distant dream— it was then that the realisation hit you like a bolt from the blue.

It was as if everyone expected him to automatically accept the confession of a pretty girl simply because he was 'Everyone's Thoma', a pretty face who was destined for a stellar life. A perfect girl who was perfectly suited for a perfect boy, a perfect couple who were both absolutely ideal in every way possible.

(Ah, why did those words taste so bitter in your mouth?) 

Anyway, it didn't matter whether Thoma wanted this path or not, because as long as he had the title worthy of a protagonist, everyone would be watching him… and just waiting to pounce on him once they deemed he had fallen from their good graces. He would be judged if he turned down a blessing such as this, and he would be judged if he accepted it.

“Thoma…” Subconsciously you reached out for his sleeve, but something stopped your fingers before they could— at this point, you weren’t even sure if you had the right to ask him if he was alright. 

You weren’t someone who was blind to the hierarchy of this world; in terms of social standing, you were currently at the very bottom of the food chain. Perhaps a highschool match-maker would have had better chances of being viewed as an acceptable side character to Thoma’s role as protagonist, but a delinquent, on the other hand… who were you, to drag him down with you? 

“Did you say something?” His gaze flicked to you; the way those angelic eyes lit up made you squirm with guilt. Maybe those people were right, after all. 

“Nah, it wasn’t anything important.” Your fingers curled into a tight fist, digging into your palms and leaving crescent-moon marks of shame— greedy Icarus, to reach for the heavens. You of all people did not deserve to stand with the sun, no matter how much hope kindled in your heart for such a dream. “Are you going to go see her?”

A smile worked its way up Thoma’s face, but this one was different; it was not his usual honey-sweet smile, forged from gold and sunshine eternal. This smile was of bitter resignation, the realisation that he never would truly be free from the expectations weighing down on his shoulders. You wanted to wipe that bitter smile from his face in an instant, even if you had to use your very lips to do so.

Sorry, what? said the small, intrusive part of your brain. Didn’t hear that last part clearly.

No, you told yourself firmly. This sick, unpleasant feeling that twisted in your gut like an angry snake was certainly not jealousy, and you were not going to let this or your own personal feelings get to your head and possibly ruin your friendship with Thoma. You were going to be fine and wish him the best with a smile on your face, and whatever outcome he chose, you would support him— that was what Thoma needed right now, and that was all you were going to do.

“Oy, Thoma.” Your voice cracked slightly. “Don’t… don’t let yourself be a piece of bread anymore.”

He gave you a look, and you suddenly realised what you had just said.

Was that seriously the best you could do?! You screamed internally, suppressing the urge to bash your head against the nearest wall— not even something comprehensive, like ‘I support whatever decision you make’ or ‘Follow your heart’?

Emerald-green eyes stared at you unwaveringly for one heart-beat, two heart-beats… and then the bitterness in Thoma’s smile disappeared, melting away like a bad dream as he broke into a real smile. “Again with the bread?”

Heat flooded to your face. “I- Well, in my defense—“

“Don’t worry, I understand what you’re talking about.” For the first time, you noticed the faint dimples on his cheeks as Thoma grinned even wider. “But even if I’m not bread, I’m still a snack, right?”

“…Shut it.”

Your heart throbbed painfully as he laughed, and part of you wondered if you had done the right thing. Reminding him that he had the freedom to choose was one thing, but could you really support him if he chose something that you did not like? Were you selfish enough to turn away if he didn’t choose you? The rolling, unpleasant feeling from earlier returned, simmering in the pit of your stomach as you thought of that pretty girl and her shining, disdainful eyes— oh, how you desperately hoped that you would never have to suffer through the pain of making such a choice. 

It wasn’t her fault she was pretty, nor was it your classmates fault for pairing her up with Thoma… but why did you feel this way?

You swallowed hard, devouring any feelings that might overstep the boundaries of your friendship; it wouldn’t matter if a garden flourished in your lungs from all the times you swallowed your blooming emotions. And he smiled away, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

“Well, I suppose I can’t run away from things forever.” 

He leaned back in his chair and stretched, pushing his notebooks to where you could reach them. “I’ll just be out for a minute, but I’ll be back for you.”

I’ll be back for you…?

Before you knew it, a warm, ticklish sensation landed on the top of your head— Thoma’s eyes softened as he ruffled your hair, his fingers tracing briefly against the curve of your cheek as he pulled away all too soon. You could only stare mutely as he slipped out of the classroom, taking every colour in your world with him.

Time seemed to pass slowly without Thoma by your side.

The perfect-attendance student who never skipped a single class was missing from the classroom, with no hints as to where he had gone. From the reactions of everyone else in your class, they were just as equally in the dark about the matter as you were. 

You told yourself it didn’t matter; it wasn’t like you weren’t used to being alone in the first place. You’d simply return to the same old routine as before.

But deep down you knew that it did matter to you.

Somehow your world had become muted, the colours dull and lifeless wherever you looked; everything was mechanically routine, a dull blur of ordinary life that felt so empty. Open your notebook, write down what the teacher was saying, then open your textbook to highlight the sections that were to be studied for today. Line up your pencils and pens into a straight line next to your eraser, with the ruler placed across the front of the desk like a nameplate. Your free periods were spent just as you had always wanted— in peace and quiet, and alone. 

It was as if Thoma had never existed in your life in the first place; there were no conversations brimming with laughter during free period, no passing of little notes when the teacher’s back was turned. When lunchtime came, no-one came to drag you to the rooftop and feed you home-cooked food with his own chopsticks. Was this really what your life had been like before you met Thoma?

If so, how truly miserable, you thought ruefully. By the time the last bell rang, it had already sunk in how truly alone you were without him, and you loathed yourself for feeling that way. Somewhere along the line, that puppy-boy had wormed his way into your life and now you were left with an aching heart when he wasn’t around. How wonderfully pathetic.

Your grip tightened on the straps of your backpack as you marched out of the classroom, hyper-aware of all the eyes that followed you as you left. They all probably thought you were pathetic, too.

Where was he? 

“Yo, have any of you seen where Thoma went?” One student asked loudly, intimidating everyone in the classroom with his extreme height and bright red eyeliner that was almost certainly against the dress-code. Next to him, a tall girl with dark bobbed hair tutted, smacking the top of his head with a rolled-up sheaf of papers. “Lower your voice, Crimson Idiot.”

“I didn’t ask you, Bird-brain.”

You ignored their squabbling and listened closely to the people around you, fishing for any info on where Thoma might’ve been. Seriously, how hard was it to find one puppy-boy?

“…Probably headed for behind the football field……”

“Isn’t that where people confess?”

“So that girl from earlier…”

Your gaze fixed on Thoma’s backpack, lying where he had left it. Perhaps you were just projecting, but it looked almost as lonely as you felt without him— and thus an idea sprung to mind.

Gritting your teeth, you swung what must have been at least fifty tons of overpriced educational material onto your back and stalked out of the classroom, ignoring the stares of your classmates. Get the backpack to Thoma, you chanted to yourself. Go behind the football field to see what’s really going on. But not because you were jealous or anything like that.

Find Thoma and bring him his backpack.

Go behind the football field and figure out what was happening.

FInd Thoma, because anything— anything would be better than this dull, lifeless world. Anything would be better than holding this ball of nauseating jealousy and insecurity in your stomach. For all you knew, he actually might’ve liked that girl, but- but…

You tightened your grip on his backpack straps, grounding your reality with the feeling of rough fabric against your trembling fingertips. It was time to get a move on.

Filled with a reckless bravery that was most unlike yourself, you had set off on another journey, similar to the journeys you had taken before. But this one was not a quest for delicious fresh-baked goods-- it was a quest to seek out a fair-haired prince who might or might not need rescuing.

Oh, and while lugging what must’ve been the world’s heaviest backpack in tow.

Flinging down the backpack with the last of your strength, you practically collapsed against the nearest wall and heaved for air— oxygen, sweet oxygen, don’t abandon this poor soul just yet.

You’d hauled Thoma’s bag all over the school as you checked all of the places he might’ve been, running upstairs and downstairs in search of one very elusive puppy-boy. Maybe it would’ve been wiser to just go straight to the football field and wait for him there, but there was no guarantee he was even going to be there if you had looked there first. 

(And you had ended up dragging that bag everywhere only to end up at the final destination anyway— that is, behind the football field.)

Even if it was an inanimate object, the offending backpack was not spared from the venomous glare you shot its way; you made a mental note to teach Thoma a couple of things, such as packing light for school, or the magic of digital textbooks. Maybe you’d even teach him the forbidden knowledge of free textbook websites— anything just so that he’d stop hauling around the Library of Alexandria in his backpack.

“-excuse me, but…”

The faint sound of voices brought you out of your self-induced misery, hushed tones coming from right around the corner; one the soft notes of a girl’s voice, and the other a very, very familiar way of barking– speaking. You pressed close to the wall, straining your ears to catch any words that he might be saying.

“You’re the friend of the girl who came to my classroom the other day, right?” Yep, that voice was definitely a puppy-boy’s.

Your curiosity (nosiness) got the better of you, and you dove into a nearby bush in order to camouflage your presence. You couldn’t see much with all the branches in the way, but you could at least make out Thoma standing with his back to you, a slight slouch in his posture and his hands shoved in his pockets.

…Weird.

You frowned slightly; for as long as you had known him, he had always stood with perfectly upright posture wherever he went, even to the point of nagging you about your own horrendous slouch. Now seemed like an odd time to be hypocritical.

“Ah, yes, that’s me…” Slouch or no slouch, the girl still blushed at the sight of Thoma, fanning her face with one hand. “Thank you for meeting me out here today.”

"Is what she said true— that you have feelings for me?"

Your heart caught itself in your throat; even though you absolutely hated to admit it, they looked good together. Two upright main characters in a world of their own, the perfect confession scene set up and the sidekick (yours truly) sitting in the bushes till your legs cramped over to death. And of course she’d have feelings for him, too– even you weren't immune to his charms, something which still made you want to pull your hair out every time you thought of it. 

She blushed even more and hid her face behind her hands, mumbling some response that you couldn't quite catch… but from her body language, the answer was most likely a yes. Of course it would be a yes.

“...I see.” His jaw tensed, and you suddenly noticed why he had been holding his hands in his pockets this whole time— for the entire conversation, Thoma had had his hands balled into fists.

What was going on here?

You clamped a hand over your mouth to suppress an ugly shriek— calm down, calm down, he didn’t seem to be postured to actually throw hands with some random girl. He wasn’t the type to start fights, anyway.

(All the same, you stole a guilty glance at your bandaged hands and mentally begged for forgiveness from his parents. Thoma was far too kind-hearted to actually hit someone, but still… sorry for being a bad influence on your son!)

Blissfully unaware, the girl coyly peeked through her fingers and smiled at him; it was clear that she was waiting for the “right” response to her confession, a perfect fairy-tale ending to this scene if this had been a rom-com film. But on the other hand, you weren’t so sure if Thoma was in the same genre…

His fist released slightly, the sound of a soft exhale barely audible over the background noise. “Frankly speaking, I…”

You waited with bated breath, every nerve tingling as Thoma paused to think over his next words. Your rival– er, the other girl also eagerly awaited his response, her eyes shining with anticipation through her fingers. 

“...I’m not too fond of people who twist the truth for their own convenience.” 

The blood chilled in your veins, freezing to a sudden stand-still from the sudden temperature drop.

At the same time, the smile froze onto the girl’s face. “Pardon?”

“Oh, I think that you and I both know what I’m talking about here. There have been some strange rumours flying around, and, well…” Thoma’s voice was light and easy-going once again, as if the sudden coldness had never existed in the first place. He very well could have been discussing what he had just had for lunch, or his plans for after school.

“...Well, rumours are just rumours, right?” She gave a nervous laugh, the sound of footsteps echoing against the asphalt as she stepped back. The branches rustled conspicuously as you squinted through the foliage– you couldn’t get a good view of the conversation if she kept fidgeting around and away from where you could see her. 

“I certainly agree with that statement,” He replied. “But rumours cause more problems if they’re not taken care of– why, I heard that a fight broke out recently because of a small misunderstanding.”

“Oh, my. That- that sounds awful, really…”

“It really is! What a horrible incident, too.”

Thoma shook his head ruefully, crossing his arms in a less-than-friendly manner; the girl nearly stumbled as she backed away, her smile twisting as her nerves began to show through. “Someone I hold very dear to me got hurt because of this, and the worst thing is that I can’t even find out who spread such dreadful lies.”

Was Thoma still hung up on that? You frowned– you could’ve sworn that you told him to let it be. And he was the one telling you not to be offended by things on his behalf. Hypocrite.

“I don’t take very kindly to such things, especially when it involves the safety of the people I care about.” A beat, before he continued, “You understand what I mean, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Really? I’m so glad to hear that.” A light, airy chuckle fills the air. “In that case… why did you spread those rumours?”

Silence. Fabric rustled as Thoma shifted his weight back to presumably look her in the eye. You did not want to know what sort of face he was making (okay, maybe you did. But just a little bit.)

“Ah- I think… I think you may have misunderstood something here. You may have mistaken me for someone else—”

“Oh, but I happened to hear a different story.” He seethed— no, growled would have been a more fitting description, though by some miracle Thoma still barely managed to keep a semblance of politeness. “The chemistry club, the president of the astronomy club… even the head of the student council and Ms. Minci herself. They all heard someone going around telling people about poor, innocent Thoma being manipulated by some troublemaker who kept hanging around him. Does that sound familiar, by any chance?”

Dread and ill-omen rolled off of Thoma in waves; this… was no puppy-boy, you realised.

(At this point you took a moment to pause and contemplate your life choices, because seeing him all riled up was making your heart skip in weird ways that were probably mildly concerning.)

This was a fully-grown, trained guard dog equipped with the knowledge of hunting and military training, and he was angry; the girl who stood so tall and proud only a few moments before now looked like a mouse cowering before a predator, looking for a way to run. You suddenly came to the bone-chilling realisation of how intimidating of an opponent Thoma actually was, considering the vast amount of connections he had and what sort of information — or favours — he managed to earn with the sheer power of puppy-politeness… all while he was still a student. 

It was enough for you to consider turning tail and fleeing, and you weren’t even the target of his anger— and it didn’t help that you were also pretty sure he was holding back.

(Wait, surely this couldn't be your fault, right? You had told him to let him live for himself, but then again you'd expected something like ‘Hey, please don't do that anymore, thanks’ and not… whatever this was. No amount of heart-racing could justify you being a bad influence, no matter how handsome he looked when absolutely royally pissed off.) 

“Like you said, rumours are just rumours. By themselves they don’t necessarily cause trouble, which really makes me curious…” Thoma’s voice dropped, lowering to a tone which you might’ve mistaken for almost friendly if you hadn’t known him better. “Do you mind telling me what you said to your friend that made her start a fight?”

“I… I didn’t tell her to do anything for me. She was the one who–”

“But I’m sure you knew that she would do that for you if you were really that close with her, right? If you fed her just the right information, she would go ballistic for you just because you’re her friend.” 

Silence once again, and Thoma clicked his tongue ruefully. “She might be a little hot-headed, but she’s certainly a loyal friend. You should treasure the friends you have while you still have them.”

“Thoma, please- please understand… I...” She stammered out. “I was- My friend made a mistake! She gets mixed up sometimes, it’s really not��“

“I’m really not the person you should be explaining that to.” His voice was dangerously soft. “I’m not the one who was directly affected by your actions.”

Now there was really no way for this girl to escape, now that all of her plans had been exposed– after manipulating the people around her with her words and throwing her classmate under the bus, you could only wonder: just how far was she willing to go for this? How low was she willing to sink for a stranger who she probably barely knew?

“Why do you care so much?” She spat; now she was changing tactics, going from blame-shifting to being defensive. You had to admit that in spite of the amount of secondhand embarrassment this was giving you, it was somewhat fascinating to witness such a fine example of how the human mind works when put in difficult situations— but also unfortunately for you, the secondhand embarrassment was far from over.

“Because it's not right. I…” A sigh of frustration, a rustle as Thoma reached up to rub his temples. “Look, it’s really that simple. You just need to apologise and stop doing what you’re doing right now. Can’t you see that people are suffering because of your actions?”

“Why should I? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

A tiny ladybug crawled past on a nearby branch, slowing as it drew nearer to you. It probably was wondering what was happening; it was unusual to find three strange humans here, two of whom were having a telenovela-worthy quarrel outside while the third crouched in the bushes to eavesdrop.

It gave you a questioning look, to which you responded with a shrug. Don’t look at me, I’m just the eavesdropping sidekick here.

“I was just expressing my concern for you, that’s all! I know you have a tendency to be taken advantage of—”

“You don’t know me.” Thoma’s voice became only quieter, barely above a murmur at this point. “You hardly know anything about me.”

Ooh, ouch.

Both you and the ladybug flinched on her behalf; true, she was acting weirdly entitled to him, but still… hearing that from him would sting, and not just a little bit.

(On another note, at least you knew that Thoma was definitely someone straight out of a telenovela— maybe a heartthrob-student-by-day, mafia-boss-by-night type of main character? Either way, you really should've brought popcorn for this.)

“I’m sure you’re a nice person, really… but we hardly know each other enough to warrant this sort of behaviour from you. If you were my friend or my classmate, perhaps, but…”

“So what?” She snapped. “Why does it matter who likes you? Is it so wrong for me to do that?”

“That is not what I said.”

“But why is it okay for that little friend of yours to cling to you like a leech?” A harsh, disbelieving laugh fills the air. “What, don’t tell me you have a crush on that- that—“

The girl continued laughing, but Thoma remained oddly quiet. Something twisted in your gut like a knife– she was referring to you, like it was some sort of joke that he would ever like you. A part of you wanted to agree with her.

“...Yeah, I do.” 

He paused a beat. “Why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?”

You nearly face-planted into the dirt as you clapped both hands over your mouth, just barely suppressing the unseemly shriek that you almost let out.

No, you couldn’t possibly have misheard him this time. You’d heard him loud and clear. 

“...What?”

“You heard me the first time.” His voice was clear and firm. “I wasn’t lying when I said that, so why do you look like you don’t believe me?”

“You- you’re kidding, right? Very funny, Thoma, but–” 

“I wouldn’t joke about such a thing. That’s just cruel.”

Meanwhile, you were very close to becoming the person to ever successfully shapeshift into an earthworm and bury yourself in the ground while those two were duking it out. The ladybug watched as you went through the five stages of grief in under a minute, offering its silent support in your hour of suffering– at least, you assumed it was offering its support. For all you knew, it might’ve found it enjoyable to watch your emotional turmoil for the sheer drama.

“Liar!” Her voice was sharp, the faintest hint of tears showing its edge through her words. “You just feel sorry for that loner, right? Thoma, I know you can do so much better than that—”

(In the midst of your agony, your eye twitched– oh, for goodness’ sake, this one was even more delusional than her best friend Panda-Eyes. Where had they even gotten the idea that they knew what was best for Thoma despite barely knowing him? And to top it all off, she sounded so desperately sure of herself that it made you want to melt into compost right then and there.)

“Thank you for having my best interests in mind, but I think I do a better job of deciding what’s best for me.” Thoma cut her off firmly, leaving no room for argument. 

Thick, heavy silence settled over like a dismal fog; neither party wanted to speak. Until…

“It’s not fair…” You caught a glimpse of shine as her shoes shuffled forward, her voice eerily quiet. “It’s not fair at all.”

“...Pardon?”

“What did I do?” Thoma was shoved backwards, and those shiny patent shoes continued marching towards him. “Tell me, where did I go wrong?”

“I don’t know—”

“Tell me!” The girl nearly shouted, her voice cracking and breaking down. “I was the one who cared ever since the beginning, Thoma. I was the one who took on all sorts of tasks so that you wouldn’t suffer so much. So why… why isn’t it me?”

You held your breath, hardly daring to move a muscle.

“Why is it some nobody who won’t even notice you until it’s too late?” She murmured– an unpleasant chill went down your spine when you realised she was talking about you. “I did everything, but…”

Even in the heat of your anger, there came a fleeting moment when you almost felt sorry for her in this pathetic state; from all of your counselling, you knew how difficult it was to muster the courage to stand before the person you liked. 

No, you corrected yourself. That wasn't quite right, because it wasn’t just from your counselling— you now had firsthand experience thanks to Thoma. To like someone so much that you started to behave irrationally, to leave your comfort zone and cross over into unknown territory just so you could walk their path with them— there were many beautiful, colourful memories that you had gained just from staying by his side. It was only natural that this girl would want to experience that too, even if she went about the wrong way to try and achieve it.

(Now, since when did you ever become this empathetic?)

For a moment, you wondered if you'd have done the same thing if you had been in her place; in a twisted sense, the two of you had been two sides of the same coin, both yearning for the same person in different ways. You knew nothing about who she was or what she did, but for a moment— just this moment — you pitied her. 

A loud, hiccuping sob interrupted your train of thought; the girl raised her head unsteadily, covering her face with one hand. The other hand raised itself in the air to harshly shove Thoma backwards, his shoes scraping against the ground as he tried to steady himself.

Did she just…?

That white-hot sensation from the other day reappeared, searing even brighter right behind your eyeballs and burning any semblance of pity you might’ve had for her; unconsciously, your bandaged hands curled into fists once again.

“Hey– wait just a second here.” Thoma’s voice sounded strained. “You don’t look so good. Are you–”

“Don’t touch me!” You flinched at the sharp sound of skin hitting skin, and once again he stumbled backwards. Through the leaves you could barely make out her silhouette as she raised her hand ready to strike again— and suddenly everything seared blinding white.

“Enough.”

Leaves rustled and scattered about you, the afternoon sunlight flashing in your eyes enough to leave you dazzled– in a blur, you barely registered the gaping looks of shock that met your gaze. Something warm struggled in your grasp, your nails digging into the unidentified object by instinct; apparently you had launched yourself out of the bushes and caught her hand just as it was about to hit his face, a flurry of leaves and flower petals showering around you in a horribly dramatic entrance.

Your first realisation was that you were very glad nobody else was around, or else you might’ve had the unfortunate experience of having your dramatic entrance caught on video. The second realisation was that you were very displeased with the idea that someone had actually just tried to hit Thoma— not on your watch, not now and not ever.

All the bitterness seeped into your voice and turned your words into a frigid cold. "If you have such a problem with me, then face me instead of taking it out on someone else like a coward."

Two pairs of eyes stared at you, completely stunned– Thoma could only gape at you in shock as you trudged forward to plant yourself in between him and the other party, a grumpy look on your face as you crossed your arms. Meanwhile, the offender in question stared at you with frightened, wary eyes, tears still dripping down her face like a leaking faucet.

“You…”

“Yep. It’s definitely me.” You replied, eye twitching as you desperately tried to restrain yourself from jumping her. If she was so keen on painting you as a violent delinquent, then congratulations! She was about to get her wish.

“Why– why are you here?” Thoma choked out, his jaw hanging slack as he gaped at you in shock— well, to be fair, you had literally just launched out of the shrubbery like some sort of vegan jack-in-the-box. You couldn't really blame him for staring.

“Oh, I was just passing by and saw something going on. Thought it looked like some fun violent activity that a troublemaker would enjoy.” You managed to muster the most bubblegum-flavoured, saccharine-sweet voice that your raging temper could allow, allowing yourself to give a side-eye to the girl in front of you. Look, you could only pity her so much— you could understand where she was coming from, but that didn't mean you agreed with what she was doing right now.

“You.”

She jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"What kind of head do you have screwed on your shoulders, huh?" You asked, the bitter edge of a taunt revealing itself through your words. "'I did everything for him, so only I have the right to monopolise his feelings.' It doesn't matter how Thoma feels about the matter— no, no, it's all about you and how you feel."

Sick satisfaction washed over your senses as her lower lip began to tremble once more, tears welling up in her shiny eyes— but then again, it was best to nip feelings like that in the bud. It was never good to attempt to resolve conflict by viewing the other party as your enemy, and from the beginning your goal had never been to hurt this girl.

Restrain yourself, said the slightly more rational part of your brain. Do not hold back on your honesty, but if only for Thoma’s sake, no more and no less than that.

For Thoma’s sake, you begrudgingly agreed. Even if you were reasonably pissed and just wanted to go home in peace.

“I– look.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, wondering where to even begin. “"You might not see it now, but what you’re doing is hurting him more than anyone else. Can’t you see that?" 

The girl’s eyes wavered, teary pools of resentment and anger glaring at you hard enough to bury you six feet under. You hesitated for a minute— you had so many things to say to her, so much advice to give from all your experience as a bonafide relationship counselor. But would she even receive it from you?

But once again– for Thoma’s sake and his alone, you gritted your teeth and continued anyway. If doing this would ensure him a better future where he didn’t have to worry about his boundaries, then so be it.

"Why don’t you believe him?” You ask bluntly. “Has Thoma ever given anyone in this school any reason to doubt him?”

“Never!” She shot back.  

“Then why don’t you trust him?” The back of your eyes sear white as you try to keep your cool, your grip instinctively tightening over Thoma’s hand. “The entire conversation you had just now was just you calling him a liar or trying to prove him wrong. If you like him so much, then why don’t you believe in him?”

She opened her mouth, but no response came out.

It was a tough lesson for her to learn, but putting down other people and trampling on their lives was never going to win over someone's heart. No matter how good your intentions were or how earnest your feelings were, if the recipient was not ready or willing to accept your feelings, then it would never work out.

“Trust is an important part of every relationship, but if you can’t even believe him when he clearly states his boundaries, then you’re already setting yourself up for failure.” For the first time that day, your logic returned to you as you switched to counselor mode. “If you really cared for him like you said, then you wouldn’t have to pull strings on the people around him so that he’d come to you like a dog on a leash.”

You must’ve rattled on and on as you listed down everything she did wrong, from using her friend like a pawn and throwing her under the bus, to disrespecting Thoma’s choices and treating him like a trophy instead of seeing him as a person with thoughts and feelings, to using her influence for ill-intent instead of trying to win him over with honesty and sincerity.  You kept going even though you were pretty sure her eyes had glazed ten times over and she had already cried multiple times, because one thing was certain; what this girl was doing was not out of love.

You knew this because love felt like… love was… 

Suddenly a soft warmth gently pried your clenched fist open, encircling your fingers with a sense of safety— you looked up to see Thoma mouth, ‘I’ll take it from here.’

As your gaze locked with his, everything clicked into place like a jigsaw puzzle, the picture becoming perfectly crystal-clear to your eyes.

Love is patient, and love is kind. 

Love is forgiving and welcoming, even at the times you felt dirtiest and most unlovable. It went beyond infatuation, which felt like a swarm of nervous butterflies that played push and pull with your emotions with hormone-infused strings— no, love felt safe and warm, like a fire crackling on the hearth of a home. To be loved and to love was to protect and to trust, to hope and persevere for the other person. Things that you and Thoma had already been doing for each other long before you had ever come to this conclusion.

And it scared you. 

The weight, the seriousness of it all… it terrified you to no end, because it meant that perhaps you were wrong about yourself. Perhaps you had been wrong all along and that you really were capable of experiencing love and romance— perhaps it had never been a question of if, but when.

“…Thank you for asking to meet me here today.” Thoma’s voice was quiet but serious, and the girl flinched a little at the sudden change in atmosphere. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more for you, but I hope you’ve fully grasped the situation now. Please don’t do this ever again.”

The finality of his tone was enough to get the point across.

Now stripped of her fangs, she nodded mutely, her eyes furtively glancing between the two of you— you still couldn’t entirely reconcile yourself with her actions, but at least she had the grace to accept the outcome without fuss. In the end, she was still just a girl with a broken heart.

“I… I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you. I really am.” The girl mumbled, giving a slight bow in apology. You watched as she walked away, the faint sound of her sniffling fading into the distance.

As soon as she was out of sight, his shoulders slumped; Thoma’s eyes slid wearily shut, his entire body deflating like a balloon as he practically leaned on you for support. Any traces of anger disappeared completely, slipping off his shoulders like water on a duck’s back.

He looked so… young. Vulnerable. 

With the way he was completely drained of energy after today’s events, you began to wonder if being angry was entirely out of his comfort zone– no, maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe he wasn’t used to being angry for himself.

“...Should we report her to the teachers?”

“Maybe. I don’t know anymore.” He answered, leaning only further into you. “I’m just so… tired.”

The urge to reach for him returned, even stronger than before. Your fingers twitched and burned to nestle themselves in his soft, fluffy hair, to return the comfort that he always gave to you so freely. But like the coward you were, you didn’t dare– instead, you settled for giving his hand a tentative squeeze in reassurance.

Wait, his hand?!

Let’s try to recap! shouted the overly enthusiastic part of your brain. We managed to remove the problem of your rumours and confirm that Thoma does not like that girl! And we also managed to accomplish 10,000 steps in a day AND do some weight training, just by hauling his backpack all over the school! And in a surprise accomplishment, we also managed to confirm that Thoma… 

That he… that he…

You gaped at your intertwined fingers and looked back up at him, every nerve ending short-circuiting into a miniature fireworks shower as you struggled to process what had just happened. And judging from how a certain puppy-boy’s eyes had just snapped wide open to stare at you, he had also happened to arrive at the same conclusion you did.

“How long were you hiding in there?” Thoma’s face flushed tomato-red, his green eyes filled with something like panic or— gah, you couldn’t tell anymore. How could you tell what other people were feeling if you couldn’t even figure out your own problems? “No, wait— how much did you hear?”

“Well I… I, uh–”

You took one look at his pleading, anxious puppy-dog eyes, and at that point your brain broke from the strain. And so once again, you did the only thing you knew best when it came to situations like this: you ran away.

[tellerluna-stories]

tellerluna-tunes: to find a home in your heart!

A/N: since this fic took me almost a year to write, I ended up listening to all sorts of music in the process of making it. but for some reason, the genres that fit with the vibe of this fic the most were indie music or OPM, as well as the OST of kimi ni todoke itself. hope you enjoy this lil playlist!

read the original fic here!

TITLE TRACK: kimi ni todoke by tanizawa tomifumi!

this is the theme song from the very show/manga that brought this fanfic to life!! it has a very sweet, slice-of-life vibe that makes me think of the walks that thoma and mc have going to and from school. the lyrics are very fitting for them as well~~

angel baby by troye sivan

thoma is the angel. can we all agree on that? okay but jokes aside a lot of the songs have common themes about allowing someone to care for you/ caring for someone at their most vulnerable point. so that's why this song is here !!

to the bone by pamungkas

I actually got the inspiration for the title + main theme of homecoming from this song, specifically the lyric that goes "take me home, I'm falling." if home is where the heart is, then where do you think thoma and mc's homes lie?

habang buhay by zack tabudlo

some OPM for the soul, (and totally not bc of conyo thoma HAHAHA). i don't have enough room to recommend all the zack tabudlo songs I listened to for this fic, but this one in particular suits the dreamy, lovestruck vibes that the two idiots (affectionate) have for each other.

labyrinth by taylor swift

this song is meant for the mc, whose fear of emotional vulnerability is constantly challenged by thoma's warmth and kindness. unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for them, puppy-boys will still wriggle their way into your heart, whether you are ready or not.

unconditionally by katy perry

I think that the lyrics fit how thoma and mc accept each other's hidden sides as part of themselves without judgement, and are willing to go to extreme lengths to take care of each other even if it meant going against their usual behaviour (e.g. the non-confrontational mc punching someone's lights out for their puppy-boy and thoma exhibiting mafia boss behaviour when mc was in trouble.) slay tbh

paper rings by taylor swift

a happy, summery song for these goofballs!! it makes me think of their rooftop picnics at lunchtime and study sessions <3 also they would definitely marry each other with paper rings change my mind

golden hour by jvke

the theme song that plays when thoma smiles his dentist-approved smile JKJK,, I feel like this song captures how it feels when either of the two look at each other!! especially when thoma met mc at the crosswalk for the first time; that scene in particular was inspired by the concept of 'koi no yokan'.

captivated by iv of spades

this works for both people but I particularly imagine it as a song from thoma to mc, who is often misunderstood or forgotten by their peers. they are so sweet and I always felt like I was thirdwheeling them when I was writing HUHUHUU

pasilyo by sunkissed lola

now THIS is the song that I imagined would play in the final scene at the crosswalk, right before mc and thoma reunite. with an empty road for an aisle, the setting sun and falling leaves for lighting and decoration... *coughs* it seems like foreshadowing for their wedding, don't you think?

[tellerluna-stories]

veneration.

PAIRING: scaramouche x reader

GENRE: canon-compliant. belligerent romantic tension, flirting but not quite flirting, the trope of helping the other get ready for an important event.

TW/CW: slight spoilers for 3.2 archon quest (although it was literally revealed in the livestream so idk if it counts as spoilers).

A/N: boo, I'm alive (sort of.) I can't believe I'm writing for emo pinocchio, much less simping for him (yes, @x-zho and @byeol-ssi you read that correctly),,,, but HEY IF THIS DRABBLE GETS ME OUTTA BURNOUT DEPRESSION Y NAT COCONUT

"How fares your one follower, Lord Harbinger?"

The Balladeer pauses in the middle of what he's doing, a tangle of energy tubes falling around his ankles like an undignified noodle dish. Your voice is carefully, perfectly even, your eyes steadily fixed on your book as if nothing was the matter.

"Haypasia? Well, she's the first of many to come, so of course she is someone of great prestige in my eyes."

He enjoys the faint flicker in your eyes, choking back a taunting smile as your grip tightens on your book. To say that he held affection for you would be staunchly denied, but there was nothing Scaramouche delighted in more than to wear your nerves out.

"As she should be. Never forget the service she has done you, sir."

"And what of the service you owe me?" He retorts. "I don't recall summoning you here just so you could sit and recite pretty words to me while I do all the work."

An exasperated sigh and a slight rustle as you get up from your chair, followed by the echoing sound of your footsteps as you began climbing the stairs to the head of his soon-to-be divine vessel. "I had assumed that you wouldn't want my assistance until I was called for."

"I'm sure Haypasia would have willingly volunteered to assist me." Scaramouche remarks idly, tracing a finger along the polished metal. "When it comes to loyalty to me, I'm sure that that girl is second to none."

Silence, just as expected. Your face is pristinely neutral when you reach the top of the stairs and place the book on the floor, but he knows better; he knows how the blood surges in your veins in not-quite-jealousy, how the air catches in your throat at the thought of someone being better devoted to him.

Up until now, the Balladeer had had a hard time finding an edge over your nonchalant nature, with any sharp jabs left blithely ignored or rebutted, with no room for nonsense— for out of all the people who dared test their bravery by working with him, you were one of the few who had remained mostly unaffected by his short temper.

But with a certain researcher in the equation, it seems that he had a new — and most entertaining — way to push your buttons.

"You shouldn't have tangled up the tethers like this, sir." You kneel down to untangle the mess of cables at his already-tethered feet, your hair falling forward to conceal your face. "The Doctor would not be pleased if something were to malfunction tomorrow due to something as minor as this."

He stands stock-still as your hands trace along the length of his arm, searching for where to attach the cables to his wrists and shoulders, your fingertips brushing against his back as you check for any loosened tethers; to an outsider, it would seem that you were merely performing the duties of a faithful assistant. But every move and word was choreographed, designed to bring out your true intentions under the guise of professionalism.

"Tell me," The Balladeer asks, a taunting lilt to his voice. "What sort of book are you reading that distracts you from my glory?"

"Just something I picked up in the Grand Bazaar." You reply, and soft hands brush against the sides of his neck, reaching to safely tether him to his vessel. "A book of short essays and poetry, written by some obscure but well-read author."

"What sort of poetry?" Scaramouche keeps his gaze locked on yours, pretending to be unaffected by the way your arms enclosed the air around him, the close proximity between the two of you. The fun part of the game was to never reveal your hand of cards, after all.

"The usual; some about life, or loss. The seasons, and some about places the author had been to." Your eyes briefly flicker to meet his. "Love poems, too."

He cannot help but smirk, knowing full well at what you were playing at; the two of you had an unspoken agreement, a mutual push and pull as you aimed to tear each other's heartstrings out and have the other dancing in the palm of their hand. "Care to recite one, then? I'd like to see if you can actually spew pleasant words for once."

"If that is what the Lord Harbinger wishes," was your response, your gaze drifting away to focus on adjusting the tethers on his hands and wrists one last time. "There is one piece that I particularly enjoy; allow me to retrieve my book so that I may read that to you."

You were clever— he had to admit as much. This very well could have been your plan all along, to grab his attention with a book that you were certain would make an impression on him; he would not put it past you to have made such a bold plan.

But since the Balladeer was soon to achieve his lifelong goal, he was feeling generous tonight— he would indulge your little schemes for today, just this once.

"Ah, here it is." You straighten up, the pages rustling as you flip to the correct page. "This essay is rather long, but this particular excerpt is my favourite."

Scaramouche watches as you begin to pace back and forth aimlessly, your lips parting to take a deep breath in preparation... and he waits. He waits for the next move in the chess game, for his turn to come.

"Look up to the stars, and remember the light in my eyes." One finger traces idly along the page, your eyes following it intently as if to bore a hole through the paper. "Look to the east, the rosy dawn, and think of my lips, sweetened with the honey of memories with you."

"But furthermore, evermore, I beg of you, my darling..." Your feet shift to wander towards him, stepping closer and closer till you were only a few paces away from where he stood.

"...Look at me and only me forevermore." You recited, tilting his head upwards with the edge of your book, your warm breath fanning his cheeks as you leaned ever-closer. "Are these the sort of words you'd like to hear from me, Lord Harbinger?"

"Hah." A chuckle escapes his mouth before he can stop himself— really, truly, this was all too entertaining! "That all depends on what I am to you."

"What I am to you is the same as what you are to me." For the first time that evening you smiled, a mirror of the same smile he had now; the air of both challenge and taunt hidden behind the guise of a pleasant expression. "I wish you good luck on your promotion tomorrow, Lord Harbinger."

[tellerluna-stories]

SAY SOMETHING STUPID (LIKE I LOVE YOU)

PAIRING: kaeya x reader

GENRE: fluff/crack, comedy. established relationship + modern AU!

TW/CW: intoxication and mentions of alcohol consumption, reader is a total featherweight. probably OOC. may contain secondhand embarassment for people who do not wish to remember the embarassing shenanigans they pulled when wasted

A/N: shoutout to everyone's favourite sunny-bunny @x-zho, who gave me the brilliant idea for this fic and is also the biggest!!!! kaeya kisser I know!!!!!!!! if you are ten and you are reading this, all I can say is.... ehe

also I'm trying a new format for fic titles so bear with me,,,, lmk which one looks better, the old font or the current style!

"You know, normally this situation is reversed," Kaeya calls out, but you appear to not have heard him. Well, given the state of your flushed face and the strong smell of alcohol that pervaded the air about you, he'd be surprised if you had understood him at all.

A soft, slightly off-key tune fills the chilly night air, hummed by none other than his truly— your legs swing busily as you perch on the edge of a nearby bench, mesmerised by the light of the street-lamp like you were some sort of oversized bug. Your face lights up as soon as he draws near, and one hand shoots up in the air to flail wildly (was that meant to be waving hello?)

Before he knows what's happening, something speeds over and hops all around him like a rabbit— it seems that you're only too happy to see Kaeya, inebriated as you are.

"Kae-ya! Kaeya, Kae-ya, 'ya..." Your voice is more high-pitched than normal, trailing off as you clap your hands merrily to the tempo of your little song. "Can I call you 'yaya? Is cute....."

Kaeya — or 'Yaya', as he has now been dubbed — stifles his laughter long enough for him to lead you back to the bench. "I think it's safe to assume you're a total lightweight."

Your arm looped in his (and your weight leaned entirely against him), you scrunch up your nose in annoyance. "Am not."

"Are too. You, little rabbit, are completely wasted."

"-'m not drunk." Your nose crinkles up even further and twitches like a bunny's. "And- and I'm not a light... a light....."

"...A lightweight?"

"Mm!" Now that your missing word had been found, you practically grin from ear-to-ear and flop over into his lap. "I'm not a light waiter."

(The four shot-glasses of heavily-diluted alcohol that you had downed begged to differ, sadly.)

Kaeya sucks in his breath between his teeth — don't laugh, Alberich, don't laugh — and decides that the best course of action is to stroke your hair; to calm you down, of course (though it's more for his own sanity than yours). On any other occasion he would have liked to retire and melt over you in private, but today he had the responsibility and privilege of taking care of you.

"Pretty, pretty eyes..." You interrupt Kaeya's train of thought with a soft murmur, reverently tracing your fingers along his face like he was a priceless work of art. "Starry, blueberry eyes— 'yaya's eyes are the prettiest in the world."

If Kaeya hadn't already been struggling enough before, everything now became ten times more difficult.

"You're really being unfair here." A small laugh escapes his lips, and Kaeya takes your face in his hands to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'll bring you some soup and hangover medicine tomorrow, alright? You're going to need it."

You nod enthusiastically, your rosy cheeks only heating up further in the palms of his hands— any hotter, and he was pretty sure you'd be melting into a puddle. Though it wouldn't be so bad if it meant that you melted into his arms.

"Am I pretty too, 'yaya?"

"Oh, but of course."

"Hehe." You beam infectiously, wriggling in delight like an overjoyed worm— heaven help him, he could only hold back his laughter for so long. "Okaaaaay... I believe you."

A glimmering of an idea springs to mind, and Kaeya brings out his cellphone in order to execute his master plan. "We should take a picture. Pretty people should take pretty pictures together."

"A pic-tuuuure....."

He tactfully resists the urge to have a breakdown from your adorable behaviour as you readily comply with his wishes, throwing up a couple of peace signs and posing for what was about to become his new phone wallpaper to show you tomorrow— surely, there was no luckier man on this earth than Kaeya Alberich himself.

He makes sure to take at least fifty more pictures, just in case. No harm in having more blackmail to tease you about.

"Yay!" You applaud enthusiastically once the impromptu photoshoot is finished, flopping back into Kaeya's lap with the stability of unsettled gelatin. "I have a pic-tuuuure with 'yaya!"

And there were those innocent eyes again, gazing up at him with such adoration that it made Kaeya's cheeks burn; yes, getting to capture this moment would be well worth whatever future scoldings he would receive from you.

"Silly rabbit," he remarks aloud, ruffling your hair affectionately.

"Not a rabbit...." You mumble softly.

"Really? I thought you looked just like one. See, here's one ear..." He tugs one tuft of your hair upwards to vaguely resemble a floppy ear, and then does the same for the other side. "And here's the other."

"If 'yaya says so, then it must be true..." By this time your eyelids had already fluttered shut, soothed by the soft motion as he stroked your hair. "But what're you, if... if...... I'm a bunny rabbit?"

"How about the big, bad wolf? One who loves teasing cute bunnies when they're all sleepy?"

You open your eyes suddenly, a sulky look on your face. "Do you know any other bunnies to tease...?"

Whoops, wrong move.

"No, no," Kaeya hastily backtracks. "This wolf only needs one bunny in his life. Wolves mate for life."

"Good..." You huff and yank the edge of his overcoat over your face. "You don't need any more."

Suddenly you jolt upright, your arms finding their place around his neck in a tight hug. Kaeya freezes for a moment, his breath catching in his lungs as his life flashes before his eyes— but thankfully, you were not in the right state of mind to give him a headlock.

Slowly, hesitantly, he returns your embrace.

"My 'yaya," You mumble softly, snuggling your face further into the crook of his neck.

"Yes," he agrees, smiling softly. "All yours."

You were probably going to kill him or die of embarassment once you sobered up, but well... Kaeya would enjoy the moment while it lasted.

[tellerluna-stories]

intertwined fates.

'please,' you silently pray, fingers interlaced tightly over the precious thing cradled in your hands.

one last wish remains in your palm, your last hope that your fate will intertwine with the one you've been waiting for. you'd waited so long for this day— too long, almost.

hands trembling, you raise the sparkling wish to the night sky and gently blow on it, watching it disintegrate into shimmering dust as the wind carries your hopes to the far corners of the land. in the distance a falling star falls from the heavens in response to your summons— your breath catches in your lungs as you try to make out what colour it is.

blue.

pink.

gold—?

your heart leaps into your throat as hope begins to swell; this had to be it. after all your hard work, it was impossible for it not to be—

the gold comet draws nearer and nearer, finally landing in front of you with a delicate poof! of dust. the light is too bright for you to see his facial features properly, but your lips curve into a smile anyway— you'd know that silhouette anywhere.

"I've finally come home," albedo says simply, a slight smile on his face. you can't help but break out into a full grin and cup your hands over your mouth, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes.

"welcome home, albedo."

[tellerluna-stories]

OK SOOOOOOOO I just wrote this on a whim because I made this post on my other blog and couldn't get the idea outta my head. will I write more of this in the future? WHO KNOWS,,, I haven't been able to write much because I have to write academic stuff (booooo) instead of writing fanfics (YAYYYYY)

anyway here, I hope u enjoy whatever this is!! my april fools prank on u guys is to post this and then forget abt it,, jkjk I might actually complete this if I feel like it (please read the other post for context first!)

"May I present to you our Lord Harbinger, Tartaglia, the eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers."

The creaking of leather boots is heard as a man strides forward confidently; his hair gleams auburn in the sunlight, and his mouth is twisted into a mischievous grin. A familiar look gleams in his blue eyes, twinkling with mirth— until their gaze sets upon you.

Suddenly you are six, your finger locked into a pinky promise with a boy no younger than you. A paper pinwheel is clutched in his other hand, pristine in condition despite the grubbiness of his tiny fingers.

"I, ____, pinky-promise to marry my beeeeeest friend... when I grow up," The boy chirps happily, mouth stretched into a gap-toothed grin. "Till deaf-"

"Till death, dummy." You lightly chop the top of his head with your hand, giggles bubbling up in your throat like a freshwater spring. "It's supposed to be 'till death do us part'."

"That's what I said, you meanie!"

"Suuuuuuure..."

"Lemme finish, okay?!" Your friend clears his throat pompously, preparing for a grand speech. "I, ___, pinky-promise to marry my best friend when we grow up. Till death do us part." He grins smugly, clearly proud of himself.

You open your mouth to reply, ready to seal your promise with the appropriate nursery rhyme, but then reality hits once more— the young man before you steps closer, a pained look in his eyes.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't an old friend of mine!" His voice is cheerfully hollow, echoing in the square of Monstadt like the chime of a church-bell. "It's been a while since we've seen each other, comrade."

Your fellow knights eye your reaction, their hands stealthily creeping up to where their weapons were sheathed. You can feel Diluc's crimson gaze boring into the back of your head, asking you questions that you wish would remain forever unanswered.

"So it seems we meet again," you force through gritted teeth, your tone tasting sickeningly cordial in your mouth. "What a coincidence, Lord Harbinger."

"It's a small world, indeed!" He slings his arm over your shoulders, seemingly unaware of the way your comrades-in-arms stiffen. "So this is what you've been up to when you left Snezhnaya to travel. I must say, it's quite a nice gig you've landed yourself here."

"I suppose so, Master Tartaglia."

"Oh, don't call me that! We go way back, after all." His gaze flicks to you, unreadable and unpredictable as ever. "You may call me Ajax, just like you did before."

You inhale sharply, hands trembling at your sides— was it fear? anger? Heartbreak, though you'd sworn to yourself that you'd never allow yourself to shed tears for this man again? Everything is spinning, reeling, and the only thing keeping you upright is the fact that Ajax is there to support you.

From a distance, Diluc stands and observes the exchange with cold, aloof eyes. He is not angry at you, no; but the source of his displeasure comes from the Fatui Harbinger who clings to you like a drowning man— a man who is the enemy of Monstadt, no less.

[tellerluna-stories]

to wish upon a lantern

PAIRING: zhongli x adeptus! reader

GENRE: fluffy w very light angst~ contains mutual pining and oblivious idiots in love.

SUMMARY: and there was only one Xiao Lantern.

TW/CW: n/a.

A/N: am I the only one who thinks this song sounds like Zhongli’s singing it? because it really does and I can’t get this idea out of my head. also it probably is a bit messy since I stayed up till 3am writing this drabble BUT NO BETA HERE WE DIE LIKE MEN

“How do you find the Lantern Rite, o god of contracts?”

At your teasing words, the man walking by your side chuckles slightly, his ponytail swinging slightly from the movement. “I know not who you speak of, dear friend. I am merely a consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor who wishes to earn an honest living for himself, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Certainly a noble wish to have.” You agree as you lean against the railing, suppressing a shiver as the cold harbor breeze bites through your clothes— you really ought to have brought a warmer coat. “But is that really the wish you want to write on your lantern, Zhongli?”

His amber eyes glow softly as he looks at the Xiao Lantern in his hands— looking at its intricate framework put together by his hands and the delicate watercolour patterns that were painstakingly painted on by yours, one would never be able to guess that it had been a last-minute job.

“Hm... I suppose that it is too ordinary a wish for a lantern such as this.” Zhongli steps closer to you, watching the way your eyes wander over Liyue Harbor, flitting from the floating lanterns to the festivities to finally stop on the immense replica of Skybracer in the center of the harbor. An unruly lock of hair strayed from its place behind your ear, and instinctively he reaches out to tuck it back into place.

“No, actually— achoo!” You sniffle a bit. “I think that as long as it is a wish that you truly want to come true, then it will always be worthy enough for this lantern.”

“But it isn’t exactly fair to both parties that only I write my wish, since we made this together.”

“It’s alright, I can just make another one!”

“I am the god of contracts, dear friend. To have a contract so unbalanced in favour of one party would be an insult to my work ethics.”

“Oh, so now you’re the god of contracts?”

“I never said I wasn’t, I merely said I knew not who he was. Rex Lapis may be the god of contracts, but I am Zhongli, and the two of us happen to be very different people who lead very different lives.” Zhongli tilts his head back, a wry smile on his face and an unreadable twinkle in his eye.

Somehow even if the wind is cold, a strange and unfamiliar warmth blooms in your chest, like a peach blossom in spring. But before the strange warmth could reach your face, you turn away and scoff.

“Tch. Are you willing to accept a compromise— a revision of the contract, if you will?”

“Mm...” He puts his hand to his chin, pretending to mull the idea over. “Perhaps, if I deem it fair and favourable to all parties involved.”

“How about we both write our wishes on the lantern? That way, it saves us the trouble of making another and resolves the issue of only one person writing their wish.” Seeing the perturbed look on Zhongli’s face, you hastily add, “We can write on opposite sides, if your wish is a more personal one. And I promise I won’t peek.”

“Done. The contract has been set in stone.” He holds out the Xiao Lantern, the light emanating from its plaustrite core pulsing gently. “You may go first, if you please.”

“Why me?”

“The one to propose the revision ought to be the one to first carry it out, don’t you think?”

“Ugh, fine—“

You roll your eyes lightheartedly as you take the lantern, setting off to find a flat surface so you could write your wish on it without fear of shaky hands or smudging the ink. “I’ll be back, Lord of Geo.”

“Wait— before you go.”

Zhongli unbuttons his coat and swings it over your shoulders, the heavy fabric practically drowning you in the sweet, old-fashioned scent of his perfume. “I’ve seen you shivering since we arrived, dear friend. Now, off you go.”

Before you can even stutter some sort of reply, he’s turned you around and sent you on your way with a gentle push on the small of your back.

Zhongli watches as you stumble off into the crowd and doesn’t look away till your form disappears among the bustling people.

A part of him yearns to follow you and take your hand, running through the streets of Liyue like a couple of children with no cares in the world. How many centuries had it been since he felt so alive?

He sighs and turns his gaze to the moon— the same moon that the two of you had watched rise and set over Liyue throughout all these years. So much time spent together, with you being the only friend he had left— and Zhongli still couldn’t even muster the courage to tell you the full truth. How he dreamed of a home far away from duty, perhaps hidden in the mountains he formed or on some distant shore; it mattered not whether it was a grand mansion or humble cottage, just as long as you were there by his side. How he longed to drop the ‘friend’ of ‘dear friend’ and even be so bold as to put a ‘my’ before it.

These were the wishes of the man, Zhongli— not Rex Lapis, nor even Morax. Just the man who he was now, the human he was supposed to be.

“Just as promised, I have returned!”

Your shoes clatter noisily on the pavement, Zhongli’s coat billowing out behind you like the wings of a swallow. “Here is the lantern, as promised.” You present the newly-inked Xiao Lantern to him with a flourish, then narrow your eyes skeptically. “You’d better not look at my wish, or I’ll have your head.”

“How can one be centuries old and still be so petty as that?” He remarks dryly. “Do you know to whom you speak?”

“I’m just saying—!” You turn away with a huff. “It is my duty to ensure that all parties follow through with their end of the bargain, as a certain someone appointed me to do so. Now hurry up and write your wish— here, you can use this.”

He takes the brush pen from your trembling fingers, noting the gentle warmth that spread through his hands when they brushed against yours.

A wish, eh?

Zhongli thinks of all the wishes he had made for the sake of others— for his fallen friends and comrades, that they finally found peace and respite from all the fighting they endured. For Liyue, that it would build itself into an unbreakable city that would flourish and thrive in spite of hardship, and for his people, that they would become a people that would be able to change the world in a way that would better it.

But those wishes were the wishes of Rex Lapis, and the people of Liyue no longer needed him.

And so for the first time in centuries, Zhongli wrote a wish that was solely his, one that was not born out of responsibility or need. Perhaps it was a little bit selfish, even, but it was something that he knew he truly wanted to come true.

“Done already?”

Zhongli nods in satisfaction, placing the brush pen in your outstretched palm. “I think I’ve chosen a wish that is worthy. And,” he adds as an afterthought, “I did not look at yours. If you were going to ask.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Ah, well.” Zhongli offers his arm to you, as the years of proper etiquette had drilled into him. “Shall we find a suitable place to release this, my dear— friend?”

Your heart stutters slightly at the pause between his words, and the strange warmth from earlier returns.

“I-I suppose we shall, then.” Taking his arm, you swallow the nervous fluttery feeling in your chest and smile brightly. “Lead the way, Zhongli.”

————————————————————

“Lantern Rite is fun for the most part, unless you’re a Millelith.” A young man complained to his coworker— judging from the pristine state of his armor and halberd, he was one of the newer recruits of the Millelith. “Why do we have to be stuck on clean-up duty? Xiao Lanterns are a pain to track down, and they get stuck in the most absurd of places.”

His companion rolled his eyes as he crouched down, inspecting the bushes for any stray lanterns that may have hidden themselves there. “If you hate this job so much, then why’d you sign up for it in the first place, you ninny?”

“Oh because I’m an honourable citizen of Liyue— what do you think? My father forced me to because he thinks painting isn’t a job. Honestly, painting supplies are cheaper than weapons and armor, so why is it a problem with him—”

Ignoring the stream of complaints, his companion knelt as he peered into the bushes. He was almost certain he had seen something here—

“Gotcha!”

He pulled out a Xiao Lantern from the underbrush and held it up triumphantly. Though Lantern Rite had ended a few days ago, the core of the lantern still glowed faintly. Upon further inspection, the structure of the lantern was more complex than the simpler designs the ordinary folk preferred, and the delicate brushstrokes of carefully chosen colour had to be the work of an artisan, at the very least.

But who?

The young man turned the lantern in his hands; maybe there was a signature somewhere—?

No signature, but instead there was something written on the side; the penmanship was neat and careful, almost as if the writer was writing a business contract instead of a wish on a lantern.

‘My wish is that I will be able to gather the courage to honestly say my feelings, after all these years together.’

And on the other side it read:

‘My wish this year is that I’ll be able to stay by his side forever, no matter what happens.’

[tellerluna-stories]

irregular.

description: idol! au headcanons of the armed detective agency boys, inspired by kpop idols and the genshin idol aus that live in my head rent free

characters included: kunikida, dazai, ranpo, tanizaki, atsushi, and kenji

[a/n: this is what happens a. I cannot escape the kpop stan blood in my veins and b. my brain is overloaded with too much 4nemo/DCKZ fanart. when I was editing atsushi's part, filter by jimin came on shuffle and I nearly disintegrated on the spot bUT OTHER THAN THAT IM A-OK I AM FINE AHAHA noimnotfinesendhelppls]

irregular is an up-and-coming boygroup under ADA Entertainment— with a strong stage presence and unique sound, irregular is quickly taking the net by storm (an irregular occurrence, get it?). but first, let us get to know more about this group and its members, and how they’ve climbed up to where they are now.

kunikida doppo:

with a dashing stage presence and cool aura, kunikida is the leader of irregular. his aloof, intimidating exterior is only limited to his stage presence, however; he’s actually quite a worrywart and nags his fellow members to eat their meals properly and has their schedule memorized to the letter. fans have dubbed him the dad of the group, and with good reason; whenever the group goes anywhere, kunikida always looks like he’s a father of five bringing his children to school.

he is also quite gullible, often falling victim to dazai’s pranks (yes, dazai has DN’ed him) and missing jokes that were fairly obvious in the first place. nevertheless, kunikida works hard to excel in every aspect of being an idol; whether it’s rapping, dancing, singing, making speeches at award shows, taking care of his members or showing appreciation to their fans— he truly gives it his all, no matter how difficult it is. (although he seems to struggle a lot with acting cute or doing fanservice; he always ends up too flustered to do anything)

dazai osamu:

the face of the group and the one whose fans have gained a reputation within the fandom for being incredibly wild (“watch out for the ones wearing a dazai hoodie, folks”), dazai is a main vocalist who will capture your attention and wreck your bias list, whether you’re a fan of the group or not. whether it’s with his good looks or his bewitching vocals, he has an aura that makes you want to gravitate towards him and stay with him. duality is what you think of when you see him— this man can shift from being all adorable smiles to his signature smirk quicker than lightning. this is only highlighted even further when he performs with his collaborative sub-unit, double black.

admittedly, most people are initially attracted to his good looks and sensual stage presence; but after seeing the goofy, childish side of his personality, they all shift from slight interest to falling in love. his morbid sense of humour was a bit of a culture-shock to most, and actually got him into a few scandals because of it. later on in a documentary he revealed that he was actually quite depressed before debuting, as he was a last-minute addition and had to work twice as hard in order to make it with his friends. but after debut, his members noticed that he began to smile more and make more jokes— albeit mostly at kunikida’s expense, but none of them seem to truly mind as long as dazai was happy.

edogawa ranpo:

the main rapper who behaves like he’s the youngest but actually is the oldest, ranpo steals hearts with his childish behaviour offstage but profound professionalism onstage. it’s an inside joke among fans that ranpo onstage and ranpo offstage are actually two different people— but they all know that the real duality is ranpo when he chooses to wear his glasses, and ranpo when he doesn’t wear them. he has a bit of a mischievous streak as well, and often joins dazai in his escapades.

this king of duality also is well known for his side commentary— in their daily vlogs and reality shows, you can always expect to hear him say at least five unintentionally snarky comments. but his unmerciful tongue can always be quelled with sweets and snacks, and ranpo often receives snacks as gifts (or bribes) from his members, especially when they’re playing games for reality shows. kunikida always threatens to confiscate them if ranpo doesn’t follow the rules of the game, but his threats fall on deaf ears; nothing can separate ranpo from his snacks. the real reason for his childish behaviour is actually quite sad— he spent most of his childhood as a trainee, and so ranpo still is a kid at heart.

tanizaki juni’ichiro:

an all-rounder and the one who writes and produces most of their songs, tanizaki is the hidden gem of the group— whether it’s singing with dazai, keeping up with atsushi’s complex choreographies, or matching ranpo’s flow of rap, tanizaki has got it all. but despite his many talents, he is often initially overlooked by fans due to his natural ability to blend in easily. tanizaki doesn’t seem to mind, though— it’s as if he knows that once he flips the switch, nobody will be able to take their eyes off of him.

he has a younger sister who he posts about when she sends him gifts (which is very often), and is quite the doting big brother to her (i just want them to be wholesome no weird stuff here ok). with his gentle nature and alluring aura, tanizaki has gained the reputation of being the ‘ultimate bias-wrecker’ in the fandom to the point of it becoming a meme. you aren’t a true fan of the group if you haven’t been seriously bias-wrecked by tanizaki at least once, so the fans say— and once you fall for tanizaki, there’s absolutely no turning back.

atsushi nakajima:

as the main dancer, atsushi moves in an almost unearthly manner that is bewitching to all who see him— his unique style of movement is what earned him a spot in the collaborative sub-unit double black. one minute he moves like flowing water, the next he’s moving faster than lightning; his sense of dynamics is ever-changing and he brings something new and different to each performance, even if the steps and the choreography are the exact same. but as the choreographer of the group, he always patiently explains the steps and dynamics of each movement to the other members, no matter how complex the choreography is.

however, the refined level of his dancing did not come without a price; prior to joining ADA Ent., atsushi had been a trainee at another company. he does not like to elaborate about it, but from what little information he gave, the training was incredibly brutal and the management as equally ruthless. the company had gone under after countless lawsuits, and all the trainees either gave up on their dreams to be idols or moved to other companies. but though he has faced much hardship, atsushi strives to focus more on the kindness that he’s been given and to be able to give it back a hundredfold; it is this heart of his that his fans admire greatly.

kenji miyuzawa:

the youngest of the group, kenji is the one who unites irregular with his bright spirit and cheerful heart; even after the most grueling rehearsals and performances, his infectious passion for performing remains the same. his blissful mentality is brought about by the fact that he only wants three things in life— to make his family proud, to be able to eat well, and to enjoy performing with his senior members.

it is this innocent mindset of his the older members treasure and seek to preserve, and with good reason; when times were difficult and more than one of them thought of calling it quits, kenji’s simple mindset what motivated them to push forward. for what drew them together was not the applause, nor was it the cheers of the fans— no, it was the simple pleasure of being able to perform with your friends, to make something unique and fun with them.

bonus round because I can MUHAHAHA

yukichi fukuzawa:

though he’s merely the taciturn manager of the boygroup, fukuzawa has somehow gained popularity among the fandom. known as the ‘handsome manager’, it’s no surprise that there’s no small amount of fan accounts dedicated to him. he also regularly receives gifts from fans and has three fansites (fans who act as unofficial photographers) solely for him. some fans have even converted their mothers into fukuzawa stans, thus ensuring their concert tickets for the rest of their lives.

it’s unknown how he became so popular, but one thing is for sure; fukuzawa cares for irregular as if they were his own children. sensing when the boys are stressed, making sure they get proper food and rest, and even shoving unruly ‘fans’ into trash bins if they cross the line and invade the personal space of the group— fukuzawa does it all.

[tellerluna-stories]

prologue.

Long ago, when the world was young and the archons had yet to rise to their positions as overseers of all, before the god of contracts was Morax or Rex Lapis or Zhongli or whatever name he chose to go by, he was asked a question he would never forget.

"Tell me, young one, what is the greatest treasure in all of creation?"

The young boy who was soon to be known as Morax looked up from the battered pages of a book he was reading; his golden eyes could not detect any ill-intent in the elder archon's face, nor was there any hint of deception in her voice. "Hmm.... It's gold, isn't it?" The youngling tilted his head, a curious expression on his face. "Or perhaps it is jade.... but then again, precious stones and other valuable items are always sold for gold." “Spoken like a true dragon.” His caregiver smiled and shook her head at his reply. "You have a fine sense of business and contracts in your young head, but no. The greatest treasure is not something that is accumulated, like gold or precious stones. Rather, it is something living." ".....Living?" He frowned in confusion. "I have never heard of living treasure before." "Living treasure is one that is most difficult to find, young one. Some spend entire lifetimes searching for it, and some never find it at all." The archon’s withered hands gently tugged the book from his, running her fingers over the pages tenderly. "But for each person, their living treasure is different and unique to them. For some, it is the love of friends and family. For others, it is a book they poured a lifetime of experiences in— like this one here." She gestured to the book in her hand, before returning it to its place on the bookshelf. The boy could not hide the confusion on his face, and the elder archon laughed and patted the tiny horns on his head. "Lastly, sometimes the living treasure you may seek could very well be a person." "A person.....?" "Yes, young one. A person." "How can a person be treasure?" "Hmm....."

His guardian tilted her head in contemplation, pondering a way to best explain it to the hatchling. “When you are with someone and you find that you are willing to lay everything down for that person, be it fame, riches, and even your very life—“ Her voice wavered for the fraction of a second. “— I think that is when you can safely say you have found your living treasure. Does that make more sense?” He only looked at his elder blankly. “I still do not think I’ve grasped the concept of treasure being alive.” “Ah, then perhaps it is something that you will learn as you grow older, young one.” The elder archon gathered him up into her arms, bouncing the boy slightly to keep her balance. “Some things can only be discovered as you walk through the path of life, and living treasure is surely one of them.”

“I see.” The boy put his hand to his chin, nodding solemnly. “I hope I find it soon, then. Did you ever find your treasure, elder?” The smile faded from the elder archon’s face. “I found him once, many eons ago.” “What happened to him, then?” “He was a writer, a brilliant one at that. In fact, he wrote the very book you were reading just now.” She shook her head, the wound too old for tears now. “But alas, I did not realize that he was my living treasure until it was too late, and he slipped away into oblivion.” “Promise me this, young one.” Her voice grew serious, and the archon’s dim eyes pierced into the boy’s eyes of amber. “Once you find your living treasure, you must never let it go. Do not let others steal it from you, and never let it slip out of your grasp. For once it leaves you, you will always regret not having done everything to take care of it and keep it by your side.” “I do not think I quite understand, elder...” “Promise me.” “I—“ He blinked owlishly, tilting his head to the side. “I promise, then.” The elder archon breathed a sigh of relief, and the smile returned to her face. “May you find your living treasure according to the perfect timing of the One Above, young one— and may you never lose it.”

[tellerluna-stories]

ii. rex lapis

The sands of time shifted once more, and now Rex Lapis ruled over Liyue. His land overflowed with wealth, and all who passed through Liyue saw their businesses prosper. The people who now walked the paved streets of Liyue had happily never known the tragedies of war, and they lived out their lives in blissful ignorance.

Within the Golden House, Rex Lapis paced around restlessly. His horns and claws were nowhere to be seen, as Liyue had no need for such instruments of war. The simple white robes he had donned for battle had been replaced with layers of multicoloured ceremonial robes and intricate headdresses that only the finest artisans could craft.

With these robes came great honour and responsibility, a reminder that the fate of Liyue rested solely upon the shoulders of Rex Lapis. Though they were made of mere fabric, at times Rex Lapis felt that they weighed heavier than chains of pure gold.

He sighed and fiddled with his sleeves— though he was, in fact, the reason mora existed in the very first place, he had to admit he was tired of seeing the same golden shimmer that surrounded him everywhere he looked.

“My lord.”

Without even turning around, he replied, “I told you not to be so formal with me.”

“Alright, alright.” You smiled and spread your hands disarmingly. “Thousands of years, but you’re still as legalistic as ever.”

Unlike Rex Lapis, you had not chosen to change too much about yourself in the years following the Archon War, whether in appearance or personality. It somewhat brought him comfort knowing that in a world that was constantly changing too fast for him to keep up, there was still one person who could keep him anchored; no matter what era you were in, you could always quickly adjust to the practices and customs around you without forcing yourself to mold to them.

“Thousands of years, and I still need to remind you that titles are unnecessary, my friend.”

“Ah, but the question is: am I genuinely forgetting to drop them, or do I keep using them just to irk you?”

He turned around, face carefully devoid of any emotion. “My friend, do you happen to fear the wrath of the Rock?”

He watched in satisfaction as the smug look on your face quickly morphed into one of fearful respect. “As a matter of fact I do, so let’s change the topic. Your robes are simply majestic, my— I mean, Rex Lapis!”

“Do you not have one just like this?” Rex Lapis looked down at his embellished sleeves— the people of Liyue had gifted both of you with ceremonial robes, but he had yet to see you wear them. “If I recall, yours had the phoenix embroidered on the front.”

“Oh yes, I still have it with me.” You bent over and inspected the nearest pile of mora, brushing the golden coins with your fingertips. “I don’t wear it much since it restricts my movements, but maybe I will if there’s a special occasion.”

“I would like to see you wear it someday, if you choose to. You’d look absolutely stunning.”

He waited for some witty comeback, the usual jokes you’d make in response to his compliments— but you remained oddly silent, hunched over the little pile of mora like a bird guarding its nest.

“My friend...?”

Gently, he placed a hand on your shoulder, unknowingly sending an electric current running through your veins.

“Ah, yes, yes! I was just, uh—“ Hurriedly, you jumped to your feet and dusted your hands off on your clothes. “I was just trying to remember where my robe was, that’s all. I stored it away but I don’t exactly remember where— you know how it is, right?”

Yes, you had just forgotten where you had last put that phoenix robe, as though you still didn’t clean it and carefully air it out at least once a month. That robe was one of the few things you treasured dearly, as it was a gift from the people you watched over... and perhaps also because it was a gift that matched with his.

The heat rushing to your face and the quickening of your heartbeat upon hearing him say you’d look stunning— that was out of pure embarrassment, nothing more. He only meant it out of kindness, now, don’t misinterpret his words.

Clearing your throat hastily, you tried to change the subject. “Did you know that there’s a full moon tonight?”

“Is there, now?” He tilted his head to the side; a somewhat endearing habit of his, left over from when he had horns. “I have not left this place in quite some time; the people of Liyue are a little too concerned for my safety to let me venture outside often.”

“They haven’t....?”

But Rex Lapis merely smiled in reply, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. “It’s only natural for young people to be overprotective of the ones who take care of them. I’m sure they would do the same for you if you just let them, my friend.”

“You sounded very old when you said that, my lord.”

“Pardon?”

“I said your words shone like gold when you said that, my lord.”

He narrowed his eyes skeptically, but you only returned his gaze with a look of pure, angelic innocence. There was no way he could say anything against you, especially not with that look on your face.

“My lord,” You said, with that innocent look still plastered on your face. “Given that you haven’t gone outside in a while, what say you to accompanying one such as myself on an outing this fine evening?”

“An outing, you say?” He put a hand to his chin and pretended to contemplate the idea, silently observing as your eyes lit up with poorly-hidden anticipation. “Where would one go at this hour? It would cause quite a stir if Rex Lapis were to suddenly disappear from his position, with no reasonable explanation.”

To that you raised a finger upwards in reply, pointing to the cavernous roof of the Golden House.

“Technically, you wouldn’t be leaving.” Holding out your hand to him, you smiled and said, “Shall we watch the stars together, then?”

———

“This is incredibly reckless.”

“It’s also incredibly exciting, don’t you think?”

Barely-suppressed laughter bubbled up into your throat as you looked at the great Rex Lapis, who had awkwardly bunched up his robes around his knees. There was no way he could climb to the top of the roof without either damaging his (very costly, one-of-a-kind) robe, or getting him tangled into a mummy wrapping of fine silk.

“Your laughter does not go unnoticed, by the way.” He said, glowing amber eyes trained on the vast ascent of roof tiles before him. “Since this was your idea, how about you think of a solution to this problem?”

The cool night breeze whistled in your ears like a distant flute, and he shivered slightly; it was best to think of a solution quickly, lest Liyue be in uproar over the dignified Rex Lapis catching a mere cold.

You squinted at the rooftop, trying to analyse the best way to scale it with as little collateral damage to your superior as possible. It was certainly possible, especially with your talents as an adeptus (and also because your position did not require such cumbersome clothing), but there would have to be some rather... unusual measures taken.

“Do you trust me?”

He blinked in confusion. “What strange sort of question is—“

Before he could finish, you lifted him off the ground as though you were carrying a princess.

“Hold on tight, my lord.” You whispered, your lips only a few breaths away from his ear. “It may be a little bit unstable.”

He barely had time to wrap his arms around your neck as you leapt into the air, nimbly bounding off the golden tiles like a deer.

What exactly was this situation he was in? Moreover, what was this odd sensation swelling in his heart?

“Mind your sleeves, Rex- I mean, my lord!” You huffed. “I can’t see where I’m stepping if you decide to obscure my sight, which isn’t exactly the best choice for you right now.”

With one final jump, you landed safely on the topmost roof of the Golden House. He could only stare at you blankly as he tried to process what had just happened in the past few minutes— however, you caught onto his stare too easily.

“What, are you surprised that I was able to pull that off?” Shaking your head vigorously to remove the flyaway hair from your eyes, you frowned at him in a jesting manner. “Don’t tell me you’ve been underestimating my abilities this whole time, my lord.”

“No.” He replied immediately. “I would never.”

“That’s what I thought.” With a nod of satisfaction, you gently set him down onto the roof. “Here is the moon and stars for you, as promised.”

Rex Lapis raised his eyes to the sky that he had not seen in some time, and the heavens did not disappoint.

Overhead, the galaxy stretched out in a rich tapestry of hues, stars interwoven in between the threads like beads of precious stones. A full moon hung in the sky, a pearl of great price that took all the beauty that surrounded it and unified it into a beautiful symphony of colours.

For the first time in a while, he felt free— up here with you by his side, there were no such things as duty and responsibility. There were only the two of you in this quiet, peaceful place, with the heavens above as your only witness.

“A lovely night, don’t you think?” You grinned and put your hands on your hips, the wind toying with your hair ever so slightly. “The minute I saw this, I knew you simply couldn’t miss it; not in a thousand years.”

His gaze lingered on the picture of you bathed in a soft halo of moonlight, smiling dreamily at the stars above. “...Very lovely, indeed.”

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Jolting suddenly, you fumbled as you brought out a brass bottle and a pair of teacups from seemingly thin air. “I figured it would be cold out, so I prepared something, just in case.” You gestured for him to sit. “Have a seat while you’re waiting— can’t have the ruler of Liyue standing around waiting for me to serve him, can I?”

“Your judgement is as impeccable as ever, my friend. Whatever would I do without you?”

You rolled your eyes as you began to unscrew the cap of the bottle. “Such flattery is unnecessary. We both know that you could manage Liyue just as well if you were on your own.”

“That doesn’t mean I would want to.” He hesitated, unsure if what he would say next would make you uneasy. “You have done more for me and for Liyue than you could possibly imagine, and I... I sincerely wish for you to know that. You have just as an important role in Liyue as I do, and this place would not be what it is today without you.”

Pausing in what you were doing, you slowly raised your eyes to meet his— there was nothing but pure sincerity in his eyes and words. He truly meant what he was saying, and the way he worded it made your heart- no, no, this wasn’t the time for that.

“...Thank you, Rex Lapis. Those words mean a lot to me, especially coming from you.”

“Do my ears deceive me?” He put a hand to his mouth in mock disbelief. “Say that once more, my friend, I do not think I heard you well the first time.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You glared at him. “It seems that your age is showing, my lord. Perhaps I should carry you back inside, if your age has really advanced so rapidly.“

“You called me Rex Lapis, for once. This is a day that this aged man shall remember for the rest of his life, and shall be inscribed into the history of Liyue as a momentous occasion—“

“The tea will grow cold long before your long-winded speech finishes, my lord. How about you drink first and talk later?”

Rex Lapis gave you an unimpressed stare. “Perhaps if you cease calling me ‘my lord’, I will think the matter over. When did you learn to brew tea, by the way?”

You returned his stare with one equally matched in unimpressed energy. “Over the years, I’ve found that the art of tea-brewing helped greatly in calming myself, and so I’ve been practicing ever since. Your cup, please— my lord.”

He rolled his eyes at your smug face and held out his cup.

A faint wisp of steam curled from the bottle as the dark liquid trickled into his teacup, along with some unknown plant matter. His thoughts must’ve shown clearly upon his face, for you burst out laughing upon seeing it. “It’s not poison, for Celestia’s sake! If I were planning to assassinate you, I would’ve done it eons ago.”

“And how is that meant to bring me any reassurance?”

“Oh, it wasn’t intended to.” You poured a cup for yourself and downed a sip of your concoction. “But no assassin would be fool enough to drink the poison intended for their target... except for me, possibly. Drink up!”

Rex Lapis still eyed the teacup in his hands suspiciously— but then again, you had never given any reason for him to doubt you, so why should he start now?

“So, is it good?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the unique flavours on his tongue. “If I could, I would drink the tea you make everyday for the rest of eternity.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words; you choked, nearly sending the bottle of tea tumbling off of the roof. “Ah- er, well—“

“What, is that too humble of praise for it? I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

“No, it’s just- well, it sounds like a phrase I’ve heard among the merchants of Inazuma— oh, never mind. I’m glad you like it.”

“What did you put in it to make it taste so exquisite?”

Leaning closer to him, you whispered, “Petals of peach blossom and glaze lily flowers. Along with some other choice ingredients, but what truly gives it that taste and aroma is the flowers.”

Your face was close, closer than he ever even dreamed to approach in a million years; in the pale moonlight, your eyes glittered brighter than any jewel the earth could give. Any dragon would covet such a treasure and guard it with their very life.

How had he not noticed how mesmerizing your eyes were till tonight?

“Absolutely fascinating,” He murmured, before belatedly realizing he said it aloud.

“Isn’t it?” You hummed in agreement. “It’s my special brew. I experimented on it until I could perfectly balance the flavours to my liking.” Your gaze swiveled to the elaborate water gardens sprawled in front of the Golden House. “Do you want me to plant a peach tree and some glaze lilies by the front of the gate? I could do that, if you really do enjoy my tea that much.”

A mix of relief and disappointment washed over him; you hadn’t realised he wasn’t talking about the flowers.

He mused over the idea— it didn’t seem so bad, after all, but...

“I’d like to plant them somewhere more.... permanent. Somewhere we can watch them grow together.”

“Say the word, and your wish is my command.” You beamed at him. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll have them in full bloom for you in no time, no matter the season.”

A warm, fluttering feeling filled his chest, and Rex Lapis suddenly found it harder to breathe than before. His face felt oddly warm, while his hands were cold— was it a result of the night air? He wasn’t that old yet.

Anxious to change the topic before you cracked another joke about his age, he quickly asked, “How are the affairs of Liyue doing, my friend?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “The trade routes are thriving splendidly. Many merchants from the other regions come to seek permission to transport goods to and from their lands, so I’ve been handling most of their affairs. Even picked up some of their languages while at it.” A mischievous smile spread across your face as you said, “Tu ne me comprends pas, non? Je t’aimerai pour toujours et à jamais, mon amour.”

“Impressive.” He hadn’t understood a word of what you had said, but he was almost dead certain that you were poking fun at him. “It is good to see that Liyue is in such capable hands. What about the—“

“—the adepti? Oh, they’re all doing quite well, I believe. They don’t really leave their abodes anymore, save for Madame Ping and young Ganyu.”

“How about—“

“Xiao? I visit him every now and then, to make sure he eats well and is doing alright. And yes, I bring him the painkillers you have specially made for him.” You paused. “He sends his greetings, and it is very obvious that that boy misses you, even if he won’t admit it himself.”

Rex Lapis breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “You really do know what I’m going to say, even before I say it.”

“What can I say? Even before you need to ask, you can consider it already done.” A chuckle escaped your lips as you scuffed the sole of your shoe against the roof tiles. “That’s why I’m here, after all. Who better than I to carry out the word of Rex Lapis?”

“You had best watch yourself there, my friend, lest your head grows too big for your shoulders.”

“Oh, but my lord, who was the one who gave me this position?” Propping your chin on your steepled fingers, you give him a smug look. “I seem to recall a certain someone appointing me as his right-hand, after all.”

“What has been given can just as swiftly be taken away.”

“You’re no fun.” You stuck your tongue out at him and turned away, pointedly staring at the moon.

“So, what is the real reason you brought me up here?”

In an instant your head whipped back to meet his gaze, eyes wide and mouth agape. “How did you—“

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin, and now it was his turn to look smug. “You’re not the only one who can practically read minds, my friend. The facade you put up is better crafted than mine, but I can still see right through you.”

“Well...” You fell silent for a moment, fingers tracing along the sides of the brass bottle and etching invisible patterns into the metal with your fingernails. “I wanted to ask how you were doing.”

Rex Lapis tilted his head slightly, confusion and curiosity melding into one feeling. “How I was doing?”

“I struggle sometimes... with the memories of those who have passed on. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment I forget; I get distracted or actually feel happy, but then I suddenly think of them, and I wonder if I actually have the right to enjoy myself.”

Shifting slightly, your expression was unreadable in the pale moonlight. “But lately, their faces have become blurry, and I get scared when I can’t remember what they look like. It’s the least I can do for my comrades, since I’m the only one left.” You pursed your lips. “Do you have the same problem?”

The somber look on your face stirred up the remorse that still gnawed at his heart, even after all these centuries. You had been suffering alone because of his mistakes, and it pained Rex Lapis even more knowing that no contract he wrote could remedy the empty gap in your heart. All he could do was sit with you and be something you could anchor yourself to, just the way you had been a steadfast rock to him.

He shifted to sit closer to you, no longer caring whether his robes would be dirtied or not. “Not quite the same problem.”

“...Oh.”

“Like you, even after so many years I still cannot help but think of them. Every detail of their lives, their voices and faces— I remember it all.” Rex Lapis looked up to the stars, where perhaps the constellations of your friends lay, and laughed dryly. “Mortal men have been blessed with forgetfulness, but it seems that I have been cursed to remember.”

Tentatively, he raised a hand to gently pat you on the head, just the way his caregiver used to when he was feeling out of sorts or upset. “But worry not, my friend. If what you worry about is forgetting, then I will be the one to remember everything for you.”

“You needn’t worry about me forgetting you, by the way.” You said quietly. “Even if I forget everything else in this world, I know that I’ll always remember you, no matter what form you take.”

The strange, fluttering feeling in his chest returned, coursing through his veins and flowing through his fingertips— subconsciously he pulled his hand away, fearing that those feelings would somehow reach you.

It’s merely the chill of the night air, he told himself.

You said nothing as he pulled away, but Rex Lapis found himself wishing you would say something, anything; complain, or make a joke out of it, or perhaps even ask him to do it again— no, he couldn’t dare dream of that.

Not for your sake.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You said suddenly, breaking the silence and the maze of thoughts his mind was trapped in.

Rex Lapis looked to the moon over Liyue Harbor, admiring the way it bathed the city in silver light. Though Liyue in the daytime was loud, filled with many colours and sounds that overwhelmed the senses, this version of Liyue was also beautiful to behold.

Perhaps... perhaps this is what she meant by living treasure, he thought to himself.

Caring for this city of people, nurturing them and building a better future for them and the future generations— that was certainly something close to his heart. It didn’t feel exactly like the living treasure he had expected, but as long as you were there to watch over Liyue with him, then perhaps... perhaps it would grow on him as time passed.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It truly is.”

But that evening, he failed to notice that you weren’t looking at the moon.

[tellerluna-stories]

rkive: living treasure.

PAIRING: zhongli x adeptus! reader

GENRE: slow burn, hurt/comfort, bittersweet fluff. allies to insufferably oblivious idiots to lovers, happy ending!

SUMMARY: it is a universal truth that every dragon has a treasure that it guards with its life. however, it seems that zhongli has yet to find his.

TW/CW: mentioned violence and war. spoilers for zhongli's backstories.

CHAPTERS:

prologue.

i. morax.

ii. rex lapis.

iii. zhongli.

epilogue.

IN THE SAME UNIVERSE (?):

to wish upon a lantern.

a long, long time.

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST.

[tellerluna-stories]

the muse and the melody

PAIRING: ganyu x reader

GENRE: fluff! established relationship, nonverbal communication.

TW/CW: n/a.

A/N: this is a birthday gift I wrote for my trusty co-op player and #1 beta reader :DD happy day of exiting the womb, elder sibling~~

Composing music was truly a thorn in your side when you didn’t even know what to write in the first place.

You run a hand through your unruly hair and sigh discontentedly, looking at the mess of papers before you. Earlier in the day you had painstakingly worked to set up the most productive atmosphere and distraction-free environment that you could, with the foolproof plan to write a masterpiece in one afternoon. Now it was late in the evening, and the sheets of paper that you thought would overflow with music had remained pristinely blank.

Drawing a hand over your face, you cast a glance at the clock on your desk— she should be home anytime soon.

The faint sound of the front door opening and closing is enough to jolt you out of your misery, and you hear a familiar voice call out, “I’m home.”

Like magic, the sound of that soft, lovely voice dispels the gloom hanging over you— hastily, you collect your wits and scrabble at the disorderly heap of papers in an attempt to organize them.

Footsteps shuffle closer and closer to your study, and Ganyu opens the door just as you finished stacking them neatly.

“Hi.”

She blinks at you and gives you a soft smile in greeting. “Hello.”

“It’s really late.” You gently lead Ganyu to sit down on the bench before the piano— the chair of your desk would be too hard and uncomfortable for her. “If I’d known you would come home this late at night, I’d have gone to pick you up.”

She dismisses the thought with a shake of her head, her snowy blue locks flying every which way. “Ah, there’s no need for that… I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” Smoothing her hair, you sit beside her and give her hand a gentle squeeze. “But I just get worried, that’s all.”

Ganyu doesn’t reply, but you can hear the unspoken words that she cannot find the courage to say yet— I didn’t want to bother you by asking you to come at such an hour. I’m sorry for making you worry, but I’m also grateful that you care for me enough to worry about me.

You wished you could find the courage to verbalize your reply to her, but in that aspect the two of you were too similar; words were often insufficient to fully communicate your intentions and feelings. To make up for this, you sought to express your emotions in your music, while Ganyu chose to communicate them through her diligence in everything she did.

So in order to tell her the words you wanted to say, you turn to face the piano and ask, “Do you want me to play for you?”

Her eyes light up with childlike delight, and that’s more than enough of an answer for you.

“I should warn you though,” you remark as you lift the cover off of the black and white keys, “I’ve been in musical burnout the whole day, so I don’t really know what to play.”

“That’s alright.” Ganyu shifts to sit closer to you, burying her head in your shoulder. Her arms loosely wrap around your waist, as if by instinct— she must be really tired today, you think. “I like to listen to everything you play.”

Your heart thumps against your ribcage noisily- she really had a knack for taking you by surprise like this.

Quickly, you try to distract her by changing the topic before she notices your flustered expression. “Was it tiring at work?”

“Mm.”

“Did you remember to eat the lunch I packed for you?”

“Mm.”

“You didn’t take all the workload on yourself again, did you?

“…”

“…Ganyu.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t take all of it this time. Just… three-fourths of it.”

“Ganyu.”

She gives you a look with those big, innocent eyes of hers, and the tempo of your heartbeat changes from andante to allegro in a split second. Whether Ganyu is doing it deliberately or not, you know a losing battle when you see one.

“Fine, fine, I won’t nag you about it. I’ll just play for you as your in-house musician and composer.”

With a sigh, you turn to the keyboard and ruffle your hair— what to play, what to play. What sort of tune could your empty head pull out of a hat? What was it that you wanted to say to Ganyu? You wanted your song to be perfect, a masterpiece just solely for her- she deserved nothing less than that.

But how? What volume would you play at? Did you want to have a more upbeat tune, or would you have something soft and sweet? Would she prefer more complex progressions of notes, or was simplicity the way to go?

‘I like to listen to everything you play.’

That single sentence was so direct, so simply phrased— and yet it washed away the angry buzzing of your internal voice like footprints in the sand.

Whether you just play whatever comes to your mind at the moment or you’re drilling exercises for defter fingers, she always chose to sit next to you and listen in reverent silence. Even when you play a wrong note, even if you forget what musical phrase comes next, Ganyu still looks enraptured by your music— and it’s because you are the only one who can play it.

Knowing this gives you confidence and puts your mind at ease; now you’re sure of what you want to say.

Thank you for coming home safely. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but I still want to try and protect you. I wish you weren’t so insecure about yourself; I want to tell you how much I cherish you, whether it’s the person who you were in the past, who you are now, or who you will be in the future.

Bit by bit, the words in your heart come together and flow into the melody— any trace of creative block had long since disappeared, replaced with the fire of inspiration that all artists thrive upon. Your instrument became as your voice, and the black and white keys unlocked all the things you kept locked away, the words you wanted to say but just couldn’t. Though they were tentative and unsure, you hoped that your feelings would come across.

“It’s a little bit rough, considering that I made that up on the spot just now.” Your voice wavers slightly— you’d been so absorbed in your playing that you were out of breath. “But… what do you think?”

There was no reply; her deep breaths tickled against the side of your neck, indicating she was fast asleep.

With a shake of your head accompanied with a rueful smile, you shift so that you can wrap an arm around her shoulders— the Liyue Qixing had no small amount of tasks to be done, and yet Ganyu accomplished more in a day than fifty employees could in a week. It was no wonder she came home each evening completely exhausted.

But I wish you’d take better care of yourself, you think as you look at her sleeping face. Her eyelashes flutter lazily as she dozes— knowing her, she was probably dreaming of her schedules for the next day.

“Goodnight, Ganyu.”

Carefully, so you wouldn’t disturb her, you carry her to the couch and drape a blanket over her. She’d have to go to work in a few hours, so it was best to have her nearby so that you could wake her.

As for what you would do till then… inspiration still burned through your blood like adrenaline, and music wouldn’t write itself. You had so many things to say, to tell her through your music— after all, it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks. If the heart overflows with love, then it is only natural that the mouth will speak of love.

[tellerluna-stories]

Chuuya and Ranpo with a S/O who plays videogames:

nakahara chuuya:

• okay chuuya has definitely played his fair share of videogames (against dazai lol), so he isn't exactly unfamiliar with the world of gaming.

• that being said, he can't help but be a bit confused when you play, throwing around what seems to be words from a completely different language from the one you both speak.

• ".....what's a..... pogchamp?"

• "you are. c'mere, my little pogchamp."

• the look on his face is very much a scowl (with a little hint of red in his cheeks) but he seems happy to run into your open arms anyway.

• on his days off chuuya likes to watch you play games while he sits behind you with his chin propped on your shoulder or on the back of your chair. his favourite games to watch would probably be fps games or games with a lot of action in general, because he likes the adrenaline rush!!

• prepare your ears pls. no matter how loud you are when playing, chuuya is going to be at least 2000% louder than you. whether you make a clean kill, get good loot, or carry your team, chuuya is going to broadcast it to the heavens whether you like it or not. he cheers louder than you and rages even more than you do and he’s not even the one playing

• "DID YOU SEE THAT???? YOU LOSERS GOT PWNED GET WRECKED"

• "chuuya, dear.... I love you, but please don't ever use gaming lingo again"

• your neighbors have sent ten noise complaints already, please be considerate

• does chuuya care? no

• and so the gaming screamfest continues

• one really nice thing about chuuya is that he will always listen to you, so go wild!! he doesn't mind if you ramble on and on about your favourite games, your woes about grinding to make your characters stronger— he'll listen to it all, even if he doesn't understand it.

• he pays attention to what you say, too; mention a game you want to try, that your gear needs replacing, or perhaps a character or skin you really want to get— later on you'll find the game on your shelf where the rest are kept, a package delivered to your door with brand-new equipment inside, and gift checks tucked into your coat pocket.

• of course, when asked about it, chuuya will only turn away and deny having any knowledge about it. (however, the tips of his ears turn noticeably red, which says otherwise)

• eventually, you convince him to try playing with you, and while he isn’t as avid a player as you are, he can certainly hold his ground in a fight.

• (he lowkey loves watching you when the two of you play in co-op- seeing you take down gigantic bosses like it’s nothing fills him with a mixture of awe and pride.)

edogawa ranpo:

• when he finds out you play video games he goes ":OOO!!!!!!!!!"

• ranpo grew up in a sheltered environment so he doesn't know too much about video games

• so he’s very very curious!!!

• the minute you bring out your console or phone he immediately zooms and takes a seat next to you. he doesn’t care about personal space at all and just snuggles as close to you as possible so he can watch you play comfortably.

• (he has that ‘do you have any games on your phone’ energy ngl)

• ever since then, it has not become uncommon for the members of the detective agency to see ranpo practically glued to your side as you play games during your break.

• this goes on for quite some time until one day you cave and ask him why he doesn’t try playing for himself.

• "I don’t know how to! and besides, I don’t wanna play alone :D"

• so you decide to play animal crossing with him, on the condition that he helps out at the agency and not spend 24/7 glued to you (not like you minded or anything, it’s just that kunikida had made so many complaints)

• ranpo agrees enthusiastically!!! 

• so when you go home after a long day’s work, you and ranpo will build a pillow fort and snuggle inside with snacks and your console, ready to play animal crossing.

• he’ll lean his head on your shoulder, smiling as the two of you catch butterflies and plant flowers- and if he falls asleep, well, that’s a secret for only you to know.

[tellerluna-stories]

fairy of shampoo. 

PAIRING: kunikida x reader

GENRE: a little bit of fluff and angst? one-sided love, pining.

SUMMARY: "he waits for her, the woman of eight-thirty. would you like to watch her? she advertises for 15 seconds for a shampoo company. would you like to watch her?" — the shampoo fairy, jang jung-il

TW/CW: parasocial relationships.

A/N: kunikida needs more love, therefore I will be providing more content for kunikida lovers. also this random drabble was inspired by the song ‘fairy of shampoo’ covered by txt and originally written by light and salt, as well as the original poem (which the song was based off of) ‘the shampoo fairy’ by jang jung-il.

Calm, collected, and calculating; those were the words one used to describe Kunikida Doppo.

Idealistic? Yes. Hot-headed? Maybe a little, but that was for the sake of pursuing his ideals. He had to learn to sacrifice in order to achieve the ideals he had carved in stone.

Anyone who looked at him would think that he was a man who always prioritized the greater good over his personal wishes, who would never bat at an eye at trivial things and feelings. And maybe, just maybe that was partially true— but only partially.

At 6:00pm, he got off of work at the detective agency and would head straight to the train station, looking neither right nor left but directly straight ahead. He would arrive at the train station at 6:13 with a generous two minutes before his scheduled train— these two minutes would be spent planning his schedule for the next day. Kunikida would get home at 6:45, eat his dinner and then work again from 7 to 8:10. Then he would spend exactly 15 minutes to shower, and then would sit in the living room writing out his plans for the future he wanted.

For just like any other human being, Kunikida had hopes and wishes hidden deep within his heart and within the pages of one of his many notebooks. He longed for an ideal life with a loving spouse and doting children (and a stable income to support them with). Why else did he have such an elaborate plan laid out for his future?

But as to who his ideal partner was— he would never admit it aloud, for even Kunikida knew how ludicrous the idea was, for his ideal partner was the model of a shampoo commercial.

At 8:30 in the evening, he would stand up and turn on the TV— he hardly ever used it, for he had no interest in anything that the media brought with the exception of the news. However, for fifteen seconds.... just for fifteen seconds, perhaps he could make an exception for you.

Soft foamy bubbles fill the screen, and shiny, almost glowing hair swishes into view. On the tiny, blurry screen of Kunikida’s television, you smile radiantly— with the way you are surrounded by iridescent soap bubbles, Kunikida thinks you are ethereal. With your wings of foamy white and a halo of shining soap bubbles, he can only wonder: were you an angel or a fairy?

And before he can decide, the commercial is over and the channel is back to the regular programming. Life is ordinary again, and it is already time to move on to the next item in his schedule, which is to go to bed.

Yet Kunikida lies awake at night, his logical mind clouded with thoughts of white lather and sweet-smelling shampoo. Ideals, plans, fear of the future— angel or fairy? Fear of failure and fear of not being good enough— how ethereal can one look, surrounded by bubbles? Ideals, ideals, ideals— and he came to the conclusion that you truly were a fairy, a beautiful fairy of shampoo that he would strive to achieve for like he did his ideals.

Thus the idealistic man tossed and turned all night, until he gave into the weariness of his body and let his thoughts dissolve into iridescent foam, washed away by the peace of slumber.

[tellerluna-stories]

hello everyone!! ヾ(･ω･*)ﾉ

I've been a bit inactive on this blog for a while, but now I am back with a special announcement!!

I'm writing my first ever multichaptered fic!

the title is 'living treasure' and I've estimated it to have 5 parts total. it's a zhongli x reader fic because my friends are zhongli simps and I love watching them suffer. I was inactive here because I was writing it HAHA

yall still remember to wish upon a lantern? no? ok anyways this story is sorta set in the same universe and I expanded a little on the same concept. it's my first multichapter fic ever (like ever, in all my years of fic writing), so please be kind!

I will be uploading the prologue later today, so please stay tuned!