We got both Hu Tao n Staff of Homa!! We’re crying!! I’m just worried about about Arataki Itto now even though we have 8k primos left!

Arataki Itto with a chubby!reader

Trigger warning(s)/Tags: angst, hurt(?)/comfort, fluff, comfort, mentions of insecurities, body image issues, body type descriptions

Word count: 1469 words

Date posted: Feb. 2 2022

•~•

• First of all, this has been on my mind for months so I have to share it

• Second, Itto would be WEAK for a chubby s/o

• Like, you cannot tell me this man wouldn’t be over the fucking moon for any type of s/o

• Regardless of your body type, Itto would give you the utmost respect, love, and support

• It’s already known that this loving himbo would go out of his way for anyone he loves and cares about, even if he doesn’t know them that well

• So him loving all types of appearances is completely within the realm of reality

• He also just gives off that vibe

• But back to the main topic here: our beloved himbo absolutely adoring his chubby!s/o

• He loves to cuddle into your chest or stomach and just be surrounded by your warmth

• His love language is 1000% physical affection

• If you gently pull his head down into your chest when cuddling, he will fucking DIE

• This man is down bad, please take care of him

• He prides himself on protecting you and making sure you’re okay

• He gets into a lot of trouble on his adventures, so he has to make sure you’re okay over everything else

• You’re precious to him, so he’d do absolutely anything to keep you safe and healthy

• Insecurities? Not on his watch

• He tells you how much he loves you every moment of the day

• One day he finds you looking in the mirror, poking and prodding at fat

• It doesn’t click in his mind at first

• He honestly just thinks you’re admiring yourself the way he usually does

• Then you suck your stomach in, sighing out in frustration when you don’t achieve your desired outcome

• He’s still a little confused to be honest

• Confused as to why you’re frustrated

• What’s there to be annoyed with? It’s skin, beautiful skin that he loves to squeeze and kiss and admire as of it was a shining star placed into his hands by a god

• It isn’t until you avert your own gaze, looking away at the mocking reflection, and grab your previously discarded shirt from the counter, that it clicks

• Are you unhappy with your look?

• He doesn’t quite understand this struggle personally, but he empathizes with you still

• He’s far from immune to insecurity, having his fair share of the wretched feeling

• Itto understands what it feels like to have those plaguing thoughts ringing in the back of your mind, screaming at you

• He fears not being able to protect you, thinking he’s not good enough for you or that he’s only going to bring you down with him. The list goes on

• So when he sees you in such a vulnerable state, it breaks his heart

• Especially since you’re fretting over a part of yourself that he loves so much

• Nuzzling his face into your stomach is probably one of his favorite pastimes

• The chub on your arms makes you one of the best huggers he’s ever met

• Your chubby cheeks? The best place to plaster sweet kisses over and over so he can hear your melodious voice giggling while you tell him to stop

• Your thighs are heavenly pillows which he thanks the archons for every morning and night

• Itto understands the feeling of insecurity, but he can’t quite understand this insecurity

• But that doesn’t make it invalid!

• He knows that it’ll be a nagging little voice regardless of what he says

• But if he can help reduce it to just an annoying nagging voice that you can flick away, then he’ll do just that

• Making his way to the bathroom, he steps behind you, looking at the reflection of you both in the mirror

• His arms snake around your waist and he bends slightly to rest his head at the base of your neck and shoulder

• He wordlessly gazes at your reflection, a soft smile taking over his lips at your image

• The words he had quickly planned out seemed to float from his mind, lost in the lovesick grin he adorns

• “You’re so gorgeous.” is all he’s able to muster up

• Realizing he must have seen you, your face heats up, eyes widening and trying to hold back the embarrassment rising in your throat

• Itto sends a silent, understanding smile, before kissing the base of your neck and nuzzling his nose into the warm skin

• “I love you, you know that right?”

• His words never fail to make your heart flutter, but you can’t help but wonder if your heartbeat speeding up is from the sentiment or the anxiety

• “Yeah,” you choke out with a stiff chuckle, “ you tell me everyday.”

• “That also means every part of you.” His voice is muffled with his face planted comfortably in your neck

• He looks back up into the mirror, the gentle, loving smile never having left his face

• “What do you mean?”

• “I mean,” he takes in a deep breath, standing up to his full height, pulling you closer against his chest. “it’s time for us to cuddle and for me to show you how much I love you’re pudge!”

• The words don’t seem to hit as well as he would have hoped, you tiny smile still holding an edge of resentment

• “Why do you like it?”

• “Like what?”

• “My fat. You’re always holding or squeezing it, doesn’t it gross you out?” You sneer at the reflection which seems to mocks you

• “Gross me out? Why would it do that?”

• “Well it’s just.. there. Wouldn’t you want to be with someone that’s more fit like you?”

• Now that genuinely confuses him

• Man is the embodiment of the meme where the woman’s confused with math equations around her head

• “What makes them any different from you?” His hands, still tightly wound around your waist, start subconsciously rubbing and kneading at your stomach. A comforting action he’d picked up fairly early on in your relationship

• “They’re skinny, I’m not. Wouldn’t you want someone prettier? Like with a flat stomach?”

• Your words hit him like a punch in the gut, but the tears starting to form in your eyes only make the feeling worse

• “But you’re gorgeous, I couldn’t dream of being with someone else.”

• Itto’s hands move to your shoulders, turning you away from the mirror to look at him

• His hands move to your cheeks, caressing the skin with a gentle thumb

• “Being skinny doesn’t make you beautiful and having extra fat doesn’t make you ugly.”

• His eyes flit back and forth between yours, holding back the urge to pull you into a kiss that very moment

• “I love you and every part of you. Your chub just makes you all the more better to love and cuddle with and kiss and hug and everything else!”

• He planted scattered kisses along forehead, cheeks, and nose. Muttering “I love you”s between each

• Describing and explaining things may not be his strongest suit but the sincerity of his words is enough to get the message across

• Again, his love language is physical affection, so showing how much he loves and adores you is the best way he knows how of assuring you

• “Thank you, I love you too, Itto”

• You’re still not feeling great, Itto can tell

• Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you have a tired and drowsy look in your eyes

• “So, about that cuddling part…”

• Itto looks at you hopefully, taking in the gentle smile which grows just a little bit wider at his suggestion

• “Okay,” you chuckle. “Come on, I could use a nap.”

• You take his hand to drag him over to the bed, now pulling a lovesick man who seems to be floating on cloud nine

• Crawling under the covers, you lay on your back, opening your arms to your boyfriend invitingly

• Itto’s eyes light up like a kid being given some fresh and sweet dango

• He cuddles up to your chest, placing tiny kisses along your stomach and chest, whispering sweet nothings after each

• Finally, he settles when you gently pull his head down to your chest, running your hands through his hair and humming a small tune

• Hearing your contented sigh, he watches as you slowly drift off to sleep, comforted by the warmth he was giving

• If he was standing he might have just fallen over

• He swears that whenever he’s with you, it feels like he’s died and gone to Celestia

• He’s not fully sure how to help but he’ll do whatever he can to make sure you know that you are cherished and loved. Chubbiness and all

Star-crossed Love…

About: A star-crossed AU that’s part of my ‘In Another Life’ AU collab! Do check out everyone else’s work through this linkif you’re interested in more content

CW:Angst for the most part! Specifics below:

• Venti: Love that can’t happen due to outside forces (right person, wrong lifetime) –> mortal lifespan
• Zhongli: Reader death implied (he loses you in the archon war)
• Gorou:Reader has memory loss about their s/o (your vision was taken away from you)

Link to a related scene for Venti here! And here’s a trio of drabbles with the same mortal/immortal angst concept I did for the 3 archons!

Writing + Matchup Commissions are Open!

• A human and a god… That kind of story sounds like something out of a bard’s tale, doesn’t it? Yet in light of your mortal lifespan, Venti hesitates to approach you in a way that expresses his true feelings.
• If it was hard for normal individuals to be vulnerable, the idea can only be more taxing for him - after all, what right did he have to share a heart so heavy with sins of the past? Perhaps it’d be better to keep his distance while you still saw him as someone good and kind.
• Losing someone is something he’s used to, however… that doesn’t make each time easier than the last. And in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t Venti just being selfish by occupying your attention? When surely you’d be happier with someone else, your time better spent with them more meaningfully?
• He could not learn about the world with you with bright new eyes, experience age or illness - how could Venti bear to let you go through them alone? Thus he keeps his feelings to himself, lending you a shoulder to lean on when you needed, and playing melodies to lift your spirits.
• When you do find someone else, he’s happy for you! He ensures you reach your happy ending, both as a guardian deity of Mondstadt and your friend.
• It’s the least he can do, so just enjoy your life, alright? That’s his only request. For you to live without regrets; live a life that makes your chest ache with joy. He’ll do what he can to protect that.

• Zhongli lost you during the archon war, where you fought by his side. On the rare occasion where there was no conflict for a day or so, you’d regroup and finally let your guards down in the solace of one-another’s arms.
• It was a dangerous period - the loss of lives, immortal or otherwise, was nothing of an oddity. Zhongli… he considered himself lucky, for when he lost you, he had been by your side in your last moments.
• You asked him to continue living without regrets. You said that rock could withstand the most brutal of things - so Morax, please don’t burden yourself with my end. Just remember me fondly and know that I’ll always cheer for your happy ending, alright?
• You were one of the best of them, and yet you had no desire for a title or land in your name. You… Zhongli paused in his stroll, looking at the sea that stretched beyond the city’s harbour. 
• You were a little too much like him. Headstrong, well-meaning, willing to move mountains for what or who you loved.
• He misses you, he wishes you could see Liyue as it was today, where mortals were beginning to take charge of their future. Zhongli wonders what you would think of his new name, his new job. Would you make fun of his statues? Tease him about being the almighty Geo Lord?
• Ah, so it seems that he hasn’t completely moved on yet.
• Zhongli covered his eyes with his hand. Soon, you’d always say. Soon, we may lay down our weapons and only worry for ourselves. I’ll expect proper gifts from you then, Morax. No more dinners by the campfire in the middle of a war.

• One of the scariest things that’s happened to Gorou was when you looked at him through the eyes of a stranger. You’d returned his hug with a light squeeze - out of politeness, and leaned away with an unsure smile:
• I’m sorry, but I don’t recall if we’ve met before…
• Gorou has to try so hard to not let the hurt show on his expression - were you joking..? No, you didn’t usually try to prank him like that. Then why…
• When his gaze trails to the place where your vision normally rested, Gorou’s blood froze. Something fearful clawed at him as the color drained from his face, and his hands slacken.
• Those that lose their visions also lose memories tied to those ambitions. Please be careful, Gorou.
• The world came to a pause as his mind started to scramble for signs that this wasn’t the case. In his desperation, Gorou takes your hands and searches your eyes, asking, pleading for you to talk about the dreams that you held so dearly.
• But you only looked at him with more confusion in your gaze. A conflicted look crosses your expression as you feel something familiar about his touch, yet… 
• Even if you searched your mind, you were unable to find any memory that resembled what the man was hoping for.
• I… I don’t have a vision, General Gorou. You gently took your hands out of his, giving them a squeeze. Do you have the wrong person?

five more minutes.

plot:the characters’ s/o dies.

contains:tartaglia, kaeya, zhongli

warnings:angst, incredibly angsty, swords, blood, death, panicking

TW DEATH, TW BLOOD please do not proceed if you’re uncomfortable with the topics

ps: the song tartaglia is singing at the end is a rough translation of голубой вагон, a song from an old tv show for kids!

tartaglia

it’s always been promises over promises with him. many times has he came home from work covered in blood, dead eyes wandering around looking everywhere but not into yours, wounds bleeding over his clothes, leaving nasty scars behind. countless times had you pleaded him to watch out more, to be more careful, to choose his battles wisely, you reminded him that you couldn’t bare to loose him.

and countless times had he responded that you’re being silly, nobody could ever kill him, that he’s never gonna leave you alone, he’ll always be there for you, that he won’t loose.

and he kept his end of the deal this time. as a soldier you know one thing: if there’s an order, there’s no room for discussion, it just needs to be done and that’s it. so he fulfilled your order, he stayed alive.

so why didn’t you?

he never imagined it’d turn out this way. never in his deepest nightmares on the longest nights of the year. he would never wish on his worst enemy to be seeing his love loose life in front of them.

and yet here he was - restrain of the abyss herald’s grip on his wrists as he screamed, and screamed, even though he didn’t hear anything.

why was his body so weak? why couldn’t he just push him away and save you? why, why the fuck, when he needed his own abyssal powers, they wouldn’t work?

the sad smile of a blonde girl wielding a bloody sword before your falling body enraged him to the brim, anger tuning down all the other feelings, making him finally snap out of the herald’s hold, running towards you, tripping over his own feet in a rush.

“hey, hey, love, look at me” he didn’t know if it was a whisper or a cry, nevertheless he pleaded endlessly “it’s okay, you’re fine, i got you now, don’t worry”

was he calming you, or was he calming himself? your lost eyes finally found their way to his, as you opened your mouth in attempt to talk.

“shh, okay, don’t push it, save your energy for surviving” he put his hand on your cheek, gently wiping down the sweat, blood and tears.

“seems i finally managed to get back at you, tartaglia” the woman’s voice behind him suddenly exclaimed, walking over to the two of you. the redhead’s expression turned furious as his eyes sparkled with a dangerous shade of purple, overtaking the eveblue hue, an electric polearm appearing in his grip.

“one more step and you’ll be wishing you were never born” he gritted, hand shaking a bit from emotion. “fucking run”

the figure laughed bitterly before truly disappearing, or maybe she just walked away? you couldn’t notice, not with your vision blurring into one mush of images before your eyes.

a sudden need for your lover hit you, and with everything you had, you tugged on his uniform.

“ajax?” you muttered, and felt his muscles tense upon hearing the name.

“yeah? come on, love, let’s get you outta here” he smiled, or at least you thought he smiled, before struggling to lift you up, his arms tired and covered in cuts to add to his collection of scars.

you shook your head.

“can you— can you do something for me?” you coughed, feeling a watery substance flood your mouth.

“mhm, i’ll do anything, as soon as we get out of here” he promised, hopes of getting you to safety never fading away.

“no, no ajax, that— that won’t be n-necessary” you whispered with a weak smile. “i just want to hear your voice one more time”

your arms were fighting against him only gently, strength leaving your muscles, but he still abandoned his tries of lifting you with a broken cry.

“you’re gonna hear it every day, sweetheart, every day until you get sick of it” he kept saying “you still need to hear all my dumb jokes, all my million i love you’s, and all my stupid teasing, you’re gonna have to tell me to shut up so many times— who’s gonna tell me to shut up if not you?” tears dropped onto your cheek in a rapid pace, warming dots on the cold skin sending last messages to your tired brain. “i’m gonna make you get sick of it, pinky promise” he laughed through the tears, lacing your fingers together without waiting for your approval.

“can you… sing me that one s-song you said always put your siblings to s-sleep with?” your breaths were labored as if ripped out of your chest by force. “you know, the one you showed qiqi that one time?”

“but you won’t understand a thing, though” he chuckled, wiping his own eyes, and you shook your head.

“i don’t need to. your voice is pretty, do you… do you know that?”

he agreed to your plea with pain stabbing his chest, moving both of you towards a nearby wall, leaning on it for support, before he started to hum a melody born and sang in the land of snow and cold, the notes ironically warming up your slowing heart.

he couldn’t dare look at you, but his hand kept playing with your hair mindlessly as he sang. as predicted, you couldn’t single out any words, but the sound of it alone was peaceful and put your heartrate at ease, words almost not sounding like words, more like something that was meant to be a melody, and not to be spoken with. soon the sounds started fading away, and you gripped tartaglia’s hand tighter, afraid he’ll go away. you didn’t want him to go.

(…)a long, long road swirls and twirls, disappearing somewhere behind the horizon, oh everybody, everybody can dream a beautiful dream (…)

a scream left his throat when you stopped responding to his nudges, body remaining in his arms for long hours, an electric spark painting his irises.

they would pay for this with a river of blood and suffering, every single one of them, even if it would be the last thing tartaglia ever did.

if this is the hill he’d die on, he’d gladly do it, for you.

kaeya

it’s been a while since kaeya was deployed to a field fight, and to be honest, he wasn’t so sure of his abilities, after all, all he did for a long time was practice with bennett, but orders were orders, and so he went into battle. he wished he could have you by his side, but you were leading another group of knights, destined to hit the enemy’s resting place from some place else.

despite his previous worries, everything was going surprisingly smoothly and well. at one point he felt something heavy smash against his back, but looking over your shoulder he saw you, gasping for air.

“everything fine over here, captain?” you asked teasingly, the everlasting smile on your lips making kaeya grin as well.

“with such great support, how could it not?”

and it did go great, actually, another great victory against the abyss, another question for kaeya to keep himself with at night - was he on the right side of things? should he feel sympathy for his now foes? should he feel like he belonged with people who abandoned him? was it bad that he didn’t?

he struggled with every thin and perfect slice of his sword, but managed to pull through, as orders are always orders, feeling happy about being able to go home with you and let the feeling of your fingers brushing against his face numb the hole he felt forming in his chest.

so, he looked around to find you. maybe before you could go to the tavern and have one quick drink to help you both sleep? diluc acted like he didn’t, but he would want to see that kaeya is alive and well, so he could peacefully ignore his existence again.

“darling” he almost chirped, feeling great to drop the military ranks and refer to you as a lover should, with care and fondness, but his voice stuck in his throat when he saw one last abyss mage’s flames go right through you.

suddenly all the moral issues were settled for him, priorities set straighter than ever.

one second, and he was there, one more and the mage was no longer a threat, an icy figure in the shape of him turning into dust, the next moment kaeya was right beside you, your head on his thighs, as he gently patted your cheeks to stir you awake.

“jean!” he yelled with all he had “jean, get me a medic!”

people were rushing all around, causing terrible noise and commotion, yet no one was there to hear his plea, which he repeated over and over. finally he grabbed one knight by their forearm and ordered them to send for the acting grandmaster as soon as possible.

“kaeya” you gasped, noticing his face hover above yours. “kaeya” you repeated “fuck, something hurts so much, what the hell happened?” you winced in pain, shifting and squirming around, bringing yourself more suffering than necessary.

“shh” he attempted calming you “it’s nothing, baby, it’s just a scratch” he smiled softly, trained excellent at hiding his own fear until a confident demeanor.

it was more than just a scratch.

“really? it— fucking hell, it burns so much, fuck, kaeya please, please make it stop” you begged, causing panic to settle deeper and deeper inside his stomach.

“mhm, someone is coming to treat this for you as we speak, they’re gonna be here any minute, sweets” he assured “they’re gonna bandage you up nicely and you’ll be up and ready to go!”

you nodded, but your breath still hitched and your eyes still wandered around in panic, as you squeezed kaeya’s hand tighter for grounding.

“am i gonna die? please don’t let me die, i don’t want to go yet, i’m not rea—“

“baby, baby, hey, calm down” he cooed, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “everything is okay, you’re okay, i’m not gonna let anybody die on my watch, okay?” his face went white when he saw his other hand, resting on your upper stomach, stained with much more blood than he’d like to see. fuck.

“i don’t want to go, i don’t want to, i don’t—“ you choked on your own tears, and the rest of what you intended to say was no longer audible. kaeya’s bloody hand went up to his mouth and nose in a desperate attempt to muffle his own cry of helplessness, as he looked around in search of jean, or any medic, or just anyone who had a bandage, but noticed no one.

“alright” he said, swiftly ripping off a sleeve of his attire, wrapping it over your body, just above the fatal wound. “i’m gonna do this shit myself” he groaned squeezing it tighter and tighter, but not even a whimper of pain left your mouth.

“feeling okay there, sweets?” he asked, constantly checking if the blood flow decreased, but you didn’t answer, causing him to look up to your pale face and fading eyes. “hey, no no no, do you hear me, y/n? please, tell me you hear me” his tone became less and less commanding and more of a beg.

“thank you, kaeya” you whispered softly, eyes shutting down “i’ll always look over you” you added.

“i don’t need you looking over me, i need you to look at me, or with me, or, fuck, just, don’t go, please, please don’t leave me here alone” his cries breaking in the middle of the sentence formed something that would be quite hard to understand, too bad you weren’t listening either way. “i need you here with me” he wanted to scream, but his tired throat only let out a bare whisper. his head dropped as he wept, not knowing how much time had passed before a hand touched his shoulder, hand belonging to master jean. he looked up at her with nothing but pain.

he finally understood what diluc felt when leaving the knights.

zhongli

after all those years, and all those loses, he thought he would get used to outliving people, even if the price was to stop caring completely. but as time flew by, he realized, it wasn’t getting any easier, not even a little.

obviously there was this voice at the back of his head that predicted how it’s all gonna go the second he met someone, along with the feeling of being above everybody else, of being different, superior, even.

but oh how foolish he was back when he thought being a god makes him somehow better than humans. how could he ever think that? the only difference that mattered was that he was significantly harder to kill.

and that stopped being an advantage at some point.

he had made a promise with himself never to fall in love again after what happened with his first. besides, what was the average life expectancy of a human? however long their life would be, it still wouldn’t pass for more than a second in the lifespan of a god. the decision of becoming dependent on somebody was just too stupid to make,

and yet here he was. by his desk in the funeral parlor, flicking through the pages of a book, but, uncharacteristically for himself, kept glancing at the clock to see when his shift would end and he could go on a long promised meeting with you. it was so close to striking the hour he hoped for, but then all of the sudden a faint knock interrupted the silence in the room.

“could you get it, mr zhongli?” director tao asked without her usual energetic undertone, focused on some finance book all scribbled over with her messy handwriting. he nodded, even though she couldn’t have noticed that, and walked over to the door.

imagine the surprise in his eyes when upon opening it, a heavy weight fell right into his arms, a whimper leaving your mouth as your burning forehead touched the material of his vest.

“love?” he asked, concerned, as he noticed redness spreading all over his attire, and the sickly colour of your skin. “are you alright? what happened?” he asked, strong arms lifting you up to your feet again, but still supporting your waist, your legs too weak to stand on their own.

“it was an… an accident, i didn’t- didn’t mean to” you breathed out, clinging onto his clothes, afraid to fall.

his at all times calm eyes examined your condition growing more and more worried, before it finally got to him that he needed to act fast.

“what the hell?” hu tao finally got up from her desk, and rushed over, swiftly knocking over things laying on zhongli’s desk, rushing him to put you there. after an irritated glance at the “child he can’t stand” he did agree to comply, putting you down slowly and securely.

only when they both looked at you this way did he realize how badly hurt you were, yet his mind was still irritatingly calm. that’s alright, he can just use his godly powers to help, right?

he put his hand down right above your wound and focused the energy inside him, yet nothing happened.

“mr zhongli, what on earth are you doing?!” the brunette yelled “go get baizhu or something!”

he frowned, distressed. “give me a second”

his eyes fluttered close again as he tried once more, his hand trembling, veins flexed, but to no avail.

he gasped for air both from frustration and tiredness, the reality hitting him all of the sudden,

you were dying. and he could do nothing. he gave up the power he could’ve used to help you now, oh how selfish he was, how reckless, even after all those years.

“send for baizhu!” he yelled, hu tao looking at him in disbelief

“that’s what i’ve been saying all along!” she shouted before leaving to get the medic, zhongli staying by your side.

“love” he whispered as soon as the door closed behind his boss. “look at me, please”

with effort, you opened your eyes and glanced at him, though your vision was blurry and you barely made out the details of his face, your hand went up to cup his cheek.

he smiled at the touch, shifting his head closer, hands traveling to hold your cold one.

“i’m so sorry” you mumbled, and closed your eyes again, his pupils widening.

“no need, darling, just stay with me” he said calmly, but his whole body shook from fear. “stay with me” he begged once more, but he already knew the reality of his pleas.

once more his life and love was leaving him, and all he could do was hold their hand.

plot: you walk in on tartaglia having a meltdown 

warnings: hurt/comfort, but very little comfort, description of self hate (the character, not the reader) 

i listened to god must hate me and nearly made myself cry writing this one

there was exactly zero thoughts in your head as you headed back home from your stroll. initially, you were just going to stop by bubu pharmacy and pick up some things, but from then you just went on walking through each and every little street and pathway liyue has to offer, enjoying the nice weather and the overall gleeful mood everyone seemed to be in. 

by the time you reached the door to your home, it was already getting dark, and your hand was all red and hurting from carrying the shopping bags for a long time, but it didn’t seem to have dampened your mood. you turned the key in the lock of your door and pushed it open with your foot. 

“i’m back!” you shouted, announcing your return to your boyfriend, who you supposed had to be home by now, considering it was his day off as well, but mentally you were prepared to find a note with his usual “hi love, i got called back to work, don’t know when i’ll be back, see you later, love you, don’t miss me too much” resting on the kitchen counter or the dining table. 

when you were met with silence, the thought of him having left seemed even more realistic, and though you weren’t exactly surprised, it did sting you a bit, you were looking forward to spending the day together. 

having closed the door, and while making peace with the fact that you had to entertain yourself alone this evening, you began the tedious task of putting the groceries away, and generally organizing everything that you’ve bought. only after finishing that did you venture further into your home, intentionally walking towards the bathroom, to maybe make yourself a nice bath or something of sorts. 

you halted upon hearing a soft thud coming from the room that has been recently turned into tartaglia’s workplace, or more likely, gym, as if someone fell in there. frozen in place, suspecting it to be a thief or something, because surely if childe was home he would’ve said hi, you waited for the next sound. 

you didn’t expect it to be a curse word said in a brittle voice, followed by something sliding towards the floor. recognizing the owner of said voice instantly, you didn’t even bother to knock before opening the door wide, and marching in there. 

you were met with a difficult situation. your boyfriend was indeed there, and as it turned out, he was the one to have fallen on the floor, now hiding his face between his knees and crossed arms, looking like a lost kid. in front of him, there was a punching bag that has seen better times, and besides, a lot of broken objects that he had to slam against the floor or something along the lines of that. the room seemed tense and you stayed silent for a moment before coming back to your senses and walking up to his side. 

“love?” you asked quietly, crouching in front of him. he didn’t notice your presence, still very deep inside of his own mind, muttering another “fuck” under his breath. “hey” you nudged his shoulder, attempting to speak as softly as it was humanly possible. 

to say it was rare to see the almighty, confident and even presumptuous lord tartaglia like this would be an understatement; you were almost sure you had never, ever seen him break down, nor have you heard of a situation like that happening. hence, you didn’t exactly know how to act. it got to you rather painfully that, while he was an expert at cheering you up and getting you out of the worst breakdowns, you had to idea how to do the same for him. 

he didn’t lift his head up, but you did hear a quiet “what do you want” coming from him. it was hoarse and wobbly, and didn’t sound like him at all. 

“what’s up? why’re we sitting in the dark?” you continued carefully, your fingers running through his hair, since he normally liked it, in any attempt of bringing him some comfort. 

the room fell silent again, and you thought of either leaving him be and just sitting there, or asking another question, but were thrown off tracks by a sudden reply.

“i’m a lost cause” he said slowly, leaving you completely stunned. “i’m-” he started again, but ran out of breath “i can’t even-”

“easy” you coaxed, feeling his body tremble under your hand. “darling, look at me” 

“no” he shook his head instantly, attempting to cover up even tighter. 

“come on, please. i want to help you.” 

witnessing him struggle to even show you, a person he loved, his face, was breaking your heart piece by piece, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw when he finally did lift his head up. 

your eyes were met with his, usually bright and blue, like the sea on a sunny day, now painted a hue bordering on violet, tired and dark, bloodshot with veins all around the iris. his face was as if broken and glued back together with a lavender glue, like his blood turned a different shade and painted his face, almost as if with makeup. the lines were glowing slightly, shining a sickly light at the rest of his pale condition. it wouldn’t feel enough to say it was scary sight - it got the blood in your veins circle back into your heart, or at least that’s what you felt. 

his face was wet with tears and sweat, and had a desperate look painted all over it. you didn’t think twice before moving your hand to cup his cheek, but he urged away from the contact, as if it hurt him. 

only then did you start noticing a bunch of very familiar and very worrying details - how his clothes were ripped, how he struggled breathing, how hot his skin felt, how his hair looked as if he was out faced with strong wind, instead of just sitting in a room. 

“you used it” you stated “why?”

as if on cue, tears started spilling from his eyes again, and he turned away, searching for words. 

“i was trying to get better at it” he admitted “i thought… the reason for why i always feel like i’m dying afterwards is because im tired from battle, or because of something in the environment, or… i just hoped it wasn’t just my fault”

“but-”

“the last time i trained it in safe conditions were still in the fatui facilities. i was young. i thought that now, now that i stopped growing and all, maybe it’d have less of an affect on me. it didn’t. it doesn’t.” 

“we know for a while now that it doesn’t. you know it damn well. why would you-”

“oh for fucks sake!” he interrupted with more energy than in the entirety of the conversation “how would you feel knowing that you have something, you are something every damn army in the world would desire, that you’re supposed to be so special and all, and you can’t even do it right?” his voice was balancing on the fine edge of a cry. “i am nothing more than a simple instrument of war and havoc, and i’m failing at the one thing i’m supposedly good at. i was sent away from home, my father hates me to this day, i spent my teenage years being trained, tested, looked down on, pointed at, sent away as far from my homeland as possible, all for nothing? all for not even being good enough at the one thing that caused it?”

your heart ached. your entire body and spirit ached. you wanted to shout “no” at him, but you couldn’t interrupt something so important, thought heart wrenching.

“ajax, you’re a human being.” you whispered “human beings have boundaries.”

“i have been told i was a monster far too many times to still believe something as naive” he hissed, an unknowing shade of hatred appearing in his eyes. even if it wasn’t directed at you, you still felt small under his piercing gaze. he cleared his throat before coming back to the previous subject. “i… wanted to see how long i could manage. recently i noticed i get tired way easier than i once did when using it, and that the effects last longer. and other than that…” he stopped, looking into your eyes, as if he was searching for your approval to continue. “it’s taking control over me. i get… i get dreams, visions, my face looks different, sometimes a voice in my head starts whispering into my thoughts. it’s terrifying.” 

like hell it was terrifying. just the way he said it made shivers run up your spine. 

“control as in…?” you asked carefully

“as in it’s either going to kill me or make me do it myself” he murmured before practically bursting into tears. you rushed to hug him, feeling your eyes prickle as well, and this time were met with hands embracing your body desperately, pulling you as close as he possibly could, to a suffocating extent. “i don’t want to die yet” he begged in a whisper, making you sob as well. 

you wanted to say something, you had to, but words just wouldn’t come out. 

“fuck, if i was just a little stronger, had just a little more willpower… why do i have to be this pathetic? the unbeatable tartaglia beaten by tartaglia himself! i guess that’s a fitting end to my story”

this was your cue for bringing yourself back up and facing him with a fierce look. 

“you’re not pathetic. and you’re not going to die. you’re by far the strongest person i know, and i know by previous experience you can do anything you set your mind to. you’re the one who always turns problems into challenges, and aren’t challenges what you love the most? if that’s what you fear, then do what you always do and defeat it. and i’ll be there to say you won, just as you always do.” you tried hard to steady your voice and to make it sound confident, even thought you were at the verge of panic. you believed every word you said, but still, even the thought of loosing your love was way too hard for you to bear. “i will turn the world upside down if that’s what i have to do in order to help you, but i will do it. i will do anything to ensure you’re safe. i promise” you said, wrapping your pinkie around his, just like he always does. 

you watched as the violet strings on his face slowly subdued and color returned to his cheeks. 

“you really believe that?” he asked, but it wasn’t at all sarcastic. there was a desperate hope in his voice, a need of reassurance you’ve never seen him show before. 

“i know it” you answered confidently. “i mean, your parents really did look into the future before naming you after a mythical hero”

“a mythical hero who went insane” he argued immediately. 

“well, unless you’re on bad terms with a god like athena then i don’t think that kind of an end awaits you”

“someone has done their reading” it was nice to see humor coming back to him “well, not unless mister zhongli counts”

“isn’t it him who’s on bad terms with you?” you joked carefully, knowing rex lapis’ lie was still a sensitive subject with your boyfriend.

“gods” he chuckled “i must’ve done something really good in my past life to deserve you in this one”

you responded with a smile 

“then i guess we were both once saints”

“what a nice contrast that would make”

so close, so far.

༊…FEATURING;childe. ⇝ CW/TW;basically suicidal thoughts, multiple possible impliedmental illnesses.

liyue has never felt so dull.

your legs shift beneath you, the fabric of your clothing catching on the splinters of wood that stick out from the railing. the wind sifts past you then, a cool breeze that makes goosebumps rise on your skin; desperately chasing warmth. it finds none.

the ground is far, perhaps too close. the cracks in the pavement, oh so subtle, scream at you. memories of moments long ago; the fall of a brick, heavy, easily shattering the concrete. shattering itself in the process. you wonder, just briefly, how easy it’d be to tip over the edge, how simple it would be to do the same—how simultaneously excrutiating but painlessit would feel, making contact with the ground. 

the breeze picks up, much like a warning. the careful slamof the entrance to northland bank feels like a slap to the face—what time is it? what are you doing here? you need to leave, you need to get away before it’s too late, before—

“what are you doing out here, comrade?”

“looking,” the answer comes too quickly as you wave up at the sky.

childe spares only the smallest of glances towards the view; nothing new, liyue always looks like this so early in the morning. he, however, can focus clearly on the intent behind your words—it’s not unfamiliar, the way your voice rises in pitch. he knows why, hell, he knows all too well. looking,you’d said?he grimaces, looking for? looking at? perhaps you’re not really looking at all. 

“hmm.”

you try not to cringe; old habits die hard. childe is as embarrassing as ever.

the distance between the two of you is unfamiliar—always either too close or too far apart, you were. this time, though, he remains at least a few yards away. boundaries have never been spoken of between you two, always too entranced by the other to care; childe wants nothing more than to reach out, hold your hand, hold you tight, and never, everlet go. 

he cannot do that. what he can do, though, is look. that is all childe has been able to do. he can’t remember the last time you’d touched—the last time you’d so much as spared him a glance. he wonders how unexpected it’d be if he were to reach out now; maybe not at all. you know him better than anyone else, anyway. i’m sorry, he wants to say, the moment the sun breaks over the horizon.

he can’t miss the way your eyes gleam so shamelessly under the light; eyes once so bright, a blessing to his own. he wants to see your smile once again—it has been long enough. he may not even carry the rightto drag that out of you, but he wants to try, anyway. anything for you.

you breathe out, a quiet exhale. he looks away.

“i should go.”

this time, he does not speak. although it’s not unexpected, and sure as hell not uncalled for—why would he care, anyway?—his footsteps are slow, languid, more ajax-like than they were only moments prior. they get louder, and louder, and louder, until suddenly his warmth is behind you, a silent kind of question. 

he’s so close. too far. you lean back, subconsciously, burrowing yourself into him. into ajax, childe, tartaglia—whatever he goes by, now. the steady wrapping of his arms around your shoulders is not unwelcome, nor is the pressure of his chin on the top of your head. the way childe hugs, the way he holds, the way he embracesyou..it’s comforting, in a way it should not be.

“don’t go yet.”, he whispers.

don’t go where? you wonder, because where would you go? there is nowhere to be. then, you realize, the ground is so close, there is no one in the street, and that in itself is answer enough. “why?” you ask, because the newfound eleventh harbinger should not care about a local such as yourself. he is not your ajax anymore—no, he’s the tsarita’s faithful servant. he has better things to do, as do you.

the response takes longer than it should; you and childe think horribly alike.

“you can’t leave me alone.”

the breathless laughter, almost sob-ridden, makes your heart race just a little faster than it should. it may have been a while, a while toolong, but childe is no stranger to you. the two of you know that better than anyone; the connection the two of you carried cannot and will not sever itself. even beyond the extent of your lives, it will retain itself towards infinity, however long that may be.

“just a little longer, i promise.”, he adds.

it’s a lie, you think, at the same time his grip tightens around you. it feels like a plea, a beg for mercy, a vulnerability ajax has never shown to anyone but you. you know you cannot accept such a request, you won’t, you shouldn’t; it won’t be just a little longer, you know.childe will become and remain a constant in your life the moment you accept. he will honour the vow he’d taken years ago, won’t let you go the second he has you back. not when you’re like this; simply because, deep down, in that twisted, ugly heart of his—he will always care for you.

perhaps that’s what you need. perhaps it’s what you crave. your hearts have always been just a little too similar.

“okay.”

the hum you receive in response speaks a thousand words. this will not make everything better, no, of course it won’t; what it will do, though, is help you hold on just a little longer. it’s all you have, anyway.

taglist;@izukxnnie !!! join taglist here.

So facebook took down my fb acc (obv) and it was linked to my genshin account and now I can’t get it back which means I can’t go on an adventure in 2.2 with Tartaglia :>

But anyway heres some pics that I took with him on my journey/adventures together

Til next time tali <3

It was nice while it lasted right?

It was nice while it lasted