kaekazu

[kaekazu]

#TJE CUTEST #m.reblogs #OHMYYGOD

[kaekazu]

if u make mpreg + vore jokes ur instantly unfunny idc

[kaekazu]

❱ twilight in fading hues.

. .001 — masterlist 1 2 . .002 — carrd

𖥻 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒; major character death, angst, theyre mourning for you, you die

𖥻 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒; the moonlight has never been more prettier.

𖥻 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒; happy valentines day 🙏🙏😊😊❤️❤️ love all around

ZHONGLI

As the sun rises, so does he, and as the sky mourns, so does he.

A simple man, was Zhongli, though with a past that no man could comprehend, and a past with knowledge that could rival the gold shed off of ancient dragons. He never mourns. A simple man never mourns, don’t they? A simple man never feels vulnerable with a heart of gold and a past of bloodshed, he knew how to mask his own feelings in an attempt-- a desperate attempt to grasp mortal life. He has never been accustomed to the mortal life, as he lived his life as a worshipped being and a God above all; he would live knowing the mortal lives will slip through his fingers as another reminder of the loneliness he was bound to in being a god.

Zhongli was a simple man, at least, that’s what he’d like to perceive. As you laid your eyes on the man in your first meeting, gold amber eyes greeting you, the individual your eyes caught was modest. Though, in your eyes, he was convoluted. Difficult to follow, you spent your months trying to understand the man and his archaic demeanor, you can’t follow the man at times.

That gave you a conclusion-- he was no ordinary human, though humanlike in behavior and in appearance, Zhongli was, undoubtedly, an extraordinary being.

Unlike you, who he grew to cherish despite the mortality he was cursed to endure. He would change it but was not enough of a god to do so, as he was washed away of his godly duties-- no matter how he tries, how he pleads to the gods above that weren’t him-- and maybe, he’d change for you, and you alone.

He takes a step, a shaky breath, as he kneels down to your bruised, yet breathing body. It was only a matter of time fate decided where you’d land. And as calming Zhongli’s fleeting touches were, death’s grip on you seemed to last forevermore. “Look at the sunset with me, Zhongli.” Said you, voice shaky as you lift your hand to caress his cheek, frowning as you felt a tear slip past your palm. “My love, don’t be afraid.” You continued, “The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” No longer was it the moon, the sunset reveals itself to both of you, as the stars mourn.

As the sky mourns, so does he. Gentle tears slip past his golden eyes that you would jokingly remark as stars, “Don’t let the stars mourn for me, my love, I will be a part of them soon.” You assured him. “I love you,” He lets out, “I love you, I love you.” He repeats, each one having a different meaning. “I love you because of you, I love you because you accept me.” He sniffles, connecting your foreheads to each other, hearts beating in sync, though one pauses right after.

He takes a breath, and you let out your last.

“I love you, I’ll say hello to the stars for you.” He feels your hand go limp on his, and the sky never mourned that much with such volume that sunset evening.

KAEYA

The last hope of Khaenri’ah has dealt with grief far too often-- he treats it as his second in command. He treats you the same, loving touches, soft, yet fleeting, cold, and tender hands grazing your skin every single time, and you know he has not experienced such love in his life until he met you. Elegant in approach and clandestine in speech, you easily caught the eye of the Cavalry Captain. Needless to say, you swayed with malignance and grace, somehow, always in the arms of mystery.

You were a trinket shrouded in gold, and golden trinkets are to be washed away in the hands of time, though, Kaeya would beg to differ. He would describe you as his, hands interlocked, laughing at the starry night or at the clearest of waters, hearts beating alongside each other without any care to the world, nor the prying eyes that swirled with jealousy. He hated himself, his past, how naive he was back then to be exposed to such cruelty. Though, he knows that an upbringing like this shall make his demise even more picturesque. The lone prince of Khaenri’ah, falling in love with what he should deem as his enemy, quite a spectacular sight, no?

It was all amusing to you, as one who envisions the death of many, and one who perceived you were not worthy of love. You who committed such grave sins that were only punishable by death itself, dancing in the arms of mystery and grandeur, yet now, you seem to be dancing in the arms of a sinner. You lay back on the stale grass, allowing it to tickle your cheeks as the ground welcomed you. You were laughing, something you thought you were never permitted to do, yet as it seems, in the City of Freedom, you have been stripped off of your duties.

So now, now, why does he despise the ground you lay in now? Why does he despise the red decorating the blades of grass caressing your skin as you choked out a cough, further tainting the grass with the blood in your system? He was holding you as you smiled, (stop smiling, he’d like to say, though, it was the same smile that made him feel such cherish in his life), Azure eyes holding back tears, in which you frowned upon seeing. “My love,” You said, voice breaking as you swallowed back any blood threatening to leave your mouth. Your chest heaved, your pupils dilated as you witnessed the composure of the Cavalry Captain slowly break upon seeing your bruised body.

You were going to die. You both know that, but there’s a pinch of denial resting on Kaeya’s heart, the same spot where he decided to be vulnerable. “I don’t like tears staining your face, darling. You have so much color than I ever would have.” You smiled, knowing he’d pass on after you, “At least, smile for me. We would pass on together.” He’d respond by intertwining your fingers one last time, “You bring so much color to my life, my love.” Letting out a weak chuckle, “The blood tainting your cheeks makes it so hard for me to decipher whether you are blushing.” He sighed, planting a kiss on your lips, “The color only I know you could bring to my cheeks, it must be some sort of power, no?” He watches as your eyes flicker to his star-shaped pupils, then to his hair, but before you could speak, he left your mouth agape. “Such color can only come from the sun alone, as I am the moon, you are what blinds me to such feeble emotions.” Sudden tenderness washes over you, and Kaeya’s tears finally began to flow. Crystals of overflowing, endless regret stains your arm, mixing with your blood as you uttered, “And us, bound together?” You questioned, your voice finally breaking amidst the wind that caresses both your skin, “That makes us an eclipse, then, doesn’t it?” And both of you breathed, the oxygen entering your lungs for a tainted soul one last time.

Perhaps this sunset was a normal day for others, but for Mondstadt’s history, a binding vow between two lovers has been created. A sinner, and another, one could only imagine the weight that was put onto the Archon’s arms as he witnessed two lovers in each others’ arms before their final breaths.

ALBEDO

Swearing to Rhinedottir would he ever fall for a mortal being such as you. Divine and heavenly, you knew your way with your arms and your hands, playing with life’s blessings and treasuring the worst things known to man. You amused him more than any other being did, and to him, you were nothing short of godly. Though the gods looked at you with fervor, he looked at you with regard and mutual respect. The smile that occupies your face as you look at him, and the slight shiver you give him as you whisper sweet nothings in his ear that would lull him to sleep.

And each time you two were apart, there shines your true self, being a fragment of only one could imagine a discarded god, its remains fading, and you knew, you’d fade away too. As bits and pieces fall from your form to your hands, a reminder of the limited time you were graced with as you were created in this world-- a synthetic being, you are, though cursed with mortality and an antagonizing reminder to your limited time in this earth. And as Albedo lived far too long than human life, yours, however, is only fleeting to the eyes of the artificial being you grew fond of.

He views you as a mortal soul, godly temperament flowing from your veins, yet he, as well, seemed to have no hint of the fleeting lifespan of yours, and the indescribable feeling of betrayal he will feel in the coming years. It was only a matter of time until he feels your skin caress his cheek one last time, as you fade away, with your name as a memory. It brings a slight curve to your lips, sun kissing your skin as you rested on the palm of your lover. Though, as the days come, and as your skin crumbles, the imaginary pieces begin to bring themselves together to reveal to Albedo the picturesque demise that will occur.

He doesn’t try to stop it, you were thankful for that, as he knows you have accepted your death and short-lived lifespan. And at least, he’d appreciate you and your efforts after you’ve passed. He was incredibly interested in you as he first met you, and you, too. Fleeting touches turned into prolonged cradles, soft words spoken to each other as both synthetic beings felt emotion they weren’t made to feel.

Synthetic beings are not only for show but for a breakthrough, should they ever feel human emotion makes them a failed experiment, and, well, both of you have nothing to lose, so why not deem yourselves as one? Love is a vehement emotion unable to allow mercy to infiltrate itself, and it seems it has proved itself so. And in this play of impenetrable doom, you two are those deemed as lovers in the hands of time. He cradles your face, cracks clouding your skin as you gave him the softest smile you could muster, and as you break similarly to glass, his soul shatters inside. You shifted your body, Albedo stiffening as he gently takes your hand in his. “Would you take my hand? It’s the only one that isn’t cracking.” Your melodic voice reached his ears, and as he saw the desperation in your eyes, he couldn’t help but comply. “Good, yes, thank you.” A remnant of a God should not feel such emotions, yet you, he thinks, crossed the border between gods and mortals. A sophisticated being in which emotions are out of their grasp, foreign, as they are only to be curious upon peculiar things, and that, is not you.

He thought you were blessed with such intelligence by your creator, though after, he has learned that you, too, are to vanish off the mortal realm after your owner dies.

Some may assume he would go out of his way to retrieve your soul and possibly halt your passing. He does not. As curious and as interesting he found nature, he could not stop it, nor could he hinder its consequences. He lets a shaky hand rest on your torso, “You,” He breathed out, “You’re the only proof I need.” Proof that he could feel, to be human. You cracked a chuckle at that, ironically, finally going limp in Albedo’s warm embrace. Time was ticking, never on your side, and you knew that all too well. And as he thought, your hand caresses Albedo’s cheek one last time, and uttering a simple, “Time has been so cruel to us. I’ll await you,” On the next life. It may take too long, as Albedo were to remain on Teyvat for far longer, he cannot forget a name such as yours, nor could he forget such glee he felt, though only fleeting.

DILUC

As shut in as he may seem, he allows vulnerability to course through his veins, although concealed at best. He could never fight the fond smile that seems to make its way to his lips, stained with praises and overflowing misery he was never fond of voicing out. The same lips that scowl when Kaeya barges in his tavern, uninvited. The same lips that smile on yours upon exhibiting such love others may find private, yet to both of you, it’s the same love you both sense in each other’s eyes. Such adoration swells and mixes themselves in his irises, and you never fail to notice them. You cradle him with such compassion and value, Diluc ever wonders if you have done the same for others. It was uncharacteristic of him to ponder too much on such a simple, yet gentle action, however, the man seems to be coming back for more. You don’t mind, of course, you don’t.

He knew to yearn for a love deemed fleeting would disappoint him as he goes on, he knew he would lose you as the years push through, and that is what he’s most afraid of. Diluc was never a man with an uncrackable facade, and even with speculation, the assumption would fade away if his eyes ever land on you. He never wanted to let you go, and he knew that you felt the same. He thinks of you like a ruby, glimmering with crimson and life flowing through your veins, a gem he grew to cherish, even when tarnished with the same blood that landed on his hands all those years ago.

Never again, he murmurs, but even so, the gods won’t heed his plea. As much as he didn’t want to mind, such crippling thoughts make their way to his pretty little head, though, as all was said and done, he comes back to you, longing for your lingering and soft touches against his battered form.

What would he do without you? He murmurs against your flushed skin, a savoring, intimate moment for lovers. “Nothing, my love.” You retort, a soft gasp leaving your mouth. “You are correct.” His voice reverberates through your flesh, “not a damn thing without you.” And as your escapades blend in through the night, Diluc forever found his reason to live. Not for his business, and for retribution whatsoever, though persistent; he started to believe.

Diluc was never a serious man with you. How much emotion you have in store in your heart, bursting with life and with love, melted the facade of Diluc’s seemingly impenetrable form. Your love, so vehement and authentic, engulfed the man in flames-- ironically-- and even then, his heart melted into something he could only thank you for. He couldn’t even look at you without fondness mixed into his crimson eyes, Kaeya would applaud you for tolerating a man as closed-off as he. Mutual respect was shared between the two of you, and you have made Kaeya’s visits to the tavern a bit more enjoyable. (Not that he would say out loud, though as Diluc smiles every so often was enough to answer Kaeya’s notions).

He refuses to believe he’d start a life with you, although that’s all he would ever dream of occasionally, as you ready yourself to make him his favorite snack, he would have the urge to grab you by the waist and lead you to his chest. He wanted a reality in which you two are betrothed to each other, a pen betwixt your fingers as you furrow your eyebrows in clear frustration. Diluc longs for a reality in where you are in it, carefree and content. Diluc cherishes you vehemently and authentically, and you were a part of him as he was a part of you.

“Hi,” your sweet voice snaps him off of his daydreams. As much as he begs the gods to let him be selfish one more time-- even if it was the last, he swore he witnessed one throw his heart so carelessly onto the ground, bleeding, twitching as if it was begging for help, and he could no longer scream, for his nightmares blended in with his reality. “You no longer need to do anything for me, Diluc.” You uttered, a soft smile landing on your face, eyes of contemplation tracing his form, and he thinks, he wants to do everything for you. Anything, anything to bring you back to his arms, not bloody or bruised, but soft and gentle.

Diluc is a very patient man.

But as time passes by, he no longer wants to wait for time to be with you again. Diluc was only a patient man when with you. “Wait for me, my love, Diluc,” You gasped, taking your last breaths as you felt your lover’s hand tremble in your grip. You were a safe haven, all that Diluc’s ever felt with you was no short of tranquility and fondness. Though, as unexpected things were, you were destined to be affected by the growing abyss that leads to your downfall. “Stay with me, please.” He begs, he begs to you, to the heavens, to the gods who could only watch with pity, “Please, please, please, please--”

“Let me go, you’re a hero, aren’t you?” involuntarily, he grabbed your hand even tighter, though you paid no mind. Diluc felt your blood trickle against his skin, to his clothes, though he didn’t care, he didn’t. Cradling his face oh-so softly and tenderly, Diluc began to crack. Tears flooding his eyelashes, falling on his cheeks and to your bloodstained fingers, you connected your heads together, “If I pass, I’ll remain with you, forever and always. Wait, my dear. You’ll be with me, side by side, soon enough.” You wiped a stray tear from his face, and mustering all the strength you have left, kissed him gently.

Diluc Ragnvindr always had a fiery heart and resolve, but as your hand slides off of his own, the flames in his heart are unquenchable for as long as you are gone.

DAINSLEIF

“Excuse me.” Those two words are what bonded you together. As you wandered throughout the world with treasured information or anything of value, you were sure to stumble upon unknowing townsfolk every now and then, however, this man to you, was no short of mysterious.

The blond man piqued your interest after your first interaction, though, through his eyes, were full of bloodlust and violent intent, that much you could decipher. He was mysterious, arcane in movement, speech, and in mind. Often, you had to unravel his thoughts as a prized collection, comical sparkles adorning your head as soon as you make sense of his words. However, the man knew, as long as you are attached to him, and as he, you, your fate was already sealed, guaranteed in death. Dainsleif never wanted that, he never wanted to be selfish, though his own actions betray his own morals. And even then, you would come in, unintentionally prohibiting the man from ever reaching his goals. And as unconscious was he in his movements, oftentimes he would find himself swaying in the beauty of danger, forever implanting a ticking time bomb on his heart, and at any given moment, allowing him to relish in the moment of anguish, loss, and a myriad of emotions that a stranded man as he shall ever experience in a fleeting moment, just as long as you were within him. This was one of such things he shall long for, and one of such things that happiness can only provide, a fleeting moment of tranquility, and an everlasting moment in his memory.

The Abyss Order was never at fault for Celestia’s wrongdoings, as their leader was against Celestia and its heavenly creations thereof. Though, as his resent of the Abyss grows stronger each passing day, there was no doubt that in the deepest, most profound spaces in his heart, he would long to take you with him, even after time passes and when space collides. You knew better than what he perceived. It was only a matter of time, where star-crossed lovers shall meet their demise, though, one shall walk the earth alone with grief and shattered dreams nestled amongst the depths of their soul.

You dread, such a day and such an experience, as though you do not know if you are leaving or will be left.

You lay on the grass tarnished with your blood, and although you know you were to pass, for the first time, Dainsleif does not accept change. Though he may have resented the Gods for what they have done to his nation, and the Abyss Order inflicting as many problems in the world that Dainsleif was cursed to endure, a fatal blow to his immortality that those he deemed as comrades have no less turned into vile creatures. You couldn’t let your life go, he knows. He knows the persistence you show in surviving, the persistence he once fell in love with, but as he softly smiles at you, it’s time to let go.

“Do you know about the tale of Achilles and Patroclus?” You suddenly blurted out, and he remembers, that you are not of this world. As he was entrapped within his thoughts, falling in love with a being otherworldly, and focused on shielding you from the dangers of his own home, he realizes, he can love. “No, I have not.” He heaved out, and you smiled, and he leans. “They were incredibly good friends, but really, they were lovers.” Your eyes closed, and you heaved a breath, mustering the voice all you had left. “Achilles wanted his own ashes to be mixed with Patroclus’” You turn to face him, a flame ignited in your eyes, as you two lock gazes, and Dainsleif clutched your bruised wrist softly, gently, as always he was with you. “No need to rush, my love. I’m not going anywhere.” You breathed out, you were always one for sarcasm, he noted.

“Did Achilles ever get his wish granted?” He asks, “I am… not sure.” You meekly responded, coughing up more blood, alerting Dainsleif as he tried to stop it. “Dainsleif, Dain, lovely, my love… stop.” You hesitantly remarked, bloodshot eyes trailing over his form as he looks over to you in contemplation and anguish. Dainsleif has always has been a man of few words yet unending emotions, a man cursed with Man’s greatest wish, yet seems to be the most miserable amongst the world of humans.

You smiled, you were weakening, and you knew you were going to pass soon. Dainsleif holds you, crystal tears dropping onto your form, he has noticed too, that life began to fade from your eyes.

“If.. ever I were to come back, and we cross paths, I will fall in love with you. If I was given the opportunity to love again, I would choose you.”

You passed with a smile on your face, a smile he loved so much as the present became the memories he grew to treasure, as an immortal being only lives in tranquility if they seem to feel.

And you made him feel.

He loved you as Patroclus loved Achilles, as melancholy loved memory, and as curiosity loved the unknown. He loved you as you loved him, a soul of another from a distant world and a soul doomed to walk the soil of this earth. Two lovers who met by mere coincidence, and two lovers who, unknowingly, made each other forever undone.

2022 © kachuuyaa. do not steal or claim my work as your own.

[kaekazu]

search www.kachuuya.com …!

search results . . . welcome 2 . . . niko’s den

❥ top result....

— for those who enjoy my work and are friends with me, i made a server where we could all communicate and talk about our interests, and potentially make new friends!

— this took 2 months to develop LOL idk how but it did

— don't be afraid to talk! the people there are lovely and I assure you would provide great company :)

— you can talk about anything, though make sure to read the rules!

❥ you may also like....

— server preview . . .

— if you wish to apply for staff, hang on there, the sheet is still being made!

conclusion :: server link !

https://discord.gg/FzWJzVvz8H

[kaekazu]

I hope it’s still up! Could I request an reincarnated reader? Perhaps reader whose apathetic at their situation, and somehow accidentally bumping onto Fyodor.

Headcanons with crack, thanks! Hope you have a great day. (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

Hello there! Wow, we’re starting strong with this one! I really like the trope of a reincarnated character who’s just apathetic and bored about it by now. I’m a bit afraid I completely failed writing crack with this though, and went with a villain arc story instead (kinda)- I hope it’ll be fine nonetheless!

Thank you for requesting! I hope you will like it!! :)

Pairing: Fyodor x reincarnated!gn!reader

Word count: ~1,4k

Resume: Fyodor meeting a reader whose ability is reincarnation.

Genre: headcanons

Warnings: mention of dying (multiple reincarnations), none?

I put a cut because it's long!

You learned about your ability a long while ago, many decades from the time you now lived in. It all started when you first died, only to wake up what seemed a second after. Only you were in a different body, in a different country, and you were, undoubtedly, a whole different person.

Your confusion was cleared on your second death. By now you’d understood that the cause of your constant reincarnations must be this gift some called ability that you must possess. While some people could turn into majestic beasts, alter the course of time and the limits of physics, yours only worked on the moment of your death.

Sometimes you’d wake up in a new-born’s body, and it would take you years to remember your past lives. Sometimes, you’d wake up in the body of someone on the verge of death, and took their place into life.

You must admit that it was fun, the first six times. You were quite reckless by then, and died many very stupid deaths, almost making it some kind of competition with yourself. There were no consequences to your actions, as you would just wake up again, a few days or decades after your last death.

You’ve seen a lot; historical events and the evolution of technology, society’s changes and revolutions. For a while, you even occupied positions of power, ruling the world’s flow with all the knowledge your many previous lives granted you. Often, you’d gotten assassinated, only to start over right away. It was an extraordinary life you led, one that could have radically changed the world.

However, there was a downfall to all that, and that was the unsatiable boredom that crept inside your chest as the decades went by.

The whole of humanity was, after all, driven by something you could never be granted. They advanced so fast, shone so brightly, only to escape the thought of death. As it was its end, death was, for your pairs, the ultimate god and the greatest of enemies. But how could you understand that, you whom death couldn’t touch?

There was, ultimately, no value in your life, because you knew you’d just start again somewhere. Moreover, you’ve seen so many people pass away around you, family and friends from previous existences, that everything now seemed dull.

You were at this point of your life as you led another one of your existences. You’d recently moved to Yokohama to start new and forget about the police organization chasing you from the other end of the globe. You’ve collected quite a lot of sensitive secrets over the decades, and now used them to make easier money in this life.

Your last reincarnation was very short lived; you woke up in a Russian hospital, only to see it blow up in fire a few minutes later. It was hard to forget the face you saw outside, just before the explosion. It’s been around four years by now, but you swore to yourself, would you even find this person again, you’d let them know a piece of your mind.

Well, in the end, that quite worked for you. You only woke up a few months later in another body, one that healed quite quickly after that, and just went on with life from there. But still, it was annoying to see how short your lives could be.

You were utterly bored. Boredom made you unsufferable and reckless, and you already had your fair share of troubles while coming to this new city.

You quickly became an important piece in the underground world, selling information that not even the current leaders of this country could have known, sharing the secrets of hidden treasures and immense wealth.

It was quick before several organization’s leaders started to have their eyes on you.

You were not particularly hard to find, nor trying to stay low. Would you die, you’d just wake up and start where you left.

But, over those years, you’d kept your secret quite well, so this imprudence mostly seemed like naiveness to some, and an aggressive display of power to others.

You were, in fact, just an extremely bored former student with many debts and unhealthy sleeping patterns.

Quite the odd threat to the people that kept watch over you, including Mori Ougai, Francis Fitzgerald, and, well, Fyodor Dostoyevsky.

You bumped into the man by what seemed to be an accident, when it was all planned by the Russian mastermind.

He placed a device on your clothes, to finally understand where you found such valuable intel.

However, he was not expecting that’d you stop in the middle of the street, and seem to recognize him. There was no chance you’d seen him before, no?

Remember this Russian hospital that blew up on your last life?

Yes.

You had the strangest reaction, grabbing his sleeve and exclaiming, finally recognizing this face from years ago: “Oh my god, it’s you!”

You had the most annoyed tone anyone could ever muster.

Then, you practically proceed to scold him for blowing up this building four years ago.

“Do you know how fucking annoying that is, to wake up, only to find yourself discarded in shreds a minute after? Couldn’t you have done that another day? Oh my god, I’m so done with people like you!”

After getting your heart off, you left him in the middle of the street.

Succeeding in leaving a very confused Fyodor, my congratulations to you.

You just get back to your bored self after that, just content you could give a piece of your mind with the person responsible for such a short-lived reincarnation. This was, after all, a rare occasion.

Fyodor is astonished.

Who are you? How could you know about that? He made sure not to leave any witness, or so he thought.

With your words, he starts elaborating several scenarios. One of them is that your ability makes you extremely resistant to any type of injury, and another one on the topic of a reincarnation power. However, he does finds it very unlikely.

After this unfortunate encounter, the Russian mastermind will put you under surveillance. He’ll also redo a thorough background check-up, and try to find any possible connection between you and this Russian city from years ago.

The thing is, you never went to Russia.

However, he did found out you were involved in a serious accident exactly four years ago, leaving you unconscious for months, and apparently amnesic as you woke up.

Don’t ask how he was able to extort the medical records from this time, but he did find out your first words were in Russian, about some fire that blew up.

From this point, it’s not hard for Fyodor to connect the dots, and find some of your previous identities through time.

This short-lived president from decades ago? This nearly forgotten writer? Leader of a failed revolution? All you.

He’s pretty sure to be the first one to discover all of this. From now on, you could be a valuable asset, or someone to get rid of. The only issue is that killing you would put him in danger, as there’s no chance to know where or when you’d reincarnate again.

But if he can turn you to his side? You’re the perfect candidate. You’re able to die and start new without any trace of your previous existence, and carry decades of valuable knowledge.

Who knows all the secrets you hold? Maybe you’ll be the last key to find the Book.

You have no idea what you just landed into, because this man will track you down.

Ultimately, you’ll bump into him again and again, until the point where you’ll find the Russian man in your own home, casually sitting on your couch as he unravels your whole life’s history and previous reincarnations.

You sarcastically applauded him, unimpressed by the man’s intelligence. Of course, he was truly remarkable, but there wasn’t any care left in your bones anymore.

That is, until he offered you the following proposition:

“I can promise you, at the end of this path, the termination of your boredom.”

Really? Should you take that as a last challenge? It’s not like you had anything to lose anyway, right?

That’s how you took on his offer.

#THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD #oh my god #Reincarnation abilityyyyyu iiiii ammmmnlooking very hard! #mai reblogs?!

[kaekazu]

Caged birds

Hello there!

I don’t see as many Nikolai content as I’d like, so here is some more of our favorite clown. I hope you will enjoy!

This work is inspired by Jodorowski's quote 'Birds born in a cage think flying is an illness.'

This is a Nikolai fiction, and the other counterpart, gender-neutral, is written in they/them pronouns. I wrote this seeing them as both Fyodor or anyone else you’d like! This can be viewed as a Nikolai x Fyodor/whoever or Nikolai x gn!reader work. :)

Word count: ~1,3k

Resume: In the midst of Moscow’s winter, caged birds can still hope to fly.

Genre: one-shot

Warnings: alcohol and smoking.

I put a cut since it's long!

He looked up at the dying sun and for a moment everything felt like bliss.

The pale-haired man stopped walking, his gloved hand resting on the guardrail of the bridge. His soft gaze wandered around, taking upon the sight of the tall red towers in the distance, the hurl of the wind, the frost settling on his lips, and this beautiful, cold winter. Gogol closed his eyes for a minute, mind distracted by the constant chattering of the tourists around him, endless flow of languages and cameras hurrying around the vast city of Moscow. This was all so different from the small, quiet village he took his first breath in. He was far from this place now; still somewhere in eastern Europe, only a border away. Yet it was not the same winter he now found his solace into; and his soft, content smile, was no longer that of the innocent man he used to be.

Oh what a bliss, to be caged in this vast city. As he opened his eyes, the young man fondly observed the Kremlin so near, the sea of unknown faces, the police scattered around, vigilant eyes towering over the well-being of almighty Russia. How little would it take, for anyone to shake all of this down? Was there any mind on this earth great enough to send this winter into flames? For a second, he saw this city free from its chains, full of terror, of fire and snow, a city plunged into chaos and the most primal state known to the humankind. Should it take a tragedy to set it all free?

His smile deepened. He adjusted the overcoat around his shoulders, wide, strong arms protecting his chest against the cold. Should it really take a tragedy to set himself free? To what lengths would he have to go to prove his unshakable, absolute freedom? The cold wind hit his reddened cheeks, making the tourists around him whimper in their warm, thick coats. What place was there for life in a winter like this? Such a peculiar city he witnessed.

Gogol observed the faces around him, his back facing the Moskva. Children and worried parents, lone travellers, groups of dozens and pickpockets. In a few hours, they would be all tucked in their homes and hostels, leaving this street to silence and all the misfits who never saw the day.

The strong smell of coffee laced with alcohol hit his nostrils, and the Ukrainian man turned his head towards a figure next to him, gloved hands pouring more than a shot of liquor in the steaming beverage. A slight smirk adorned his lips as he took out one of his cigarettes, lighting it back to the wind and taking long, deep breaths, the steam coming from his lips now laced with smoke. Everyone had their way to confront the winter. The burning sensation settling in his throat was one of them.

Nikolai took an amused glance at the cup warming the stranger’s hands. It was a big one, with a lot of alcohol too. How could such a body handle all of it? He towered above them, like he usually did with most people. Everyone had always seemed like small, fragile birds in his eyes. After a while, and noticing the figure did not move despite the freezing air around them, the pale-haired man finally took a step forward. How unusual was it, in this place, for a stranger to reach out to one another in this tone? Given the surprised look he received, this person was no exception.

“Hello hello! Mind if I take a sip?”

Startled eyes widened a bit more at his question, his gloved finger pointing to the cup they held close to their chest. He was prepared to hear a few words of refusal, or for this person to walk away, but an ecstatic expression made its way to his eyes when the stranger met his gaze, a simple movement of their chin pointing to the cigarette he was holding.

“Sure, if you lend me one.”

Gogol reached into his coat, taking out the cigarettes and lighter he was carrying before presenting them to the stranger. They took it, giving him their cup in return, before lighting one of the sticks while slightly turning their head, avoiding the wind. Giving back the small case, they took a smoky breath, looking up at the man with a clear, curious gaze. He did the same, slightly smiling at the feeling of coffee and vodka down his throat, the beverage warming his chest much quicker than his overcoat.

He kept the cup in his hand, eyes wandering around him, then back to the silhouette smoking by his side. They seemed so calm, used to the harsh winter. Thick coat around their frame, a heavy, knitted scarf tightly tied around their shoulders. Their gloved hands hovered above it, searching some more warmth into the rough wool. Gogol handed them back the cup, and they took it, sighing in relief with the warm contact.

“Thanks.”, he spoke.

They simply nodded, observing him with inquisitive eyes. He looked like any other men here, a bit stranger perhaps, with his easy smile and shimmering eyes. Despite his built, they didn’t seem to be anxious around him, handing him back the cup after they took a sip, like he was an old friend. He took it, thanking them with a nod.

He stayed like this in silence, sipping the sour beverage before handing it back, smoking endlessly and taking back the cup that emptied by the minutes. It was when he noticed the flow of people starting to thicken that he spoke again, amused smile at the brink of his lips.

“What bliss must it be, to wander around this city without a thought.”

“You know, birds born in a cage think flying is an illness.”

His eyes widened at the response, head slowly turning back to observe the smaller stranger next to him. They took a sip from the cooling cup, eyes focused on the mass of tourists before turning back to his, a small and dry smile adorning their lips, the first he ever saw.

“And yet, they strive for it, because it’s their natural state.”

Gogol found himself wordlessly nodding, taking back the recipient they handled him. For a minute he stayed silent, processing the stranger’s words, a glimpse of blue in this grey winter. Must it be possible, to meet anyone who shared the same views? Did they also realized that people were such as birds, caged beings waiting for their release?

He took a step closer, helping the peculiar silhouette to light up their cigarette again, but not stepping back. His gaze stayed focused into their eyes. Curious, light eyes, shimmering with a spark of hope, something close to belonging.

“What should birds do, then, to break off their cage?”

The stranger’s eyes bore into his, a gaze so alluring he found himself startled by its intensity. A small, amused smirk adorned their frozen lips, pale cheeks tinted with mischief and the alcohol’s warmth.

“There is no real cage. Merely walls of glass.”

He gave them a confused look.

For a minute, he noticed the newfound aura the stranger seemed to carry, something majestic into the fragility he suspected from their body. There was something immense in their eyes, an understanding so vast he found himself holding his breath, absolute solace filling his soul as they pronounced those words, voice hoarse and deep with smoke and winter:

“For birds to start flying again, they must jump together.”

#bro. bro. bro. bro #HOLYYYYSHIT #HWLWWLW #W #OWOO #mai reblogs?!

[kaekazu]

— Ozymandias

11102021 , sagau , ficlet , gn!reader

genre ; sagau….??? angst???? action???

includes ; VIOLENCE, murder, blood, literally a fucking bloodhouse or something u also are sick in the head in this

synopsis ; Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away.

author’s notes ; me while writing this: 🐶 👺 (also i referred reader as ‘he/him’ bc thats usually the go to pronouns when talking about divine beings)

Cursed in this wretched land that no one welcomed you in, you walk within the soil that was befitting for the damned, the preposterous, and the outcasts. How wretched, they say, how cruel of you to commit such a sin! They scream at your face, how dare you commit such blasphemy, whispers of your name, uttering such vile words to your form, about a creator. Creator of what? This wretched world, a world so loathsome that they dare disrespect a divine being as you in their stead? How impious! How unholy! You laugh, and you cackled about how naive you were, how you let such atrocious hands and filthy mouths utter your name in such disrespect, treating you as a lowlife for committing a sin you were cursed to be oblivious to. Aware of such hatred, unpalatable, and execrable loath for you, they regarded you as the devil himself, all the while having never been blessed by the god they ridicule you for impersonating as, they were ludicrous, more so in actions, you realized.

The three present archons you grew to cherish throughout your life in Teyvat behind a screen were now the base of your rancor. Managing a nation was no easy feat, and they proved that so. The Creator never blessed any nation, never showed himself behind anyone, and never once regarded his creations so proudly, how else would he have disappeared for many a millennium if the god was appalled at his own malignant people? The gods have no manners, as well, proven by their painstakingly obvious resentment for an innocent being like you.

Well, then, so be it. If they think of you as an impostor, your golden blood that proved itself to be godlike on its own shall motivate you to perform in their stage of violence. If they resent you for being such, shall your blade be coated by their blood oh-so scarlet, subservient compared to yours, written in the scriptures and praised by many, a vial of your ichor would make millions bow in recognition and veneration. “Your Highness,” a familiar utter of your now-accepted title came from your left, and you glared them down in recognition.

After being chased by such dirty, filthy, worthless beings from each nation led you to where your nightmares became dreams, the Abyss, Khaenri’ah, as they call it. The fallen nation that was once a paradise, destroyed many years ago, by the Gods you used to love, yet now resent, for the prejudice you have suffered under their hands of godly worth and divine anomaly. Now, then, for what they have done to you, shall you deliver your punishment tenfold?

Certainly. How sweet shall vengeance be if drowning in the sea of saccharine, red, ichor? You turned your back on your subject, raising your pointer finger, “Speak.” And they did, a tiny, terrified squeak left their mouth, before saying, “The search for you hath not faltered once, even posterior to your disappearance.” You let out an amused scoff, causing your already terrified subordinate to feel a sense of horror coursing through their veins. “Well, we cannot do a thing in retaliation, can we?” Your voice mocked their potential thoughts, “Send a Ruin Grader in my stead. We shall fuel their despair and their anger towards me.” It will be fun, wouldn’t it? For a man who so loved the world turned against him, and for retribution, morals do not prevent such atrocious outcomes. Your reporter scurried away, all the while keeping your image in their mind. They just met the creator, who wouldn’t? And regarded them as a civil citizen, rather than an enemy to be eliminated upon first glance, no less. It was rare of you to do so.

So a Ruin Grader was presented to you after a short while, its metal fresh, and its twinkling eye far from safe, though, as it faced you, beeped in recognition as it kneeled and offer a hand for you to sit on. Inspecting its hand for any dirt, you let out a huff, sharp eyes locked onto the killer machine. You sat down, your subjects worried as the Ruin Grader held you with such gentleness, surprising even the greatest of Alchemists who devoted their life into taming a Ruin Grader, proving themselves worthless in your eyes. “Oh?” You quirked a brow, fixing your legs on its hand, waving your fingers, a gesture to say that you have dismissed your subjects. “Now, now, big boy, send me to northern Wolvendom, would you?” It complied, there, you were, in all your divinity, such bloodlust in the eyes of the Ruin Grader, while yours, full of amusement at their protests.

You stood up, brushing nonexistent dust off of your clothes, soaked in dried, red blood from who knows where. Eyes bored and impassive to the many rioters on your feet, screaming blasphemy to unknowingly, the god they praise so much.

How dare you impersonate the Divine Creator?!

One shouts, making you turn your bloodthirsty eyes on them, and they stilled. You could hear the faint whisper of pleas to your right, the voice so familiar-- ah, is that Jean, you hear? Letting a smirk paint your bruised and battered face, eyes as sweet and condescending, you held a dagger. Now, those people who dare speak your name in vain would now fall silent to your blade, as you raised your left arm, grin far from faltering, and slit it, much to the horror, or the surprise, to other people.

“You foolish mortals.” Your voice reverberated across the forest, tensing the Mondstadt citizens as they watch your glistening, lavish, golden blood drip across your chest to the ground, plants sprouting as your divine ichor lashed onto the soil of the fallen. You threw the dagger forward and watched as terrified, yet imprudent citizens chase after your touch and your blood-coated dagger. Surely, your blood is worth all the Mora in the world, no? “How injudicious,” Wickedly, you raised your hand to snap your fingers, and the sound of violence landed a sickly sweet smile land upon your lips in satisfaction. Now, pine-colored grass was littered with blood, almost recoloring the entire forest as you decapitated the heads of many. You said you would punish them tenfold, wouldn’t you? And even after your blood coated the grass, and the soil, you shall never allow such saccharine to be in the hands of such worthless beings, never in the decayed hands of the living who dared destroy your seraphic form. Golden blood littered the floor and some littered the Ruin Grader who stilled at the bloodshed, and the absentee Archon whose eyes now quivering at the very sight of your precious blood by a heavy, impactful cut whose fault is your own. “You are not our creator,” Jean yelled, “Despite having such heavenly blood, and the face of perfection, you are not Their Majesty!” Raising her blade, you let out a smile, eyes keen at their revelation.

They stilled. Agitated at your change of heart, they immediately regretted their actions. You were the creator. You were real, you were no impostor, which explained your cluelessness at their revelation. And with the divine power you hold, you shall let them feel an agony much worse than they did you. “You have no right to speak to me like that, fucking bitch.” You sneered, grin morphing into a frown. You could hear their hearts pounding, and that made you think, whose heart shall you steal for your own entertainment? Surely, their heart would make a good display on your desk, wouldn’t it? “Barbatos, so ignorant. Why did you show such feelings of resentment towards me? Your Creator, hm?” You smiled sardonically, walking off of the Ruin Grader’s hand with no hassle, and Barbatos felt a force push him down, and he had no choice but to kneel.

Words of sweet apologies mixed with bitter emotions flow out of his form and his words, the carefree archon now succumbed to despair. He can’t pray to any gods, for the god he was incredibly devoted to, turn into the manifestation of his nightmares. Incoherent apologies spill out of his quivering lips, apologies that you didn’t care all too much to hear. So, you kneeled down at his level, taking his petrified face onto your right hand, gently cupping his cheeks. “Poor baby,” You cooed, and for a second the fear that he felt-- that you caused diminished as he felt safe in your touch. Sensing his warmth, you scowled almost immediately and slapped his face.

Good. He deserved it. Barbatos did not believe your obliviousness, and only did he as he observed your beautiful, heavenly blood trickle down your skin condescendingly. You were the God of gods, Ruler of Everything, and the source of all empyrean things. You were seraphic, washed off of any sin, for the only sin you shall commit was to end your regime as the Almighty Creator. Shaky eyes and quivering lips let out a disheveled breath, hearing you cackle imperiously while eyeing the rest of the knights.

Oh, and also Diluc. He was also there. Eh, anyway.

“Your Grace!” Jean screamed, oh, how fast they switch their morals to receive a blessing from a god, and one they wronged too much no less. “Do not call me that.” You clicked your tongue, waving your hand in dismissal as Diluc agitates at your harsh voice. “I sincerely--”

“Shut the fuck up.” You were despotic, not as pulchritudinous as you were before, blessing every living thing in your wake with a swift flick of your wrist. “‘Your Grace’ is dead.” You smiled sinisterly, “Who am I, you ask?”

A dark chuckle slips past your saccharine lips, coated with your own blood.

“Well, refer to me as Ozymandias, King of Kings,” You stretched out your arms as golden blood drips on the floor, all the while greeting the frightened faces of those remaining.

Look on My destruction, ye mighty, and despair.

“Bringer of destruction and lifeless bloodshed.”

2021 © kachuuyaa. do not steal or claim my work as your own.

[kaekazu]

Hey, how about chasing ghosts with Nikolai? Maybe fluff with spooky vibes?! Thanks a lot!

FINALLY a Nikolai request! I almost started this blog for this man (in case its title didn’t gave that away-).

Thank you for requesting dear! I hope you will like it!

Halloween prompt list

Pairing: Nikolai Gogol x gn!reader

Prompt: Chasing ghosts

Genre: Fluff, drabble

Word count: 351

Warnings: none

“Peek-a-…”

You’re running across the field, flashlight in hand and a huge, childish grin on your face. Your fingers tightly grip the handle of the torch, pale with apprehension, fear and delight making your blood boil. You can’t see anything, only the dark and the ground under the dim light of the device you’re grasping on. You can only hear the sounds of the night around you, the wind in the trees, the soft whisper of the nocturnal animals, the low voice of a man getting closer and close-…

“BOO!”

You scream when a pair of hands comes from nowhere, grasping your shoulders and holding you still in your escape. Your heart stops for a second, face devoid of colour, before a short, raspy breath finds its way through your throat. You pant, frozen for a second, and a nervous, shaky laugh quickly takes over your body.

You tilt your head back, your hilarity not stopping when you feel the ghostly hands gently squeezing your arms before disappearing, the pale-haired head of a certain Ukrainian man suddenly emerging from the shadows in front of you, a huge, proud grin on his face. There is nothing below his neck, floating in mid-air, and for a moment you’re taken aback, startled by the sudden apparition.

He disappears once again, making you take a step back to try to find any sign of the ghostly jester lurking around you. Quickly you find your back hitting a taller, broader silhouette, and gloves-covered hands sneaking around your waist. A low chuckle resonates behind your ears, and you shiver, this mixture of fright and excitement making your heart skip beats every seconds. The strange clown puts his chin above your shoulder, amused voice finally asking:

“Did I scare you enough, my dear?”

You laugh, nervously. You’re still jumpy from the race, body trembling in apprehension and adrenaline. Your shaky hand finally hovers over his, gently putting it on his glove, his warmth comforting after this hour of fright.

“You, Nikolai Gogol, make indeed a fine ghost.”

He laughs. “I’ll make sure to add that to my resume.”

#HES SO CUTE☹️ #i love him so much

[kaekazu]

PLEASE READ! — nikolai

hi everyone! for the abrupt post, my bad, but i have some things to announce and to say.

first of all, thank you all for the support on the new series, i cannot thank you enough.

second of all, the fic will only be compromised of four chapters, given that i am still thinking of the abrupt ending of it. it's not to be a serious one, anyway. and the fic has been going on for an entire month, more than one, actually, so i want to make way for writing genshin x reader instead of genshin x bsd x reader, since i do not think it caters to all your expectations.

however, if it does, i will write it occasionally, because i think that my content is being reused over and over again. I apologize for that.

and because of that, i have decided to write for bsd and for genshin only! some revisions will be added to my blog, but other than that, I hope you all understand.

i want a change in content and a change of pace, but if you still harbor fondness towards bsd x genshin and/or bsd!reader x genshin, tell me about it. i will happily indulge in some of your recommendations if ever.

third, and lastly, I'm sorry to say this.

I'll be in a hiatus for some time.

for reasons I cannot say, mostly because of finals and school, I will go in a hiatus until everything goes shallow and well until I can fully go back to writing.

I hope you all understand. I am very sorry for this abrupt announcement, especially since I am almost done with the series and that I am continuing to type away in my pc about more ideas but, some things hinder me from doing so and I cannot ignore them, unfortunately.

This is for my mental health and again, things I cannot say.

You can catch me in my twitter and occasionally, here, but I don't know how long this hiatus will last.

Drabbles and such will probably be here whenever, maybe in an indefinite schedule.

but yeah! with all that said, I will see you all again soon.

bye bye!

[kaekazu]

falling in love with sigma (and everything that comes after)

anon: Can you do a sigma scenario of where him and his S/o first meet,them falling in love spending time together,and maybe some nsfw(if you write it you don’t gotta-)

anon: Can you do a sigma crushing on S/o scenario:)

a/n: i felt like this was a pretty general request so i'll write something pretty general too which i don't mind hehe i miss writing reqs like this also sorry i don't write smut

first meeting:

you both met up in the casino because he kind of never leaves that place and you had a job as a bartender in one of the many bars inside the sky casino

it was quite a busy job but you were paid quite well because sigma is a Cool CEO so you've been working at that same place for about a month already

and yet you've never met the sky casino's owner himself though you've seen him making his rounds quite a bit (he's hard to miss)

and then one time, you were working the night shift at the bar dealing with a very drunk and difficult customer

you were trying your best to keep your cool and hold a conversation with him when like a knight in shining armor, mister casino owner himself appeared

it kind of astounded you seeing sigma be so civil with the guy and even offering a refund and free drink that he could take to his room

then when the customer finally leaves you can hear (very clearly i made add) sigma say 'well, he was an asshole'

hearing your outwardly polite boss say that got you holding-onto-the-counter-to-brace-yourself-laughing and sigma has a little smile on his face because yay he made a joke

seeing as he was already there, he decided to take a break and order a drink and the two of you ended up talking

sigma is often very stiff when talking to people but he feels himself noticeably relax while talking to you

and thus begins his routine of visiting the bar where you work whenever he has some time off

falling for you:

i think since sigma is quite new with human experiences he'd fall quite hard for you but be very confused about what he was feeling

he's definitely the type to go on yahoo answers all 'i feel weird around this one person and i don't understand why is there something wrong?'

it takes a week of reading romance novels for him to get that italicized, soft 'oh' moment

but now he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings because he's almost certain that you wouldn't feel the same way for him

but that doesn't stop him from doing little things for you like bringing you leftover cake from the dessert buffet or some hand lotion when you complained about your skin being dry from having to wash them constantly

you can definitely tell something's up but you don't want to ruin the good relationship you have right now with your boss who ended up being a really good friend

but the moment happens when the two of you are engaged in conversation again at the usual bar. you don't drink on the job but sigma let you stay and use the space after hours

both of you are just slightly tipsy and laughing at something you said and sigma accidentally lets slip 'that's why i like you so much' before he can register it

**cue the awkward stares**

sigma will probably drop his glass and try to run away so this a great time for you to yell out your feelings before he leaves

and man does he stop in his tracks

"you're... not joking right?" "why would i be joking??"

sigma decides it's the perfect time for him to ask you out but he stumbles over his words and he's so nervous but hearing you giggle and say 'yes' sends his heart flying

(finally) dating:

god i'd forfeit all mortal possessions to go on one (1) date with sigma because he sure knows what he's doing

he'll take you to a fancy dinner in the sky casino's best restaurant with a view overlooking yokohama

all of his planning is to the very last detail because he just wants the night to go perfectly and he is stressing more than a little bit because it's also his first date

sigma probably just realized he forgot to change when he's picking you up for dinner but too late lol

okay but when he sees how beautiful you look in the outfit he brought for you all of his worries just melt away UwU

he's such a gentleman though giving flowers on your first date and giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of the night

then he'll walk away a few paces before walking back and going 'can i kiss you too?'

please say yes

**insert clip of sigma with his red, flustered face buried in his pillow when he's finally alone in his room**

both of you are quite busy though but make time to go on a date at least once a week

the best dates though are the ones that are outside of the sky casino

i feel like sigma would prefer one of those calm cafe dates just to get him out of the hectic space of the casino also this man needs to touch grass

he enjoys park dates quite a bit and doing some people watching though not in the creepy way because it just calms him down and takes his mind off things

your dates slowly progress to more chill, at-home dates where you're more comfortable with each other

if you make him a meal he will love you so much it just feels so personal to him

in conclusion: dating sigma is a 10/10 experience, must recommend

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @kiyoobi​​​​ @atsumusdomain​​​​ @laure-chan​​​​ @goodfoodxoxoxo​​​​ @guardianangelswings​​​​ @kei-ya​​​​ @loisuke​​​​ @whootwhoot​​​​ @liz-multifandom-hotel @kac-chowsballs​​​​ @violentfarewll @fyoyacanruinmylifethanks​ ​​​ @nightmare-light​​​​ ​ @miyakiyo0mi​​​​ @whorefordazai​​​​ @rirk-ke​​​​ @cross-crye​​​ @alohablue @duhsies​​​ @alittlesimp @bsdparadise @fyodorscello

#m.reblogs #im so in love w this man it’s not even funny i swear #sigma ☹️☹️ #i am so #please

[kaekazu]

第一章𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄. 報復; 最初の動き

reminder: there is no canon plot. please read the warnings and others in the link provided below.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄; REMINISCENCE.

𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 ここ

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒: spoilers for the bsd manga, mentioned violence murder bsd stuff, mori appears

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: led by greed are those driven with love.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: ur choice will possibly introduce chuuya and/or another character. voooote wiseeelyyyy :)

Dumbstruck. That’s what you felt like. “I knoooow it has been fou- five! Five years since we’ve last seen each other…” He trailed off, noticing your silence from the other line. Ah.. this call is a bit abrupt, He thought. Why the hell would you accept his favour? He has been nothing but unfair to you. He was a broken man whose fault is his own, yet he didn’t have the guts to even admit it to you and more importantly, himself. Who knew that the Dazai Osamu is a coward under his malevolent, promiscuous persona? Why were you to accept a single favour of a man who has proved time and time again that your hatred for him was justifiable? He has hurt you, countless times, and now he wants you to help someone as desperate as him? You deserve better, it’s been said by not only you and himself but to those who he had abandoned as well.

He left with no goodbye and a subordinate whose dreams were crushed by the very man who is talking to you now, for fucks sake. “Hellooo~,” He said, in a sing-song voice, an uncomfortable silence following after. The amount of rage stored in your body by just hearing that man’s voice snap you out of your thoughts was enough to make you lash out-- but you didn’t. He left you, he left everyone abruptly, and even though you know the reason behind it, it gave you more reason to hate him more. “And why do you think you could contact me?” You scorned, hearing an apologetic sigh coming from the other line. A pause, then, an apology unfinished. “Don’t,” You began, “Stop it with your insincere apologies.” a moment of silence was exchanged between the two of you, and it was mainly due to Dazai holding his words at the tip of his tongue. Although confident, he seemingly falters at your words alone.

Dazai Osamu is a man whose exterior is as hard as a diamond, his interior as versatile as you may think, his heart, to you, is as fragile as glass. It was ironic, for him to think that he is allowed to feel fondness towards you, for his heart to melt and to mend at the sight of you when he himself knew that he alone is the cause of everything you hated him for. You hated him for letting go of himself and letting go of you, and you most of all, you hated him for the sole reason that he didn’t allow you to see past the malevolent, methodical Dazai Osamu you knew before. You were so blinded by hope that you forgot to even block his number, out of all things. You let him gain the upper hand again and you speculated that it was your fault every single time.

It wasn’t.

It was always his fault. It always has been. You knew that (however, you were in a state of denial every time you realized so), and he did too. A broken man is doomed to survive whenever he destroys his own relationships, and even the smartest of men is known to be a confident fool, and you have witnessed one of the prime examples of that kind of man.

And that man chases for you.

“I’ll help you.” You finally let out, “Only if you tell me everything.” You said sharply, indicating that you do not take no for an answer. Dazai nodded, “Yeah, sure, okay.” He said, seriously this time, but reverted back to his usual childish persona. “But pleaaaase be quick!” He whined, and in response, you said, “Fuck off, I’ll be there.” You could hear Dazai gasp dramatically on the other line, “Ah! You wound me! And after, my darling, we should perform a double suicide together!” He said, giddy in speech, and you scoffed. My Darling? Are you kidding me? You thought, I’ll punch him in the stomach when I spot him. Before he could say anything else, you hung up, putting your phone in your pocket. Sighing, you rubbed your eyes as you stood up from your position, rushing to the bathroom to hurriedly change your clothes. It’s as if even after all these years and after all his mistakes, you still are worried for his safety.

You didn’t like that.

You have always wondered how Oda was able to handle him-- moreover before he even died. Truth be told, you, the legendary executive of the Port Mafia, was reduced to nothing but a shell of rumours circulating your entire persona. Even after he left, you carried on without problems. After he left, you grew. You two changed without each other, yet both of you were stronger when together. You were titled a god while he was titled a prodigy, and prodigies are known to receive the gods’ favour. Perhaps he was the reason for your uprising, or maybe you were consumed by guilt. No, it was due to Dazai leaving with an unsaid goodbye and taking Oda’s last words within him alone.

It was because he was unknowingly selfish and obsessed with the thought of being a good person. He did not foresee your disappointment and your resentment when he did that, though. Nevertheless, he deserved it. Halting your steps and your thoughts, you realized something. This is bait, isn’t it? You pondered. He sent me his location, I know that place. Taking a hard left, you made sure you did not stand out compared to the rest of the cars. A favour from this man is most likely a request, clicking your tongue, you let your hands grip the steering wheel, The location is in an alleyway next to a damn bar out of all things. A bar, seriously? The wine I drink costs more than the entire establishment.

You departed from your car, fixing your coat with sharp, bored eyes. He still doesn’t have taste, does he? You were invisible when it comes to stealth, having been eliminating more than half of your target’s men without being seen. Moving swiftly, you spotted a slumped figure near the end of the darkened alleyway. The only source of light being the flickering enlightened sign of the bar, its words being too long for you to even care. “Dazai.” You voiced out, watching as the said man’s head snapped in your direction. He sent you an apologetic smile while his brown hair sways gently, noticing your fiery aggression towards the brunette. However, you did not make any move to help him with his predicament. Deadpanning, he shook his hands. Enclosed in handcuffs, to signify he needs help, although he is aware that you knew about it. “I hate you, you know that?” You whispered, and while he knew that it was genuine, he allowed himself to indulge in your presence despite the numerous words covered in hatred directed to him. “I am undeniably aware.” He smiled, again, this time, a smile covered in a melancholic, sincere and unfeigned penitence. “What is it that you want from me?” Instead of receiving an answer, you heard a chuckle from the detective, making you clench your fist in indiscernible anger. “It’s been so long, why skip the forma--” before he could utter his words, you appeared before him, making your fist and his stomach meet, while he let out a choked gasp at the sensation. “Fuck the formalities,” You whispered directly in his ear, and you heard a low moan coming from his mouth.

Placing a firm hand on his neck, he looked at you with half-lidded eyes and a wry smile on his face. “You got stronger.” He weakly muttered, and you made no move to respond. That is, for a few seconds. “What is it that you need from me?” You said, and he nearly smirked at the dominance in your voice. Alas, he sighed, unconsciously leaning to the hand entrapped on his neck. You made no move to stop him, opting to glare at the man instead of doing anything harmful. It was true that you resented him for what he has done, yet you knew your words and your body language speak more than violently beating him unconscious. Letting go of his neck, you deadpanned. “Speak.” You spoke sardonically, lightly slapping both his cheeks until he utters a word. He looked up, this time, a dumb smile on his face, “What happened to ‘I hate you'? Missed me that much, darling?” You let your smile falter, and you stood up. “Tell me what you need from me. Quit stalling.” I want to bash his head against the wall and stab him four times before throwing him out of the window. He lets out a cynical laugh at your behaviour, and you take his hair in your hands for a second. “Now, darling, tell me.” You emphasized the pet name, and his laugh faltered. Snapping your fingers, the handcuffs fell limp on the dirtied ground with a ‘clang!’ and Dazai had to rub his wrist due to the pain.

“You already know why I led you here, don’t you?” He asked after an uncomfortable, dead silence, and you whipped your piercing eyes to the ability user. “Nothing less from the Port Mafia’s Moloch, it seems.” He said, although you were able to decipher a hint of mockery enlaced in between his words. You clicked your tongue, muttering something indecipherable under your breath, and said, “This is bait, isn’t it?” You questioned, leaning back to the vandalized cement behind you. “I wonder why Fukuzawa sent you to get me.” You tauntingly remarked, “I wonder why you accepted my favour, hm?” he replied in return, and you narrowed your eyes before scoffing. “Don’t think much of it, now get in the car.” Directing your thumb to the end of the alleyway, the hallway littered with vandalism and filth on the floor, shattered bottles and burnt papers scattered on each side of the alleyway. He led himself out first, stretching his arms out and letting out a grunt at the pleasure. You swiftly went ahead of him, your coat slightly touching his at your arrival. “Drive the car. I didn’t waste my time driving for nothing.” You sternly said, each word piercing through Dazai’s chest, making him clutch his chest for dramatic effect. “You get bolder and bolder by the day, My Darling.” He voiced out, and you couldn’t help but grimace at the nickname. “Stop calling me ‘darling’, fucking overgrown potato sack.” You muttered the last part under your breath, opening the car door to the passenger seat, causing Dazai to widen his eyes in amusement and childish euphoria-- sparkles in his eyes and everything. You could feel the overflowing amazement he’s displaying, and you smirked amusedly at his behaviour, “Your car is amazing!” He gushed, looking at the sides and the exterior of your vehicle. “You will let me drive this?” He pointed to you, then to himself, then to your car.

Raising a brow, you realized that it wouldn't be a good idea for this manchild to drive your car. “On second thought,” You arrived at the driver’s seat, Dazai feeling obligated to sit beside you. “I’ll drive. You might crash the car.” You spoke, and Dazai deadpanned. “You really think that low of me, don’t you?” Scoffing in return, you started the car, an uncomfortable silence filling the air. With the fleeting light of the moon reflecting your irises, Dazai couldn’t help but stare at you rather than the view of Yokohama. It was nearing midnight, and his own chocolate-coloured eyes betrayed his own emotions, landing themselves on your figure, emanating equity familiar to the man. “The agency is not far from here,” You whispered, and Dazai snapped his irises from you to the window, your voice assuaging his worries.

And it hit you like a truck.

The four boys, living in your home, what are they doing now? It has been proven that they were worried about your safety in this city of crime and punishment, and you forgot about them. Why the fuck would you forget about them?

It’s not like they would disobey your orders, now would they?

You’re funny.

They weren’t used to this much hospitality, some even more so than others. Thoma was one of the more worried people, for he was accustomed to serving for whoever he had to. And this time, it was you. They all expected at least a warning before you went out, however, you neglected them for just a short while in hopes that leaving without a goodbye would help you save time; well, now you’re just overthinking. You gripped the steering wheel with such intensity, a vein popping at the side of your knuckle. It was unnoticed by Dazai, who was currently resting his cheek on the window, observing the city lights from inside the car. He made no move to talk, opting to stare outside, knowing that you didn’t prefer to talk to him. “Hey,” You spoke, watching as Dazai’s form jumped the slightest bit. It was no lie to you and to him that he was regretful for his actions, leaving you in a puddle of misery and sorrow, while he observes from behind you, with no hint of remorse for what he has done. He wasn’t the Dazai Osamu you once encountered, a naive boy willing to do whatever Mori gave him. He resented you for the reason that you pitied him as a new recruit and as an executive, but he can’t seem to hate you.

He found you interesting as time went by. He thought he pushed you to your limits for his own entertainment, only to be found being held in the same situation. You were more terrifying than the rumours came to be, and he needed to decipher you.

He couldn’t. Then, and now.

He found more reasons why you should have hated him. And to find beauty in your hatred adds on to the fact Dazai Osamu was absolutely, unquestionably, and patently captivated by you. And he hates it. He hates that he was able to feel human with you, knowing that he has made you feel less of a human when he left. It was his fault to let his guard down and be empathetic, and it was his fault for being a coward without thinking of the consequences. It was his fault for being selfish when all he could think about was to be a reputable person, the opposite of what he was during the Port Mafia. “Swan Lake?” You queried, voice allayed any hatred, and he couldn’t fathom the tranquil atmosphere in your vehicle. You hated him; hated him for what he stands for and hated him for betraying you and leaving with an unsaid goodbye, but a goodbye that pierced through your chest. You hated him for being Oda’s last person to talk to, and you hated him for leaving a subordinate who was broken beyond repair. It was his fault. Everything was his fault. For one to disagree is one who is foolish in mind and ignorant in morality, and you both knew that. “I don’t really like Tchaikovsky.” You nodded, “Brahms?” Querying, you awaited the answer from the brunette. He reclined on his chair, nodding. You let a chuckle slip past your lips, Dazai widening his eyes slightly from your voice. “Never knew you had good taste in classical music.” Now, it was his turn to chuckle. Reaching for the screen embedded in your car, you told him, “Search Brahms, would you?” He obliged, typing in ‘Brahms’, and picking the first song that was recommended to him. “Your taste in classical music has not changed ever since we met Fyodor.” He retorted, and you smiled. “Tchaikovsky and Bach? Too cliche for me.”

Dazai Osamu was never one for apologies, and you knew that quite well. However, you knew there was a lingering apology in his tone of voice when talking to you, yet you can’t quite forgive him. There is no yet, there is no ever. The spared minutes before arriving in the agency was spent discussing the remaining years you two never connected in whilst remaining civil. He applauded you for your calmness, yet he blamed himself for being a victim of his own mind. You parked your car near the agency, and shut the car off, while you both simultaneously got out, and fixed your coat. “Let’s go, the president is expecting me.” You reached out to your car, locking it. “You really are beautiful in the moonlight,” Dazai mumbled subconsciously, and you laughed a bit in return. “Not the time for your useless musings,” You waved him off, “Now go, I wouldn’t want to be caught in the dead of night.”

Stepping inside the office was dreadful, even more so as your eyes landed on the man you resented the most, Mori Ougai. Why was he here? You deduced that he was involved with the whole plan to bring you here, in the agency-- isn’t he an enemy? They probably went through another alliance for you to take the bait. Mori Ougai knows all your weaknesses, doesn’t he? It was the prime reason their plan succeeded. Mori’s information about you. “President,” A seemingly powerful voice entered your ears, however, you paid no mind to it. “Are you sure about this alliance?” He questioned, and the president remained silent. “Rest assured that the agency won’t fall due to this alliance. I’ve made sure of it.” Fukuzawa voiced out from behind Mori, and the latter smiled deviously in response. Dazai leaned his back to the cement, his quietness confusing the weretiger. The rest of the agency members did not bother to talk, absolutely awestruck at the appearance of the Port Mafia’s Moloch. They were not shocked at their existence, but mainly, their presence. Ranpo, however, simply stared at you with closed eyes. “W-wait,” Atsushi intervened, causing you to direct your gaze towards the albino. He jumped at your gaze, clearing his throat after. “Captain… Moloch…?” He trailed off, trying to figure out how to address you without being too embarrassed. Dazai broke out in small chuckles, while Kunikida silently scolds him for his behaviour. “[Name]. Call me [Name].” You replied swiftly, Atsushi nodding stiffly in response. However, he did not expect your next words. “Although, I do tend to go by ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’.” You winked and turned back to where Mori was situated, leaving an amused Yosano and a blushing Atsushi in your wake.

“Mr Mori.” You called out bitterly, distaste evident in your tone and on your face. “Yes, [Name]? He responded, with a sickly sweet smile you absolutely hated. Fukuzawa swiftly interrupts the conversation, “Do you know why we called you here?” Or, lured you here, but whatever. Fukuzawa questioned, and after some pondering, a comical lightbulb went off on top of you. “For protection, is it?” You answered, and Mori chuckled at your answer. As if he was proud of you, and you grimaced internally at your revelation. No man has proven worthy of your time and your patience, Mori being the least of your concerns and the bane of your being. He was a man shrouded in selfishness and baleful intent to those he crossed; and it is painfully ironic, that he was afraid of you, and of Dazai. He made you feel inhuman, a tool for him to use whenever he’d like and you realized this way before your upbringing, yet you stayed. Your loyalty to the Port Mafia shall never waver despite the man you hated with every pint of your blood was your superior.

“And I expect this… protection to be extreme?” You drew a circle with your pointer finger, signifying the alliance of the ADA and the Port Mafia. “Why both, though?” You could perfectly handle yourself-- you weren’t the Port Mafia’s Moloch for nothing. Having been titled the most remarkable prodigy in the Port Mafia, quickly surpassing regular recruits, and even passing Mori himself, you were a secret kept only for the Mafia alone. Not even low-ranking members have seen you or have witnessed your power. You were a rumour meant to be spread and not to be seen under any circumstance. So, why do you need protection? From the ADA too, no less. “This is not only for you, [Name], this is also for the Mafia and the Agency.” Fukuzawa sighed, “We also are targeted by the Hunting Dogs and the Decay of Angels,” Looking out of the window, Mori crossed his arms. “They have begun to target you and us for what you have done to Jouno Saigiku and Tecchou Suehiro,” Mori responded right after, and you sweatdropped at their statement. Well, you did kind of damage their internal organs a little, but hey! It was justifiable. “And the agency agreed to this alliance for what you have done to my members. If it weren’t for you, we would most likely be at a loss for ability users.” The president placed his hand on your head, a sign of thankfulness and recognition.

Call yourself dramatic, but that was a gesture you would never forget. “And Tachihara? Does he know about this?” You queried, even though you had an idea of his motives. He wasn’t that hard to read, anyway. Figuring out his true identity was far from difficult when it came to you, having been hinting at Mori about his double agent identity. You knew it would be impossible for him to achieve any sort of information from you, and it was evident that he knew absolutely nothing about you.

Why? Because you never engaged in any sort of conversation, Mafia-related or not, willingly. His transparency was the cause of his failure. Obviously, he would be on your tail for what you were rumoured for and your receipt of a track record. You were, undeniably, one of Japan’s most wanted in the country’s criminal history. “Why do you think so? He is blissfully unaware of all of this.” Mori chided, smiling cynically. “And I’d like to add, The Clown also wants you dead.” Nikolai Gogol? What did you do to him for you to land on his hit list? You only uttered a simple understanding of his morals, and the reaction you received was enough for you to realize his own personal motives. “So? What do you say, [Name]?” Fukuzawa asked, “If you decline, we won’t provide you any support nor help you in whatever predicament you put yourself in after your answer.” He stated seriously, although you could see an ounce of remorse in his metallic blue eyes.

Being guarded by the agency was a feat on its own, but you knew that if you would have accepted, they would find out about the group of men in your house, confused, and unknowingly putting their lives on the line for someone as dangerous as you. Negotiating with the president would most likely resort to futile attempts of trying to save those four men from their wrath because anyone who trusts you naively would inevitably die in your hands one way or another.

You want to accept, you want them to adapt quickly, however, who knew that the most probable solution was to allow them to meet your enemy?

God knows if Zhongli would remain civil with Fukuzawa if they met each other and if anyone in the ADA would really get along with the outlanders in your home. Sure, you could’ve just said no, however, there was an unabating thought far off in your mind that ushers you to entertain their idea. The potential discovery of your outlanders situated in your home was not much of a problem to you, at least, that’s what you think.

“Give me a moment.” You mumbled, retreating out of the office, leaving a regaled Mori Ougai with an equally bemused Fukuzawa Yukichi as a result.

Pondering will get you nowhere if you know the outcome. This protection provided to you was the culmination of your actions to the enemy of the Port Mafia and the ADA. Leading yourself to a secluded area in the agency, you reverted your gaze to the moonlight. It was an hour past midnight, and you were certain that the outlanders were asleep.

What do you do?

“Hey, [Naaame]! Long time no see!”

— 投票𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒!

"Have you seen [Name]?!" Thoma shouted from the kitchen, causing Zhongli to jolt from his position on the couch. His book fell from his hands, and he lost the current page he was reading as a result. Sighing, Zhongli adjusted his glasses (which he got from you, after all your nagging to buy the ex-archon one). "I have not seen [Name] yet, do you think they were called for work?" He thought out loud, recalling your words to him a time ago. Although you would not elaborate on your position, he had an inkling that your work should not be shared with the public.

"We shouldn't look for them. That's the most rational action we should do when they're gone." Zhongli reminded the group, Childe pouting at his response. He wanted to look for you, and also look for potential enemies. He was vaguely aware of your occupation, due to their lack of information about your job. He does the same, either way; of course, he'd have an idea as to what you work for. "Wipe that look off your face, harbinger. We're not going out." The Yaksha scolded, and Childe sighed deeply in return. Thoma laughed awkwardly, "How about we just... Prepare something for them? It's late," He suggested, noting the acceptance of the trio before him. Zhongli perked up, unbeknownst to the rest of them, and started scheming in his archaic brain. You'd like to read books, right? Oh, what if you read all the books in your library? How about some tea...? You liked his tea, and you liked his stories.

Oh. Yeah, you'd enjoy him as he is.

A satisfied smile crept up to Zhongli's lips as he reclined on the couch, abandoning his book that he no longer had an interest in.

And thus began a chaotic mission to welcome you back properly.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀!

Ranpo talked to Atsushi after you flirted with him. The poor boy was still generating your response in his head.

Yosano likes you. It's a given; A powerful person and she can feel your hatred for Mori despite being the strongest Mafia member? Sign her up.

The four boys did not have a good time working together. But they had to do so in order to satisfy you like you did them!

Xiao was disappointed to see that you only had one pack of tofu in your kitchen. He tried to taste it and he didn't like it. He sulked for a solid 10 minutes in his room.

While you were away, Zhongli crept into your library and snatched 2 books about Norse mythology. He looks forward to talking to you about his discoveries when he drinks tea with you.

Childe, uncharacteristically, loves to watch your koi fish swim around in your little pond, and after you left, he silently thanked you for teaching him how to feed your fish properly.

Thoma and Childe have a great dynamic over the kitchen. When it comes to anything else they have a playful rivalry. (BATTLE OF THE MALEWIVES)

Mori could sense your distaste for him from across the room, and he tried his best not to deadpan at you; He proposed the alliance anyway. (why are you even looking at us u fucking frail Ass Bitch u will die soon)

Fukuzawa missed talking to you, believe it or not.

Chuuya and Koyou are the only Mafia members to be aware of the alliance. The Black Lizard, including Akutagawa, has no idea of the alliance whatsoever.

Tachihara sneezed when you talked about him. Teruko laughed at him after.

2021 © kachuuyaa. do not steal or claim my work as your own.

#self reblog

[kaekazu]

– it's you (it's always been you)

characters: tachihara michizou, you

genre & wc: (implied) childhood friends to strangers, angst:) – 1.5k

Tachihara Michizou is an organized man.

For different days and events required, he has his clothing divided.

His life is divided.

There is an order to everything he does, plans and acts on; a harmony and set of rules within themselves that only make sense to him. It saves him the trouble of having his cover blown and efforts wasted.

A phone for work and another for personal affairs is what he would normally do. But there is nothing normal to the situation he is in.

And it helps that he doesn’t have such a personal life – saves him the trouble of acquiring a third phone. One for the mafia, another for the hunting dogs.

Tachihara Michizou is at a bar on a Tuesday night, the clock nearing two in the morning.

At a table not too far in the back but his back to the wall, the doors in his line of sight, nothing in this crooked up space can be of interest to him. Despite his eyes lazily wandering around, he is not here to socialize, not one bit. And the last thing he expects to see is your form slouched over your drink, and an empty bottle by your hand.

It takes a second to recognize you, you have changed.

But it’s the eyes that give you away.

Despite the emotion he cannot quite name that is in your eyes, it is still you.

And before long your eyes meet his, recognition passes your face.

How are you, how have you been? It’s been so long since…

One conversation rolls to another, one drink becomes two, becomes several.

Tachihara wasn’t expecting to see an old face when he decided to pay a visit to the bar, but then again he had no expectations at all.

That is the thing with life, as he has come to learn too many times, it’s always the unexpected, the unseen that comes and grabs you by the shoulders.

If someone told him when he was just a child that he would end up in a situation, a delicate mission, such as the one he is in right now, he would have just ignored them and walked away.

It is confusing enough as it is already, and the last thing he needs on his plate is a huge pile of worries – as if he doesn’t have his fair share of them plenty, for appetizer, on the go and more to be cooked and served for later.

Even so, if there is another thing Tachihara Michizou knows for sure, it is that he must be the universe’s very own personal punching bag.

It has been a while since he has lost count of the drinks, and a little longer since he last checked time.

As unexpected as life keeps on proving and universe never stops throwing one thing after another, maybe it is tonight that he could never see coming.

His view blackens after a while, all the voices around have blurred out.

It is only fitting for a night like this to end in the same fashion.

When he stepped inside the bar tonight, there were many things he couldn’t have guessed to see or live, yet none of them would catch them off guard like this.

The sun rises, the new day has already started, the sounds of the people and vehicles outside make their way through the window, waking him up, feeling warmer than usual.

When Tachihara Michizou was just a child, he could never expect the tragedy that is war occurring upon his family and himself. Descending down like a rain of flames, that’s how it feels in time.

He grows and grows, improves and proves himself; and no matter how strong he has become, he wouldn’t expect that side of the past to haunt him afterwards, the pain becoming only worse in time, growing with him, surrounding him.

He grows and works hard, harder, push himself as much as he can; he never thought he would be tasked with such a mission, asked to infiltrate that organization, out of everything else.

Just as he hadn’t seen that, he doesn’t expect to rise the ranks like that, gain respect and trust, fit in – but not quite.

Until tonight, the bar wasn’t even on his mind.

The warmth only increases and takes over until it becomes unbearable and that is when he opens his eyes.

Out of everything life has thrown at him so far, Tachihara Michizou sure as hell didn’t expect to wake up to your face buried into his chest this morning, or any other morning, if he might be honest.

Life has never been gentle or predictable, he waits for this to end right then and there.

Yet comes another surprise and your presence lingers. You stay in the bed, in his arms for as long as the two of you can ignore awakening life outside.

Once it’s time to get up and leave, you don’t leave permanently.

In the next few days Tachirara finds himself staring at his phone, waiting for it to be lightened up with your name on the screen. Couple days later, he regrets not investing in that third phone sooner.

What you decide on at first, has him worried.

You weren’t supposed to find him, weren’t supposed to enter his life and bring the sunlight in, you weren’t supposed to give him hope, hold his hands, gaze into his eyes and lean your head against his chest.

Getting you tangled with this… side of his life, the risks of you getting harmed just because of your ties have him worried, it’s heavy on his chest.

But then you muse, he thinks to himself, if it is not a relationship exactly, where does the risk lie? It’s just a deal, you’re just two people who happen to be at the same place at the same time, going to one’s place or the other’s.

Nothing is official, there are no risks – yet this happens to be the very same fact that grabs at his heart and squeezes it.

Soon he finds himself wishing you hadn’t needed to meet over drinks, that you wouldn’t come all those nights with that same look and same slouch.

Oh how he wishes things were different; how would it feel to hold you, stroke your hair, cup your cheeks; no ‘It’ll be alright.’s in the air.

He spends his idle times imagining how you’d look at him as you share the same breath, he wants more than anything to wipe that emotion off your eyes, to have your gaze on him and him only, fingers roaming his body, nails digging into his flesh; he would welcome anything if it comes from your hands.

Daydreams turn into dust one by one. Tachihara knows by now that dreams have never helped me achieve anything.

And isn’t it ironic actually? That the very same reasons that get you upset in the first place are the sole reasons you dial him at odd hours of the day.

It’s all a ruse, an excuse – you must be pent up, you must be upset.

It’s nothing more than just a way to relieve that stress.

Comes another night later a long time later.

The bed is cold, left untouched.

Your question falls on deaf ears, there is a ringing in his ears.

Has he be yelling all this time?

Tachihara never intended to make you cry.

To be the sole reason you’re feeling like this, looking like this; no this isn’t him, that cannot be him – he is supposed to make you happy, make you forget.

And yet, in the end, that’s what has gotten the two of you to this exact place.

He can hear his words echoing in his skull still, ‘I am sick of being the rebound guy, being a number to call whenever you have another failure coming up.’

He wants to hold it in, not make the pain worse than it already is. Yet the words leave his mouth before he can think.

He should’ve been suspecting from the start, with how quick you start dating and have another failure blown up into your face again.

After all, what does he know? He never had the honor to date you, only to exist as a secret, a pocket bad boy to run back to whenever a heartbreak was present.

It’s only the ragged breathes he can hear now, but the tune is off.

Everything feels wrong, perhaps everything is wrong. You should’ve never asked for his number that night, you shouldn’t have raised your chin against the universe and be an element of surprise he desired.

You shouldn’t have entered back into his life, handling over the same drops of hope he came to see a little too late when he was a kid. You should’ve never kissed him, never slept in his arms, spent the night and listened to his heartbeat.

“Maybe all those relationships failed because even they noticed it was you I sought in them.” Your voice comes barely in a whisper, (is the ringing of his ears still happening?), you sniff once and turn around.

Before Tachihara can raise a hand to reach out, to hold, to touch, to have any sort of contact; you’re gone.

#NAHHH IM GONNA CRY WHAT #m.reblogs #TACHIHARA ???? PLEASE

[kaekazu]

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 / bsd x genshin crossover: interactive fic

( not even god can save you from self loathing. )

最初𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎. led by greed are those who have encountered such callous punishment. well, care to tell how and why have you brought yourself back in your hometown? (in which, you and some unwanted others bring yourselves in the land of the gifted. now why would you so that, exactly?)

2番目𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄. series. non-canon (does not follow the plot). gn!reader. spoilers! INTERACTIVE PIECE. just fun little shenanigans between you, and the BSD and Genshin Characters~

ノート𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎. from 09/08/2021 to 09/09/2021, you’ll be able to control the flow of my first series in thanks for 400 followers. the first poll will consist of those lucky chosen group of people to travel with you back to where you came from.

警告𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. detailed descriptions of murder, violence and torture, drama, fluff, some — extreme angst, crack, hospitals, mori 🙁, IMPLIED SEXUAL CONTENT (hehe)

( you are too selfish to realize that not only

you are the worst of humanity. )

( red is not only the color of love; but for violence, is it not? )

ルール𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒. you shall only vote once. your vote will affect the story and may lead to an undesirable route. (you probably wont like being murdered by the guild in broad daylight... well, you can’t die, technically.)

you will encounter various people depending on your choice. be it dancing with mark twain and childe in a fucking arcade in new york, or as dark as massacring an enemy group with akutagawa and xiao.

groups are as follows. GROUP ONE: Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Venti. GROUP TWO: Xiao, Childe, Zhongli, Thoma GROUP THREE: Gorou Kazuha, Scara, Dainsleif.

you can only pick one group out of the listed. pick wisely! (tried to group them up fairly to make u second guess your choices. did it work?)

リスト𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. to be updated soon!

第一章UNTITLED. PROLOGUE

第二章UNTITLED. CHAPTER 1

タグリスト𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

none. reply to be taggedddd hehe :)

情報𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀. (little hc’s （╹◡╹）♡)

reader will have vague explanations on their relationships for most bsd characters; however, i will say this: reader was very close to odasaku and fukuzawa, refusing to talk about the former whenever brought up.

reader will and always will be one of the smartest characters in this fic. their personality contrasts that of many mafia members, having not changed in all their years of serving Mori Ougai.

it will be implied that reader carries the port mafia, and is Mori’s favourite despite the mass amount of hatred they carry for him.

the only person to acknowledge akutagawa is reader.

vague is the reader’s past, although their criminal record is like a receipt. dazai mentions this once in a while, although, his words are almost always ignored.

reader has always been a valuable asset to the mafia. Mori has always slid a word of praise (surprisingly genuine!) though, they don’t care.

reader likes wine! and they’re a menace out of work, leading to chuuya’s small annoyance to the former. can’t deny chuuya’s small cr—

reader despises paperwork.

after odasaku’s death, they have never entered bar lupin for 4 whole months. out of all the deaths they have encountered and caused, oda’s has hurt the most.

every threat they have uttered never will and never was empty. they are simply a really good actor. (persuasive in speech and in action, shouldn’t have joined the mafia! oh wait, they didn’t have a choice, did they?)

reader never really cared for ango.

you were not able to hear what oda had told dazai, forever loathing the latter for not only leaving you, but being able to be the last face oda has seen before he passed, and to be able to hear the last uttered words of the man you grew attached to.

as for now, koyou and reader may seem to have a relationship akin to sisters. they don’t share the same ideals and beliefs, however. it doesn’t matter, though. they are similar if in depth. (koyou is one of the reasons why reader is formidable in battle— don’t tell chuuya and fukuzawa that).

you are rich . Like . Jeff Bezos rich (how? hehe)

言葉𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. HIIIDIDIDIDO welcome to MY FIRST SERIES ever. nak u all for . 400 followers u all are amazing and cool and lovely hehe. Hearts for u. ALSO! btw. if u made it to the end im so sorry for rambling about everything ever but i wanna say so many many many things Anyway! there will be little secrets in the end of every chapter for .Like a Little easter egg :) THERE WILL BE SPOILERS i sincerely apologize

( painted in red are both. )

2021 © kachuuyaa. do not steal or claim my work as your own.

#guys please #self rb #This Please

[kaekazu]

I have a idea for a scenario.

Fyodor with Y/N that had hanahaki. He returned the feelings for her after heard the news of her having this disease. She thought at first that he was lying, never knowing that he really had feelings for him, but then she started feeling better.

I saw this, and this idea come through my mind.

Hanahaki Disease - Fyodor x Reader

Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

Genre: Comfort with a bit of angst??

Summary: You have Hanahaki disease, and Fyodor tries to convince you that he truly does love you.

Word Count: 2022

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I had a lot of fun writing this ahhh! I hope you like it <3 :D

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ♡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It was getting too difficult to breathe.

You always had such high stamina, being an exceptionally well trained assassin for most of your life and all, but it seems like everything’s been getting worse and worse as the days went by.

You were currently out on a mission with the rest of the DOA, fighting against multiple people all charging at you with blades and guns. No matter how many times you’ve done this before, tonight you were also trying to deal with keeping those goddamned flower petals down your throat. To put it simply: you were struggling.

Whatever hell of a plant was growing in your lungs was just making everything so intolerable, you couldn’t even work as efficiently as you used to.

This wasn’t what you wanted. This was never something you asked for or needed in your life. You never wanted to fall so hell over heels for this Russian demon that you couldn’t even fucking breathe anymore, and not even metaphorically.

You knew this was Hanahaki disease, and It’s been getting terribly worse throughout the month.

But what could you do about it? It was clear that Fyodor didn’t love you, so there’d be no point in telling him. If you tell anyone else, they’d only tell Fyodor along with the whole organization who would simply laugh at how pathetic you are. And if you were to get surgery to remove the damn and sorrowful flower growing in your lungs, you’d lose your feelings for the man you care for most.

You just don’t have the strength to remove your feelings, after all, you’re probably the only person to see him in such a light over the dark and emotionless persona he puts on.

That was your only sliver of hope: that Fyodor isn’t the careless and heartless being he portrays himself as, and heck, this little hope you had was only making the pain in your lungs grow.

You couldn’t let go, you just couldn’t forget about your love for him. If it meant choking on and coughing up bloody petals every hour of the day until you die, so be it. And honestly, with your unrequited feelings, you didn’t mind letting yourself die.

With the last man dead, you dropped to the ground panting and gasping for breath, trying to painfully swallow down the flowers threatening to come up. You couldn’t let them see what was really going on.

“Y/N!” Sigma yelled and rushed down over to your side, placing a hand on your back carefully and you were on your knees, leaned over on your arms as you stared at the bloody floor beneath you.

That got the attention of two other men in the room. Fyodor and Nikolai turned around to see you on all fours, struggling to breathe, something they’ve never seen from you before.

Fyodor’s dull glare was watching you carefully, raising an eyebrow as he saw you start coughing violently, as if you’ve been stabbed in the throat, but he knew that wasn’t the case.

You couldn’t hold them back anymore, so you covered your mouth and coughed up whatever was scratching up your throat. A full sized rose came out into your hand, blood staining your hand as you choked out some more petals and leaves. Before sigma could even question it, you tucked whatever was in your hand into your pocket, not letting this disease be discovered just yet.

You stared at the floor wide-eyed, finally managing to slow your breathing. Your throat and lungs burned, your body shook, you were just too weak to continue. However, you still did your best to stand back up on your feet, managing to do so but only to swayback and worth and exhaustion took you over.

All three of them were by your side in a second, Nikolai grabbing you by the shoulder to help stabilize you. You didn’t even want to look at Fyodor, you could already picture the look of disgust and anger on his face for being so weak.

“Why did you come with us if you were sick?”

That was it, the cold and heartless voice of the man that stole your heart. The harshness of his tone only further reminding you of the feeling he will never return. And by hearing his voice, knowing well his focus is completely on you, waiting for you to answer, you felt a huge wave of pain surpass through your lungs.

It hurt so bad you couldn’t even manage to react before your body went completely numb, feeling nothing but the harsh throbbing on your insides. You felt your vision stray away from you, painfully pulling you away from your consciousness. You were no longer aware of what was going on, but suddenly you were on the floor, with blurry faces hovering over you. The lights seemed to shine so brightly into your eyes, but to you, they appeared as if growing dimmer and dimmer.

This was the end. You felt death for the first time, and knowing that, you smiled, letting a tear fall out of your eyes.

“I’m...sorry...” Your weak and hoarse voice let out before darkness took over you completely.

----------

“It’s Hanahaki disease,” The doctor states.

“WHAT??!!”

“What is that?”

The doctor sighed at the three men standing before him, “It happens when a victim of unrequited love so strong has a flowering plant growing within their lungs. They starts coughing out flower petals as a result. It is a fatal disease if untreated, but thankfully we saved them just in time.”

Fyodor, Nikolai and Sigma all turned to look at your unconscious body in the hospital bed, looking over how you hid this from everyone for so long.

“It’s clear they had this for a while now, the plant in their body is practically in full bloom. We had to remove some of it to keep them alive, the rest we can’t do without their consent,” The doctor continued.

“Why can’t you just remove all of it? Surely that will fix the issue,” Nikolai asks in confusion.

“Because it removes all the romantic feelings they have for the person they love. We need their consent before doing so. Also, if the person does return the romantic feelings, she will be cured, and not to mention very happy.”

The three stayed silent for a bit, letting it all sink in. Fyodor turns at you again, feeling a slight pang of guilt knowing that he was the one you loved. It was quite obvious to him, and he did very much feel the same way about you, however, he was afraid of being so vulnerable, hence why he never confessed to you.

Fyodor slowly walks up to your bedside, hands in his pockets as he looked down at you.

“...Who is she in love with?” Sigma breaks the silence.

“I wouldn’t have any way of knowing right now, but when we find out, we do need to contact them and—”

“She’s in love with me,” Fyodor muttered, eyes scanning every bit of your face.

Nikolai and Sigma turned to Fyodor and looked at him in shock.

“Wait, how do you know that??” Nikolai asks.

Fyodor ignores the question and calmly turns to look at the doctor, “I will return her feelings, if it really does make her feel better.”

The doctor eyed him carefully while the others looked at their superior in shock.

“Wait WHAT?!” Nikolai exclaims.

“Young man, if you do truly love her back, then—”

“I do,” He answers firmly.

--------

You slowly opened your eyes against the bright white light shining down on you. It took you a second to adjust and realize you were in a hospital bed.

You felt your hand being held by someone, brushing their thumb gently on your skin, making you feel comforted.

“Finally awake I see,” His voice rang out making you turn to the side and see Fyodor. 

You were instantly filled with that darn lovesick feeling, making your stomach churn and your lungs ache.

You defensively pulled your hand away from him and sat up, “What are you doing here?”

“Well, after you passed out we brought you here...” he answers, “...You should of told me about the disease sooner.”

Looking down at your hands, you felt ashamed that he knew. And you for sure knew he was fully aware of your feelings now.

“Why are you here?” You let out weakly.

He stared at you silently, and for a moment, it seemed like he held concern in his eyes, “...Because, I want you to know I’m returning your love, if it makes you feel better.”

No...that has to be a lie...

You felt the flowers scratching up your throat again, and you coughed into your hands, letting a few bloody purple petals come out. You held them in humiliation, looking down at them as a reminder of how pathetic you’ve become, tears beginning to form

Fyodor’s gloved hand reached out to take them from you, taking the bloody petals and looking at them carefully. His eyebrows were laced with sympathy, making him actually look...sad?

“I’m sorry, Y/n. If I known sooner I would of told you my feelings before this all got worse.”

“Stop lying...please...” you plead weakly, “...just go away. I’m going to get the surgery, there’s no need to fake it, it won’t help anyways.”

“I’m not faking it, I really do love you.”

Those words hit you harder than they should of, “Please, Fyodor, leave me alone...”

Fyodor looked at you with his same dull gaze, but he had sincerity deep within his eyes. He then tucked the petals into his pocket and walked over to the door, doing as you asked and left the room.

There was a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach, one you couldn’t quite understand. You surprisingly didn’t feel the need to cough or throw anything up. You noticed the scratching feeling in your throat was a lot less than what it was usually.

No...this has got to be because of the doctors...

--------

“So you want to get the surgical removal then?”

“Yes.”

“You’re never going to be able to have feelings for him again.”

“Yes, I’m okay with that,” You muttered, before the thought made you cough out violently. You struggled against the petals coming up your throat, until you heard the door open once more, and the sensation stopped.

“Please don’t get it removed.”

You looked up and saw Fyodor once again...how did his presence make your throat stop burning? How did him only walking into the room make the uncomfortable feeling in your lungs subside?

“I—I want to love you. Please don’t get your feelings get taken away from me. I will help you.”

You stared up at the man in shock. How could his love be real? How did the words that just came out of his mouth make you feel better? This couldn’t just be manipulation...but it was so not like him to actually say such things genuinely.

Fyodor made his way over to your side and leaned down to kiss your forehead, brushing some hair behind your ear. His touch was like magic to you, and for a moment, it even made you feel completely rid of all the flowers.

“Ugh, you younglings nowadays. I’ll give you a moment alone,” the doctor sighed and left the room.

You stared up at Fyodor, tears finally slipping out of your eyes and making their way down your cheeks. Fyodor carefully wiped them off with his thumb.

“Darling...please believe me...”

You closed your eyes, more tears falling out, “I’m so lost...and confused.”

“I know it’s a lot for you, and I know how hard this is to believe, but you’ve always meant so much to me...” His voice was quiet, and soft.

He tilted your chin up to make you look at him, leaning in to plant a loving kiss on your lips.

Fyodor pulled away, “I want to be with you, Y/n, let me take care of you.”

This was the first step of your journey to finally get better.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ♡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

#IM GOING TO CRY! but this was good #i like this! #m.reblogs #so so so so true #Haha! Shakes Fyodor Like A Soda Can

[kaekazu]

— roblox (derogatory)

05082021 , g.i headcanons , gn!reader

genre ; crack

includes ; genshin boys as roblox players, proof of my bias towards venti because . mentions of murder violence IN A VIDEO GAME

characters ; childe kaeya venti

synopsis ; genshin boys as my roblox friends

author’s notes ; iplayed roblox w my friend yesterday and i NEEDED to make this

CHILDE

He probably plays PVP games, actually. Those games being Arsenal, Phantom Forces, those games that involve pvp or even team pvp. I also like to imagine him playing Murder Mystery and any of the sorts.

Once played survive the disasters and bought the green balloon. Little shit bought the disaster multiplier too and laughed at how mad he made the players.

Somehow godly at FPS games? Although he has shitty timing. Rage-quitted once when he couldn’t get past the bow in Arsenal. However, he masters stealth and wins with the golden knife every single round.

BUYS GAMEPASSES EVERY SINGLE TIME. His avatar is probably showered in limited items.

Ridicules other players to you about their shitty playstyle, honestly. If you play with him, DO NOT be in the opposition, he will dominate you every single round. That, because he is salty and pouty for ‘betraying him’

He is the WORST at tower defense games. He is so focused on killing other players that he never pays attention to the tower. Probably complains to you about losing, Childe, darling, you lost because you didn’t protect the tower. That is the objective of the game.

Try all you want but you’ll NEVER get him to play simulators. He has no patience for that shit. Can he speed up the process, please? You can’t speed it up with robux? Oh. He hates this game.

Played the mimic once with you and he almost passed out. Laughed at your face when you screamed because of a jumpscare… okay…. Who almost passed out?

Only ever joins rp games for the sole reason to be an absolute menace to those who take the game seriously. Purchases Admin Commands to bomb the entire place, maybe even summon something to add to the chaos. Your attempts to stop him were futile, it always has been.

Spent more than $1K in Roblox, it’s a given. Makes fun of online daters on the daily, even getting in a fight with them-- resulting in a pissing contest in discord. (He had to bring up you to defend himself, seeing as you were a piece of art.)

(He actually took the fight seriously, especially when his opponent insulted you directly in his face. The online dater cried about it, and Childe made fun of him LMAOOO)

Can you please stop this man from wasting all his fucking money on Roblox seriously you have a manchild in your hands… Do something about it

Spoils you as well…. He gave you the highest amount of Robux possible AND a premium subscription.

Has definitely forced his friends into playing roblox with him.

He’s gotten obsessed with the game, there’s no turning back sadly.

He enjoys Breaking Point. It gives him a sense of thrill and adrenaline. (childe… r u okay… nvm i think we all know the answer to that)

KAEYA

You are his Discord kitten (JOKE…. KINDA….)

DEFINITELY PLAYS ROLEPLAY GAMES FOR THE FUNNIES…. To be honest, you don’t know if he’s taking his role seriously or it’s just an ongoing joke.

PROBABLY DRESSES LIKE A SLENDER…. Thinks wedgiecore is the shit Kaeya no it’s not…

Uses Robux solely for the purpose to dress like him in real life, absolutely despises black hair. He won’t be emo, if you want him to change his avatar he’ll do so.

Make it fitting, though, EVERYBODY NEEDS TO KNOW YOU’RE A COUPLE!!!

Complains to you about why the eye patches are mostly placed on the left than to the right. His avatar wears a mask because of it.

He LOOOOVES ragdoll games. He’ll either be a little shit and target you throughout the entire game OR be a sweetheart and throw everybody within a 10 mile radius on you. How sweet!

I kid you not, when he played jailbreak, he quickly had the highest bounty. If he was a police however, he’d let the prisoners go, actually. Would distract the other police officers to let the prisoners steal the helicopter LMFAOOO

Probably even told them the routes for the more expensive cars/weapons LMODAOSO

AN ABSOLUTE MENACE??? He would probably spend money in robux just to annoy people ....

Rosaria was forced to play roblox with him… ended badly!

The type of guy to get into numerous fights for no reason whatsoever when intoxicated. WHY’S HE ON ROBLOX WHEN DRUNK????? Then whines and cries to you about ‘not giving him affection’ MF YOU’RE ON THE PC CURSING OUT 12 YEAR OLDS IN ROBLOX????

He sets an online persona but with you he’s automatically soft :] treasures you in and out of gaming HE LOVES YOU!!!!!!!!

He doesn’t have premium-- he just has a decent amount of Robux he spent, probably broke now LOL

Played flicker ONCE and won .... seriously how the fuck does he do it??? Comes with the title, probably.

HE MAKES FUN OF THOSE CAFE GAMES AND GOT BANNED IN 4 DIFFERENT GAMES AT HIS FIRST VISIT… a menace

Overall, he doesn’t play Roblox too seriously, but he likes the fun of it, probably trolls quite a funny bit

VENTI

HE PROBABLY PLAYS WHEN DRUNK?????

HIS CHOICE OF GAME IS QUESTIONABLE (you caught him playing sussy baka land he didn’t want to admit he cried because of laughing for what that fucking game made him feel)

He plays those stand up comedy/rap battle games and somehow always WINS??? Doesn’t care about it though, he likes playing with you :)

He also plays whatever is recommended to him, doesn’t matter what genre, as long as it’s worth his time.

After playing with Diluc once, Diluc vowed to never agree to anything Venti asks him to do.

I feel like he would prefer showcase games than what he plays on the daily. He likes the tranquility and the realism of the buildings in the game, and would like to stare at it for as long as he likes. Although he has a memorable scenery waiting for him outside, he would like to look at those that catch his eye.

He also takes you on dates there if you’d like aww :’) he’s so happy when you agree because he thinks you’d not like it for he thought you prefer outside than some game on a funky little website.

(im being biased to venti but i dont care he deserves it) HE HATES ANGSTY GAMES… especially horror games with a sad backstory STOP HE’D CRY ON THE SPOT

He doesn’t spend money on Roblox, only there for the experience and he’d want to experience it with you. He has literally no friends on Roblox save for his Mondstadt friends (Diluc never played Roblox after playing with Venti, and Kaeya occasionally joins his game and the whole game these two are in together would be ripped to shreds)

Tried to be romantic while playing Jailbreak. He died.

TERRIFYINGLY GOOD AT FPS GAMES… averages 3rd to 4th place every round??? NEVER KILLS YOU THOUGH, OCCASIONALLY MAKES FUN OF YOUR AIM, AND PURPOSEFULLY MISSES YOU TO PROVE HIS POINT

You killed him once and he shut up for a minute… you won 3 rounds in a row and he had to listen to your taunting. HAHA #BOZO

2021 © kachuuyaa. do not steal or claim my work as your own.

#m.reblogs #SELF REBLOG 😭😭❤️❤️

[kaekazu]

WHERE CRIMSON MET IVORY.

a kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader oneshot.

SUMMARY    ▏he was crimson, you were ivory, and you never had looked good in red.

WARNINGS   ▏angst; major character death; mentions of violence; death; blood; swords / blades.

WORD COUNT   ▏1.8k words, 10.2k characters

AUTHOR’S NOTE   ▏introductory oneshot to tumblr!! how r we feeling >:D also it had to be angst, sorry i think. i specialise in this shit

Kaedehara Kazuha was no stranger to the colour red.

Red surfaced in the scarlet tint of his clothing, the soft blend of sunset and evening sky, the streak that shot through his hair. It reminded him of the bright glow of pyro visions, autumn leaves flitting about the wind, the dark passion that came to life in battle. Red was love; red was hate; red was something fierce and bold.

Red was the vividness of his eyes, red was the paleness of his lips, red was the flush to his skin. In a way, he was red as well, with his hair and eyes and clothing. You glance at him and your vision would flood with red. But there was something else, too—a kind of red embodied something both beautiful and gruesome. An elixir of life.

Crimson was also the colour of blood.

Blood, the essence of the living and the liquid of the dead. It flowed through the veins of humans, monsters, gods, and nearly every living being on Teyvat was powered by red.

And as Kazuha is to red, you were to ivory.

To you, ivory was fallen snow gracing the peaks of high mountains; it was the delicate petals of cecilias, where white descended into pale green before reaching the gentle, green stem. Ivory was the seafoam that washed ashore when cerulean waves would visit land, the shine of smooth marble, the quiet wishes whispered to the wind and lost to the loud whistling in your ears. You saw ivory in the sun, the moon, the stars; the clouds that drifted lazily along the high breezes.

Ivory was something born anew, a life blooming into existence. And you, with your tendency to be much too kind for your own good and an air of purity and kindness, were ivory.

And that was the thing. That was how it had always been. You had always been ivory; he had always been crimson. That was how it was meant to be.

So why were you choking on red?

Keep reading

#HOLY FUCKKKK THIS WAS NICE #m.reblogs #kachuuyaa.reblogs #MY GODDD #HELLLOOOO THIS WAS SO GOOD

[kaekazu]

— memento mori.

29072021 g.i oneshot , gn!reader , bsd!reader .. last one i promise

genre ; angst, fluff

includes ; takes place in the We Will Be Reunited Quest , mentions of suicide, DAINSLEIF FLIRTS WITH YOU... i think ... ending ... the ending .... paimon being a little shit, aether doubts u for a sec

characters ; dainsleif, aether, paimon, lumine

synopsis ; in a moment of bloodlust, there you find your most treasured companion.

author's notes ; HOLY SHIT THIS TOOK 2 WEEKS BUT I AM HERE... consider this being a gift to you bc it's my birthday today, and I got ayaka + jean today, this is the last one ever.... word count is 8.5k+ words WHEEWW anyways. have fun...... Laughs Manically (NOT PROOFREAD)

After receiving an arduous commission from the Liyue branch of the Adventurer’s Guild, Aether trudged softly to where the ruins were located. There, he saw you. You were resting, leaning your head back to the tree behind you, you opened one eye open, sensing a familiar aura walking towards you. Blinking, you sat upright, a soft greeting slipping out of your mouth. “What are you doing here, [Name]?” Paimon asked, and you sent a gentle smile, “can one not relish the beauty of nature?” you softly voiced out, and Paimon crossed her arms, “What?” She muttered, “You’re acting like that tone-deaf-bard now!” She complained, receiving only a sultry laugh from you in return. Aether ushered Paimon to the side and kneeled in front of you. You stare into his eyes until he breaks the silence, “are you okay?” He asked, concern laced in between his voice. You nodded in response, standing up, and brushing off non-existent dust from your pants. “I’ll go with you, you have a commission, I trust?” You queried, and Aether blinked but muttered a ‘yeah’ underneath his breath.

You decided to follow him until he reached his destination. Bidding goodbye to him and Paimon, you opted to wait and rest until he was done. You wanted to rest due to what happened not long ago, really. You didn’t want to dwell on the topic for much longer, in the aftermath, you fled Liyue Harbor. It was only to be expected since your arrival brought suspicion onto you wherever you went. Although some may believe that you were, undoubtedly, behind the summoning of Osial, others had a sharper wit than those who suspected you. Your name was once again spoken like a mantra across the fields of Liyue Harbor, however, the Qixing chose to shut down the topic whenever brought up. Leaning back, you sighed, fluttering your eyes closed. Aether usually came back at this time, yet he showed no signs of returning. Chuuya noticed your tired expression, and he snuggled against your knee to possibly comfort you.

Chuuya never felt this comfortable in his entire life, especially during his position as a Port Mafia executive. Being free from his duties and starting a new life was on his agenda, but he didn’t expect it to be with you, out of all people. He wished it to be, though. Seems like the gods have answered his wishes, in a more unique way. Seeing your face the first thing in the morning made him happier than intended, yet he never wanted to admit it, even though you were already aware of it. He noticed you sleeping, soft snores escaping your mouth, chest rising every breath you take. Well, he would be lying if he said you fail to take his breath away, it has always been that way. You have mesmerized him in every shape possible, you have made him more human than he could ever imagine. Though your rough exterior and your wrongdoings have told you otherwise, Chuuya, uncharacteristically, would beg to differ.

Chuuya never felt safer when he was with you. And he never got to admit anything before you died.

He was thankful you are now with him even after being stripped of what he was known for since he gets to live with what you cherished him for.

You did not actually sleep, opting to rest your eyes for a few minutes; you sat upright, and Chuuya let out a small, soft squeak of surprise. You scan the area for any oddities-- you notice a tall man near your direction, facing the opposite side of you-- focused at the entrance of the ruins Aether went into. You recognized that man from previous events, having witnessed the traveler and him conversing in the tavern. A squeak from Chuuya following multiple taps made you snap out of your thoughts, and you looked in the direction where he was seemingly pointing to.

“So we meet again…” He sighed, “A little sooner than expected.” He voiced out, hearing your footsteps to the right of him. “Hey, it’s Dain!” Paimon announced and turned her head to where Dainsleif focused his gaze on. “Oh! And [Name] too!” Paimon clapped her tiny hands together, and Aether waved to you in greeting. You smiled, and muttered a small ‘hi’ in response, making eye contact with the man you have heard of before. “You must be… Dain, I suppose?” tilting your head slightly, you queried. He blinked, clearing his throat, and confirming your statement with a simple “yes.”

Dainsleif has never come across someone like you in all his years of cursed immortality. Although he has heard of you, obviously, he never directly came in contact with you. Willingly, he’d like to say. He would describe you as an enigma, though, certain that you weren’t from this world, that still doesn’t answer all the questions he was silently asking you. Were you like him, perhaps? Cursed with immortality and forced to roam the world you grow to resent each passing year? It wasn’t far from possible, it would only be fitting.

“Judging by your expression, it seems you just experienced something quite strange.” He crossed his arms, continuing to observe the outlander in front of him. “Could it be that you encountered an Abyss Herald in those ruins?” He cautiously asked, inwardly smirking at Paimon’s bemused expression. You, on the other hand, held an expression the others failed to decipher. An Abyss Herald? You thought, allowing an amused smile to fall upon your lips, this is so fucking confusing, actually.

Well, not as confusing as to how you and Chuuya ended up having--

Okay. Well, there was no need to dwell on something entirely unrelated to the topic on the matter. “[Name]? [Name]?!” Paimon shouted your name, making you flinch. Blinking, you snapped your eyes to the fuming pixie and awaited her statement. “Paimon was just asking if…” Her voice faltered, fear slowly coating her face due to your stern eyes on her. Dainsleif noticed this, glancing at the pixie and at you. “I wanted to ask if you have any knowledge on the Abyss Order.” Paimon let out a breath of relief, placing her hand on her chest. God, you were scary sometimes. “Mm? Oh,” You placed your thumb on your chin, resembling a thinking position, in faux thought. “Well, no, not really.” An immediate lie slips past your lips.

Honestly, you can’t announce that you have been keeping track of their motives, really. After the Stormterror incident, you had no choice but to grow warier about your surroundings. To keep track of the Abyss is ensuring your safety for the future. Yet, revealing the identity of the Abyss Princess would give an anti-climactic ending, no? The show has not yet begun, so, why should it end as quickly? You were an undiscovered threat to both sides, slowly working your way to the top, while those who were selfish fail to notice your motives. You’d like to keep it that way, old habits die hard, as they say.

Although skeptical, Dainsleif nodded and conversed with Aether about the ruins once more. You observed his features, he was tall, you noted, blonde hair, star-shaped pupils. Who did that remind you of, exactly? Ah, that’s right. Kaeya. How odd. Truth be told, you and Dainsleif were far too similar than you both thought. Enigmatic, mysterious in person, you two were cursed with immortality for the sins you have done; although, you two do not know about this. You knew how to extract answers from anyone, storing valuable information in the endless abyss of your mind. You only know what you know. And who were you to care if one has failed the beliefs of another? You have not died in vain, and you have not died for failure. Those who failed to prove themselves are not worthy of your presence. (they tell me im a god)

You were able to process the words exchanged by Aether and Paimon. Godly power was inlaid in the statue, yet you can’t find yourself to care, in all honesty. A lingering fragment of hope was inlaid in your mind, screaming at you to follow, to care, to help. They were screaming at you to look for him. Who was he? Dazai? Akutagawa? Ranpo? Fyodor? Who was he? One of importance, it may seem. Your mind has been shrouded with loneliness and hopelessness, uncanny if compared to Dainsleif, for you two have one goal, and one goal is what you need to survive in this world engulfed in darkness and corruption. The gods’ power may have brought light upon those who call themselves humans, there was another side in which they do not wish to revel in the selfishness in the light of the heavenly.

You followed the trio on their way to find traces of the Abyss Order, Chuuya staring at Dainsleif with doe eyes. There was no swirl of interest nor curiosity, simply wariness and attentiveness. That certainly was Chuuya’s way of observing, you thought. Dainsleif may carry the aura of the stars, but he leaves melancholic traces while he walks. A sense of longing, yearning, and a sense of loss. You two were alike, however, not in the way you both may imagine it. Driven by retribution and the loss of your loved ones, you strive to eliminate those who pose a threat to you. Not in the lovesick sense, of course. You stepped forward after Aether defeated the Abyss Mages in the area, and kneeling down to take a good look at what they have done. Chuuya, however, flew to Aether’s side and rested on his head. Paimon whined a bit, calling Chuuya a ‘lazy orange dwarf’, yet Aether wasn’t fazed in the slightest.

He turned to look at Dainsleif who wore a quizzical look but kept his composure nonetheless. Paimon halted her complaints, and asked, “Those Abyss Mages just now… were they trying to ambush us?” Feeling her assumption was far from reality, you tune out their conversation and decide to ponder in your head instead. Dainsleif concluded that they were searching through the ruin guards, and you partially believed him. Standing up, you brushed off any excess dust on your pants, and shook your coat with your right hand to remove any dirt from it. “Well, then, why didn’t you grab one of them just now and ask what they were up to?” Paimon questioned. Interrogation… that doesn’t seem like a good idea, in all honesty. Before anyone could speak up, you answered, “Interrogation does not always work,” You sighed, and felt all eyes on you. “Interrogation brings out lies and deceit with the truth.” Fixing your gloves, you stare at them, blinking. “They have a point,” Dainsleif spoke up and added some sentences you did not pay attention to.

However, after the second location, you went to, you decide to listen intently. Especially after Dainsleif said some ‘meaningless musings’. Chuuya remained on your shoulder, contemplating whether he would want to sit on the mysterious man’s shoulder. You, honestly, came to a conclusion faster than the audience did. A reason for the Abyss Order’s motives seemed only an idea to you. You have witnessed the downfall of the gods and the movement of stars, those with abyssal power could only ever hope to reach your level.

And it seems like one was no longer hoping, for they were deceived by their own motives.

Well, you weren’t supposed to be alive, you were a mortal, one who was naive and exposed to a world full of lies. If you know too much, you will be punished, and if you have witnessed too much, you will be sent to an everlasting state of despondency. Or, in a rare case, develop a god complex!

“Oh.” You quickly realized what the Abyss Order was trying to do. Soft, your voice was, to not alert any of your companions. They were trying to find some sort of component-- there was one, original, authentic piece belonging to the ruin guards, but it seems that they can’t find it. Because they were simply clones. Of course! Why didn’t you notice sooner? A revolutionary item would only be duplicated if praised by the public if it was approved, and obviously, it was. They were looking for something only the first and most powerful ruin guard would possess. Oh. so that was it. “Huh?! Khaenri’ah?!” Paimon’s shrill voice entered your ears, making you raise an eyebrow in curiosity. You have heard of that ancient city, a nation in which the mortals have designed it intricately only for it to be destroyed by Celestia. To prove that only gods and gods alone should rule this world the clueless submit to. How pathetic.

“I have memories of Khaenri’ah” Now, that, you weren’t expecting. You blinked in surprise, a fraction of your eyes widening, going unnoticed by the three. “You, [Name], do you hear this?” Paimon whispered to you, and you nodded. “I don’t understand anything, actually.” You let a lie filled with nothing but deceit exit your mouth, and as expected, they all heard about it. You’ve been lying about your knowledge this whole time, and Dainsleif grew a tad bit suspicious, but not suspicious enough. If you are to be trusted, you have to prove it. And no Abyss Mage has recognized you solely based on appearance. Well, that was a lead. An outlander… and an immortal… that would make sense--

Hold on.

You were an outlander, you were an immortal. Transported into this world called Teyvat after your imminent death, yet you cannot find a way out. Dainsleif, on the other hand, seemingly appeared out of nowhere, his clothes were not local, and the aura he was emanating was nothing short of ancient-- godly. Almost as if he was cursed. That would explain his neverending knowledge and his melancholic nature, no?

He was immortal. You figured that out. From the stories, he was telling Aether proved your point. Not only was he immortal, but he was also from Khaenri’ah... Well, probably. It was far from reality, but were you ever thinking in pursuit you could understand the reality of this world? Definitely not, you know only what you should, and you let secrets slip through your fingers as blood trickles down your fingertips, intoxicating, toxic, but it felt so fucking good. You zipped your mouth for this one, though, you want to know how this unfolds, and how this was connected to Aether’s sister.

Oh, if only they knew that you knew absolutely everything. However, a show will not be a hit if the plot twist is as predictable as the ending, that would be boring, would it not? A dubious swirl was seen in your eyes, yet no one seemed to comment on it.

You were terrifyingly accurate at deciphering and solving details together, yet Aether made a mistake to ignore the dubious smile painted on your eyes. “Is [Name] listening?” Paimon asked, and Chuuya nodded, saving you from suspicion. Paimon seemed to believe him, yet Dainsleif let his eyes linger on you for a short while before continuing his speech. You were able to piece things together as if they were building blocks, eyes swirling with Machiavellian intent. “I probably know more about Khaenri’ah than both of you.” You almost snorted in amusement, but you can’t do so. This was a serious conversation, you can’t laugh. You cant’t-- you can’t.

“A nation… without a god…?” Paimon said, sympathetic, yet astounded at Dainsleif’s remark. Well, our world had to listen to the rules of mortals who know nothing but power. You thought those who have led our world to corruption and despair are those who are led by greed alone. You were unfazed, if a world was led by mortals it was doomed to fall. The reasons being gods or not, it was proven that mortals alone cannot thrive without selfish desires. “Right, let’s keep moving, I will tell you more of what you want to know as we continue our search,” Dainsleif announced, his blue eyes shining with an emotion you could not decipher. Nevertheless, you followed them.

“So you’re saying… Khaenri’ah was destroyed because of the gods’ selfish desires?” You thought out loud, voice stern towards the tall man. He glanced at you and pursed his lips. “I have never said anything about the gods being selfish,” he sighed, “however, perceive it as you will.” You hummed in response, and Chuuya took his opportunity to sit on Dainsleif’s shoulder. The said man snapped his head to his left, and you chuckled at his behavior. “May I ask, what is this?” He pointed to where Chuuya was, and Chuuya squeaked in anger. “Oh~” You teased, “That’s Nakahara, a good friend of mine.” You smiled at him, and he nodded, albeit confused. “Friend?” He repeated, softly extending his pointer figure to pat its head. “Yeah, a… traveling companion of sorts.” you softly said, admiring the scene before you. You have to admit, Dainsleif carefully, and slowly patted Chuuya’s head with a ghost of a smile crossing his pretty face, and Chuuya leaning into his touch was kind of cute. A traveling companion, eh? Dainsleif inwardly questioned, wondering how you found a traveling companion as complex and… somehow insufferable as Nakahara. He had an idea of how you two came to be, yet he found no courage to voice any of the sorts out loud. Although, you both carry the same aura, the aura of the gods. But not the same aura of the gods he had despised, it was a divine aura coming from an unknown place entirely.

Just who are you? What are you? He wanted to voice these questions out loud, but he knew not to pry. Aether shortly made work of the Ruin Guards and remaining Abyss Mages on the area and quickly ran back to both of you. He silently chuckled at the scene before him, Dainsleif seemingly distracted by the wisp covered in orange particles. However, you weren’t bothered to listen to their ramblings about “Field Tillers” being the ruin guards, yet you can’t find yourself feeling any remorse for those Ruin Guards and Abyss Mages. The ones you have encountered, really. You wonder if there were any friendlier, more rebellious Abyss members than those present. Should you interrupt them, you would bring up tanks, really. Grenades and all the nostalgic stuff, you know?

“Mmm, he’s right, y’know?” You quipped, agreeing with Dainsleif’s previous statement. The trio looked at you, as a sign to continue, or a visibly perplexed reaction. “Their past does not matter if they have proven themselves to be a threat in the present days.” You added. Looking at them with sharp, dull eyes, a hint of experience lacing your tone. Well, you had a hard past, however, that didn’t matter in the eyes of your previous boss, and your previous experiences in the hands of death. “It’s a rhetorical statement, don’t think too much of it.” You reassured, flashing a smile they would mistake as real. There they go again, seeming as if they speak from experience. Dainsleif thought, however, that may be plausible. They don’t seem from this world, nor do they seem surprised at proclaims that were blown away in the winds of the ancient.

Another set of Abyss Mages were eradicated, and you listened to their conversation. Mainly because of curiosity, and your unquenchable desire for information. ‘Loom Of Fate’ was not a literal term, you knew that, the operation was more complex than what Aether and Paimon perceived it to be, and it seems that Dainsleif was aware of it as well. Dainsleif explained the Abyss Order’s plan in detail, and you, honestly, did not see that coming. You did not expect that organization to create a mechanized god to overthrow the divine above the faux sky you let yourself revel in. Their plan was intricate, forming side-plans yet executing its steps with precision and care as if its punishment was death. Aether and Paimon decided to go to the cathedral to withdraw information, yet you had other plans.

You and Dainsleif were currently outside the cathedral, Paimon and Aether beside you both. “A huge statue, a grandiose Cathedral… the people of Mondstadt clearly spent a great deal of resources and energy to construct them.” He annoyingly sighed, voice laced with subtle displeasure, towards the gods, of course. You huffed, and he continued. “But how aware of this was the Anemo Archon on receiving this gift, and how much did he give back in return?” He asked, sea blue hues trailing the figure of the statue in front of him. You, honestly, wanted to respond with something incredibly insulting, something along the lines of “draining the stock of Dandelion Wine, somewhere”. The thought was entirely joking, of course, yet you know it won’t be a good thing to joke about, really. “Probably nothing of value,” You grumbled under your breath, and to your disdain, Dainsleif heard it. He couldn’t resist the glint of amusement to overshadow his star-shaped pupils but decided not to comment on what you said. “Faith doesn’t ask for anything in return though, does it?” Paimon spoke up, and Dainsleif huffed, “Hmph, as long as the gods have a clear conscience about it all, there’s nothing I can say about it.” He ended. You wanted to speak against Paimon’s statement, even though faith shows the loyalty one has for their god, they always have something they want in return. Be it fortune or health, greed overpowers morals. “Shhh! We’re about to enter the cathedral. Don’t say anything bad about the Anemo Archon,” Paimon warned, putting her pointer finger in front of her mouth to signify her statement. Aether nodded his head, and Dainsleif wasn’t fazed. “And actually, the Anemo Arch--” You interrupted her before she could finish her sentence, “I did not agree to come to the cathedral, now, did I?” You said, sharp eyes locking with wide, dark purple ones. Your stare-- to her, it felt like a glare-- scared her, and jumped, hiding behind Aether.

Dainsleif chuckled, his baritone voice cutting the tense atmosphere. “[Name] and I won’t enter the cathedral. We’ll leave you two to mingle with the sisters.” He said with closed arms, and you snickered in response. “Yeah,” You agreed, yet almost feeling remorseful at Aether’s dejected look. “But we did everything together.” Aether tried to reason, honestly, he wanted you to come with him. “Oh? Are you going to miss me that much?” You teased, looking at him with tantalizing eyes, smirk widening at his rose-tinted cheeks. Dainsleif observed you two, blinking at your interaction. “[Naaaaame], stop teasing!” Paimon whined, although, Aether’s flush on his cheeks that was a silent plea for you to stop, riled you up even more. You laughed, your sultry voice flustering the outlander even more. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” You admitted, “Maybe.” Grinning, you turned to the man beside you, and before you could utter a word, he spoke up. “You are the Honorary Knight of Mondstadt. They will surely allow you to poke into these affairs with their utmost trust.” He explained in-depth, while you shrugged your shoulders in disdain, how naive, you thought. So, utterly, pathetically, naive. Chuuya hasn’t said anything in a while, yet he seemed to be resting on your shoulder, again. Curled up in a ball, you only heard of the sounds his orange particles make, he was subtle in his hiding, though, occasionally going inside your breast pocket to avoid being seen.

You agreed to whatever Dainsleif had to say, honestly, you despised the citizens of the city of Freedom. They were outrageous, incompetent, and infuriating. You weren’t one to pry on the matters of those you deem irrelevant, yet they couldn’t keep their filthy hands off of you, can’t they? They were insatiable, both in power and in knowledge. Perhaps they weren’t so different from those in your world. Acting as if they were a blessing from the gods, to earn a title they would use to their advantage despite their many, many sins. Hearing Aether’s footsteps fade away, you closed your eyes. The wind kissed your face gently, coat moving side to side. “How irritating.” You whispered.

“Hm? Who?” Dainsleif queried his hands behind his back. He kept his eyes situated on your form, enamored by your quiet, serious demeanor. He admired you for your duality in personality, seriousness in combat and when need be, as well as your shared hatred for the gods. “If I say… Barbatos, will he hear me?” You retorted, and his lips crinkled up the tiniest bit in amusement. “Perhaps, if he actually listens.” Dainsleif hopped on to your bit, making you chuckle softly. “Oh? Well, then, I hope he takes these insults to heart,” You smirked, “The God of Freedom is only duty-bound to.” In all his years of roaming the land he grew to despise slowly, he found you more interesting than details he has yet to find answers to.

A certain bard’s eye twitched, unnoticeable to many, feeling irritation bubbling in his stomach. He kept it subtle, though, opting to request for more drinks. Oh, he heard you, alright. You laughed at the thought of the Archon hearing you, and Dainsleif raised a brow in response. “You’re a non-believer as well, I trust?” You halted your laughter, staring at the man beside you. A non-believer? You have witnessed the power of the Archons in person, some of which have learned to avoid you. You did believe in their existence, however, witnessing it made you do so. You don’t believe in the blessings that they were told to give, the gifts and the songs only being of no use to the Archon you oh-so despised. You remained persistent in your own beliefs, ignoring every whisper of your name paired with a degrading remark about your presence. “I wouldn’t say… non-believer,” You uttered, emphasizing your last word, “I just disrespect them, actually.” You admitted, slight embarrassment coating your tone and your features. He hummed in response, and silence followed-- comfortable silence. You two relished in the silence provided to you both, feeling safe in each other’s presence.

Having someone that could relate to him made Dainsleif happier than he initially expected. He was a curious man, one who was insatiable for information, and you made it all the more worse. You were a dreamer-- one who was really never attached to reality unless required to. The reality you are put in has failed your dreams about your ideal reality, forever choosing to savor the reality you have dreamt of, faux. It works, either way, a faux, broken dream has always been better than a corrupted, distorted reality. Ah, but who were you to disrespect the gods in such a manner, they have made this world as perfect as a children’s dream, no?

A child’s dream was as fragile as a heart, they were meant to be broken in pursuit of understanding the world as it is. A lie, a hoax, a fraud, was a child’s dream. Distorted and altered to seem like a perfect world to live in, a child’s dream was never meant to stay intact. “Do you disrespect the believers?” You asked in return, and a tantalizing glint appeared in Dainsleif’s sapphire eyes, “No.” He breathed out, “Who am I to dislike those who remain naive in the hands of their renowned archon? Those who persevere shall suffer more than others witnessing the horrible truth.” He recited, and you nodded in understanding. Should you ever remain persistent in your own beliefs will be the cause of your downfall. The archons were no exception. Of course, you wouldn’t disrespect the Archons too much, however, under that closed-off, intimidating facade of yours, lies ongoing complaints and unflattering remarks to those you disliked, well, really, it would be enough to send a grown man crying if you have ever voiced anything that comes to mind.

After a few moments of talking, Aether and Paimon returned, the pixie seemingly overjoyed at your presence. “Paimon missed you!” She exclaimed, while you simply smirked at her. “Who, now? Me or Dainsleif?” You asked tauntingly, and Dainsleif simply rolled his eyes. Paimon flushed in embarrassment, uttering a ‘both of you' under her breath, while you raised a brow. Aether waved to you both, sending a smile to you and Dainsleif. He spoke about what he has learned and what Barbara has told him, and Dainsleif hummed in approval. “I see… Has the Abyss Order already launched a new operation…?” He questioned, more to him than to Aether, glancing at you for a split second. There’s no way, isn’t there? You’re not siding with the Abyss, that much is obvious. Yet, there seems to be a fragment of suspicion put on you. You inwardly sighed, Chuuya taking note of your, seemingly rare, mood drop. Despite everything you tried to escape from, suspicion was the exception. Hell, even Dainsleif, one who stirs away from being seen to be suspected, was suspicious of you.

He wasn’t. Truly, he weighed all the options, and none of it resulted in you siding with the Abyss. Dainsleif glanced at you due to how alluring you were, how composed and tranquil you seemingly were amidst their predicament. He noted your silent and unintelligible aura, but as soon as you stepped in Wolvendom, it disappeared. “Ah! The Abyss Order!” Paimon shrieked, pulling Dainsleif out of his thoughts. “Don’t underestimate the enemy. Let’s take them now.” He ordered. Aether nodded, and he made quick work of the Abyss Mages. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Paimon clapped her tiny hands together, and she exclaimed, “Whew… There sure are a lot of enemies around here!” well, couldn’t it be more obvious? You thought, deadpanning at her revelation. “The closer we get to our target, the more enemies there are.” Dainsleif scoffed, “fits the Abyss Order’s style.” Aether ignored his comment, swift in reminding the rest to find Lupus Boreas.

You do not want to follow Aether. You have heard tell of the Wolf of the North, one that was related to the gods, one who has willingly offered himself as a servant to the Seven. That, you did not want to be in contact with. Earning approval from Lupus Boreas sickens you to your core, the respect of one who has lost all respect for themselves to offer everything to the seven has no respect left to give to you. Although you choose not to say anything, simply uttering a “No” to his invitation, merely smiling in an unsaid apology. Aether took the hint then. Dainsleif, however, spoke up, saying that he won’t go any further, unconsciously drawing closer to you. Not that you mind, though. His presence is comforting, anyway. “Huh? Why not? Is it because you’re afraid of fluffy animals?” Paimon asked, surprisingly genuine at her question. “That’s… probably not i--” Aether was interrupted by your laughter. Covering your mouth, you tried to stop the giggles from falling out, however, that was proved futile. The joke was not even funny, yet here you were, laughing at Paimon’s question.

What makes it even funnier was that she was genuinely confused. Your laughter ceased, sending an apologetic smile to Dainsleif, and clearing your throat. “My, that was highly unprofessional of me.” You wheezed out, blinking your eyes, to remove the newly formed tears from laughing heartily. Dainsleif looked at you in slight annoyance yet was subtle in keeping his composure. He continued his speech, while you stared at the fuming Chuuya on your side. Oh. you woke him up due to your laughing. Tapping his head gently, he looked at you with his eyes slanted, an indication that he was angry. He looked like a bobblehead figure. Too entertained by this, you don’t notice the stares you were getting from Aether and Paimon. “[Name]?! [Name]?!” Paimon interjected, making you look at her with eyes swirling with confusion. “We’re going now,” Aether told you, and you nodded in response. “Good luck, then.” You whispered, yet, Aether smiled and you know you saw a faint blush on his cheeks.

He was never used to anything remotely positive coming out of your mouth, especially if it was directed to you. Dainsleif cleared his throat, “Well, enough chit-chat. We should get back to business. I will go take care of the remaining Abyss Order members in the area with [Name],” He looks at you for approval, and you nodded in response. “Try and keep your visit with Boreas brief. Afterward, let’s meet at the entrance to Wolvendom.” Swift as his directions were, swift as well as how he left. Grabbing your wrist gently, he led you to where he suspected enemies might be. He didn’t grab your wrist too tightly, afraid that he may hurt you, although his concerns vanished when you smiled-- quite awkwardly-- at him. Letting go of your wrist, Dainsleif looked behind his shoulder, “Are you okay?” He asked, concern evident in his tone. “Yeah, yeah.” You answered, fixing the collar of your shirt. “You’ve gotta help me, alright?” He asked, a slight tease interlaced within his tone,

Scoffing, you shook your head. “Yeah, of course. What else am I here for, anyway?” You were here for Aether. That much was obvious, yet, aside from your companion’s goals and desires to reunite with his sister, you were selfish, wanting to quench your insatiable thirst for the whereabouts of your previous friends. You know they aren’t dead, surely, they aren’t dead. You have met Chuuya, there’s a chance you would meet Akutagawa, no? Maybe someone else? Right? Right?

Holding on to unlikely desires will only prevent the inevitable despair in finding out the horrible truth. Yet you were stubborn-- stubborn in your own motives. You were always one to be impulsive when need be. You weren’t human-- you weren’t accepted. You lived in this world with a heavy heart and a story to tell, yet it seems that many have never looked past your rough exterior. In you, was an even rougher interior. You can only hope that one never bothers to pry. (although, unbeknownst to you, many are itching to find where you came from. A certain Cavalry Captain, to be precise.) You did not even have a weapon to defend yourself at this moment, you didn’t need one, anyway. “So, Dainsleif,” You called him in between pants, saying his name breathlessly, and he turned to you, staring at your disheveled form. Did you look absolutely stunning--

Hey.

Stop that.

You chuckled, “Why’d you get to stand there pretty while I get in the action?” You breathed out, and although a flick of your wrist was enough to obliterate any enemies on your way, but hey, should your ability prevent you from thrill, you would miss out on the fun, would you not? That doesn’t really suit your style. Meanwhile, Dainsleif chose to ignore what you have said to him. “Help me here!” You exclaimed, dodging another one of the hilichurl’s arrows, sending a wave of energy to the remaining opponents. “Well,” You cracked your knuckles, wiping your forehead due to sweat, “Care to take care of those, now?” You said, and Dainsleif merely looked over you to see your tantalizing smile. “Right, right.” He let a smirk grace his features, and he ran to where the enemies were situated. This bitch is fast-- “Hey! Wait!” You sped up to him, and he, uncharacteristically, let out a dubious swirl shine through his eyes.

Safe to say that you two bantered more in battle. Although, he let his serious mood slip, showing you a side of him that he has never shown anyone. Well, aside from her. It wasn’t hard for Dainsleif to open up to you slowly, quickly realizing that you two are one and the same. You were selfish as he is, and you were as persistent as he viewed himself to be. And while that may seem uncanny, you two were driven by different motives, and you, you were a mystery as you are. An enigma that even the prodigal scholars of Sumeru could not decipher. One could only assume where you came from and what you are.

Dainsleif remained stoic once you two were done with the enemies, yet you sensed a familiar presence near you. However, you did not know where it was, yet the faint whoosh of a coat alerted your senses. Dainsleif whipped his head to the direction-- indicating that he, as well, heard it. All that was left was but anything of what you have expected. Too busy staring in the direction you swore you heard something, Dainsleif grabbed your wrist and yanked you to the side, making you let out a soft yelp. He quickly apologized softly and added, “Jean is there. Stay quiet, yeah?” He shifted his blue eyes to you, while you muttered a simple ‘right’ in response.

“STAY QUIET, YEAH ''????? OH YEAH, I’LL DEFINITELY STAY SILENT.

“Is she gone?” You whispered, the pacing thoughts in your head unrelenting. Jean definitely didn’t have a coat on, right? It could be-- no.

No, of course not! It couldn’t be him! If Chuuya was a wisp he surely wouldn’t be human, now, would he? You weren’t human. You were immortal, otherworldly, inhumane in everyone’s eyes. It would only be fair that your expectations were far from reality. “Yes, she is.” Standing up, you stretched your arms, preventing curiosity from emitting from your figure. However, Dainsleif was as curious as you were. A few more minutes were devoted to abolishing the Abyss Order in the area, returning to where you and Aether split up. “I have a rough idea as to where the first Ruin Guard is located.” You blurted out mindlessly, focusing your eyes on the trail before you.

Upon spotting your familiar silhouette, Aether rushed to you, Paimon trailing from behind him. You gave them a wave of acknowledgment. “Dain, [Name], there you are. Did you both see Master Jean?” Paimon asked breathlessly, probably from flying. “I saw her, and purposefully avoided her,” Dainsleif spoke up, while you nodded your head in confirmation.

You noticed Aether being hesitant to speak to you-- about something. They encountered the Abyss Herald again, didn’t they? Have they told Aether something about you? The Abyss Order-- nay in all the world-- has ever gotten close to extracting information from you. So, what have they done? Well, has the Abyss Herald said anything about you?

“[Name], a word, please,” Aether said, making Dainsleif look at you in confusion-- and attentiveness. “Ah, okay?” Was it something bad? You didn’t know. The look painted on Aether’s face has prepared you for the worst. “Are… are you sure that you are unaware of the Abyss Order?” Oh shit. You froze, the gesture going unnoticed. “Why, have I ever lied to you?” You asked, sinisterly sweet, and Dainsleif had to hold himself from clicking his tongue. Were you this mysterious that even those who share similar attributes to you would easily be fooled by how you present yourself as? Maybe so, but those with a silver tongue consider manipulation their best friend. Aether did not know how to respond to that, he knows you haven’t lied to him, he knows you will never lie to him. (He was right, you had to admit. You never had the courage to lie to one who has shown loyalty to you without hesitation.) “Besides, I have told you everything I have known, have I not?” You said in an indistinct tone. Sharp eyes locking with golden ones, your hues flickering with an emotion he could only decipher as slight hurt.

Oh, how wrong he was. Aether was easy to coax, a cajoleric look in your eyes replaced with faux hurt, further persuading Aether that you were telling the truth. You were never candid in speaking, opting to sway the conversation onto your own hands, to control the matter at hand. Your attempts were never futile, even in this life, it seems. “...Ah.” The golden traveler muttered, “The Abyss Herald mentioned you while we were talking to them. I…” He trailed off, looking at Paimon. The pixie nodded, “Yeah! He mentioned you,” She nodded, moving in the air. “They said,” Paimon paused, and lowered her voice, “‘You haven’t brought [Name]... I see… one of which an idiosyncratic individual has requested for their location’.” She ended, clearing her throat. You blinked, processing the words she uttered to you. A unique individual requested for my whereabouts, eh? You thought, letting your chin rest on your palm, resembling a thinking position. They’re probably like Aether’s sibling… considering how highly the Abyss Herald thinks of them. “No. I have never heard of whom they speak of, nor am I interested to know.” You dismissed their claim with a stern voice. Letting your hand fall to your side, you locked your sharp, calculating eyes with Aether’s, and he nodded stiffly to your response. Then again, you were never recognized in Teyvat, you attempted to ascertain any suspects that showed any signs of recognition. Most were futile, who were you to care? It was to be expected.

Oh.

It couldn’t be anyone you were thinking of, no? You were certain that those you have cherished were wiped out of this world, the empty promise of meeting in another life would be one you would regret saying insincerely. You have never had regrets, although, in this life, all could change in just a simple realization. Keeping that far-fetched thought at the back of your head, you faced the group. Dainsleif was currently talking about how he discerned the location of the first ruin guard, and your thoughts were deemed correct indirectly. Stormterror’s Lair… So I was right. A wave of pride washed over you, going unnoticed by the two outlanders, yet Dainsleif was able to catch up.

Arriving at the Lair took more energy than needed, especially after using your ability since-- how many years was it? You don’t know. Resting your head behind the pillars, you were able to make sure you overheard their conversation. Something about a certain prototype that could ‘overthrow the divine thrones of Celestia’, and honestly, you could care less. Whatever happens, happens. Who were you to decide? You were one from another world, cursed to witness the downfall of another. You clicked your tongue due to your never-ending thoughts, tapping your forehead in hopes for them to disappear. Chuuya, well, Chuuya had been unresponsive since your pair-up with Dainsleif. Only blinking and flying like a certain pixie whenever you encountered enemies. Silent, as he is, methodical, was his thoughts. You remember his cobalt blue eyes having an omnipresent swirl of malevolence and hatred. You sigh, softly caressing Chuuya’s head while the latter let out a hum of content. They then were talking about an eye that Aether was unable to retrieve using his gifted elemental powers, and that eye was the sole reason why the Abyss Mages were around ruin guards. You can’t hide an eye from the organization that has sacrificed their lives in hopes to look for that specific eye, they’ll find it regardless. Rolling your eyes, you managed a small smile to spread across your face at Dainsleif’s remark. Destroy the Statue of the Seven! It may mean the world to the land of the wind, however, you just really don’t care. A gift from the gods or not, it is completely useless in your eyes. (The Archons as well. If one mortal would be able to rival their combat prowess and their twisted morals, then one does not deserve the title of being an Archon.)

Trudging back to the ruins, now entering, you did not expect this place to carry a sense of familiarity-- it was way too uncanny to what you compare this place to. Paimon’s complaints entered your ears, yet you were too focused on the path at hand. Grabbing Dainsleif’s coat, you held on to it so as to not accidentally lose yourself in the ruins. Dainsleif gave you a questioning gaze, however, he ignored your gesture after observing your current state. The four of you have arrived at the Defiled Statue, carefully observing its appearance and the odd energy it was holding. “Be careful to not be overwhelmed by the power of the Defiled Statue--” his breathing hitched, “The Abyss Herald, it’s here.” Snapping your head behind you, you swore you landed your eyes on one of the ugliest things ever. “You are as vexatious as ever, Dainsleif, enemy of the Abyss!-- Oh?” The Abyss Herald turned to you, “Oh, [Name], you are here, finally!” The Abyss Herald seemed overjoyed, “The princess has been awaiting your arrival! Along with another guest.” What? You blinked, choosing to say silent. Your eyes were as sharp as ever, glaring at the Abyss Herald with a look that could kill even the bravest fighters. “I sense your soul is stained by terrible bloodshed, perhaps from your darkest nightmares. Unless… Huh?” The Abyss Herald trailed off and seemed to have a moment of realization. “Oh, and something far more dangerous! You reek of a corruption familiar to me… And you! [Name]! What a unique soul! One who is intertwined with the honored guest of the Princess! Bloodthirsty and vengeful, how similar.” You closed your eyes, focusing on the inevitable battle that was stirring itself in the experience. You felt Aether and Paimon’s eyes on you, yet you choose not to acknowledge them,

“I am not one with a soul purely white.” You announced, “may God above curse me with all there is, my soul remains forever tainted with red.” opening your eyes to look at the Abyss Herald, “one’s soul is never intertwined with another albeit similar. God loves all to love none.” God? Aren’t there multiple? Aether thought while the Abyss Herald laughed heartily, “Then we are the same. We’re both dangerous, and imaginative. But dangers from outside the Abyss Order must be caught and caged, that includes you, [Name].” It said, “for you have shown persistence in our invitation, we have no choice but to end you.” Glancing at Paimon and Aether, you gave them an apologetic smile at their worried faces.

As Dainsleif and Aether fight against the Abyss Herald, you send subtle, yet powerful blows to the enemy. You were slowly gaining the upper hand, eyes swirling with bloodlust and blood flowing with adrenaline, you had encountered the unexpected.

Lumine. She’s here.

I knew it. Clicking your tongue, you stood up, shoving Chuuya in your breast pocket. The wisp seemed to get the message, and it hid there. “Aether…” She uttered, oh wow. She was gorgeous--

Not the time.

“Your sister, and the Abyss…” Paimon slowly connected the dots together. You’ve seen this coming. You’ve foreshadowed this one too many times. And while the rest were awestruck, you were slowly growing impatient. Who was the Honored Guest? Show me. Show me. Show me. Show me show meshowmeshowme--

“You shouldn’t team up with this man,” Lumine said, hatred lacing her tone. “He is my enemy.” Oh? You flickered your keen eyes to the twins, Dainsleif shrouded in nostalgia and regret. “Lumine!” for fucks sake, listen to your twin already! You wanted to scream, wanting them to reunite as you want them to. As you were listening, Lumine shifted her eyes to you, staring at you in complete distaste. “You.” Looking at her in mutual apathy, tension too thick for the audience. “Heed my words. Do not stop me. For one has your companion in my hands, and to halt the Abyss is to break the relationship between you two.” You raised a brow, “Companion?” You repeated. Shit, should I…? “Dazai Osamu?” You whispered, and you swore you saw Lumine’s eyes widen for a split second. “You… Yes, precisely. He is named Dazai.”

What the fuck.

No. what the actual fuck.

This couldn’t be real, no, no, no, this-- this shouldn’t be real.

Dazai… Dazai... That fucker. He was one you trusted in your past life, and for you to be abandoned as if this was after Odasaku’s death gave you a wave of hatred to be present in your eyes. Chuuya tensed, as well. Completely frozen in your pocket, as if he dreaded this day would come.

Denial was one you have never experienced. Denial was what you were experiencing right now. He shouldn’t be here he-- if he was, why didn’t he look for you? Why didn’t he bother trying to look for one he has cherished all his life-- only to join the opposition, again?

History repeats itself. That was the saying.

Dazai was a man who had no one to turn to and he found you; although, to turn to you again would prove that Dazai loved you more than he’d like to admit. And to dismiss that fact would cost a relationship he never wanted to lose. He lived with a broken heart and uncompleted desires; living a life that prevented him from dying would only make him resort to another thing.

If he couldn’t end his own life, he would end those who gave him life, who made him feel human.

And for one to truly die is to be no longer human.

In this life and in the previous, you two were enemies in love with each other. One can fall in love and still hate, after all.

“Home…” Lumine muttered, “Yes, of course. ‘Home’ is wherever we are together.” She smiled, bittersweetly. You did not bother to listen to their conversation. Home…

Where was home? In the arms of Elysian, or in the arms of your previous life? Suicide was one of Dazai’s great desires.

Drowning yourself in the bottomless ocean of past memories was akin to suicide, painful, successful.

Were you silent? Were you subtle? You don’t know. Your heart speaks. You can’t be silent.

Dazai Osamu was a coward. A coward who, although remarkably intelligent, unpredictable, talented, was a coward who sacrifices those dear to him in fear that he was delaying the inevitable.

He was a coward for leaving you although he knows that would damage your relationship.

Dazai Osamu was a coward for leaving you alone with his heart in your hands.

He was a coward. And if he was for that sole reason, you are too.

2021 © kachuuyaa. do not steal or claim my work as your own.

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