#O i am fortunes fool

[solacedeer]

Romeo is me because i’m an overdramatic. Mousse is my Rosalie

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

the urge to write harrison hysterically crying in a church <3

[yisanged]

my terrible horrible son who has cost me so much time and masking tape. i hope i never have to look at him again [he will be going into my english teacher's ceiling where i will have to see him every day for the rest of the year and maybe more if i take jr or sr humanities]

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℱ𝒶𝓉ℯ

Masterlist

Warnings- angst, gender neutral reader

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Apollo knew Luke’s fate. Apollo knew that Luke would betray the Gods, which is exactly why he had tried to keep you away from him.

He knew that Luke’s fate would cause your heart to break, cause you to fall down a dark path.

Apollo knew you both were literally written in the stars, he knew you both would end up together no matter how much he tried to prevent it.

Apollo knew that you would never get over Luke.

“Luke, what are you talking about?” Your voice cracked, much like your heart was. You stared at the boy, his eyes glossy with tears welling in his eyes.

“Please. I can’t live without you, but I can’t just… I can’t go back to camp.” He spoke, taking a deep breath, remembering how Annabeth and Percy had reacted to this minutes before he ran to you.

“Why not? Luke, what’d you do?” Your grip on your sword tightened.

The way you held your sword in front of you broke his heart. You felt the need to have it out, you felt the need to protect yourself against him.

It was supposed to be him protecting you.

“I cant go back.” Was all he said, repeating his words. “Please, just… come with me to Tartarus. Help me-“

“I can’t go with you to Tartarus. What about my siblings? What about camp? The only fuckin’ place I know, Luke!” Your asked, voice raising now. He looked around worriedly and you scoffed.

“Who are you? You’re not Luke.”

“I love you.” He said, the tears falling down his face now.

“And I love you too. But, Luke, I can’t do it. I can’t.”

He knew his time was up when the others came into the woods, with lanterns, shouting his name out.

He glanced at them and back at you. He knew that the sight of your face would forever be engraved into his mind, he would remember it for as long as he lived.

He ran back into the direction he came from, deep into the woods and to the portal.

You choked out a sob when he left, dropping your sword and leaning against a tree.

As shakespeare once wrote, “O, I am fortunes fool!”

[itsdeniini]

˙✧˖°🍊 How would Enhypen members cope with a breakup? ˚ʚ𖹭ɞ˚࿔*:･ﾟ☾ : a tarot reading (#❀)

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ n o t e : i am a self-taught tarot reader, and the interpretations i provide are personal. if anyone would like to share their own insights, i would be more than happy to hear them! please be kind <3

..❀!HEESEUNG

first stage ➜ the hermit, judgment, 4 of wands

Heeseung copes with a breakup by initially retreating into himself, seeking more privacy to process his emotions. There is also a phase where he reflects deeply on the relationship and what led to its end. He is likely to analyze every detail, seeking rightness for himself, weighing his actions and the lessons learned. During this introspective period he finds peace in rest and meditation, allowing his mind and heart to heal.

second stage ➜ 8 of cups, the chariot, the star

As time passes, the cards show Heeseung making a conscious decision to move on, acknowledging that the relationship no longer serves his higher purpose. He feels a sudden determination and willpower to overcome the emotional turmoil, propelling him forward with a renewed sense of direction. His innate passion shines a light on his hopeful outlook as he begins to envision a brighter future and new possibilities with another person.

third stage ➜ 3 of cups, knight of pentacles, the world

Gradually, Heeseung understands that he finds comfort in the support of close friends and family and that they are the most important people in life, celebrating small joys and building new connections. His focus is on personal growth and stability, channeling his energy into work or creative pursuits. Finally, he reaches the completion of this cycle as he emerges stronger and more self-aware, ready to embrace new beginnings with an open heart.

..❀!JAY

first stage ➜ page of wands, 3 of pentacles, 3 of cups

Jay copes with a breakup by diving headfirst into his passions and hobbies, using them as a form of therapy. He doesn't want to suffer much; on the contrary, he gets a lot of enthusiasm for new projects and experiences, keeping himself busy to avoid dwelling on the past. He is turning to his artistic side a lot, finding solace in creativity and expression.

second stage ➜ 4 of swords, knight of cups, 10 of pentacles

While processing his emotions, Jay seeks out his close friends (most probably the members) for support and distraction. This sensation that he has the support of his brothers helps him through the tough times, reminding him of the joy and brotherhood in his life. Just like Heeseung, he also takes time for introspection, understanding the situation and how he can grow from it and not repeat this mistake again.

third stage ➜ 8 of cups, wheel of fortune, the fool

As he begins to heal, Jay's romantic nature flourishes, allowing him to feel and express his emotions authentically to other potential partners. He also finds comfort in the stability of his family and home life, strength in their love and support, and all that thanks to Jay's strong bond with his relatives. Jay acknowledges the need to let go of the past and embrace new opportunities. And what's interesting is that a breakup might even benefit him! Maybe this experience will inspire him to do something job-related, hm? There is a turning point in Jay's life where he embraces change and accepts the ebb and flow of relationships. He emerges from the breakup with newfound wisdom and maturity, ready to embark on a new chapter.

..❀!JAKE

first stage ➜ 8 of pentacles, knight of wands, king of swords

Jake copes with a breakup by throwing himself into his work and personal projects, using them as a distraction and a way to channel his emotions. Yes, another member who dives deep into his occupations to avoid thinking about this painful experience! He will get ten times more dedicated to his craft, immersing himself in tasks to keep his mind occupied. He may also seek physical activities (ex: running, boxing, swimming) or challenges to help release pent-up energy.

second stage ➜ 3 of cups, 5 of cups, ace of swords

During this time, Jake may distance himself from emotional conversations, preferring to focus on practical matters. He has a strong need for clarity and logic, approaching the situation with a rational mindset. He also enjoys the moments of laughter amidst the sadness, which means he also needs his significant others to be close to him. As he processes the breakup, Jake's initial feelings of loss and disappointment may come again. He is most probably the member who would mourn the end of his relationship the most, being unable for a long time to let it go. However, there is a breakthrough moment where he gains a new perspective and begins to see the silver lining. This silver lining leads him forward and gives Jake a cure from the pain of the past and towards calmer waters; his journey guides him towards healing and acceptance.

third stage ➜ 6 of swords, the sun, 10 of cups

A renewed sense of optimism as Jake rediscovers his zest for life and embraces new possibilities, yay, dude! With a lot of emotional fulfillment and contentment, Jake is finally emerging from the breakup with a deeper understanding of himself and what he truly values in life.

..❀!SUNGHOON

first stage ➜ knight of cups, 3 of cups, the hanged man

Sunghoon copes with a breakup by seeking out new experiences and adventures, using them for what? Yeah, a way to distract himself and find happiness. His romantic and sensitive nature will lead him to explore his emotions through creative outlets related to art. He will also turn to his friends (EMHYPEN!!!) for support, finding comfort in their company, and sharing experiences. It would be easier for him to talk about this with someone who has been through the same thing as him, as this person understands his pain better. There are vibes like the first member he will go after a breakup will be Jake, and that will be an EMOTIONAL convo, where they will be sharing their, "Bro, they did you so wrong! What a huge lose for them! Screw it, it's fine! At least you have me who understands you the best, heh."

second stage ➜ 5 of cups, ace of cups, the empress

The healing period! A new emotional beginning for Sunghoon, where he opens himself up to love, looks like he's the type that can jump into a new relationship shortly after a breakup. He will give it a try just to see how this will influence himself. Will he be happier that way, or maybe it will be a bit of a decision made in a hurry? Also, this stage is defined by nurturing and self-care, as he focuses on taking care of himself and his well-being. Sunghoon may also find comfort in nature, finding tranquility in its beauty. Hiking, fishing and many other outdoor activities, that's the best solution for him at this time in his life.

third stage ➜ 10 of pentacles, the star, the lovers

A sense of stability and security, as Sunghoon finds comfort in his new lover. He may also throw himself into his work or even start studying new things that were strange or even weird for him in the past, finding some sort of fulfillment and purpose in his career realizations. He is sensing a lot of faith and confidence in himself, being sure that his new boo will not betray his feelings and love him endlessly.

..❀!SUNOO

first stage ➜ the hermit, 4 of swords, queen of cups

Sunoo copes with a breakup by searching solace in self-reflection. Sunoo is brooding over his behavior during the relationship, trying to understand if he was in fact the main problem, if he was giving everything to his partner, if he was physically enough, interesting enough, beautiful enough, se- WELL... in three words: Was he enough? It's giving the top two members that are coping the hardest with a breakup, as the introspection goes WILD in his case. He spends a lot of time understanding his emotions and the reasons behind the separation. He may find consolation in little pleasant things that happen in his life; we all know Sunoo's emotions that he's posting on Twitter/X, yeah? That's his way to reflect on things that are on his mind, through the landscape that he's sightseeing attentively and then capturing them into photos. That's a good way to achieve mental recovery, and Sunoo is so smart for that.

second stage ➜ the moon, 3 of cups, page of cups

Sunoo's gentle and empathetic nature helps him process his feelings deeply. He allows himself to feel his emotions fully, whether it's sadness, anger, or confusion. If he wants to cry, he will cry about it the whole night if that means that he'll feel better. Yes, it may look like an emotional roller-coaster, and he needs to preoccupy himself with something else, something that is more efficient than just sorrowing over this failed relationship. But who are we to judge him, hm? That's his way to go through things, and that's okay; we are all different after all. He'll face this uncertainty and inner fears, but that's what will make him stronger, starting with the third stage.

third stage ➜ ace of cups, 6 of swords, the sun

EMOTIONAL CONTENTMENT! Basically, he cried enough to leave this in the past. Sunoo starts to open his heart to new people; in his case, I don't think it's a new lover, nah! I think he'll meet a bunch of new friends and work colleagues that will help him a lot throughout this time lapse. Those people will make him feel hopeful about the future. He will also show a big transition, like most probably he will change something majorly in himself, appearance or career wise. From now on, he will be constantly at peace and will know how to express his acceptance in many aspects of his life. He's moving forward with a clearer and lighter heart, which is good for him.

..❀!JUNGWON

first stage ➜ the emperor, 3 of cups, 4 of swords

Jungwon copes with a breakup by envisioning structure and trying to create stability in his daily routine. He focuses on maintaining order in his life, as if living by a calendar. This boy also looks like he'll be desperate for a reunion, clinging with his kitty paws to his boo and counting the days since they parted ways. Either way, even if a reunion is impossible, he will just continue to follow his discipline and make himself responsible in this complicated navigation through his emotional turmoil, since Jungwon realizes that he understands his own emotions poorly and he should take control amidst this chaos of feelings.

second stage ➜ 8 of pentacles, the strength, the hermit

Jungwon tries to lift his spirit by constantly reminding himself that it's not the end of the world after a breakup. There are still a lot of meaningful people present in his life, and he shouldn't be afraid of anything. Thanks to his diligent focus, he will feel grounded and purposeful. His inner resilience and courage will come out from the depths of his consciousness; this shawty is about to do something CRAZY with his life during the second stage. He will rely on his inner strength to overcome the emotional challenges. Well, it looks like Jake will have a boxing buddy...

third stage ➜ 6 of swords, the sun, king of cups

Soul-searching period... Hmm, I think Jungwon will be extremely determined to find his twin flame, soulmate, or future spouse (call it whatever you want, lol). Until this time, he will grow a lot personally and emotionally, and he will recover as well, moving towards a calmer state of mind. He will have a clear vision of who he wants to have as a lifetime partner, avoiding quick hookups, as now he's mature enough and has a greater understanding of his personal life structure. In conclusion, he's a self-aware king, period.

..❀!NI-KI

first stage ➜ 7 of cups, the moon, the devil

Ni-ki copes with a breakup by indulging in fantasies or daydreams and imagining different outcomes or possibilities for the future. That's weird; that's suspicious... It's like he's not even trying to forget about this person, as if he's intended to get this lover back, and there's no word such as breakup in his vocabulary. Maybe he'll even try to create a plan for making this person return to him, like writing them declarations of love and things like, "It won't happen again, honey! It was my fault; please forgive me." If, in Jungwon's case, he will just respect this person's decision and leave them alone, then Ni-ki will be a bit of a.. tormentor.

second stage ➜ 5 of cups, 8 of cups, the tower

He's feeling a lot of disappointment; this feeling of loss is eating him from the inside. He may start to get disoriented about important things, slacking off and not paying attention to the things that used to bring him joy in the past. He may also get detached from the people that he considers close. It really looks like a mess, and that breakup will probably hit him hard. He may need to confront emotions head-on and allow himself to grieve the end of the relationship. He will need somehow to get into a period of upheaval and change and force himself to reevaluate his priorities and beliefs, because if he remains in that sudden shock forever, then things may get ugly...

third stage ➜ death, the chariot, 3 of cups

Everything depends on him. If he is ready for a rebrand of himself, then that will be a huge improvement from the emotional disorder in the second stage. He should put all of his anger into the artistic field; he'll get mad as hell and serve a top-tier performance or write a song about his grief, and seeing the support he's getting from the public, he will be able to particularly forget about this and move his attention to the things that make him thrive.

➜ That was it, thanks for reading! ^.^ Notes and engagements are always welcome, baes <3 ilyyy

[scroogemcducksbastardchild]

i'm not reblogging this directly so as not to derail, but i think this line gets misinterpreted pretty regularly within the fandom and i wanted to go over that + offer my interpretation :3

the original line it's referencing comes from act 3, scene 1 of romeo and juliet, after romeo kills tybalt to avenge mercutio:

tybalt falls benvolio: romeo, away, begone! the citizens are up, and tybalt slain. sound not amazed. the prince will doom thee death if thou art taken. hence, be gone, away. romeo: o, i am fortune's fool!

here, romeo is remarking on his bad luck after being effectively doomed by fate (and more broadly, the narrative). to atone for tybalt's murder, romeo has to leave verona on pain of death, pretty much because he found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

the line can also apply to his relationship with juliet. had circumstances been different, she and romeo could have had a happy life together. it was fate that kept them apart, not a lack of love. fortune would have them on opposite sides.

will's arc, however, was set into motion because of hannibal. he was manipulated into killing gjh and then eventually randall tier, although tier's murder was more by will's volition than hannibal's. then in season 3b, after will has found stability with molly, hannibal returns and gets will to kill again.

i think that if will hadn't met hannibal, he would have had a chance at a happy, normal life, or as close to one as he could get. will's relationship with molly was an attempt to reclaim that life from hannibal- to save himself from hannibal's perception of him. but hannibal ultimately came between will and molly, just as fate prevented romeo from finding a sense of stability in juliet.

so is this line romantic? yeah, if you want it to be! hannibal's manipulation of will did come from a place of love ("no one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. by that love, we see potential in our beloved. through that love, we allow our beloved to see their potential. expressing that love, our beloved's potential comes true") but it also deprived will of the normalcy that i think on some level, he craved almost as much as he did understanding.

but i don't think this line is a proclamation of love from will as much as it is an announcement of blame. will blames hannibal for the loss of the life he could have had before hannibal or with molly (which parallels romeo's banishment from verona) and it's not until the finale that we actually see him choose hannibal.

tldr: will is saying that he's not a victim of fate, he's a victim of hannibal. here's the original post (op is cool, go check em out!!)

[viperwhispered]

*barges in like a maniac* THE DAY that school let's out and I am greeted with this! And now I'm THINKING!

So we've discussed before Jamil letting it all out and storming out but all the endings are super angsty cause Scarabia angst is the best angst in all of Twisted Wonderland. I have come suggesting an alternate ending since Jamil deserves to be happy:

After the break ends, Jamil finally picks up Najma's calls and she puts it on speaker. Jamil proceeds like this: he's sorry for yelling and storming out but not for what he said. As soon as he graduates he is flying off the see the world like he's always wanted and there's nothing they can do to stop him. Eventually he'll get a permanent job and settle somewhere nice where he isn't stuck at the mercy of the local tyrants. There is no working for the Asims and no servitude. This is happening whether they like it or not and the Vipers can just accept it and move on or he will never speak to his parents ever again and only Najma gets to meet any of his future children. Then he hangs up.

You'd think Jamil would be nervous while this is happening, but no. Why? Cause he just spent the best vacation of his life living in domestic bliss with his lover and now he's determined to make it last the rest of his life. It also come with the extra promise of "my children will not be slaves".

Another reason he's so confident is because he's eavesdropped on Kalim's secret meetings with Riddle where they study the laws of the Scalding Sands for legal support for Jamil's freedom.

I'd imagine Jamil's parents would be quite conflicted. However, the second they start leaning towards disowning him Najma flips out asking wtf is wrong with them and that if they disown Jamil for daring to have boundaries/a life outside of Kalim then they might as well disown her too.

So now the Vipers are really screwed cause there's no point in enforcing the time honored tradition on endentured servitude when you have no kids to sell into slavery. So the parents are quiet for now.

Also doesn't help that, when this whole fiasco started, Kalim loudly declared that Jamil was getting the whole vacation off and dared anyone to argue with him. Fortunately, Malleus had taught Kalim how to perfect a poison detection spell, so there weren't any worries about the food.

Najma had gotten really curious over Jamil's secret lover and, when a school event happened, she pounced. Honestly, it was pretty easy finding her in-law since they were wearing Jamil's hair tie. Of course, great minds think alike and fools rarely differ so now Najma is also platonically head over heels with Jamil's s/o. So now the poor reader is stuck in a tug of war between siblings.

So now the Vipers are stuck with their daughter going on and on about how the person they blame for "corrupting" Jamil is the most wonderful being who ever graced Twisted Wonderland. The awkwardness gets even worse when Najma starts nagging Jamil to just bring them over for the next fireworks festival.

So the Vipers agree to at least meet the famed charmer and Jamil responds by laying down the law: 1.There is to be no insulting or passive aggressiveness, be it directly or behind their back, towards my beloved. 2.There is to be no hostility whatsoever towards my dearest. 3.My future spouse shall be sleeping in my room. 4.My heart and soul will be treated just as well as any other guest. 5.If any of these rules are violated, don't expect me to talk to you until after I graduate.

So d-day roles around and the Vipers are forced to welcome the "homewrecker" into their home. Najma just tackles the reader the second they open the door and starts the tug of war with Jamil. With this visit, the Vipers are now cursing under their breaths because 1.Jamil and the reader might as well already be married 2.Najma adores the reader 3.They're a damn good in-law to have (*insert good personality trait here*, does chores, is supportive, etc). They're are now fully aware that no way in hell they were winning this and either have no legacy to speak of or they admit defeat.

They admit defeat.

What's Kalim doing while this goes down? He's given Jamil official orders to "be a good host" and invited friends over to have a week long slumber party. While Jamil battles his parents, Kalim is living it up with Malleus, Lilia, Trey, and Cater and everyone is just having a blast. Best part is that Malleus makes for an excellent assassin deterrent and anyone caught trying gets struck by lightning.

Nikki bonus: The thing about "x reader" fics is that we never get any in-law drama and it's arguably some of funniest shit ever. So let me ramble on about Jamil's encounters with the Deshna Bhavsar.

So some backstory: Nikki's grandparents has trouble conceiving, so they raised Deshna to possibly inherit their taleem (mud wrestling school). Even after Nikki's uncle was born, Deshna still kept on wrestling and could take down fully grown men twice her weight at 18. So Deshna goes to nursing school, but instead of going straight to work she decides to accept an arranged marriage proposal from Nikki's father who was the son of an old acquaintance of her grandfather who had gotten very rich. Now Nikki's bio dad was fine, but he was also a complete wimp who did nothing against his brother who was an abusive ass. Deshna took none of it but none of her in-laws ever supported her. When she realized she was pregnant, she had a major moment of clarity and she divorced her spineless husband. This caused everyone but her immediate family to disown her and she immigrated to Canada. Deshna started off working as the caretaker for an elderly man named Nicholas, who would go on to give some massive support and be the person Nikki was named after. Deshna got her nursing license and proceeded to devote everything into raising Nikki. When Nikki started experiencing their genders during puberty, this woman put herself in therapy and educated herself so her child would never fell abandoned. Deshna does resent the gods the gods she spent her whole life devoted to for putting her child through living hell at least one a week, but she knows Nikki is very stubborn and does her best to support them.

So Jamil is essentially facing off someone who's won the "Mom of the century" award 12 consecutive times and could fold him like a lawn chair if her ever so much as thought about disrespecting her child.

Deshna is a woman who is far too intelligent and observant for her own good and has neither the patient nor the tolerance for anyone's bullshit. So Jamil's flattery and masking will not fly with her. If you want a reference for what Deshna's attitude is like check out Sindhu Vee, this is woman I modeled Deshna after.

Nikki has been upfront about their relationship with Jamil since the beginning, so Deshna has heard everything from the overblot to the arguments over Kalim to "he's a hot asshole and I want to kiss his smug face". Like any good parent, Deshna has already come up with 101 reasons why Jamil is not good enough and is also dreading a repeat of Nikki's previous relationships.

So Nikki and Jamil get together and Deshna is shocked they lasted more than a week and have had almost no issues. Cut to one month later and they're still together and Deshna's like "ok bring him over I gotta see what's so special".

Nikki warns him that no masking will work with their mother but habits are hard to break. Long story short, Deshna baits him into an hour long debate which Jamil loses spectacularly (makes sense since he's never won a debate against Nikki either).

Deshna's conclusion: He's entertaining enough to argue with, lets see how this goes.

Jamil's conclusion: Mother in law or not, I will find a way to destroy this woman.

Nikki’s conclusion: This went much better than expected.

So now Nikki's kidnapping Jamil to hang out every weekend and Deshna has gotten to now Jamil so much better. Point is, Deshna is now bragging whenever possible about the absolute gold mine she has for a son in law. How could she not? He's smart, resourceful, got top grades at a top school, he cooks well, he cleans well, he loves her child, he knows how condoms work, he respects her child, ambitious, has powerful connections, etc.

Eventually, Jamil opens up about his home life and Deshna's response is to assure him that his parents suck anyways and that "Jamil Bhavsar" sounds so much better than Jamil Viper. Ngl tho no way in hell is Deshna letting this good of a catch slip through her fingers nor is she letting her child be turned into a slave.

Fun fact: in Bengali families, it is very common for family members to call you anything but your name. These nicknames are called Dhak names.

So, Deshna tends to call Nikki "Noni" and playfully refers to Jamil as "Daini" (which I've been told is the Bangla word for witch).

It certainly is not easy, putting up such boundaries with one’s parents, but I certainly would love for Jamil to be in such a position to do it with confidence, if it is something that needs to be done.

Hasdfs Najma spotting reader from the hair tie, tho. (Maybe I should’ve indeed sat down with this ask before doing the anything goes story prompt, since I didn’t even see this part but I love the idea. I mean, it’s not exactly inconspicuous, now is it?)

It is so sweet to think of Najma getting along with Jamil’s s/o, too. Plus, then there’s the potential of teaming up with Najma to tease Jamil, which, of course you gotta (I may or may not be the target of this with my partner and sibling irl, so, you know, definitely can see it happening).

Plus I’m sure Najma would also very purposefully be talking reader up to her parents, to try to convince them that they should just let it happen.

I do wonder, though… Surely Jamil should be laying down some rules regarding the treatment towards himself, too, not just s/o? (Basically, silly snek man, don’t just be protective of reader, consider yourself too, if you need to.) But perhaps that’s a matter for another time, once he himself gets a clearer idea of how he does (or doesn’t) want to proceed with his parents in general.

Oh boy though if it wouldn’t be nerve-wrecking to enter the Viper household in these circumstances (I’d be so ready to fight and throw punches for Jamil, ngl). Though now I’m also thinking of reader being extra sugary sweet, like southern US backhanded compliment style… Or just kill them with kindness in general, even while gritting one’s teeth.

Hasdfs I love Kalim’s slumber party tho. I can definitely imagine all sorts of hijinks, I mean with Lilia there too, of more or less “accidentally” dispatching any problems.

Deshna sure is an absolute badass and I want only the best for her.

Also those conclusions after the first meeting hasdfsdf I love these. What a dynamic.

(Also re: in-law drama, I have made up parents for the reader before so you know, can happen, but yeah, only something I’ve done in a longfic and not something you see that often.)

[throwaway-yandere]

The Fox Hunt (Yandere Mafia!Cyno, Tighnari, and Alhaitham/Reader)

A very brief summary of chapter 2 for those who had to skip due to CWs: You had been bottling your grief. You hired Alhaitham as an underboss and he tagged along when you negotiated with Diluc. (Thanks to his presence, you avoided getting kidnapped by the Visconti). When you visited the church, Rosaria offered to help you track Tighnari down and Cyno shared his story about losing his younger brother later on. At night, you decided to visit your old underboss's grave. An old friend, Dainsleif, found you in the cemetery, and helped you finally cry your eyes out for all the lives you lost that day.

CW: yandere & religious themes, mafia syndicates (therefore guns, violence, etc). Possible major character death. THIS IS AN INTERACTIVE FIC: YOUR CHOICES MATTER.

"O Capo! My Capo!" - Chapter 3

Previous chapter

—----

[4 years ago:]

"You seem to be stealing fleeting glances earwards the whole time I've been leafing pages."

"Ah, so you've noticed." You spoke sheepishly. "My apologies, Professor, but your ears are…"

Tighnari's ears boastfully straightened as he shrugged with a tiny smile.

"They do not feel as nice as you're imagining. They honestly just feel like any regular cat's or dog's."

"Your behavior says otherwise." You said. "But it's deserved. You groom it every other hour, don't you?"

"Hah?"

On a late 1910s night, renowned writer Professor Tighnari prepared his next discussion in the Innamorati Familia’s mansion. 

Why inside such a dangerous place? Well, what is Teyvat without corruption? The Syndicates remained in control for most of Teyvat, and no military forces can quell their power. It reached a period where people cannot envision life without these organizations as detrimental to society. No man can exhaust the flames that burn brightly amongst the Fatui mafiosos, and should they try, they'll only find smoke in their wounded chest. 

Professor Tighnari joined the Innamorati Familia when several academics from his university inexplicably vanished. The fox believes they'll target him next based on their trend of research topics. He initially gave his services in exchange for the security of his research, but unanticipatedly discovered that everyone in the Familia has values, culture– precious lives of their own. They were kind people who simply had a penchant for violence. As strange of a revelation as it may sound, they lived their lives hurting as little as they could with their religious restrictions upheld by their capo.

Not long after that, the hitherto snarky professor had become close friends with the aforementioned boss.

"Don't think I don't notice that every time I'm about to enter the room, you brush your fur like you're five minutes late to a party." 

"I-I just wanted to look presentable, that's all. Do you think I'd show up to work with bed hair? Who am I? Dimitri?"

Aware of his sharp tongue but lacking the means to keep it in check, Tighnari accidentally insulted your underboss. The hairs on his body stood and he was ready to make a fool of himself by offering an apology, but your usually unreadable resting face looked warm.

"Mhm. Sure. I'll choose to believe that." Without hiding your curiosity, you turned back to his ears. His ears were not touched, despite your hands being close to his head.

"A-as you should." Fortunately, Tighnari is good at masking his emotions. If cowardice overcame him, he would encounter a blade's glimmer rather than your gaze. Tighnari digressed by returning to his books while maintaining the illusion that his thoughts were clear.

"Alright then. Platonically, can I pet you?"

"... Excuse me?"

"You're one of those Vulpes who always wondered why close friends would think touching your ears would make you angry right?" You told him in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. 

Tighnari is a smart man, yet he is unable to understand how your mind may go in circles and still arrive at a logical conclusion. He did ask, but it didn't make sense.  You sincerely advised him to give up most possessions and gain a new perspective from the experience when he sought guidance on how your deduction functions. There is no way in hell that he would act in that manner.

You continued. "I'm just skipping that whole step. So, are we intimate enough for me to run my fingers through your hair?"  

Tighnari snorted. "Phrasing, Capo."

"So, am I a close enough friend to touch you in that special area?"

"You'll never get me flustered– I might just bite you instead if you keep testing me."

"What a major shame."

Your gaze lowered to the pages he was writing. Tighnari is a well-known botanist at the University of Teyvat, a public university for bright students with limited financial resources. His intricate writing style regarding the fundamentals of bryophytes speaks volumes. You doubt that students can understand what he jotted down, but then again, Tighnari's an effective communicator.

In all honesty, you hated those books, not because of their contents, but because of the memories laced within them.

These were the type of pages you sift through in hopes that you will be the one to decipher a cure. Dottore used to help you sort through whatever books were more easily digestible. Nowadays staring at something related to moss feels akin to reading about an end of a long relationship. It was fun and exciting, but ultimately the compatibility led nowhere. As much as you want to tell him that he should take his research elsewhere, he'd probably reply with a sassy "Or what? Are you going cage me?" reply. Simply not worth the effort or time.

He cleared his throat, his cheeks dusted in a pinkish hue. "Whatever. You can pet me if y–"

"Mosses huh? Why this area of study?" Those words left your mouth before you could stop them.

Tighnari tucked his tail underneath his chair, his eyes unblinking. 

" … I have a theory."

You nodded, recognizing the shift in his tone. "Go on."

"The Goddess of Flowers often described in their books that Sumeru's mosses have an intricate healing property in them that can only be harnessed by those who are as knowledgeable as the Scarlet King."

"I never thought you were a devotee."

"I'm not," Tighnari answered. "I only believe in Gnosticism when it benefits me."

Spoken like a true University of Teyvat graduate.

"But phytotherapy is a rather complex and time-consuming field– why focus on this?"

"And why does a Capo like you know that?" Tighnari asked, and you digressed immediately to avoid him probing on things he need not know.

"–Our familia is doing fine, Professor. Hmm... Is there someone in particular that you're praying for good health–"

"You have Eleazar, don't you, Capo?"

You knew it. He saw the recollection in your gaze when you glanced at his books. You weren't surprised that he figured it out quickly. You were just waiting for him to confess that he knew your condition. However, you just didn't expect him to ask at that very moment.

This time, you patted his head without asking, tracing your fingers around his fluffy ears. You grinned. Your smile was just a centimeter off and your shoulders were square; neither of those rigid signs sent him a positive response. The way you held his ears was restrictive, far from the quote-unquote "platonic" gesture you offered earlier. Your soft chortles sent chills down his spine and your glare froze his nerves akin to Snezhnayan rivers.

"Hoping to sell that information, Vulpes?"

"Of course not!" Tighnari was shocked to hear himself raise his voice. "I'm not stupid."

You hummed and pulled your hand away. Tighnari may have acted tough, but you knew he was shaken by that exchange. 

Oh well, it's not like you were being serious. 

You just did that so you can hold his ears. (By the way, he lied. They're even fluffier than most animals.)

Unbeknownst to you, Tighnari found your touch enthralling. He shook by an entirely different reason compared to your assumption.

Talking to you was addictive. Tighnari could take his studies elsewhere, but what's the point if you're not there?

He chuckled.

Save for the low-volume classic jazz the fox played in the background, you both indulged in the comfortable silence of each other's presence. An atmosphere as cozy as this makes it tempting to brush your cheek against his shoulder and flutter your eyes shut– but the dawn hasn't crept in and you will not be deterred from your sleep schedule. Tighnari's pleasant pen strokes came to a halt, releasing you from your trance.

"Capo?"

"... Yes?" You sucked your yawn in.

"If– If I told you I could find you a cure, but I'd have to sell my soul for it, what would you do?"

"Easy question: don't."

He was taken aback. Tighnari did not expect that answer.

"But why?"

"I know that look in your eyes, Tighnari." You shifted on the sofa, doing your utmost to stay awake. "Those were the same eyes Dimitri had when he killed his step-sister. That's the gaze of a feral animal. You're part of my familia, Tighnari– I'm not letting another fratello of mine lose himself to greedy impulse."

"What if–"

"No."

You spoke dangerously low in the tone Tighnari hears when you interrogate those who were chained in your basement. This was not the voice you used to talk to your men. This (Y/n) was not just commanding– this Capo was daunting and domineering. And he would loathe being at the receiving end of your torturous whip and fingers.

Suddenly, Tighnari had an epiphany.

Before he could save a kind friend, the professor would have to save a cold-blooded murderer first.

"Alright. Fine then. If you don't want to be the patient who'll help me get a Nobel Prize then have it your way." Tighnari joked, but his mind was made up.

He won't do as you commanded. 

"But don't think I'll stop studying mosses. The world doesn't revolve around you, Capo, I still have many to save."

And just like that, he retired for the night. 

Once upon a time, these half-asleep conversations were routinely done in order to check up on one another. A Capo is the busiest person one could be in Snezhnaya, and it warmed his heart to know you allot some time for his mundane conversations. But these heartfelt gestures are now mere ashes behind Tighnari.

Never to return.

—----

[Morning, 1 AM:]

The Fatui Headquarters is a daunting place.

Filled to the brim with murderous sociopaths, no sane man would act juvenile amongst your crowd. This room never fails to make you feel small. Everyone, from 2nd to 10th, showed up dressed to the nines with capes and fur, which was slightly less grand than the funeral clothes everyone wore for La Signora. Their extravagant yet sensible winter attire contrasts sharply with your unimpressive standard Prussian-blue coat in the sea of whites and blacks.

"Can't believe you showed up."

You turned to face the front. Scaramouche, in his custom-made Kasa hat, sat on the opposite end and sneered with disdain.

This gremlin never took a shine to you. The feeling is mutual. Whenever he utters a nasty word, the impulse to clothesline him to the nearest tree arises.

"It's not a habit of mine to miss meetings, it's not gonna change now no matter your wishes, Scaramouche."

"You dare use that tone against me? Remember who you are talking to, number eight."

As the 8th Capo– higher only for Tartaglia (10th) and the 9th– you were looked down on by the rest of the Harbingers. Had the 1st rank not been filled by a fellow Khaenri'ahn, Archons know how mistreated you would've been. 

"I have a firm grasp of my identity. Never have I shared your indecisiveness, number six." You spat. "What about you? Have you decided on whether or not you're human yet?"

Everyone knows that Scaramouche may not even be human, but no one would open that can of worms other than you. 

He crossed his arms.

"Maybe after you figure out whose fault it was that your men died, you… or that fox?"

"SHHH!!!" Tartaglia shook his pointer finger near his lips. When he noticed you staring, he donned his best brotherly smile. "H-Hey (Y/n), what do you think about the rising inflation in Mondstadt City?"

Tartaglia actively avoided talks about the Innamorati Arson Incident. It's been days and he has not once brought it up. You recalled how when you first visited his manor, he asked about your experience in the church of Sumeru– and it was solely focused on what happened AFTER the incident. 

… Now that you think about it, he probably made those stupid jokes about Alhaitham that day because he didn't want you to look so grim.

"More problems with their funds, considering how most of it is all gone." The shorter man managed to still find a quip along the way. "Honestly, why are they even here? Shouldn't they go back to selling matchsticks by now?"

You visibly stiffened.

"Shut it, Scaramouche." Arlecchino interjected with a sympathetic yet mildly condescending outlook. "They're still a Capo through and through, even if they're past their prime."

Prime.

That's how they referred to the Dottore who had never taken a dose of canned knowledge. The youthful and composed Dottore you were once friends with.

You've always dealt with the very murky morality of your line of work by contrasting the transgressions of your coworkers. At least you went through rehab and detox when you were hooked on heroin. Meanwhile, he hasn't done anything other than feed his addiction. Truly, Zandik is fortunate to receive a wage that exceeds his necessities.

You and a monster like him are not so different, not anymore. He is no longer human; instead, he is a corpse that runs back home covered in more scrapes than on his previous visit. As for you? Well…

Batting your eyes, you scoffed breathlessly. Are you really past your prime? Words failed to come up when you tried thinking of a retort, and perhaps that was for the best.

Finally, the man of the hour entered the room. 

Like many Khaenri'ahn kids, you formerly held Pierro in high regard. He was the gleam of hope that even impoverished and orphaned immigrants might change the tides, even if it was in a world other than their home country. For most, he's the one who would nod his head upward. Pierro, the first Khaenri'ahn Capo, was the hero in the eyes of your younger self who lived off thanks to the table scraps of your even younger foster siblings. Tsaritsa knows you fumbled on your first meeting, and you were proud that was the only time you embarrassed yourself in front of him.

Considering how things are now, it certainly wasn't the case.

Pierro took a proud stance and showed no remorse for what had happened to you. His gaze veered in your direction. At that very moment, if you had been blinking, you would have missed the disappointed expression on his face. He promptly rotated the whiteboard after removing his sheets from his folders.

You stood up. "Lord Pier–"

"Let's start."

You sat back down again.

The entire meeting was a blur. You felt like you weren't there the entire time. Arlecchino eagerly chatted about her child soldiers whilst the other occasionally quipped a word or two. When her turn was done, it was Scaramouche, then Capitano, then Tartaglia– not once had the bottle turned to face you. The reason behind that is simple:

Pierro did not plan to call you, Number 8th, during any of his discussions. 

—---

The meeting was adjourned, but far from over. Just as you were about to head to the cathedral, a lithe hand pulled your coat sleeve, stopping you from reaching the front gates. 

You sighed, looking at their perfect doll-like fingers, there's no one else it could be other than…

"Shylock businesses aren't my style– ask Tartaglia instead." 

"You know damn well that's not what I'm gonna ask, Brighella?" 

"Then what is it, Kunikuzushi?"

He flushed red at your venomous retort.

Neither of you liked those names– unlike you, who dislike your Harbinger title purely because it sounds stupid– Scaramouche doesn't like hearing his baptismal name out of family reasons. Guess who's the more insecure one between the both of you.

"Are… Are you al– tch. Forget it." He paused before he scoffed and pointed his finger accusingly. Scaramouche grumbled. "I invested a lot of money in your casino project, so there better be some results!"

You nodded, barely paying attention to his tirades. His infantile behavior was never endearing to you; you either find it repulsive or boring. With the weighing pressure on your mental state, you were quick to chuck his new burlesque anger as mind-numbingly monotonous this time.

"Sure."

"Sure? Sure what, worm?"

"The Casino is not affected– the men who handled it are all alive. Zero casualties."

Unless you count Dimitri who used to manage the Casino in his spare time.

"That's good to hear." Surprisingly, he sounded genuinely relieved for what felt like their safety rather than financial compensation.

"Agreed. Are we done here?" 

His grip on your sleeve tightened.

"One final thing." Scaramouche leaned closer. "Use caution. Tighnari had likely received divine favors."

"Maybe you're stupid or you just don't care, but my devotion to Gnosticism is just a front. I appreciate your concern, though."

"I wasn't concerned. Just can't have my idiotic colleague underestimate what the divine can do." He smirked. "Can't have you burning another property you don't deserve."

You yanked your sleeve away.

Heartless puppet. 

"Goodbye, Balladeer."

—----

[Morning, 3 AM:]

With Felix trailing behind you (Alhaitham was in his Akademiya job), you both entered the church searching for Sister Rosaria.

The stained glass of the church had recently been updated. No one was surprised when disciples started taking away any hydro-related emblems from all northern churches. Even if those pieces of art are incredibly captivating, the fascists had already started utilizing them as a sign of movement, thus they are deemed not worth saving for future generations.

"Since when did they begin removing those things?"

"Since yesterday," Felix said with bags under his eyes. It's clear to you that he genuinely didn't want to be here. "Under Architect Kaveh's orders."

"I see. Go get some rest, Felix. There are surely some empty rooms in the convent."

"Thank you, Capo."

You let him leave.

Should you die today, you've already written a will that Felix will be the one to inherit your position. You'll let him have his quite-possibly-last good sleep before the Capo life keeps him busy. 

You stared back at the glass. 

In a way, architect Kaveh was similar to Alhaitham in that you were familiar with their names but not their faces. Even though he is consistently the first to offer to assist you with construction, this man always finds a way to decline your requests for an audience. The last time it was because he caught boar fever (how? ), but that was nothing compared to the time he wrote you a disorganized handwritten letter about how an Akademiyan spy sabotaged his clothes after breaking into his home and harassing him to gain confidential information.

... At least he has extraordinary talent. You can excuse any eccentric traits as long as a person's value outweighs the costs. That is the same reasoning you employed when you hired Alhaitham.

"(Y/n), is it true that you're going to find Tighnari?"

That voice couldn't be anyone else but your little fratella.

You were about to answer with a firm "yes", but when you turned around you felt a pang of guilt seeing how troubled she looked. Her hands gripped the hem of her dress in a suffocating hold and her eyebrows were knitted together.

"In Sumeru City? Of all places?" Barbara scurried and hugged your arm. 

"Don't go. Please."

[CHOSE: REASSURE BARBARA]

"Mia sorella, don't worry…" you cooed and soothingly lowered your gaze before bluffing. "Sumeru City's a lot safer nowadays. Alhaitham told me so."

[DID NOT CHOOSE: SAY "GOODBYE"]

[FAILED TO UNLOCK CHANCE FOR SECRET ROUTE: "MUSICIAN VENTI"]

"No…" Barbara stiffened and tore herself away. She clenched her fist, but everything else about her was calm and resolved. 

Barbara looks exactly like you when she's mad. She mimicked your traits so perfectly.

"No. You're lying. I heard Sister Rosaria talk to Inquisitor Cyno– it's not safe there."

"Barbara…" You traced your thumbs against her cheek. Her heartfelt display of anger almost successfully beseech you to reconsider. She slapped your hand away, but you kept talking. "I have to go."

“No. No, you don't– don’t be prideful! At least bring some of your men with you.” Barbara argued. 

You can’t. Some are stationed to help with church work while others are with Visconti Diluc. You purposely made them preoccupied so that they won’t put themselves in danger (like you.) Besides Tartaglia, there’s no other Capo who loves their people more than you– and perhaps this overprotective nature will be your cause of death, but so be it.

“Sister Rosaria will tag along. I'll be back soon– like I always do." You scooted closer to her, bending your knees a bit. With an unnoticeably forced chuckle, you shook her slightly. "C'mon, it's me, your very cool older Capo sibling. Don't you have faith in me?"

"I-I…" 

There are two things that can convince a pure-minded individual like her who has been sheltered from harm: a prayer and a cheerful smile.

"If you're worried about me, why don't you pray for my safe return?"

And you know damn those are the only thing that helps Barbara keep moving forward– the two things that help keep her sanity intact or else she'll break down. Religion is her sole solace. Despite living in poverty, she wouldn't sin. She's "used to hunger", that's just the type of person she was. Without prayers and smiles, nothing can help Barbara forget how her real biological sister left her in this chapel.

"Can you do that for me, sorella?"

Barbara paused. 

Snezhnayan men are the most religious. The people of Mondstadt nor Sumeru couldn't possibly compare with how Snezhnaya rears their impressionable children. Barbara was raised in this chapel and Snezhnayan culture ran deep in her veins.

“F-Fine.” Barbara sighed. “I’ll pray for you.”

You ruffled her hair.

“Grazie, sorella.”

—----

After reassuring Barbara that you will be safe and praying to an archon you don’t believe in, you slithered behind the church. 

"You watched everything earlier, I presume?"

Inquisitor Cyno didn’t move a muscle from his position. He was leaning by the wall, staring at the church cemetery. Still, he cracked up a small yet wholesome smile. He seemed pleased by your response.

[AFFECTION METER: 39.05%]

"It's in my job description."

You smiled sweetly. "Forgive my sins, Inquisitor, I forgot you were a professional stalker."

"Not stalking; I'm monitoring you."

"What's the difference?"

"Stalking has a more sinister connotation."

"Oh, then forgive me, your holiness." You theatrically bowed.

Cyno nodded. "You are forgiven."

You laughed loudly.

The inquisitor innocently raised his eyebrow and tilted his head. His pup-like demeanor shut you up. Apparently, that response wasn't a joke. Ex-priest Cyno wholeheartedly forgave you in a religious fashion.

Why is he only hilarious when he's not trying to be?

You cleared your throat. "My apologies, I suddenly remembered a joke, that's all."

"Would you mind sharing?" Cyno asked. "I want to find new comedy material. My previous jokes didn't seem to work."

You were about to cut it straight that he's the joke but ultimately decided to keep your mouth shut. 'You mean 'ALL your jokes don't seem to work.'' is what you wanted to say, but kindness is not the absence of mean-spiritedness. It is when you are restricting such actions.

“I don’t think you’d find it funny.”

“Is it an inside joke?”

How very kind of him to offer you a way out of this one.

“Something like that.”

“Then I won’t ask.” The Inquisitor nodded. "But there’s something else I want to request. Won’t you allow me to join you–"

"No."

[CHOSE: DO NOT INVITE INQUISITOR CYNO]

[AFFECTION METER: 25.00%]

Cyno paused.

You cannot allow him to join. Since you observed how the inquisitor and your new underboss interacted, you had a feeling that Cyno's presence would cause more issues than they would solve. He knew Tighnari well. He might even kill him before you do if he is provoked. Besides, it's not as though any sane man would hold an Inquisitor captive if given the chance; that would be like trying to wrestle an alligator to scare a dog.

Plus, you want to exploit Cyno and Tighnari's previous friendship against him. The safest course of action is to bluff and say you'll kill Cyno should that bastard try anything funny.

“Why not?”

“I hate to impose or be more indebted to you, Inquisitor. My conscience will not allow it.”

Cyno frowned.

“You shouldn’t be afraid to rely on others, Capo.”

“How very strange that I’ll hear that coming from you,” You said. “I know it is not my place to say this, but I’ve done my research and found out that you fulfill your duties alone. Candace kindly told me that you’ve always been a lone wolf, so I can’t say I’m persuaded by your advice.”

“Hmm. Understandable.” That’s all he could say. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

You held his hand. He flinched, both shoulders tensed up like a shocked cat.

Your hands weren’t warm. They were cold. But as a desert dweller his hands oddly fit well with yours– a perfect balance. Unlike you, however, he had never used these hands to do evil. The Inquisitor silently wondered how would it feel like if these fingers wrung his neck–

Cyno closed his eyes. 

He cannot think of such sinful thoughts.

“Please relax, Inquisitor.” You spoke, circling the back of his palm. “I know what I’m doing.”

Should those words be the whole truth, then you must know unsavory your actions must be behind the pretense of kindness.

You debaucher.

“Do you now…”

You grinned.

That effectively made his heart skip a beat.

Cyno doubts you somehow knew about your hold on him.

“Hmm!”

“Fine. Then I’ll let you be.”

—----

He shouldn’t do this.

He’s worried. The Inquisitor did work with the spy before–

But Cyno doesn’t trust Alhaitham.

Cyno handed the disciple a dagger.

Alhaitham is calculating and most of all selfish. This was the man who actively disobeyed the church’s teachings unapologetically. Perhaps such behavior is cultured in the Akademiya but Cyno cannot stand it. 

Maybe that's why he tried stopping himself first, but after that fire…

Cyno's overprotective nature worsened.

He convinced himself that this feeling was a product of his past losses and argues that this is just a precaution. The Goddess has given him a second person to watch over. A second Usir. A new blessing to make up for his past transgressions.

And he will not waste this second chance.

"Take this. And do not forget my orders."

—---

[Morning, 4 AM]

Towering dome buildings, abundance of trees yet eerily silent streets– Sumeru City was not a tourist spot for amusement. 

Considering these facts, Dunyarzard, in all her former glory, still built a large theater underground called The Zubayr Theater. She had the intention of making the city a more joyous location with her contributions, and it's sad to see that it had done little to brighten up its citizens. Then again, Dunyarzard probably won’t be bothered by this if she lived longer.

You would know this because she was once your friend too.

Dunyarzard...

It’s a shame an invasive fox is hiding inside her paradise-on-earth. 

That, and a troublesome dog too.

You glanced at Alhaitham. He behaved strangely the entire time, glancing at his watch as if he were counting his seconds down. Soon enough, he walked closer and tapped your shoulder.

"(N/n)."

Assuming this is about the akasha terminal he let you borrow, you let him talk. "Go on, speak."

[AFFECTION METER: 28.00%]

"Tuqburni."

"… what?"

"Means you bury me in Sumeru," Alhaitham said, looking away sheepishly. "I decided it'd be best if you heard it again, even if Cyno isn’t here."

Is he trying to imply that an Inquisitor would care enough to kill him? Please. He’s an insignificant cog in the grand scheme of things. If he’s so sure you’ll lead him to his death then he should just quit. Go back to being an Akademiyan spy, it’s not that hard.

"Good to know." You'll forget about that word in ten minutes, tops.

He pursed his lips, troubled. "You don't remember what Tuqburni means?"

"Can't remember something I never learned."

Alhaitham frowned.

"I see…"

Sister Rosaria swerved her way between you two before pushing Alhaitham away with little force. "Take a hike. We don't have time to entertain you, underboss."

His nose scrunched. "Sister Rosaria, age 25. Weight 80kg, height 5'9, address–"

"Yeah, no shit I know where I live, so what?" The nun retorted. "Think you can take me on with your calculator, kid?"

You snorted.

"I'm not trying to intimidate you," Alhaitham spoke. "I'm letting you know that–"

"Whatever." Rosaria clicked her tongue. "Capo, what're your orders?"

Thank the Tsaritsa that Rosaria is here.

“We’ll split.” You pointed at the theater. “There are three main sections in Zabayr.”

You handed Rosaria a map. Alhaitham didn’t ask for a copy– he presumed that you already trust that he knew the location with the help of new technology. Instead, it was Rosaria who had a follow-up question.

“Where’s your copy, Capo?”

“They don’t need one,” Alhaitham answered. “They were here when the place was built– they helped Lady Dunyarzard build her dream theater.”

“I didn’t issue any orders for you to speak.” You glared. “Know where you stand, underboss.”

You cleared your throat. "As I was saying, we'll split up. I'll scout the theater, Rosaria outside the buildings, and you're on the apex building. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Of course."

—----

Despite saying "of course" confidently, Alhaitham found himself in a small library. 

This was likely NOT the place you ordered him to find, but the wealth of information stored around here was relevant to your investigation. Why? Because these were records haphazardly left by the fascists.

Their intel was right. The theater was one of their headquarters.

"These runes…" His eyebrows furrowed. “‘A tool that can only be used if the wielder upholds absolute justice above all else and would sacrifice the means for a satisfactory end.’ None of these descriptors match the Akademiya’s records at all, except...”

Alhaitham's eyes widened. 

This specific piece of information corroborates how Tighnari behaved thus far.

"However, if the Archons live with us and not Celestia then isn't it possible that Focalor is–"

His fingernails dug into the papyrus while his eyes frantically skimmed through its contents. If the contents of this papyrus were true, then what the hell was that collaboration between La Signora and the Adepti about? What the hell did they exchange?

Alhaitham heard the sound of breathing.

He turned around and turned on his terminal, hoping to reach you before the assailant stops him.

"(N/n), be careful! Whatever Tighnari's holding, that's a gn–"

[SHUTTING DOWN…]

—---

The Akasha Terminal buzzed, the signal muffling its voice. You surmise that this was caused by the theater's layout. The architect of the Zubayr Theater– which is funny enough, still Kaveh– specifically chose this location for its lack of noise. That being said, it would be nice to watch an actual play here now that Alhaitham wouldn't bother you with his senseless blather. Pity that no one's performing.

"… B… c…ful! Wh….. na… ri…ho…."

"T…s … ...sis!" 

You shook your head and nonchalantly thought out loud.

"The terminal must be acting up." 

There's no one there to accompany you in your confrontation with Tighnari should you encounter him, and you preferred it this way. 

You opened the door to the main stage.

And you finally found him.

You spotted the back of his silhouette lingering on the theater’s second floor. Props were crushed and some built-in chairs were knocked over. Whoever wreaked havoc around Dunyarzard’s theater had to pay– but that isn’t your main priority. Your target is already right here.

The professor no longer wore his cotton dark caramel coat– instead, he replaced it with a blander yet bolder black one that made his figure look larger. His eyes were vacant, looking forward as if a person would warp from near the ceiling. The bastard appeared to be waiting for someone.

Someone that isn’t you.

"Hello, professor."

A chill shot down his spine as his eyes met yours. Tighnari looked down, seeing you stare at him with a small smile. There was malice behind your peaceful expression. He made indescribable noises when he took a step back. No one else was in the vicinity except for the two of you, but his thoughts screamed that there was nowhere else to run. Tighnari knew that look was nothing he had ever seen before– a look of pity and anger reserved only for a dead man walking.

He sensed bloodlust, and it was consumingly relentless.

"It's been a while. Mind if I bother you outside office hours?"

Tighnari's hands were trembling but the rest of his limbs were frozen. He couldn't completely deny the possibility that he could die at this very moment. After all, he had seen your agility wipe out an entire floor of men with two dull daggers. If that was lazily done to protect him, he can only imagine the full extent of your abilities. On the bright side, at least you were below him and he could sprint somewhere– he just didn’t know where that is.

When you go on a hunt, you don’t stop until you catch your prey.

The professor knows that damn well.

"N-No," Tighnari answered with false confidence. "No, I don't."

"Can I ask a few questions, then?"

Your way of speaking contradicts whatever thoughts you both had in mind. Your voice inflection bounced off lightly, but the air shifted as soon as you traced your holster.

He didn't reply, and you took that as a yes.

[FREE TALK EVENT: START]

[READER REPLIES MARKED IN RED]

"Why." 

It came out more like a general statement than a question, so you repeated it with added conviction. You're not a static force. You're here because you willed it– you're here to satisfy your demands. Your lust for revenge.

"Why did you do it? Why did you burn my manor?"

Like a grim reaper appeasing their curiosity, you spoke calmly while simultaneously patronizing his inconsequential life.

Tighnari bit his lip. "You already know why–"

"But I need the confirmation, the closure. Any reason to make your death tenfold more satisfying." 

"I did it so that you'd get your cure."

Your eyes squinted.

Of course he did. You don't doubt him. You've known his obsession with Eleazar and how he rightfully suspected that you're burdened by this illness. 

But he took the whole truth and poured some out.

"That still doesn’t make sense, Professor Tighnari."

He took a sharp yet deep breath. Tighnari's treading on thin ice. He was scared not just for his life. He was scared that this would be his final moment when he had yet to give you what you needed. 

"I had to–"

"Surely the cure for Eleazar doesn't involve mass murder."

You were remarkably calm. As opposed to your uncharacteristically feral actions during the previous few days, this argument was entirely typical of you. Strategic and reserved, but ready to unleash everything in a single strike. 

"I…" Tighnari bit his cheek. He sighed exasperatedly. "Just. Just trust me for once, Capo–"

"Don't call me that." You tensed up. "You lost the right to call me Capo the moment you betrayed your familia. How can I trust you when I don't forgive you? Why trouble yourself so much when you can rip my head off my shoulders right now? I'm just another body between you and your precious cure, correct?" 

He almost didn't notice how you threw a dagger mid-talk like pelting a mere pebble. Tighnari dodged it, albeit barely, and you calculated as much. You won't let him die until he hears everything.

You spat lowly. "You snuffed the lives out of the only people that mattered to me." 

"Please don't be mad. I had to–" Tighnari spilled. "I had to or else Focalor wouldn't help me."

"How the fuck can I not be mad? You're a fox, I'm sure you can smell the hatred I have for you. Your olfactory system is sensitive, after all." You masterfully kept your voice calm despite the severity of your words.

"Your associates are such idiotic bastards then if they have to kill my men for a cure." Your eyebrows furrowed. "Where is it? Where the fuck is the correlation, Professor?"

"It's to prove my loyalt–"

"The only thing you've proven is that you're a piece of shit. Is this what fascism is about? I can't see why you'd ever want to be one."

Tighnari looked down and muttered something you didn't hear.

"Who said I wanted this to happen?"

You continued. "I know I was only spared because I was in the chapel– so take out your gun so we can settle this already."

You fired a warning shot, this time with a bullet and not a dagger, burying another close call between his tall ears.

There were so many things to worry about, but Tighnari relied on hopeless dialogue. It's the only tool he has left to de-escalate the situation.

Unfortunately for him, you're better with words.

"I don't want to kill you."

"Teppei."

"... What?"

"Lyudochka, Kazari, Bao'er, Viktor… " You cocked your gun. "Lindhart. Did you regret killing them?"

"Capo, I know what you're trying to do."

"You should or else we'd both look stupid."

"But saying their names won't change my mind. I've already decided that they're replaceable as friends."

Replaceable?!

"You bastardo–"

You fired a second shot– it missed. With a bit of spite, you aimed higher knowing that he'd evade. You didn't repeat the same mistake.

He ducked behind the second-floor barrier.

But didn't take its spiral pillar designs into account, and the gaps were exactly where you aimed at.

"GAH–"

His guttural scream echoed across the theater.

You shot him in the leg.

Whoever designed that barrier had great tastes– you'll thank the architect for this later.

It'd be so easy to just kill him now.

"Your fur will look better draped around my shoulders, Vulpes." You aimed with Tartaglia's revolver. "It's winter, is it not? Don't worry, I'll put it to good use."

The most significant thing he would do with his life is dying.

Lucky for him, you can’t grant him that just yet.

You still have hope. 

You still believe that there’s a way to get rid of Eleazar.

And as much as you hate it, you also believe in Tighnari.

Rather, you believe in his abilities and nothing more.

With the "goodness" in your heart, you’ll let him finish what he started.

"But I’ll suffer through the winter for now. That cure is the only thing keeping you alive. The day you finish your research will be the day I finish you. After that, I’ll make sure to kill every last person you hold dear."

Tighnari huffed self-deprecatingly, clinging onto his wounded leg by the theater's second floor. gazing at you with a melancholic stare. "Jokes on you (Y/n), there's no one else but y–"

"Cyno. Collei."

His eyes widened.

You smirked jadedly. "I had Inquisitor Cyno keep her in our custody. Did you know that pain is heightened ten times more for those of us suffering from Eleazar?"

You traced your old battle scars. They were all healed, but their numbers will keep multiplying.

Each time you pinch, no matter how dated these may be, it's as painful as yesterday's wounds. Nothing prepared you when you were diagnosed with Eleazar. Each wound, each papercut– the pain clings onto you like a leech that can never be scrubbed out, or else it'll cling tighter. 

"It's excruciating. That's why I was addicted to heroin– it numbs everything. Have you heard? Children are more vulnerable when it comes to drug addiction–"

"Don't." He faltered, lowering his gun. "Please. Don't touch them."

Bullseye.

Them. He used the word “them” instead of “her.” Despite Cyno’s impression, the fox still cares about him.

Maybe you should’ve invited Cyno to tag along.

You tilted the revolver sideways. 

You want him to inflict even more pain.

If Cyno were here, you would’ve made sure he said all the wrong things and watched Tighnari squirm. After all, you do have the uncanny ability to get people to behave in the way you want them to, don’t you?

"Then parry this."

But you didn’t pull the trigger.

Surprisingly, Tighnari bravely climbed up and hung his leg by the barrier, making him more susceptible if you attacked. You can’t tell if you hesitated or you’re curious as to what he’s trying to accomplish– the second floor was meters high above your station– he’ll surely die if he jumped.

Sister Rosaria emerged from your peripheral vision, ragged and stripped of breath. It's a long way from the main theater to the bazaar– she ran when she heard your argument as soon as possible.

Tighnari fished something out of his pocket.

A blue light shimmered in what appeared to be a chess bishop.

… What kind of trick is this? 

"Tighnari, what the hell are you holding?" Your nose scrunched, squinting at the small piece. You could've sworn you've seen that symbol somewhere– in large glass-stained imageries.

"Can't you see?" Tighnari croaked, angrily crying out in a desperate attempt to make deaf men such as yourself hear. "Focalor is the Hydro Archon– there's no better healer than her if you would just allow us to help you find a cure."

His eyes… Whatever it is you’ve said, it had its impact.

Tighnari lost his mind.

Sister Rosaria's breath hitched. Fortunately for both of you, she understood the situation.

"CAPO, GET BEHIND ME–"

"This is the Hydro Archon's gnosis," Tighnari yelled. "I'll prove to you– I'll show you that all those sacrifices were worth every drop of blood I had to spill. Maybe I haven't figured out how to heal with it now but destroying things has always been easier than fixing them!"

Gnosis?

What the fuck is he talking about?

Like the 7 gnosis the Tsaritsa collected?

That bedtime story?

"Fox, where on earth did you get that?!" Sister Rosaria pushed you near the exit door, mediating the argument. "Where did you steal that divine artifact?!"

"Dear sister…" Tighnari chuckled darkly. 

"If there's a will, there's a way."

He raised the chess piece to the sky. 

"I'm sorry Capo– but this I swear: I never betrayed you." He spoke softly while his ears lowered. "Open your eyes– everything I do is all for your health and wellbeing. This little thing right here is worth more than your men. Easier to do things first before apologizing later, that's what you told me last time, right?"

"Fuck off." You didn't take a step forward. In this instance, Rosaria would handle this better than you could. "Take a swim in the river Cocytus for all I care– but don't you fucking dare dedicate that slaughter under my name."

[FREE TALK EVENT: END]

Tighnari grinned emptily.

[AFFECTION METER: ERROR.]

[AKASHA TERMINAL STATUS: DISABLED]

“I’ll never know.” He spoke softly. “I’ll never know why I like you so much. At this rate, I’m too afraid to find out.”

His hold on the “gnosis” tightened.

The bishop piece beamed.

“Farewell, my Capo.”

—-----

[6 years ago]

Alhaitham lived a monotonous life.

The same old nine-to-five schedule: wash up, dress up, eat, work, eat, sleep, and repeat the following day. When compared to his former self, he had a professional short haircut and was dressed in white dress shirts that were buttoned up. Alhaitham has the appearance of a plastic toy. Too typical and bland. Nothing exuded uniqueness.

He thought he got what he wanted. Alhaitham graduated and became an accountant, just like what he aimed for for years. As a child, he grew up under the misconception that he had something special. Alhaitham was the boy every parent preached about when their lackluster children produced little results. Maybe he was the smart kid everyone loathed– but his repertoire was genuine. The world handed him an easy-to-follow script, and he mindlessly fulfilled it with his innate abilities.

But for goodness' sake, if this is what success is, then why is it so empty?

His purpose in living had turned into nothing more than a bank's problem fixer until he returns to doing what he loved most:

Nothing.

What the hell is life boring him for?

"Tired of life, tesoro?"

Alhaitham looked up.

He saw an underdressed person wearing a white tattered shirt and lousily safety-pinned flip-flops. Had they worn white instead, they would be easily mistaken as a hospital escapee. 

More specifically, they looked like they just got out of the heroin rehabilitation center just a few blocks down the street.

Alhaitham didn't send them away. They had a sparkle in their eyes, something that he lacked nowadays. However, there's something about it that made it more noteworthy compared to civilians around here.

Those pupils are (e/c) Khaenri'ahn eyes.

A natural trait, but its presence alludes to artificial happiness in the same manner endomorphs appear friendly and kind. No matter how lifeless a Khaenri'ahn may be, the gem in their eyes will always make them look more alive than the rest of the world.

They covered their mouth.

"Oh, pardon. I can't help but ask. You're rather down and I thought you needed a distraction..." 

They didn't seem all that sorry when they immediately sat down beside him after that apology.

"Incorrect." He bluffed. "What makes you assume that?"

They smiled.

"I dare say you look like you've achieved everything you thought you wanted in life, but you're still feeling empty inside, aren't you?"

Alhaitham's head snapped back in their direction.

"What do you mean?"

"You work for the Banco Di Snezhnaya, around age 23, have a wage of 500 thousand mora per week," they chuckled, gesturing at his hair. "Aaand you probably don't own a hair dryer."

Stalkerish-ly spot on.

"How did you–" He clicked his tongue, disappointed at himself for becoming immersed in parlor tricks. "Nevermind. I'm not buying into whatever astrology thingamajig you're selling."

"Oh please, the only thing I'm selling are matchsticks. Hair dryers ain't astrology, ya dumbass, they're a new Fontaine invention." They huffed. "If my matchsticks could tell the future I would've achieved my dreams by now."

Alhaitham still can't phantom why, but he's oddly intrigued by whatever came out of their mouth.

"And your dreams are?"

"I want to become a journalist." They said, softly knocking their chest with a closed fist. "Future Teyvat Times journalist. The best of the best."

"Unlikely." Alhaitham muffled his laughter. Unlike most people, he can regulate his emotions masterfully well. "Someone like you who obviously achieved no real education? Give up on that dream while you're still ahead."

"Yikes. Already sizing up my intellectual capacity? That's rude."

"I'll see your dreams if it happens." He continued. "But it's my turn to guess things about you– you're a heroin addict who just got out of rehab and now you're stuck doing community service by selling matchsticks. Not only are you uneducated, but you also have a drug record so say goodbye to any stable employment."

They smirked. They were right– he's not the type to hold his tongue. That just makes him a better conversationalist.

"Close, but no dice." They snapped their fingers, pretending to be saddened by his faulty inference. "EX-heroin addict. I got out of rehab a year ago and I'm not selling matchsticks because of community service– that sure sounds better than the actual truth, though."

He'd rather they communicate properly with little subtext and implications. Alhaitham sighed. "Alright, fine. I'm hooked, what's the truth?"

"Don't tell me you can't tell." They raised an eyebrow before they pried their left eye open, showing off their unique pupil. "I'm an immigrant, so of course finding a job is as easy as becoming the seventh archon, ragazzo."

Their butchering of the Snezhnayan language further cemented that they're not from here.

"I didn't get any quote-unquote "real" education, but living on the streets? You'd be caught dead if you're not skilled at inferences." They said grimly, but the smile on their face never left. "That's why I know how to spot a person easily. I know a guilty murderer when I see one, and I know an unsatisfied man once I look down on him sulking by the fountain."

"Right. I forgot you're Khaenri'ahn." Alhaitham muttered.

"Well, then you must be the first person to do so. That's literally what everyone points out after looking at my eyes. Congratulations." They snickered. 

"Why am I even talking to someone as arrogant as you?"

"I may be arrogant, but you're a lot happier now that I'm here, aren't you?"

Alhaitham froze.

"See? I'm pretty good at swaying people into behaving the way I want them to."

"What's your goal exactly?" Alhaitham pulled out his wallet. "Need me to buy a pack of cigars? I'm not funding your addiction."

He said that but he already took out 150 bills.

"Nah. That sounds great though but I was just trying to practice my conversation skills." They sheepishly told him. "I want to practice speaking Snezhnayan, and also cause I want to seem friendly."

"'Seem' friendly?"

They laughed. "Well, we all have secrets, don't we? There's something powerful about being charismatic yet setting boundaries all the same. Master both and you might just get somewhere."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alhaitham grunted.

"We've been talking for a while now– I'm (N/n), and yours?"

"That's…"

Alhaitham subconsciously glanced around. 

Morepesok was not one of Teyvat's safest plazas. And they look Khaenri'ahn in the worst place possible, not that anyone besides him would appreciate that. Drugs are prevalent but it's not the only social cancer in the plaza. Petty thievery, human trafficking, money laundering, the list is bottomless and in no small thanks to the syndicates. Immigrants especially get a bad rep around here as either helpless victims or eager puppets, so forgive him for exercising caution based on generalizations.

They cringed. "Ah, right. Don't worry– no need to spill your real name, just give me something I can call you."

He paused.

"... Deshret."

"Well, well, nice to meet you Deshret. Is that from The Scarlet King's Court Jester?"

"Nevermind. Let's just change it to–"

"No no no! It's perfect." They said. "Very underrated bedtime story. The kids loved it… even though it was pretty dark and abusive."

"Many say it's a real tale."

"Do you believe that?"

It was also his favorite story as a child. 

"Yes."

"Heh. I don't, but I don't want to make little Kaeya cry." They laughed. "As you can probably tell, I'm Khaenri'ahn, and we just don't have all these strange cultural beliefs you people have…"

They gazed down his thighs. 

"Hey Deshret, isn't sitting with your legs together uncomfortable? Go on, cross your legs, or whatever. I don't mind."

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow before he slowly did what he was told. It's been a while since he sat this way. He trained himself to stop since it wasn't appropriate in the office, and somehow he forgot he could still do it outside work.

He relaxed. The change in posture was effective.

"... You're creepily perceptive."

"As I said, gotta be more observant." They chuckled. "Being liked is key to survival–"

Out of the blue, a loud metallic thud reverberated around the plaza. The both of them flinched at the sound and everyone turned their heads to its source.

"Hey, isn't that Adepti Underboss, Xiao?" They whispered.

The Adepti were incredibly busy that year. By June, a rat published a book entitled "Rex Incognito" where they detailed and provided evidence that Morax is the Geo Archon himself, which makes the piece both heretical AND entertaining.

The man, whom they both assumed was underboss Xiao, tossed a man upward till they landed on the roof of a nearby car. With his lithe yet muscular form, he swiftly disposed of a 70kg policeman like a garbage bag. No one moved a muscle in their direction. Not a single person showed empathy for the nose-bleeding cop in the middle of the plaza. The civilians pitied the car owner and not the injured man. Only children shrieked at the sound. For the rest? Just another Wednesday garbage cleanup.

There's no semblance of justice in Teyvat that remains in broad daylight.

Alhaitham closed his eyes, disappointed.

"Pathetic how the tri-mafia overpowers the military police in every way. The police are useless." 

"Yeah man, fuck the system."

"Fuck the system indeed." Alhaitham nodded solemnly. They nearly laughed at how strangely innocent the word 'fuck' sounds coming from him.

"Wanna know what we should do?"

"I genuinely don't."

"Let's join the mafia together."

Alhaitham snorted. It's funny how he considered himself a pro at regulating his emotions moments prior because now he couldn't hold back the cute little chuckles that betrayed his lips. His shoulders trembled as well as his hands while he composed himself.

That was the stupidest idea he had ever heard.

"W-What?" They asked mid-laughter as well, clearly not considering their own enthusiastic suggestion. "Don't think we can overthrow the government together? Tsk, tsk."

They look positively malnourished. Alhaitham would bet on the chance that they'd achieve their dream journalist career rather than a stable life as a future mafioso. 

Then again, Alhaitham looked very straight-laced and put-together before he joined Akademiya. 

"Ah yes, an accountant and a matchstick vendor joining the mafia together; one of them might even become the next leader. Find out next time in chapter 3."

"Coglione, I'm the one who's going to be a journalist here, not you."

"Not with that awful pronunciation you're not."

They frowned. "You Teyvatans are so strict with your stupid lingua francas."

"But still, it's not a bad idea, isn't it? Let's meet each other again after we join the mafia." They nudged his side. "Same time, same place. C'mon, it'd be funny if the next time we meet you'd be holding your head thinking that there's too much excitement in your life now."

Alhaitham rolled his eyes before he looked down at his watch.

"At 6 in the morning?" He looked rather amused for someone who claimed to be uninterested.

They bantered back with the same vigor. "6 AM sharp of course, tesoro."

Alhaitham chuckled. 

They laughed along with him. 

"Heh. Anyways, say, what's it like being an accountant?"

"Well…"

Since then, the two of them began meeting weekly as Deshret and (N/n). They've used their morning hours as an excuse to get drunk in the crack of dawn. Both have forgotten what the true purpose of that time was, 

But it's not as if they'd both remember that joke, right?

—---

Well, if that's true, then Alhaitham doesn't know what the fuck he's doing.

Something about that small conversation rekindled a fire in him– a torch he had never once touched for he saw no need for it. But after seeing how empty those cubicles were– how mechanical the bigger picture was– nothing had been the same for him. His conversations with coworkers were barely anything compared to what he shared with (N/n). Dialogues in the office were canned scripts, and they were oh-so-predictable.

And so that morning, he went up and quit his job before accepting the offer to be the Akademiya Syndicate's bookkeeper. 

But (N/n) was nowhere to be found in their usual spot. 

Not in the fountain– not in the old bar. 

Where the hell were they?

Alhaitham asked the people of Morepesok if they'd seen them, but these efforts were futile. Some were eager to point out that they know what's-their-name-s, but none led back to where they were. And the street urchins that were familiar with the name (N/n) assumed they'd departed the country and gone back to their homeland.

He refused to believe that. Passions quite like theirs do not burn out as easily as he did.

As a result, waiting in Morepesok for (N/n) in the hopes that they'll return has become a daily ritual. For the first few days, no one was eager to approach the new Akademiyan mafioso; instead, he would monitor the time with a feverish bloodlust. Even in Snezhnaya's harsh winters, he is frequently observed by numerous concerned bystanders who urge him to get inside because it is cold out. None of their worries stopped him. He saw waiting as a chance to relieve stress. These quiet moments remind him of his humble humanity, and he was grateful to have ever met (N/n) because of this.

Yet they never came back.

But Alhaitham never held it against them. It's alright.

Thanks to them, he lived the kind of life he never knew he dreamed of.

"6 AM sharp, huh?"

The more he hung around the square, the more people thought they understood him. They were under the impression that this immovable man was not on a syndicate mission– he was just a lovelorn yet patient man.

"But I doubt I'm far gone. I just appreciate them. That's all there is to it." These were the words that helped him sleep at night. But if the term "lovelorn" simply means "unrequited" then perhaps the way he feels while waiting for them to return fits the description.

He was still sitting upright by the fountain in Morepesok Plaza, waiting expectantly for (N/n) to return like a dog.

—----

And even now, he waited.

Until (Y/n), Capo of the Innamorati family, found him lying on the ground.

(N/n) didn't come.

"(Y/n)..." Rosaria whispered while her face grimaced at the pungent and metallic smell. You both observed the pool of blood on the ground.

You and Rosaria narrowly escaped the blast of whatever divine power Tighnari conjured– and you’re still processing what happened in the theatre that you couldn’t comprehend the body right in front of you. If Rosaria wasn’t there to lift you on her shoulders you would’ve stood and resigned to your fate. Thankfully, you weren’t wounded, but the bump you had on the seats when the water pressure pushed you back nearly gave you a concussion. 

In the end, you both came back for Alhaitham with soaked coats and socks, dripping from head to toe. Rosaria’s veil was discarded and left by the doorsteps as it was distractingly clinging to her skin– you would’ve done the same with your coat had it not been one of your favorite ones. Your cold and quivering limbs weep for respite but you remained steadfast. However, your mind does not share the same willpower. Your thoughts were slow but chaotic. 

Just how did Tighnari flood the underground theater earlier?

Was that really a gnosis?

Why did he have one? 

Where did Tighnari flee now?

You shook your head in an attempt to focus on what was in front of you.

Who attacked Alhaitham?

His neck is bleeding and there's a clean stab wound on his neck. The crimson trail trickled down to his exposed arm. With his back leaning on the wall and head facing down, Alhaitham did not move a muscle. You know little about Alhaitham but you did know one thing: he wanted to work with you far longer than your first guess. 

Suppose he’s underqualified to be an underboss, after all, failing his first (and last) mission like this. You once heard Pantalone say that "Akademiyan spies are the weakest species in Teyvat" and your new "underboss" proved that right by messing up the marble tiles with his blood.

The collar you were supposed to give him feels useless in your pocket.

Maybe you should've picked Enjou instead. That crazy maniac would survive better than him, and he's just a merchant in the Abyss Market you like to gossip with.

Alhaitham is pathetic. Was pathetic.

"One of those fascists likely killed your underboss," Rosaria said, sounding awful like she was reading from a script. "It seems that Tighnari will do anything to stop you from maintaining your position."

That's funny, cause the only way those shits can achieve that is by burying you alive– and they failed miserably– comically, even.

Did they seriously think you'd weep for Alhaitham?

For someone as “replaceable” as him, as Tighnari would put it?

You've said it once and you'll say it again: that's fucking hilarious. Tartaglia would love this story– you're sure. They've already taken your best friend Dimitri, everyone else is secondary. You love your men, but they know they can never be him. Hell, you'd argue that if the others were equally loved, Alhaitham would be "less equal" than the others. 

You didn't take a second look at Alhaitham, and not because you lack remorse. 

The real reason is too boring.

He's not dead. 

He's just unconscious.

Sadly no, that was not just the first stage of grief speaking. There's still some life left in him. He's nowhere near as cold as a corpse shouldn't be. Would've made your job a lot easier if he was, but he's still breathing, albeit shallow and excruciatingly so. However, that doesn't change the fact that he'll survive. All for one damn good reason–

Sister Rosaria was the one who attacked him.

The inquisitor must've left him like this hoping that fate will decide whether he lives or not, which means she was hesitant to kill him. In a way, your casual friendship with the nun saved your second underboss. This isn't your first rodeo– you've had good friends who tried to kill you once and vice versa, and it's nothing a visit to Angel's Share can't fix. Rosaria was merely a tool. Her feelings had nothing to do with this. It's a good thing your conversations with Sister Rosaria are never dull, you hate to imagine what you would've done to her otherwise.

Lucky bastards, both Alhaitham AND Sister Rosaria.  

Still, this meant that someone else ordered you to assassinate your underboss.

Someone from the church. The very same cathedral you swore fealty to and devoted half of your life's work on.

You laughed furiously.

"Hahahaha! I see!" 

Who the FUCK is the rat that tried to take what's YOURS?

You wrapped the scarf around his neck taut like a gauze and propped him upward. Alhaitham's weight leaned on your right side as you began lazily carrying him. It doesn't look like he'll wake up soon, so at least he wouldn't be bragging about getting carried by his boss.

Rosaria wore a stiff expression.

You both know the truth, and she's wholly aware you've pieced everything together. But you're not mad at her– any sister of Barbara is a familia to you. She's just following orders, and if what the church wanted was to frame Tighnari for this…

Then who's to say they haven't pinned someone else for any other crime?

But that's not what matters now– Alhaitham's situation is urgent compared to these half-baked conspiracies. 

"He lives." You said. "Don't worry Rosaria."

Neither of you addressed how you subtly forgave her.

She placed two fingers on his wrist. The nun sighed a little too relieved when she felt his pulse. 

"Good. Then we should go find help."

You smirked. "Oh, no need to worry. I know a medical professional nearby."

"Whoever it is you have in mind, you better make the right call, we're losing him." She spoke casually.

Neither of you showed any semblance of panic over a dying man.

Sister Rosaria, a child of the Archons, was more afraid of your fury than his stripping lifeline.

"Of course, Sister Rosaria."

In all honesty, he's by no means the "right call" for this scenario. But who else can you turn to,

other than Il Dottore himself?

—---

→ Common Route First Half Complete!!! ←

A/n: Did y'all think Alhaitham was going to die? Me too. Trust me, I'd give you guys a lot of chances to kill these three.

Btw, did some of their dialogue sound familiar? You're all very creative!!! I had to cut some responses off (I'm sorry.) because some were already similar while others currently don't fit the situation… But I hope some of you read it and went "oh, this is MY answer from the open-ended question (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)!!!" I want you all to feel like you're part of what builds Capo!Reader's personality! 

Same as usual, the underlined word (Il Dottore) leads to the polls. Have fun voting!!!

Deadline: TBA

Taglist, thank you all for reading "OC!MC!" ❤️: @scaranaris-lil-niko @ruru-senpai-is-an-infp @vienettacream @theglowfly @vermillionite @nasidibakar

[watfordgrimoire]

Summer of Shakespeare

To be or not to be -- acts as a coin flip; caster's object with either glow bright white or become shrouded in shadows

Two may keep counsel, putting one away -- prevents whom it is cast on from being able to speak of a secret (forbidden spell)

Let slip the dogs of war -- draws in nearby canines

What light through yonder window breaks -- creates sunlight through the window it is cast on

If you prick us, do we not bleed -- creates a pinprick wound

To sleep, perchance to Dream -- sleeping spell (has a chance to cause the sleeper to have vivid, lucid dreams)

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown -- creates a heavy, golden crown

Get thee to a nunnery -- creates a route to the nearest convent

Take arms against a sea of troubles -- pulls in nearby weapons (only works if near a body of salt water)

In nature there's no blemish but the mind -- removes acne

If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well / It were done quickly -- speeds up electronic appliances (causes the appliances to shut down if cast incorrectly)

A man can die but once -- used by superstitious mages to ward off vampire attacks

The good is oft interred with their bones -- buries objects it is cast on (can also be used as a finding spell when cast with the correct intentions)

It's Greek to me -- translates text to Greek

My kingdom for a horse -- summons nearby equine

Neither a borrow nor a lender be -- if someone owes you money, takes any cash/coins they have on them when cast

Nothing will come of nothing -- cleaning spell

Brevity is the soul of wit -- silencing spell (only allows for a few words while the spell is active)

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day -- heats someone up to the average summer temperature of the area

You have witchcraft in your lips -- enhances the next spell cast

Friends, Romans, Countrymen -- amplifies the caster's voice

Lord, what fools these mortals be -- stunning spell

The course of true love never did run smooth -- rumoured at Watford to cause a couple to break up if cast on them

Now is the winter of our discontent -- snow creation spell (only works when the caster is unhappy)

All the world's a stage -- creates a temporary, basic stage to use for performances

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and other have greatness thrust upon them -- superstitious mages cast this on newborn children in order to increase their depth of magick

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind -- temporary blinding spell (only works if the person it is cast on is in love)

Conscience does make cowards of us all -- scares away nearby creatures

To suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune -- an arrow creation spell

Frailty, thy name is woman -- weakening spell

It is not enough to speak, but to speak true -- forces whomever it is cast on to tell a truth

I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me -- causes nearby dogs to bark

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy -- finding spell

The lady doth protest too much -- reveals if someone is lying

The whips and scorns of time -- attacking spell

I am a man more sinned against than sinning -- shielding spell

Good wine is a good familiar creature -- wine creation spell (difficult spell)

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep -- when cast on someone who is sleeping, has the chance to allow them to bring small objects out of their dreams (difficult spell)

O wretched state! o bosom black as death! -- dyes objects black

Muddy death -- creates a mud puddle

Lay aside life-harming heaviness / And entertain a cheerful disposition -- cheering up spell

And, most dear actors, eat no onions or garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath -- cures bad breath

If after every tempest come such calms, / May the winds blow till they have wakened death -- creates a wind storm

None can be called deformed but the unkind -- reveals if someone has betrayed you, causing them to be covered in boils

Deny thy father and refuse thy name -- name changing spell (can apply to first, middle, and/or last name depending on the emphasis of the words)

The evil that men do lives after them -- creates weapons out of human bones (forbidden spell)

To thine own self be true -- temporary self-confidence increasing spell

Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once -- used in battle to try and scare the opposition into retreat (difficult spell)

Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones -- cast on graves to prevent graverobbing

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and gets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more -- silencing spell (forbidden spell)

And through this distemperature we see / The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts / Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose -- creates a layer of frost

It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing -- causes whomever it is cast on to babble uncontrollably

For there was never yet philosopher / That could endure the toothache patiently -- eases toothache pain

God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another -- temporary disguise spell

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind -- reveals if a suspect is guilty (not always reliable as it can be tampered with)

Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains -- stabilizes piles of soil or rock

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd -- helps boats steer safely into harbor

The empty vessel makes the loudest sound -- drains glasses of liquids (also creates a loud sound)

Though she be but little, she is fierce -- shrinking spell

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break -- undoes silencing spells

[istadris]

The King and the Imperator

Translation of this story ( @elitadream keep an eye out, there's more to come)

Or : when the universes of two short-stacked, moustachioed heroes collide, and their respective nemesis find a common ground.

*

The creature was towering over him.

An impressive feat on its own, given how Caesar was taller than most of his peers. What was most remarkable, however, was the creature itself: a curious hybrid between man, turtle and lizard, one that could breathe fire and break stones with its bare fists. Dragon, his mind kept suggesting, despite his best efforts to avoid dwelling on the ludicrous idea.

Even more interesting was the fact that the creature was smart enough to think, talk, and was, from what he had gathered, a king, a ruling leader.

Smart enough to bark a laugh in reaction to Caesar’s offer.

“So you wanna work for me? You?”

“An alliance is what I’m offering,” Caesar answered coldly, “as our goals seem to align for the time being.”

“An ‘alliance’ implies we both got something interesting to bring on the table. I have the biggest army in the world, the best magicians at my service, and I am the most powerful of my kingdom. What could a twiggy little thing like you offer me?”

“Many things, O king, but most of all what you are currently lacking: strategy.”

The creature snarled at the implied insult and stomped suddenly towards Caser, huge, sharp fangs bared in a vicious snarl. It took all of Caesar’s self-control to not reach for his sword; not that it would do much against the thick scales of his opponent.

“Watch your words, human. You’re a funny distraction for now, but you’re not that amusing.”

Yet as brutish and foul-tempered as this monster was, it was smart enough not to give in to his rage and listen to what Caesar had to say instead. So he stared back in the red eyes, standing tall and proud.

“You said it yourself: you lead the greatest army of this world, you dispose of vast resources…yet what of your conquests? How have you not yet bent this entire world to your rule?”

“Ha, because you think you can do better than ME?”

“‘Better’? I’m leaving this debate to philosophers. I only know I had no throne to claim by birth right, nor fortune or magic. And yet today I’m the master of an empire in all but in name; I am feared and respected by my citizens and foes alike as the conqueror of most of the known world. All who dared opposing me submitted to my armies or perished. Can you claim the same?”

Black smoke erupted from the creature’s nostrils in a low snort, the words clearly striking a chord, but not to the point of causing aggression for now. Caesar even dared to walk a few steps away from his interlocutor, his arms crossed behind his back as he took in the landscape surrounding them as he went on:

“Only one small village of indomitable Gauls still holds out against my troops. But unlike me, they have at their disposal a…magic providing them with incredible strength. Otherwise, they would have been wiped out a long time ago.”

Some of them might have cunning and ingenuity on their side as well…but Caesar didn’t need to mention that detail.

“Two of them, in particular, keep fooling my plans. A pesky duo made of a little runt and a tall bumbling fool following him around. From what I was told,” he added with a smirk in the direction of the king, “we share something in common in that aspect.”

“Might be. Get to the point.”

“It’s very simple,” Caesar said as he turned to face the monster. “You’re used to magic, and there's no doubt as to your strength: even with their powers, you would be quite the challenge to my enemies. As for yours…no matter how powerful they are, two men wouldn’t be able to fend off an organised campaign of my design against their kingdom. A little village where they can focus their effort, yes. An entire country? I beg to differ. This is my offer, mighty king: remove the last obstacles in the way to my hegemony, and I’ll make sure your army can defeat this kingdom standing up to you.”

“And why would your plans be more efficient than mine?”

“Because I have seen your troops in action…if I noticed such a lack of organisation in mine, my centurions would get the whip for such incompetence. A fickle chain of command outside of their king, battle plans relying on capricious and unstable elements, basic and repetitive tactics…”

He let out a small laugh.

“If I can’t do better, I can hardly imagine doing worse.”

“And let me guess,” the monster snarked in a honeyed tone, “I should give you free reign with MY army in MY kingdom.”

The smarmy smile turned into a cruel grimace as the king raised one of his paws, suddenly unsheathing knife-sharp claws and casually looking at them

“What if instead, I killed you and took as my own that army you’re so proud of, hm?”

“Then kill me now, instead of wasting my time,” Caesar shot back with a dismissive wave of his hand.

For the first time since their encounter, arrogance made way for surprise on his interlocutor’s face, but Caesar kept talking without giving a care:

“I thought I was dealing with a king able to see where his interests lie and seize a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but if I’m only facing some mindless, prideful beast, might as well spare me the headache and give me a quick death.”

Red eyes seemed to ignite before narrowing, focused on their prey.

“SO BE IT!!”

The creature suddenly lunged towards Caesar in a deafening roar, his throat blazing with the promise of fire.

And yet despite the danger, Caesar was…not reassured, but…calm. He had dealt with this kind of people before, brash, temperamental and straightforward; the monstrous king was not the kind to waste time over a decision, nor did he seem squeamish at dirtying his own hands in getting rid of a troublesome element.

Whether he lived or died, Caesar would find out very soon. So he remained impassive to the threat, intent on keeping his dignity until the very end.

For several seconds the monster glared at Caesar, teeth bared…until his snarl slowly turned into a fierce grin and he suddenly threw his head back, laughing loudly:

“GWAHAHAHA!! You got nerve, Twiggy, I’ll give you that!”

Caesar managed to let out the breath he had been holding despite himself without the king apparently noticing.

Said king turned his eyes again on Caesar:

“Are you sure you can get rid of these two pains in the rump?”

“Most certainly. But only if you can return the favour.”

The king snorted, looking more annoyed than insulted this time.

“Are all humans so annoying to deal with?” he grumbled, not waiting for Caesar’s answer before continuing, “but you’ve got a point: with how long these moustachioed menaces have been ruining my plans, I can’t let slip any chance to finally put them down. If you can give it to me…I can be very grateful.”

For the first time since the start of the negotiations, he was displaying a serious, dignified demeanour befitting a true king while staring down at Caesar no longer as a troublesome hindrance but as a potential ally.

“Give me absolute victory and I’ll offer you a conquest. What do you say?”

That’s what he had been after from the beginning…and yet Caesar took a moment before answering.

This was a land of madness. Bright colours, absurd landscapes, ridiculous creatures. But under their ridiculous appearance, these strange beings were as strong as resilient and they had magic. Power.

He had to bring but a sliver of that power back to Rome.

Caesar was also aware of taking a big risk. He was alone, away from his armies and his usual influence. He could see the limitless ambition of this beast of a king as it reflected his own, and he would need to make sure it didn’t include Caesar’s own empire. He would need to watch carefully his back less he found himself with a knife in it the second this prideful ally got what he wanted.

But he had not become the most powerful man of his world by playing it safe.

Alea jacta est, he decided as he held his hand out to conclude the deal.

He managed not to flinch when the large paw all but crushed his bones in the handshake.

However, he did stumble and collapsed to the ground at the thunderous slap on his back, the king’s laughter booming above him.

“You know what? I think we’re gonna make a great team.”      

[best-hohenzollern-ruler]

Friedrich der Große (r. 1740 - 1786)

'Old Fritz'

Friedrich's relationship with his father, Friedrich Wilhelm I, is an oft-discussed topic. It was marked by public and private abuses and emotional and physical in nature. While the King's beheading of the then-crown prince's friend was the culmination of this treatment, it was consistent over Fritz's adolescence. Denigrated for his effeminacy, physically assaulted, and denied all earthy respite; it is little wonder that Fritz attempted to flee his father's persecution the first chance he had.

In 1740, Friedrich led Prussia against its first bout against Austrian tyranny. Did we have any claim to Silesia? Not a one. Did we agree to the Pragmatic Sanction? Technically, yes. Did that matter to Old Fritz? It did not, and for that he brought Prussia out of the scrapheap and into history! Because of him Prussia will live on for centuries! ...What the hell is a Kaliningrad?

Many rumors abounded about Friedrich's paramours and proclivities. It's the burden of every great man to endure these sorts of challenges, you see. Some say his testicles were malformed or, even, nonexistent. Some say everything was in fine working order and he sired bastard children with a Madame von Wreech. Some - and this is most absurd, you will agree - even posit that he was a homosexual. I understand hating your wife all too well, but that does not mean 'fortune is a woman and I am not that way inclined' suggests anything improper! ...Voltaire wrote what (Note: I am concerned for your health -L)

Friedrich III (r. March 1888 - June 1888)

The 99-Day King

Surprisingly for a Hohenzollern, Friedrich took a relatively liberal stance to politics. Even more shocking was his pacifist streak that led him to oppose our wars against Denmark, Austria, and France. Do not let his heart fool you; even a Prussian pacifist is nothing to sneer at. In all three conflicts, he commanded his troops capably and treated his opponents with the utmost dignity.

There were many hopes pinned to Friedrich's reign, put there both by himself and his supporters. Alas, he ascended to the throne when he was already terminally il with laryngeal cancer. Push and push as liked, what reforms could a dying emperor make? The most significant aspect of his reign is what it may have been - and what it could have avoided.

We have received a letter, whose author only identified herself as an 'American woman.' It reads: 'I know Fritz is going to beat Fritz, but please look at him. Isn't he the most dreamy Hohenzollern you've ever seen? Those piercing eyes, that strong nose, that beard you could lose your hand in. So what if he didn't like his son? That a crime now in this family? Fritz, your wife is gone, but I know one English maiden who's still seeking a good man. HEY-O!' (Note: Burn this debauchery -L)

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

"always finish your writing session in the middle of a scene/chapter," I say. "it helps with momentum so then you don't have to start something brand new," I say. "great for people like me who hate starting things."

>>>> me literally not doing that

[stranded-labyrinth]

the moment after i made a Romeo & Juliet comparison, i saw another post about it, so i guess it's a sign.

Will said a line based on a Romeo line ("O, I am fortune's fool!"/"I am not fortune's fool, I'm yours.") to Hannibal, thus making Hannibal his Juliet (something a little funny considering that the tale ends in a double suicide for the main leads).

but moreover, if we're thinking of Capulets and Montagues as killers vs. the law/general morality, the comparison makes more sense, especially if you allow Hannibal to represent the younger Capulet characters in general.

the comparison gets me thinking about Mercutio and Beverly. Mercutio was Romeo's friend, sided with the Montagues, but was also sort of a comedic relief. he's a good friend, and he lightens the mood as a stark contrast to the tragedy unfolding around them. the same could be said of Beverly and Will's relationship.

and then Tybalt (a male Capulet- citing again the concept of Hannibal representing Capulets in general) kills Mercutio in a duel. specifically, Mercutio dies because no one listened to him in time as he was begging them to get a doctor, much like how no one listened to Will in time except for Beverly. after Mercutio's death, everything afterwards feels that much more devastating. after Beverly's death, the series is cemented in darkness.

and then there's Romeo's slaying of Tybalt, and Will sending someone after Hannibal to kill him. at that moment, Hannibal was Tybalt, not Juliet. he was an enemy, his feelings not yet mutual. however, Hannibal does not die, and thus Will's guilt for any attempts directed toward the man don't come until Mizumono.

Romeo's punishment thereafter was banishment, much like how Will was no longer welcome in the FBI nor fully trusted by his peers after his release. it could also be comparable to the Mizumono ending. the exile could also be compared to Will's self-imposed exile, when he left to begin a new life far away from everything that happened while all the other characters were still dealing with one another.

in fact, i'll take this a step further: Juliet was also going against the Capulets. repeatedly, we see that Hannibal is being courted (in a way) by other killers, all of whom he declines in favor of Will. he even gets mocked for this repeatedly, between Abel Gideon making fun of his desire, Bedelia expressing her disapproval as carefully as she can, and even Tobias' attempt on Will's life. i would even go as far as comparing Bedelia to Count Paris, a character to be betrothed to Juliet in a way that simply was never meant to be.

in the end, the two choose being together over living a life without the other, even if the only way to be together is in death.

[thewindandthestars]

Questions for my favorite vanilla oreo (I don't like the chocolate ones ; ;)

🪺 - describe your f/os perception of you before you got together, compared to what it is now!

🪷 - if the roles were reversed and your f/o was the one selfshipping with you, what would their blog look like?

🧊 - how would your f/o text you? would they use proper punctuation/capitalization, or type more informally?

🫧 - what song(s) remind you of your f/o?

🪼 - what’s your favorite way to feel closer to your f/o?

(you don't have to answer all of them if it's too much hehe)

The way my brain called you "mimi!!" 💀💀 mirei <33 I don't think I've ever had vanilla oreos 🤔 honestly I haven't had oreos in so long 💀 gonna start thinking about what nicknames I can call you >:3

Thank you for the questions dearie <33

Spinney wheel of fortune time 🤪

Lyrion, lilion and oros ✨

I'll write utc <3

🪺 - describe your f/os perception of you before you got together, compared to what it is now!

Lyrion 💕

Lyney saw me as a witty but very quiet person. Putting aside how we met, the second time he met me and interacted with me he'd compare as a mix between Lynette and Freminet. I'm not shy but I am reserved. I may be witty and quick with my tongue but I quickly get anxious and apologetic. His perception of me would change the more he'd interact with me. Suddenly I'm not as reserved as he saw me, I just pick my company cautiously and once I picked him I was loud and animated, mischievous and easily intrigued. These are just small tidbits of what he saw before we got together, the small things he noticed that pulled him towards my company more often until they were things he fell for.

Lilion 💕

Ugh, my love, my sweet, sweet love Lilia.

Present lilion: Lilia saw me as an anxious and shy person. Something quite different from the fae he's used to being in the company of or that was his first perception of me. That perception quickly changed when he saw me get angry for the first time. Oh? The young Crowley that was believed to be shy and anxious is suddenly vicious and cruel? An interesting sight. Piqued the old man's interest. He'd even say that I'm a double edged sword and that was only proven after he got to know me. Something he enjoyed to see was how quickly I could go from the one side of the sword to the other.

Past lilion: same thing as above except instead of being shy, I was instead a very sarcastic and reserved soldier. We'd bump heads often and my loose tongue irritated him endlessly. He'd avoid me at first until we'd be forced in a room doing our duties and he saw glimpses of who I am outside of the cold facade I put up previously. The more we got stuck together, the more we'd interact, and he'd see that I'm actually not that annoying to be around and my company is actually peaceful and soothing to be around... Well, when I'm not obviously trying to annoy him with my mischievous nature that is. (he liked it, he's just stubborn to admit that though 🙄)

Oros 💕

Heizou was onto me the moment he met me. That shy, anxious facade didn't fool him and man did he feel smug knowing his intuition was right when I started letting that guard fall. His first perception of me was, "Who are you actually?" Took him a bit to get me to feel comfortable around him but he doesn't regret probing that guard often. Went from "who are you actually?" to "god is it fun to tease you" because MAN as soon as he noticed how quickly I react to teasing and how gullible I am, it's over for me. The more he got to know me the more that perception stuck and a few other things got smacked onto that, like how my thought process is interesting to bounce theories and ideas on and how he loves pushing me to think further than I usually would. I'd say that was mostly his thought process before we got together and before he slowly caught feelings for me.

🪷 - if the roles were reversed and your f/o was the one selfshipping with you, what would their blog look like?

Lyrion 💕

Odndodbdkdn, down bad posts. A lot of down bad posts. And yearning posts are a sort of daily thing from him. But overall, his blog would look... Strangely neat? A bit of magician influence here and there. He'd have that dark maroon color and it'd fit the pfp that, which is no surprise, would be me. Official art where I looked really nice and the first time he saw me in his color (he went absolutely feral, poor Lynette had to deal with his swooning). He'd reblog fics he'd read and fanart with a lot of keyboard smashing in the tags. A lot of fan theories too! He'd have a whole masterlist of just fan theories and debunking fanon me. So yeah, his blog would have the maroon color scheme with magician influence and you can clearly see he spent a lot of time constructing his blog to look good.

Lilion 💕

Cute. His blog would look cute. A little out of place if you look at other blogs but that's just because Lilia expresses himself a lot differently than most people. His blog would be a variety of being down bad (in a very subtle and old timey way) and snippets of his other interests like music, gaming, etc. He'd very much be less out there about his self ship preferring to be more private about it but when he does come out of his cave he's very vocal and then goes back into his cave. He'd mostly reblog official stuff, every once in a while fanart but he'd never go into fanfiction. Anyway now I'm just getting off track. His blog would be this hot pink with green and black as other colors. Very scene looking if you know alt styles. His stuff wouldn't be organised at all. If his room is any indication, he thrives in the chaos and only he knows what the fuck is going on in his blog. He'd have an introduction post though and that's where you'd get the scene vibes from. He'd love the blinkers some people make and adds that to the introduction post. But yeah, overall a very cutesy, scene looking blog where the sole purpose isn't just his selfship with me but other stuff too.

Oros 💕

Heizou's blog would be neat and very put together. Might be because of his job and its influence on things in his personal life. He just prefers keeping things tidy and easily found (for him). So he'd have a whole system, like designated tags and what not. Heizou doesn't talk a lot with others on his blog but he does have a few moots that he interacts with from the same Fandom as his f/o. His blog would have a white theme to it and a bit of an orangey brown 🤔 Heizou would often have moments where he's offline with no activity on his blog because of his job but if he isn't nose deep in a case he's pretty active. He reblogs a lot of fics and maybe every once in a while he writes his own, fanart is a sometimes sort of thing for him to reblog so you'd mostly see writing when you scroll down his blog. He puts his thoughts in the tags often too! It's not often that you'd see posts of yearning from him but it does pop up every once in a while when things get rough for him.

🧊 - how would your f/o text you? would they use proper punctuation/capitalization, or type more informally?

Lyrion 💕

It honestly depends on his mood <3 if he's panicking like above all punctuation is thrown out the window. He also likes using gifs and stuff <33 overall he texts normally but doesn't add commas where it's needed. (I cackled making this because the image of Lyney scouring through my tarot deck trying to memorise each image before a show is so funny to me 😭😭)

Lilion 💕

Lilia would be formal with his wording, sometimes he'd use emojis which isn't really shown here but yeah. Punctuation would be on point and he'd rarely use acronyms and all that. He's a fast typer too which is surprising but also not really. If he could customise making his chats look cute, y'all know he would make them look CUTE. (I think I used the wrong too 💀💀 it's fine)

Oros 💕

Emojis are his thing and informal speech like using "u, ur, etc" (ignore the e in ure I lowkey forgot that's not how some people text and I don't text like that 💀). He'd use punctuation when needed like asking questions... And mostly to ask questions lmfao

🫧 - what song(s) remind you of your f/o?

😀prepare for a few songs lmfao also let's not talk about how lilion is just 2 angst songs 💀

Lilion 💕

(Imagining amaranthine sung between me and lilia <33 ugh now i'll forever imagine this whenever i listen to this song)

Onion Rings 💕

("carry you home" is actually venori's first dance song if they had a traditional wedding <3 imagine modern au venori eftheihfe)

Yumion 💕

🪼 - what’s your favorite way to feel closer to your f/o?

I'll answer this for all my f/o's because it's the same for all of them. Usually to feel closer to them I either watch or play the source their from, read fanfiction of them and look at fanart of them. I'm also a really big day dreamer so all it takes for me sometimes other than those three things is day dreaming about them 💕

If I have plushie of them (which I only have one of Venti), I cuddle the fuck out of them and imagine it's them <33

divider by @/cafekitsune

[citrinemystic]

The Major Arcana in Shakespeare Quotes

The Fool - "The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.” As You Like It.

The Magician - “My high charms work, And these, mine enemies, are all knit up In their distractions. They now are in my power.” The Tempest

The High Priestess - "Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak." As You Like It

The Empress - "Age cannot wither her, not custom stale Her infinite variety." Antony and Cleopatra

The Emperor - "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." Twelfth Night

The Hierophant - "Every subject’s duty is the king’s, but every subject’s soul is his own." Henry V

The Lovers - "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." A Midsummer's Night Dream

The Chariot - "A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!" Richard III

Strength - "That’s a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion." Henry V

The Hermit - "To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." Hamlet

The Wheel of Fortune - "Though this be madness, yet there is method in't." Hamlet

Justice - "In a false quarrel there is no true valour." Much Ado About Nothing

The Hanged Man - "And thereby hangs a tale." As You Like It

Death - "Goodnight, sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!" Hamlet

The Tower - "What's done cannot be undone." Macbeth

Temperance - "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in our philosophy." Hamlet

The Devil - "The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose." The Merchant of Venice

The Star - It is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Sonnet 116

The Moon - "The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked, I cried to dream again." The Tempest

The Sun - O, for a muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention. Henry V

Judgement - "if powers divine Behold our human actions, as they do, I doubt not then but innocence shall make False accusation blush and tyranny Tremble at patience." A Winter's Tale

The World - "All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts." - As You Like It

[goetiiaprince]

❝ Am I W E A K ? Am I R E D E E M A B L E ? Do I deserve ( forgiveness ) ?

Time turns like the tide, ebbing and flowing, turning in planetary motions. Candles burn to their wick, extinguishing or setting fire to that which they touch; to end or destroy. Is that what I do? Am I destructive, not just to myself, but to those around me?

Oh! Overflowing!

My greedy, gluttonous, dependent heart! How you seize things too tightly with such formidable desire; so restrictive and suffocating. Let go! Let go! You threaten all that you know! Put back on your opulent mask, the curtain draws open and your audience awaits! You must provide only your greatest P E R F O R M A N C E lest you lose your charm!

Who are you? Who would you be? Who are you fooling?

Heed those cautionary tales, sweet prince! The stars align for the fortunate, for those graced and blessed by the Fates and Tenderness. You are destined for no such things. Lift your chin. March on.

Be vigilant and dutiful; be grateful! ❞

Be grateful, he murmurs once more, tone soft as satin against feathers. He tugs his cape more firmly around his shoulders and sinks into one of the large armchairs within the empty study. He could almost feel safe, feel known among the familiar tomes and artifacts. Almost. Stolas drops his head into his hands and hides just so. For a moment and no longer before straightening his posture, lifting his chin, and composing his features once more. Yes. He lived a life of privilege and luxury; there was very little he lived without. He ought not feel such despair.

The show must go on.