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delude.

Summary:

icy, frigid, lifeless. sunshine once covered his skin finally melts, the blue in his eyes sink deeper with a timbre down his usual cheery tone; now gone, now hollow.

“it didn’t really have to come to this.”

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

"it didn't really have to come to this if you just hand It over." 

 

icy, frigid, lifeless. sunshine once covered his skin finally melts, the blue in his eyes sinks deeper with a timbre down his usual cheery tone; now gone, now hollow.

 

 

 

wouldn’t go down without a fight, the little prince replied, distraught. we didn’t have to do this.

 

you didn’t have to do this —— is what he heard underneath those excuses; and the harbinger’s mouth twitched slightly. furthermore, chirps scold him that It is not an object, It is a person. laughable, It can hardly be called anything at all. 

 

 

 

 

 

and that man openly bleeding on the land he watches over, It, is what tartaglia lives for, he seeks for.

 

 

 

 

childe observes closely, condescending and gauging of the boy and his pet standing in the way of his mission. despite the distance, time ticks with the pounding behind his ears and the crackle gathering down from his veins to his fingertips.

 

 

one step after another, water ripples have become purple currents, and static noises fill his head even if golden eyes attempt piercing through his bloodied mask. eyes that ask, why.

 

 

 

the boy thinks he can protect a fallen god, when he has other things to take care of. sword at ready, conviction in place.

 

even if he looks past all of this, there are echoes of grief and heartbreak conveyed in one look; one that he obviously avoided. people did say it scare them; the way childe’s eyes were dead. and childe didn’t want to admit it; the way he’ll have to face the horror on a beloved’s face when it comes down to the truth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

( we don’t know what the future brings, his own voice, vulnerable, repeats a cherished memory under the stars when he is held and childe thought he isn’t letting go at the time; a corrupted, stained, pointless pursuit. love... is not a permanent fixture. )

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

because this is what i live for, seek for.

because this is the only thing keeping me alive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

but instead, childe gives an almost sympathetic, genuine smile for the last time, if it helps.

 

( it won’t. )

 

 

 

 

"what a shame, having to end your life here. but at the very least, let’s have some fun!”

Notes:

wrote this while i’m projecting hard and also, happy 11/11 chili banner, please come home.