Work Text:
‘A shard of a Foul Legacy’.
That’s the item Aether asked Zhongli to bring back this time. And, with all honesty, it wasn’t that much of a bad request. Zhongli was aware of how much Tartaglia liked to fight and spar, but he couldn’t really bear the thought of hurting his beloved.
Thankfully, for this week, he came up with a different strategy. One that didn’t require violence or force - maybe just a bit.
Tartaglia didn’t really seem to be fond of it, probably preferring the regular fights a million times over this method, but Zhongli could take the criticism. He would manage to sleep with ease at the end of the day, knowing he didn’t hurt anything but Tartaglia’s enormous ego and pride.
“X-Xiangsheheng!” Tartaglia giggled in panic, his hands clenched into fists and his feet kicking behind Zhongli’s back. He aimed for a punch or two, a slap or even for a burst of Hydro energy, but nothing seemed to work. It was like hitting a wall, an unmovable boulder. “This ihihis cheheheating!”
“Are you going to hand over what I asked you?” Zhongli replied calmly, smirking as Tartaglia’s fists banged into his arms and shoulders. The only answer he got for his question was more frantic laughter and Tartaglia’s head shaking left and right. “Very well.”
Instead of clashing their weapons, Zhongli decided to use one of Tartaglia’s so-called “weaknesses”.
The first time he opted for this strategy was two weeks ago. He simply walked into their usual arena and, instead of bearing his spear, his hands were bare. After tackling Tartaglia down to the ground, the harbinger was surprised when skillful fingers tickled and abused the sensitivity of that body Zhongli knew so well.
It took him around a couple minutes of tickling before Tartaglia was ‘defeated’ and agreed to hand over the materials.
The second time, however, Tartaglia was more stubborn. Zhongli had to tickle him for almost half an hour before he finally surrendered, even stripping Tartaglia from some of his clothes like his shirt and boots. By the time they were done, Tartaglia noticed Zhongli wasn’t merely joking and, actually, was using this as a strategy to fight him instead of his strength.
He didn’t like that. But Zhongli didn’t really care - he refused to fight Tartaglia.
So, aware of that, when Tartaglia saw Zhongli walking into the arena this week, flashbacks of their previous “fights” flashed before his eyes and his first instinct was to run. If Zhongli didn’t catch him, he couldn’t tickle him.
However, after a good and long chase, here Tartaglia was. Trapped under Zhongli’s weight and having his torso mercilessly tickled by him.
“I waHAHAhant a fahahair fight!!” Tartaglia whined, trying to sound annoyed while laughter continued to pour off his lips. “This ihihis huhuhymiliahahting, xiahahangsheheng!!”
“Then hand over the materials and end it, Ajax,” Zhongli scolded, almost making it sound like it was Tartaglia’s fault.
“Nehehever!! Yohohou- you ahahare a cheheheater!!”
“Suit yourself,” Zhongli huffed, deciding to take things up a notch. He was going to go back with those materials, Tartaglia liked it or not.