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falconcoast · 1 year

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an eye for an eye | childe x reader | prologue.

prologue; the vortex vanquisher

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as the professor’s right hand for the last five years, you know how to do a job efficiently and quickly. this mission, to go hunt down a seventh-century replica of a spear called the vortex vanquisher, is no different.

a/n: welcome to the aefae reboot! you might notice that this fic is formated much differently than any of my other ones. that’s because i gave myself the ick when writing in lowercase LMAOOOOO !!!!! anywho, enjoy this story about thieves and heists and enemies who really really hate one another!

tw: violence (non-graphic), swearing

Thieving was like a game of chess.

You pushed a few pawns around (in this case, the handful of guards you beat up and left knocked out on the floor earlier). You always had to be one step ahead of your opponent, moving right under their nose. You didn’t irrationally jump on any opportunity you could and there was a strategy for everything (like beating up the aforementioned guards instead of sweet-talking your way into the cellar).

If thieving was like chess, you must be the grandmaster.

And now, it was time for your next play.

The cellar was silent when you stepped into it, and unlike the party you had just left. The old scent of oak barrels and finely aged wine permeated the basement. Carefully, you navigated the dark room, oblong case in hand.

You hurried, weaving through the dimly lit shadows of the cellar. Your earpiece buzzed, but you drowned out the noise with a soft tut. Laying your eyes on a clothed set of boxes, you perked up. Yanking off the fabric, you quietly pried open the biggest box. You licked your lips. It was just the right size for your case.

It glimmered in the dull light of the room, as if it was truly as sacred as the myths would say. It was a seventh-century replica of the Geo Archon’s spear--the Vortex Vanquisher. The tip looked like it was solid gold, and the bronze metal looked like it had never been touched before. Putting on gloves, you opened up the case you carried with you. Delicately, you secured it into place in cushioned velvet. The Professor was going to very pleased with you.

Attaching the case to your back, you whistled as you walked away from the crime scene. You stepped over the unconscious guards, entering yourself back into the grand party. You dusted yourself off and slipped into the crowd.

Your exit was under a hundred steps away, up the stairs and on the rooftop. If you could just manage to get to the staircase--

“Sorry, but this area is restricted to people on the guest list. Mr. Ji’s strict orders,” the security guard said as you attempted to start up the stairs. You fought the urge to purse your lips. “Are you on the list?”

“Ah, apologies,” you lied. You were never sorry. Motioning to your case, you smiled. “I’m one of the musicians for Mr. Ji’s quartet upstairs.”

Without much fight back, he moved aside to let you through. You smirked. Too easy, you commended yourself.

Up the second flight of stairs, you navigated through the crowd again. It wasn’t your type of party. In fact, you didn’t like any sort of large parties like this. People danced around you with flutes of champagne, oblivious to your crime. You casually passed through, keeping your head down low. At the next staircase, you used the same excuse of being a musician to allow you through.

At your final flight of stairs was where you met trouble. “I’m a musician for Mr. Ji’s quartet on the third floor. I play the oboe,” you smiled as nicely as you could, showing off your case that definitely did not hold the seventh century model of the Vortex Vanquisher.

“I see. Well, I’ll have to check that case for a moment, and then I can let you up there.”

You swore internally, but took off the case on your back. Briefly gazing around, you noticed that there was no one else around this area with the stairs. You supposed now was a good time as any to be a little indulgent with your strategy. And besides, the Professor wasn’t in your earpiece to guide your moral compass north.

As you placed a hand on the buckles, you quickly jutted the front end of the case into his chin. Without a second to process the attack, you ran up the stairs and jutted the bottom of it into the back of his head. You didn’t need to spare a glance to know he was on the floor.

Pressing into your earpiece, you ran up a flight of stairs. “This is Chariot to the base. Xiao, you there?” you said, opening up a door to a set of emergency exits. “Are you on the rooftop yet?”

“No, about three minutes out,” he replied, a little too casually for your liking. You scoffed--you had two minutes at best until someone noticed any of those unconscious guards.

“Hurry it up! We don’t have all day!” you scolded, sharply turning to get up the stairs. He mumbled something incoherently, but you heard the bits and pieces of swears.

Traversing up the stairs, you awkwardly climbed with the case in hand. At the bottom of the stairwell was the sharp shout of security guards. Mr. Ji sure has a lot of guards, you thought to yourself. You noted that you should probably not take a commission the morning of.

Bursting through the rooftop door, you were pleased to see Xiao rolling in with the helicopter. Standing at the edge, you let the wind touch your heated skin. Adrenaline still rushed through your body, tensing your muscles in waves. Your tensed fist around the case handle almost loosened.

Your peaceful moment was ruined by the sound of the door pounding. You scowled, cursing yourself for not locking the door. Looking around, XIao was only a few hundred feet away. The helicopter door swung open as he swooped down to your level. The case you had was by no means aerodynamic, but it was light enough to throw around. Briefly looking around, you calculated your choices.

Bracing the case on your shoulder, you flung the case on the floor of the helicopter, satisfied when it landed in the dead center. Looking behind you, security was within an arms’ length to you. Motioning over to Xiao, you indicated that he needed to keep heading right and quickly. He dipped down slightly, whirring blades just below you.

Taking a running start, you sprinted along the length of the rooftop’s edge before jumping over the side. Below you, the Harbor’s minuscule cars and street lights were in the palm of your hand.

Security looked on in shock as you hung from the landing skids with one arm. You grinned, launching yourself up into the enclosure with the case. Slamming the door shut, you carefully cradled the case as you laid on the back seats. That was more than enough excitement today, and you were sure that your boss would be pissed that you had made such a close call.

Xiao looked at you in the rearview mirror. “All good back there?” he asked, as he swung the helicopter over the skyline.

“Doing just fine,” you nodded.

“By the way, that big coat you love so much—the one with the belt, I think—is right here.”

He opened up the middle compartment, and threw you a heap of fabric. You caught it, cherishing the sleek, black fabric and its long collar and coffee-colored buttons.

Closing your eyes, you smiled. Another mission well done for the Chariot.

Xiao soon dropped you and your case off at the front, thankfully hedged private lawns of the Liyue Museum of Arts and Culture. It was the centerpiece of the adjacent university, where you studied as a graduate student. Walking on the marble stairs, you walked through the veranda. Statues of the seven archons watched with steely eyes as you slipped to the back end of the museum. Momentarily, you stared up at Focalors, whose gaze looked especially sharp in the moonlight. Turning away, you slid your key card into an adjacent door and entered with a soft whoosh! of your coat.

As a volunteer educator and guide, by day, you were giving tours about the city’s myths after class. You passed by the grand murals that dated back several centuries ago, where Rex Lapis charged head on with his army of adepti against dragons and miasmas. You smiled to yourself; that one was your favorite. You were responsible for its rightful return two years ago, after a third of it had been stolen.

Taking a left, you entered into a hallway and slid your keycard again. You opened the plain looking door, which opened into a darker entryway. Black walls held up portraits of significant donors, painted in delicate, yet moody colors. Their eyes were on you as you passed by. The case began to feel especially heavy in your hands.

At the end of the hall was a large set of golden doors. Up the sides snaked the dragon form of Rex Lapis, scales worn from time. In the center was a state-of-the-art keypad and retina scanner. You plugged in the password, stared into the scanner, and let the wind brush your face as it creaked open.

Your boots hit the floor of the office with deafening clicks, along with your black coat rustling. The room had a similar scheme to the former hall: black walls, gold detailing, and oddities along the table behind the sofa set. You looked down at the most interesting one, which was a pair of scales tilting back and forth perpetually.

At the front of the room was a large, honey-colored desk with a black chair to accompany it. Behind it was a large flatscreen attached to the wall above an empty, chiseled fireplace. It showed a gallery of the museum’s newest exhibits, and displayed several iconic pieces of art that belonged to the institute.

“Professor,” you addressed to the back of the chair. Placing the case gently on the desk, you slid it over. “I come bearing gifts.”

Slowly, the man in question turned around. He wasn’t just your professor at the graduate school, but the most well-known museum curator in Liyue--maybe even the world. His long, chestnut-colored hair swept over his shoulder and his glasses sat pointedly on the edge of his nose. His suit coat hung off of his shoulders, and his hands were busy with a red pen and a stack of papers. Placing a fist on his cheek, his amber eyes lightened and he leaned into the side of his chair.

“Why, hello to my protege,” he greeted. “Perfect timing. I got notice from Xiao that you finished. He sent me your case rundown earlier.”

“We’re alone, Professor. You can just say my name. There’s no need for formalities,” you said in a typical routine. He smiled like a parent who appreciated their child’s silly advice.

Sliding open his drawer, he pulled out a pair of black gloves. Slipping them open, he flexed his hands before taking the case from you.

As he took out the spear from its velvet case, you smiled. Professor Zhongli was always so happy when given an artifact or art piece, and could list off an endless amount of facts about it. It felt right when you gave him what you stole back, as he was the only one with the network to present it back to the communities or museums that they belonged to.

Standing up, he wielded the weapon with ease, as if he had done this several times before. He spun it, threw it up in the air, and caught it. You gaped openly at him while he chuckled jovial laughter. You felt slightly concerned that the Professor was wielding an artifact in this manner, but you’d seen him do much stranger things. “Seems like I’ve still got it,” he grinned, brandishing his spear and holding it at the hilt.

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he dismissed before caressing the end. “A perfect replica of Rex Lapis’ Vortex Vanquisher. This particular copy was discovered in the seventh century, but its handiwork is reminiscent of a time before that. It is divine, in a way. It is a miracle that it has not eroded away with time. To think it was stuck in a basement all this time…what a waste. It’s good to see that it is back in its rightful home after nearly three decades of it being missing. After all, the historical society donated it for the purpose of education.”

“It’s truly nice,” you nodded.

He set down the spear and sat down. Professor motioned that you do the same, and you obeyed without hesitation. “The funds will be transferred to your bank account tomorrow morning, as per usual,” he began, crossing his legs. “But, dear Chariot, I believe we need to have a talk about your behavior while out on a mission. Especially for the heist I have planned for you.”

You froze in place, affronted by his criticism yet intrigued by what he might imply. For the last six months, the professor hinted about the grandest heist yet. You thought nothing could top your thieving back of the mural, or the time you stole back a pair of earrings supposedly owned by an ancient adeptus, or the time you took centuries-aged wine away from an underground auction. But the way he made it sound was like he was

Narrowing your eyes, you crossed your arms. “I’m listening,” you replied.

“In the rundown, Xiao reported that you took a running start and jumped off of a forty-story building, in which he had to swiftly catch you,” he said, furrowing his brows while looking at you intensely. You folded under his gaze, burying yourself in the comforts of your dark coat.

“Hasty of me, I am aware,” you stated, voice muffled into your long collar.

“And you barely caught yourself on the landing skids as well! One armed, within reach of the personnel about to catch you,” he tsked, disappointed.

You attempted to speak up, but he held up a hand to stop you. “Ganyu looked at the aftermath. You knocked out 16 security guards, injured five bystanders, and damaged over 10,000 dollars worth of property. What happened to being elegant? To being tight and tailored?”

Ashamed, you ducked your head down. Staring at your thumbs, you took in a deep breath. Suddenly, he spoke up.

“It risked your life!” he thundered, fist colliding with the oak wood. You shrunk into yourself a little more, like a young child being scolded by their father. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “That was out of turn. I apologize. But my sentiment remains: you need to take care of yourself and not put your life at stake for these sorts of things. No artifact or painting or statue remnant is worth it.”

His voice softened for a moment, looking at his desk. “Y/N, I’ve been looking at your past missions, and for the last seven months, you’ve been taking more intense missions, nearly weekly. You used to go on missions once a month and they were relatively tame compared to what you do now. Do we need to talk? Is this about what happened with--”

“Professor,” you cut off curtly. “Please. Not now.”

“I only worry for you,” he softly said. “I think it would be in your best interest to return to partnerships.”

“Absolutely not,” you scoffed. “I’m fine. I really am! And this new heist, or whatever you’ve got planned, can be handled by me. Alone.”

He shut his eyes and leaned back. “So you say, but when the time comes, I’m unsure. And that is where I worry.” Standing up, he took his papers and placed them in a drawer underneath the desk. “We can talk about the heist and all of this tomorrow. Come to my office again after you finish your classes for the day.”

“As you like it,” you complied. Getting up, you dusted down your black coat. “See you tomorrow, Professor.”

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

You turned swiftly, shoving one hand in your pocket and using the other to wave.

After classes, you were in the employees’ lounge of the museum getting a snack. Taking a knife out of its block, you shuffled around to get an apple from a fruit basket. Hearing a noise behind you, you looked up while cutting the skin off of your apple. “Hey, Xiao,” you said. “How’d your martial arts match go?”

“Just fine,” he said, taking a swig from his thermos. There was a thin sheen of a sweat on him, despite being in a chilly room. He crossed his arm before falling down on the couch. “Knocked out the guy in one go. It was pretty satisfying.”

“Sounds like you won, then.”

“Of course I won. Who do you think I am?”

You let out a chuckle as you left the room. Continuing down the hall, you spotted Ganyu walking around with a few files. Her eyes blinked slowly, as if she were just waking up from a nap. “Good afternoon, Ganyu,” you greeted the in-house archivist. “New exhibit?”

“Indeed! We received more information on trading our historical fashion exhibits. Their archivist was so polite when I called her.”

“That’s a great change of pace from whatever was happening with the Natlan museum,” you grinned. “See you around!”

You kept walking, and threw away the skin of your apple into a trash can when it got too long. Two of the seasonal interns, Chongyun and Xingqiu greeted you with gentle smiles, continuing conversation about books that were donated from the outskirts of the city.

Once more, you entered the hallway to Professor Zhongli’s office. Plugging in the passcode and briefly looking into the retina scanner, the doors pulled open. Cutting away the last of the apple skin, you piped up to your boss. “Hey, I’m bac--” you began before your eyes widened.

Before Mr. Zhongli’s desk was a tall, lean man. His head was a mop of coral colored waves, sticking out in odd places. His cheek and nose, the only visible part of him before he turned around, was milky pale with freckles. His lips were a soft pink, rosy and warm.

But none of his features stood out as much as his coat did. Like yours, it was collared, with buttons and a loose belt. It sat on his shoulders nicely. The shade was a neutral gray, with red lining on the inside. The belt had a small charm on it at the end.

But, black was the standard color of Mr. Zhongli’s forces. You took it that this person, whoever it was, was an enemy.

As if on instinct, you angled your knife back and threw it. It barely missed, grazing the side of his neck and causing blood to drip down slowly. Taking in a deep breath, you tightened your hands into fists, ready to fight.

It was then that you noticed that Mr. Zhongli was behind this person, and his hand was raised. In the aforementioned hand was your knife, which he promptly slammed down into his desk. You let out a little squeak, surprised and embarrassed. “What did I talk about needing a partner? More than that, what did I say about self-control?!” he grumbled, crossing his arms. Your hands relaxed, but you couldn’t keep your temper at bay.

“Professor, who the hell is this?” you barely got out, discarding your uneaten apple.

“Do all your subordinates have this kind of bloodlust? I mean, if they do, I don’t have a problem with it, but I’d like to know in advance,” the man spoke up. You rolled your eyes.

“Shut up. You speak out of order.”

“And you just tried to murder me!”

“Enough!” he silenced, looking at the two of you. Clicking his tongue, he fished around in one of the drawers. Pulling out a cloth, he offered it to you. “Your neck. It’s bleeding a little.”

Touching it gently, you recoiled when you saw the crimson liquid. Tsking, you hastily took it and dabbed at it. You didn’t even notice, too obsessed with trying to protect your boss. Maybe he was right about needing a little more control.

“Will you please, for the love of Rex Lapis, explain who this is?!” you exclaimed As you pulled away the cloth, you set it down and folded it nicely.

“Seems like I only have one piece of cloth. Treat that cut, please,” he ignored you blatantly, to your chagrin.

“Thank you,” he replied cheerfully, cleaning the side of his neck. You cringed, aghast that both of your blood was on that pristine white towel.

“Two temperaments, both hot-headed in different ways. Two matching scars that will form, both of the sides of your necks. And now, two bloods, both on the same cloth.”

“Aren’t you a history professor? I don’t think you’re my Liyuean historical philosophy teacher,” you muttered.

“Chariot,” the professor piped up, looking at you. You perked up in attention, eager that he addressed you for the first time since entering the office.

“Yes, Professor?”

“Meet your new partner. Code name: Childe. Childe, meet your partner: Chariot.”

You gaped openly. “Excuse me?”

don’t usually do an end note, but before i get asked: no, the reader will not be referred to by their code name all the time. be patient, my “y/n” lovers <3

taglist (open!): @da-disappointment @neonnian @escapeis

#grace writes #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact childe #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact reader insert

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