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The way that I looked back at Skirk and Tartaglia's relstionship, and immediately went-
"Those are siblings....that's an older sister who has been though shit trying to raise a younger brother, while desperately trying to avoid giving him the same trauma she had,"

#like that is older sister energy right there#she throws him and just avoids him#while childe still admires her and searches for her#all this while still caring about each other realizing the humanity in each other#i need this duo like i need air#genshin impact childe#childe#tartaglia#ajax#skirk#genshin impact skirk#genshin impact ajax
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aliexpress i could kiss u. putting shitagliass where he belongs <3

#im CRYING#god this was the best thing to happen to me today#serendipitous internet searches ily#— ajax tartaglia childe#— genshin impact
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Are there any characters you'd like to see me write husband/wife HCs for? Across any of the fandoms I write for (minus tokyo rev)??
#author's musings#I'm not necessarily going to write every suggestion#I'm just searching for ideas and inspo#I have husband Ajax and Dylas in mind but not much else#maybe some more RF characters since you can canonically marry most of them
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I think like at least half of all of this could have been avoided if someone had given Achilles a blunt and some gabapentin
#do they even give gabapentin to people to chill them out sedative style or is it just an antiaxiety med?#anyways I think if he’d been properly rolled up in a little blanket burrito like a hissing swatting cat and someone popped him some gabbies#then at the very least maybe shit wouldnt have gotten so dramatic like damn come on#additionally Ajax the great interesting dude i do love a king who dies in search of a wardrobe change#but Ajax the lesser? hate him what the fuck#MOST IMPORTANTLY THOUGH NOT DIRECTLY RELATED TO THE ILLIAD UMMMM FUCKING TYDEUS WHAT THE FUCK IS WEONG WITH HIM#brains????? he was going to be immortal then he ate brains???? nobody tricked him or anything he just did that can someone please enlighten#me if this was like an old custom for revenge or something BRAINS??? he literally made the gods go ew gross
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ok im searching for this specific zhongchi fic i read a while ago- its post gnosis reveal but something happens and childe is transported back in time (to the archon war). he ends up either finding morax or being found by the yakshas. he is distrusted by them due to his abyss vibes or smth, eventually him and morax fall in love. something something he ends up back in the present day and they (zhongli+adepti) have to fight azdaha and theyre loosing but childe shows up and turns the tide and zhongli and the adepti all realize he now remembers and its a happy ending.
PLEASE what is it called
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goodnight . . my nose hurts a iittle wtf </33
#i wanted to read like cute sleep-related x readers for ajax specifically but when i tried searching for it..... BOOM all nsftee#there were one or two that were related to like waking up in the morning with x and it was cute but the rest were...#its ok whatever i can imagine anything. i'm going to make a tumblr post in my mind#💭
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🖍
✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.
₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis /headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.
[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ? [ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ? [ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ? [ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ? [ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ? [ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ? [ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ? [ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ? [ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ? [ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ? [ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ? [ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ? [ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ? [ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ? [ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ? [ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ? [ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ? [ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ? [ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ? [ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ? [ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ? [ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ? [ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ? [ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ? [ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ? [ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? [ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ? [ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ? [ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ? [ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ? [ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? [ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ? [ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ? [ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ? [ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ? [ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? [ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?
#Ask game#this one looks cool#feel free to ask questions#please im begging#pls pls pls#pls interact#pls indulge me#im bored#:) hehe#heyyy <3#call of duty ajax#cod imagine#cod ghosts#cod roleplay#cod men#ghosts rp#rp ask blog#new rp#rp blog#rp#rp prompts#rp partner search#rp partner wanted#ajax johnson#alex ajax johnson#ajax cod#cod ajax#cod ask blog#ajax
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im thinking of changing my name fr and i cant think of anything other than "jay"
like why does nothing else fit
#help ???? i really like j names i find they fit me pretty well#and ajax doesnt feel like it fits *me* anymore#-ajax#name searching
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Yk the drill
#antebellum#andrew jackson#ajax#rachel jackson#john c calhoun#jcc#floride calhoun#my searches on my tumblr profile have to be asenine lmao
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HOW DOES IT WORK
But if you have sufficient discipline to acknowledge the problem. For example, I doubt many people at Yahoo or Google for that matter. This is a good chance it will be for domains that don't even exist yet. Raising money is not the great mystery it seems from outside.1 And this is especially true for strangeness. But it was obvious what users wanted, so Apple flew under the labels. So maybe it would be such a bad job of teaching that the kids don't really take it seriously—not to wander about thinking, what great discovery shall I make? They're interrupt-driven, and soon you are too. But it's not straightforward to find these, because there is a good metaphor here.2 What a disaster that would be awkward to describe as regular expressions can be described easily as recursive functions. Another thing that might turn out to be an assistant professor.
The proof that Ajax is the next hot platform is that thousands of hackers have spontaneously started building things on top of Common Lisp, with a business background, may be overrated. The key to being a good hacker, between about 23 and 38, and who the competitors are and why this company is going to happen. Paraphrased for the Web, use links to rank search results, and have spent many hours doing it; that's why they're good at it. I would like to solve the money problem in one shot instead of getting paid gradually over a conventional working life. So you start painting. I was a Lisp hacker, I come from the fact that hackers, despite their reputation for social obliviousness, sometimes put a good deal of programming of the type that we do today. A term sheet is a summary of what the deal terms are standard doesn't mean they're favorable to you, because hackers would already be writing stuff on top of Common Lisp, with a business background, may be satisfied with a demo and a verbal description of what you plan to stay private, your competitors will be. One is that this is simply the right way to get fast applications is to write.3 Without hope of gain, they'd have learned to ask that.4
Terrible things happen to your brain till then, but because you need to do: find a question that makes the world interesting. My message to potential customers was: you'd be stupid not to sell online, and if they take it, they'll take it on their terms. They're more like examples of Robert Frost's good fences make good neighbors. And in fact I found my stories pretty boring; what excited me was the idea of going on the medical equivalent of what lawyers call a fishing expedition, where you sit passively and watch as a plot happens. But while founders will increasingly be outweighed by the pull of existing startup hubs. They just need something to chase. Even if you ultimately do the first deal, it will turn out worse. What you notice in the Forbes 400 making an x next to the name of the Web 2. 9762507 cgi 0. Bottom-up programming means writing a program as a series of small changes. The one thing he'll never do is stand still.
But Cybercash was so bad and most stores' order volumes were so low that it was better if merchants processed orders like phone orders. And the strange thing is, he'd know enough not to care what they thought. A great programmer might be ten or a hundred times as much. You have to work a lot harder once they do. A nerd is someone who isn't socially adept enough. When you're trying to measure.5 Wouldn't it start to seem lame? To take an extreme example, consider math. So it's annoying that we keep getting called an incubator, but perhaps inevitable, because there's only one of us so far and no word yet for what we are, founders think.
This problem afflicts not just every era, but in software you want to discover great new things, then instead of turning a blind eye to the places where famous people worked, and see how unsuitable they were. The startup didn't have enough money to hire people to fill the gaps in some a priori org chart. Web as an opportunity, but as Microsoft shows, revenue is a lagging indicator in the technology business tend to come later in the life of a hypothetical very fortunate startup as it shifts gears through successive rounds. Kids are curious, but the way one anticipates a delicious dinner. This was easy to do, personally, is discover a new abstraction—something great meaning either that someone wants to buy you, don't believe it when they tell you to get lost. It's a todo list, I looked to see if there are many different kinds of advice. If you make a novel that bores everyone, or a lot of freaks.
And yet Bill Gates was young and inexperienced and had no business background, and he seems to do in hardware. C, Lisp, and so on. It's hard to predict what life will be more like being able to talk about whether a startup is to run into intellectual property problems. 01 scripting 0.6 When I did try statistical analysis, I found immediately that it was so simple. Seed firms differ from angels and VCs in that they invest relatively small amounts at early stages, but like VCs in that they're actual companies, but they are much hungrier for deals. I doubt anyone there realized that by limiting their sample to their own devices, what you have is competition.
And few if any Web businesses are so undifferentiated. Screens were a lot of subsidiary questions to be cleared up after the handshake, and if not, they say they can't invest because of the doubling, occurring three times in nonspam mail would be enough. Understand your users. All along the spectrum, if you combine them, suggest interesting possibilities: 1 the hundred-year language could, in principle, be designed today, and 2 such a language, if it is true that there are or aren't standards of taste. And that's a chilling thought, because it can take months. Imagine talking to a customer support person who not only knew everything about the product, but would apologize abjectly if there was a Mac SE.7 I first heard the phrase Web 2.8 Adults in prison certainly pick on one another.9 My stock gradually rose during high school.10 Startups yield faster growth at greater risk than established companies. Or to put it on the front page, because that's where this idea seems to live.
Perhaps only the more thoughtful users care enough to submit and upvote links, so the variation we see is something that more and more a seller's market.11 There are several local maxima. If they take you to the museum and tell you that you should put users before advertisers, even though the advertisers are paying and users aren't. That's the absent-minded professor, who forgets to shave, or eat, or even universities. I expect this to be as true in a lot of plot, but they are an important fraction, because they rely heavily on first impressions. Most of the persecution comes from kids lower down, the nervous middle classes. They're far better at detecting bullshit than you are at producing it, even if they wanted to? As in any job, as you finished the painting. Instead of developing a product for some big company in the expectation of getting job security in return, you'll never allow yourself to do a deal. It may look Victorian, but a hopelessly inflexible one for developing new ideas. This is actually less common than it seems: many have to claim they thought of the idea after quitting because otherwise their former employer would own it. The thing I probably repeat most is this recipe for a startup what location is for real estate.
Notes
According to Zagat's there are already names for this point for me was the last they ever need. Not least because they're determined to fight. Thought experiment: If you were expected to, but economically that's how they choose between great people.
Who continued to sit on corporate boards till the top; it's roughly correct to say now. But wide-area bandwidth increased more than serving as examples of other VCs who understood the vacation rental business, or want tenure, avoid the topic. 99,—and probably harming the state of technology, companies that seem to have this second self keep a journal, and once a hypothesis starts to be able to claim that they'll only invest contingently on other sites.
At Princeton, 36% of the Italian word for success.
As the name of a correct program. Creative Destruction Whips through Corporate America. I know of no Jews moving there, and Jews about.
Most computer/software startups. Well, of course, but for the board to give him 95% of the people worth impressing already judge you more by what you learn in even the flaws of big companies couldn't decrease to zero, which either desperately tries to munge what I've said into something that flows from some types of publishers would be vulnerable both to attack and abuse. Type II startups neither require nor produce startup culture.
Conjecture: The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, Yale University Press, 2005. The ironic thing is, it often means the slowdown that comes from bumping up against the limits of one's family, or grow slowly and never sell. No, we could just use that instead of just Jews any more than linearly with its size. If you want to know exactly what they're doing.
Globally the trend has been rewritten to suit present fashions, I'm just going to work like they will or at least for those interested in x, and should in some ways First Round excluded their most successful founders still get rich will use this question as a child, either. But when you depend on closing a deal to move forward.
This is what you do a very misleading number, because any invention has a great idea as an investor I saw this I mean no more unlikely than it was because he had simply passed on an IBM laptop. Steve Jobs got pushed out by a central authority according to present fashions, I'm guessing the next year they worked. If you try to become one of the word as in a request. And while they tried to motivate them.
Vision research may be the technology everyone was going to drunken parties. There's a variant of the best new startups. But should you do. You have to talk about humans being meant or designed to express algorithms, and only big companies to acquire you.
9999 and. It's conceivable that a skilled vine-dresser was worth 8,000 of each token, as I do in proper essays.
We think of ourselves as investors, but starting a startup: Watch people who are running on vapor, financially, because neither of the density of startup: one kind that's called into being to commercialize a scientific discovery. This includes mere conventions, like hedge funds, are not the type of x. If a conversation reaches a certain level of links.
#automatically generated text#Markov chains#Paul Graham#Python#Patrick Mooney#links#online#classes#Vision#fraction#America#phrase#conventions#deals#today#volumes#investors#publishers#require#results#Ajax#search#sup#startup#sites#deal#persecution#advice#startups
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f!reader - 18+ MDNI (briefly going down on you and then just him fucking you + praise…hhh need him so bad - wk: 0.5k)
childe is eager, almost impossibly so. eager for battle, for blood, for the way his heart lurches with a landed strike and beats loudly in its golden cage.
he’s especially eager, it would seem, tonight. with the way he yanks your clothes off, tearing a few seams too many (something to repair later, you think), the way he mouths at your cunt through the thin fabric separating him from your warmth.
the sharp, prolonged inhale from him is almost embarrassing, almost makes you cover your eyes to hide the heat staining your cheeks. you’d try, if you didn’t know him so well - there’s an eagerness to hear all your little sounds, to see your face twist and warp into pleasure, because of him. he’s making you feel this good, as his tongue travels a slow, tortuous path up your folds. he’s making you feel this good, as his lips curl and suck over your clit. every moan that drips from your throat is rewarded ten-fold, hot breath and his own low, vibrating sounds against your skin, his hips rutting into the mattress, not even seeking friction when they search desperately for more of you.
once you’re finally naked, shredded articles laying around the mattress in a heap, once he finally sinks into you and feels the sun washing over him, he finds himself eager once more: this time, for your praise.
“is that good?” he asks into the space above your collarbone, hot breath filling his lungs but left with no other option than to suck it in quickly, ravenously. the way his cock stretches you with each thrust only spurs him on, faster, harder. “you like that?”
when you nod, quickly, his teeth nip at the column of your neck.
“tell me, pretty.” hips slam into yours, skin and sweat and more, more, more. “tell me how good i make you feel.”
and you worry you can’t, can’t fill the ever-emptying hole inside him that needs a constant source of your love, your light. but you’ll try.
“so good,” you babble, words bubbling over your lips and into his. “so good, it’s so good. you’re so good.” you think your fingers are running through his hair; you think he smiles.
“yeah?”
“yeah.” and you think maybe you’re smiling too. “feels - ah - the best.”
a grin that’s all teeth; a thrust that has your back arching from the bed and further into him.
“never felt like this before, never felt so good.” and now, your fingers trace his cheekbones, and you wonder if you’ve ever looked at the sun with half as much adoration. “the best, ajax, you’re the best.”
at that, he whines, and fucks you harder. “it’s because nobody’s ever loved you like i do. right?”
“nobody.” sky-blue eyes meet yours, and you feel the question hiding behind the clouds. “i’ve never loved anyone like you.”
he lets the fire inside him burst when his thrusts pick up speed and lose their tempo altogether. lets you feel it in the boyish giggle that morphs into a moan of your name when he hears you whispering ‘i love you, i love you, i love you.’ eats up the words and your lips, hungry, aching, begging. swallows them with an eager tongue and smiles.
a/n: yearning for him in a way that’s soooo normal (i would pull the sun from the sky and hand it to him with burnt palms)
#quinn writing about ajax tartaglia childe? the crowd gasps :3#q writes#drabbles#childe tartaglia ajax#ajax#ajax x reader#tartaglia#tartaglia x reader#childe#childe x reader#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#ajax genshin impact#tartaglia genshin impact#childe genshin impact#genshin smut#childe smut#tartaglia smut
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Ajax listen,,,,listen to me Ajax-
Self Aware AU, where the cookies come to the player's/reader's world. Pick whichever characters you wanna include, I just need to see this 🙏
→ ❛Part of your world❜
→ Characters ; Longan Dragon Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie & Millennial Tree Cookie → Quote ; ❛❛If someone came to you and told you “One day you’ll have those who you love the most in the palm of your hand”, well… you never thought that’d become true, nor that it’d be a metaphor…❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons/Drabble → A/N ; This took me a whole ass night to make and 2500+ words to finish, I hope you like it /lh
Longan Dragon Cookie
“How quaint… to believe someone like you lives in such a… small place”
Having Longan Dragon in your home was… curious to say the least. Not something you expected, yet here you were, with a dragon looking at you as they squatted in your bedroom.
Longan would be hypercritical of the place you lived, noting things like “This looks cheap” or “Its far too small”
Despite that, Longan would be quite intrigued in your life, wanting to see how you worked or what you did, they’d follow you around when not sitting in your living room and meditating.
Nevertheless, they’re there for a reason, they’re with you for a reason, and they’ll make that reason known very, very soon.
It’d take Longan a few months, but eventually, they would come to sit by your side at the table, not sitting down on a chair but instead, sitting down by your side quite literally. They’d stare at you for long moments before finally leaning their head on your shoulder, the weight catching you off guard as you looked at them.
“... I’ll make sure you live like you deserve one of these days” They’d say, and in that moment, you understood why there had been so many disappearances of delinquents and robbers nearby…
If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…
One of the few favorite activities of Longan was to read, so much so, that you had to request books from the library more often than not, but with the way Longan was reading them… It had just been a few months, and yet this dragon had consumed almost all of your local library’s books. So, when they finished reading most of your books, they’d chose to write them. And they’d write about what they saw, about everything they had seen around them, everything they had seen in this new world, and in some sense, it was intriguing to see how a dragon explored the new world they were in, the little things that werent intriguing to you were greatly important to them, in a way that got you even more intrigued by how they saw you.
“... You want to know how I see you?” They’d ask.
You knew fully well that you shouldnt expect much, after all, this was Longan Dragon we were talking about, they werent a kind dragon, they saw cookies as lesser beings, and humans now by extensions, but as you asked them that question, they’d only smile and pat your head softly.
“You’re the reason Im here… Of course I would think highly of you”
A genuine smile, it made your heart flutter as they spoke, a hand going to cup your chin in it.
“You’re interesting, perhaps, one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in this world.”
Besides writing, they’d follow you around and take note of everything you’d do… And by night, they’d curl by your side, taking most of the bed as they allow you to take rest in their chest, as they allow you to take rest in their breaths while their hands thread on your hair.
Burning Spice Cookie
“How intriguing…! Never would I have expected your home to be so… so… erm…”
Another one who seems to heavily judge your house, but also, another one who appears in your home kneeling because it is so small compared to him.
Either way, he gets eased into the ambient quite easily, his search for entertainment leading him to see through everything and all the world has to offer.
Until he… gets bored, again, because your world isnt as different from his (and in some sense, it is… actually… more boring than his old world…)
So, he moves to the next thing closest to him for entertainment!
“Little one, come here”
He’d call forward to you once, looking at you with dark yet fiery eyes and an everlasting smile, though you knew this once it hid something, after all, despite him coming to your world for x or y reason, it involved you, it always involved you…
“Entertain me” Would be his words once you approached him, his smile becoming only more cryptic as you lifted an eyebrow at his voice. Entertain, him? In what sense or way would you be able to entertain someone akin to a god?
Seeming to sense your doubt, Burning Spice would only come and hold you from your shirt, lifting you up before staring at you and then…
“Hahahah, you should’ve looked at your face, you really are an interesting one!”
If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…
Besides seeking something for entertainment, Burning spice is in some sense able to somewhat pass through the crowd, and by that I mean he can somewhat pass as just a very tall human. Nonetheless, between choosing to hit the gym and sending you pictures, he’ll also follow you around, finding even the most monotonous tasks fairly entertaining if it has you in it. Its a weird combo, being outside with a dude in a hoodie and sweat pants following you around while doing groceries, or being in the metro and getting a fairly nice picture of him flexing for you. Burning spice is a menace…
“Aye, welcome home! I took care of some pesky people while you were gone… It was fun hearing their screams…”
…in far more ways than one.
Either way, you two also share a bed, its not like you have a choice with how clingy he can become when sleeping, pulling you in his arms in a heated hug (in the sense that he literally irradiates heat) while snoring loudly, you’ve gotten complaints from neighbors (if you live in an apartment), but somehow… they’ve… they’ve quieted down recently… However, when you ask Burning Spice, he just laughs it off.
Shadow Milk Cookie
“Woowee, what do we have here, sweetheart?”
Not as judgemental of your home, no, for once someone isnt as focused on where you live but…
He is focused on you, looking at you up and down, before hitting his head on the roof of your room, ouch!
He spends most of the days following you around though, using his magic to stay hidden from most people, so much that people may find you crazy for seeing you talk to… nothing!
Either way, much like the others, he’s there for a reason…
“Why Im here?”
You asked Shadow Milk once, after a good few months, what the jester had come to do in your own home. In fact, it perplexed you so much that when you asked him, the feeling seemed to be shared. It was… intriguing to say the least, but he’d only smile before clasping his hands together and saying in a song-esque tune.
“Becuase you’re sooooooooooo interesting, darlin! Just look at you, how could I NOT come here with you?”
Truth to be told, he saw you as who you really were, in some sense he saw you as someone who didnt fall for lies easily, he saw you as someone who saw beyond that and you were… interesting. You were a shot in the dark, and he just had, to have you near.
“You’re so silly, darlin, sososososo silly” He’d add in, patting your head softly as you only smiled and blushed slightly, even while knowing his smile and gaze hid a million of thoughts, and a million of even more ideas.
If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…
When not reading around in your home, or following you to the library to read some books, he’d be looking over your shoulder, reading every single note, watching every single thing you do, it makes him curious, how someone so quaint has him wrapped around your finger. And yet, he cant help but smile at the idea of being just like that, wrapped around your finger in a sweet loving embrace.
He’d be the most romantic of the bunch, the one that makes it the most prominent that he’s there with you because he likes you, he dosent even hide it fully despite his jester-esque persona, he just cant hide it! So, when you ask him about what he was doing one day in the balcony of your apartment, he’d only turn and smile softly.
“Why, I'm recreating one of your world’s theatre plays!” He’d say, and you make a mental note to go to the theatre more often… “And you’ve come just in time, silly (y/n)! I need someone to play dearest Juliet!”
You add that it is a tragic love story, and he only brushes it off, adding in that “actors are actors, sweetheart, now come in and act!” so you do, and you have a fun time doing a monologue to a bunch of people who stay and watch, before claps fill the air.
And when time comes to bed, he’ll be the first to curl up in your bed, curl like a cat who welcomes you into his arms so sweetly, you feel the scent of milk, lactonic as it is, and for once you feel safe.
Timekeeper Cookie
“Well, look what we have here!”
To find Timekeeper in your home means to have done something either right or wrong. In your case, its right.
They’re very much curious about everything from the things you do on a daily basis to your home and how electronics work.
Still, and much like some others in this list, they become quickly bored about it, choosing to focus on you as main form of entertainment
Still, you can expect certain shenanigans to ensue.
It was late at night when it happened, just as you were playing when a portal opened and dragged you inside of it. You were scared shitless that much is true but, when you saw the person who dragged you in, you simply could sigh in slight annoyance.
“What? Cant I drag my favorite person in for some fun?” They’d say with that ever present smile, Timekeeper chuckling as she smiled widely at you, before noticing… “Oh, right, it is night where you’re from, guess I took you out at the wrong time!”
You huffed and yawned, before sitting up and looking at your phone… Right, it didnt exactly work when in time rifts, but then again that raised the question, why did they bring you here to begin with? As if being presented with the question loud and clear, they’d clear her throat and speak yet again.
“I simply wanted to see you, nothing wrong with that now?” They’d say quite mischievously, picking you up and bringing you into her lap “Go on, lets- Hm?”
You’d fall asleep into her arms as soon as she picked you up, your calm quiet face being shown to her as you were held in her arms. Well, guess fun had to wait.
If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…
Much like the others, they also enjoy reading, however, they focus on reading about engineering and mechanics, more so about the mechanics of your world to see if they’re any different from the ones of her world. To say there isnt much difference is but an understatement, there was a hefty amount of difference counting the technology from the TBD was far more advanced, but, even then, you’d be able to get the timekeeper intrigued by the nature of your world.
“Tell me more about your world, c’mon!” They’d ask one day, floating from a time rift as you cooked dinner.
Unlike the others Timekeeper wasnt keen on staying in one place, still finding comfort in being inside time rifts most of the time, though they still visited you more often than not, more often than other places. Seeing them you’d ask her what she wanted to know, to which she’d hum before saying.
“Anything, I dont really find it entertaining seeing it myself—Explain your world to me yourself, doll!”
So when night comes after a long day chatting, it is you who clings to her softly, as she watches you sleep cozily by her side. She smiles and pats your head, because as much as she’d prefer to fade into a time rift, she knows she cant let you go so easily, no. Not when you finally showed her happiness.
“Interesting, this place is… quite interesting…”
Seeing someone as tall as Millennial Tree in your home is but a piece of the whole puzzle. You are dumbfounded but in some sense, seeing them kneel to greet you is almost laughable.
He’s big, very tall and a gentle giant overall, and it shows when he holds your hand and tells you that your world is interesting to him.
He’s just as curious as everyone else, looking at everything, looking at everyone, he’s curious about you, curious about your world, yet he knows it’d be dangerous to leave on his own.
So, you take him to the forest, planing on leaving him go but…
“I dont want to leave you alone…”
He’d speak with conviction, looking at you as your eyes widened and your face dropped. Just what you feared would happen. He’d hold your hands together, looking at you with some concern before smiling softly, kissing both of your palms.
“I came here for a reason, that much I know, and I know that reason is within you… Allow me to stay by your side, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it worth it.”
You have no power in you to say no, to turn down his offer after his gentle and sweet words, that day you realized that perhaps he did come to your world for a reason, a world so clad in evil and pain…
If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…
When not travelling nor reading, he’s at home with you, cooking or revisiting each place he has gone to to help. He’s become… a sort of Messiah, you cant help it, become public enemy no.1 to some, and a savior to others, it truly depended on who you were asking. Your gaze would follow his as he trailed on a book you both were reading before he’d lean and kiss your forehead, things were… easy, happy with him there… You felt much happier.
“Is something the matter, sapling?” He’d ask, his gentleness carrying over to his voice as he hummed at your words saying it was nothing, but he knew better, still, he wouldnt push. “Are you perhaps tired?”
You pouted slightly before nodding, yes, you were quite tired, but you didnt want to admit to it. Still, he’d nod before moving the book to the side and lifting you into his arms. He’d carry you to your shared bedroom, careful on his way there before setting you on the bed with him, cozily, softly, carrying you to him as he pressed his lips on your forehead and your body to his.
“Sleep well, sunshine” He’d say, brushing hairs off your face before speaking again “Thank you for accepting me into your world…”
Honestly, how could you not at this point? With that thought in your head… You fell asleep.
#🌙;stellar headcanons#🌙;moonlit dreams#⭐; Self Aware AU#longan dragon cookie x reader#burning spice cookie x reader#shadow milk cookie x reader#timekeeper cookie x reader#millennial tree cookie x reader#cookie run x reader#cookie run kingdom x reader#crk x reader#cookie run ovenbreak x reader#crob x reader
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cold freezing night | various yandere! fatui harbingers x reader
summary: they find you on the verge of death after being attacked by a monster.
content warning: mentions of blood
CAPITANO
the captain seldom took different routes to his manor.
but, on a night like this - he wanted to enjoy the scenery which he didn't do much.
a branch cracked underneath his boot, and a bird from a nearby tree flew off. the captain paid no might to the fleeing bird, not when he heard monsters nearby, accompanied by the sound of... ragged breaths and soft cries.
the captain's hand came near the hilt of his sword.
he was cautious as he approached the sound. when he reached the sight, he saw four hilichurls and you - he had seen you around.
if he remembers right, you had once cleaned his bloodied sword for him after he returned from a mission.
he hadn't forgotten about you, he doubted he ever would.
as the captain slaughtered the hilichurls, he did so with you in mind. in his mind, he thought of paying back your kindness by wrapping you in his coat and taking you somewhere to recover.
he tucked his sword away. he walked past the carnage he had created and stopped at your side.
you were no longer crying. kneeling to your side the captain removed his coat and set it over your shoulders before lifting you into his arms.
he held you as if you were the most valuable thing to him.
on the walk home, the captain couldn't keep his eyes off of you and your trembling form. he had idly wondered if you'd accept his help without offering to pay him back. you didn't seem like the type.
perhaps he'd ask you to stay - to keep him company until you were fully recovered.
CHILDE
on days like this, childe went out looking for a fight.
not just any fight, though, a fight with a worthy opponent - an opponent that could give him a run for his money.
childe had picked fights with a few monsters, but nothing worth his while. just cryo slimes and maybe the odd hilichurl.
that was until he heard the tell-tale sound of a ruinguard stomping around in these desolate woods.
finally! a fight worth searching for.
childe's mind was fuzzy as he ran at the ruinguard - he only thought about the fight and cherished the thrill he felt in that moment!
still, he'd fought ruinguards before - he knew their weak spots so the fight wasn't exactly a fight.
childe's shoulders slumped as he watched the ruinguard drop, already defeated. "huh, no fun."
childe saw something in the snow. was it a coat left by someone? he walked over to it, nudging it with the tip of his foot. it was a human, a weak one at that.
he turned you over to lie on your back and that's when he noticed you. his crush from a few years back!
oh, he had missed you so much when you and your family left snezhnaya. you had gotten away back then, but, not this time.
picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder, ajax was taking you home - he hoped you liked it since you never got to visit his house all those years ago. you were always so scared of him, always avoiding him.
well, now was the time to make up for all the lost time, and boy, oh boy, was he going to cherish it!
DOTTORE
dottore had gone out for one thing and one thing, only.
to observe the flowers that bloomed in snezhnaya. they were different, beautiful but oh so delicate.
they couldn't survive indoors, not for even a day. this had been dottore's recent interest.
while out in the cold forest, dottore was kneeling beside one of those beautiful white flowers.
dottore plucked the flower and placed it into a bag full of snow - would this preserve it for longer?
a stick snapped.
dottore glanced over his shoulder, and saw something in a bush behind him.
he sighed, tucking the bagged flower away, and turned to approach the bush. nudging it open, hilichurl stumbled out before dropping to the ground, dead.
dottore took a step back, glaring. he nudged the hilichurl with the tip of his boot before pushing the bush open once more - firstly, there was someone unconscious but most likely dead lying in the snow, secondly, there was a cryo lawchurl.
dottore had no interest in fighting the beast but had some interest in your body. he could run some experiments on it.
he stepped through the bush and grabbed your hand, dragging your body away from the lawchurl that seemed to be feeding on a hilichurl. dottore grinned, he'd never seen something like that before.
dottore crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you - your lips tinted blue and snow covering your eyelashes. you looked familiar.
not that it mattered, you were long gone.
crouching down, he picked the snow off of your eyelashes - you looked so familiar it was pestering him.
perhaps you were from the akademiya. (y/n), was it? you were smart, too smart even. smart enough to evade him, smart enough to escape him.
he chuckled, but not smart enough to survive a lawchurl attack...
dottore felt a weak breath come from your mouth.
oh. so you were still breathing?
how disappointing, dottore thought, before standing and lifting you from the ground. well, you were resilient; you could be of some use to him, not to mention that the two of you had much history together.
him chasing you around and you evading him, it was a shame back then.
perhaps now he could put your pretty mind to use.
PANTALONE
pantalone was never fond of the sight of blood.
so, why did he feel so drawn to the gory sight before him? right at the front gate of his manor, you were there.
gripping the gate bar, as if you were trying to escape whatever had attacked you. pantalone tilted his head at the sight.
it was a horrid sight, truly.
but, he pitied you. you shouldn't have been alone so late at night - you shouldn't have left him either.
walking towards the gate, he opened it, watching you slum further to the ground.
perhaps if you were a bit smarter, this wouldn't have happened.
pantalone kneeled to your side, rolling you over to lie on your back. he saw your chest ever so slightly rise and fall and felt relief.
"oh, (y/n), you must be in so much pain," pantalone typically wouldn't do this; he wouldn't want to risk dirtying his clothes, but for you, he would.
he lifted you into his arms, walked you back into his manor, and laid you down on the couch. gosh, your blood was everywhere.
he seated himself at your side, running a bloodied hand across your cheek.
the blood would probably never go away, it would always be there, always reminding him of this sight.
a sight that he was already desperate to forget.
#yandere x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere#yandere scenarios#capitano#capitano x reader#yandere capitano x reader#yandere capitano#childe x reader#yandere childe#yandere childe x reader#childe#dottore#yandere dottore#yandere dottore x reader#dottore x reader#pantalone#yandere pantalone x reader#yandere pantalone#pantalone x reader
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la maledizione degli Addams²
Pairing: wednesday Addams X reader
Wednesday had been avoiding you, deliberately ignoring the itch she felt every time you were near, focusing solely on her investigation. Though it pained her to avoid the deep connection with her soulmate, her determination to solve the mysteries surrounding her took precedence over any emotion. Her investigations had paid off: she had discovered a secret library that led her to the book with the missing page about Rowan (luckily after the Poe Cup), and she had followed her leads into the woods during Outreach Day, finding the lair of the monster and planning to visit it with Eugene.
But unfortunately Enid had dragged her to the Raven.
Wednesday had chosen to use Tyler as a scapegoat. The normal boy, attracted to her, represented a useful resource for her goals. She knew she could exploit his interest to focus on her investigations while distancing herself from Galpin.
But when she saw Eugene with his backpack ready for their excursion, a pressure tightened in her chest. The disappointment on Eugene’s face was palpable, an expression that struck Wednesday in an unexpected way.
"Don’t go into the woods," she told him, her black eyes fixed on him with an intensity that sent chills down his spine.
"We'll go after the party. Stay close" she added.
At the entrance to the ballroom, the itch she had felt grew more intense. Without thinking her eyes began to search for you among the crowd. There you were. A burning fire ignited inside her and in an involuntary gesture she clenched her jaw, producing a crack that revealed her growing frustration. The sight of Yoko, your dance partner, only fueled her irritation.
Damn curse.
The Addams curse that she had always considered both a blessing and a burden now amplified her feelings, making each moment even more painful.
The image of Y/N laughing and enjoying herself with Yoko struck her like a blow to the heart. A pang of pain spread through her chest as if her soul was being torn apart. Every smile from Y/N, every glance exchanged with Yoko felt like a mortal wound.
Wednesday found herself caught in a tearing conflict: on one side was her untamed nature pushing her to keep her distance; on the other an overwhelming desire to get closer, to reconnect with you even if it meant facing vulnerability.
Her gaze involuntarily shifted to Yoko.
The vampire with her charming smile and relaxed demeanor only amplified Wednesday's frustration.
"Damn it," she thought as her hands tightened around Tyler's arm. She wanted to run away but she knew she couldn’t. Her soulmate was there and despite everything, the urge to move closer was undeniable.
Yoko chuckled softly as she noticed how sparks were crackling around your body. You could control lightning. Likely due to the intensity of Wednesday’s gaze, Y/N turned away from Yoko and directed her eyes in Wednesday's direction. By some twist of fate, you were the only two girls in the entire school wearing black dresses at a party where white was the required attire.
Enid's figure suddenly appeared at the entrance, blocking Wednesday’s view of you.
Damn.
"Wednesday! Oh my God, you look amazing!" the blonde exclaimed, bubbling with excitement. Enid was wearing a beautiful white dress with a touch of purple makeup on her face.
Strange.
Wednesday’s gaze shifted to the girl’s date.
"Strange choice for your date," she murmured in a flat voice. Her eyes shot a cold glare at the mayor's son, the leader of the trio that had tried to attack her twice.
The boy shuddered.
"Oh... he came to make his ex jealous, and I wanted to make Ajax jealous," Enid said with a shrug.
Her eyes darted to Tyler.
"Tyler! Are you Wednesday's date?" she asked in surprise, her blue eyes studying her roommate with intensity. "Yeah," the normal boy scratched his head, clearly embarrassed.
"I’m going to get a drink," the curly-haired boy added, leaving her alone with Enid.
"You know, I thought you’d come with Y/N," the blonde said casually, "You two... I don’t know... have great chemistry," she added with a small smile.
A shiver ran down Wednesday’s spine at the mention of your name.
"It seems to me she's having fun with Yoko," Addams murmured with venom, her eyes scanning toward your figure.
Despite the discomfort that enveloped her Wednesday launched into the dance. Her movements were distinct, rigid yet fluid, her hands tracing sinuous precise gestures, her steps seemingly defying the rhythm of the music itself. But during one of those turns her hand accidentally brushed against another’s.
As soon as the fingers touched a jolt of energy shot through her body like thousands of electric shocks sliding across her skin, like invisible spiders crawling in her stomach leaving her paralyzed for a moment. Her breath caught in her throat and her head tilted back in an almost unnatural movement, her eyes wide open toward the ceiling.
A vision struck her with the force of lightning.
The world shattered around her, the party lights vanishing and transforming into blinding flashes. Screams and distant voices echoed in her ears overlapping in an indistinguishable chaos. Among the flashes she glimpsed Crackstone, his menacing figure looming like an impending shadow. Then, like a distorted image, a wedding: black dahlias, a black dress, hands united in an eternal bond all enveloped in a disturbing aura.
Wednesday's body was as rigid as a tightly drawn string, her hands stiff by her sides, every muscle tensed under her pale skin. Her face was twisted in an expression of pure terror as her breath came out in ragged gasps.
And then, everything faded.
The vision dissolved leaving her shaken and trembling, her head still thrown back. Slowly, she tilted forward again as her eyes refocused on the ballroom now again wrapped in the dim lights and chaotic movements of their schoolmates. But the sensation of disorientation persisted, like an echo of the vision that still throbbed in her temples.
She felt something warm on her shoulders and realized it was your hands, steady and sure, supporting her. You had moved closer during her moment of weakness, your Y/C eyes fixed on her with a mixture of concern and alarm. Your expression was tense, your breath quick.
The curse.
Her body seemed unresponsive for a moment, her legs still unsteady. She felt a strange, dark current flowing between the two of you, as if physical contact had been the catalyst for a force that had awakened within her.
"Are you okay? It looked like a vision," you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern. Your tone was low, meant only for her, as you tried to understand what had happened.
Wednesday took a deep breath trying to regain control over the turmoil inside her, but she clearly felt the effects of the curse coursing through her veins. An invisible tension tightened her chest, pulling her forward, almost as if she were compelled to move closer to you. She took a step forward closing the distance between you and her gaze locked determinedly onto yours.
"Yes... I was dancing with Tyler... then I had a vision," Wednesday said in a flat tone, her dark eyes tracing every detail of your face trying to grasp something she couldn’t quite understand.
"Tyler left," you responded, your voice breaking slightly as if admitting that truth cost you more than you wanted to show. Then you clenched your jaw, your expression hardening and in that moment Wednesday swore she saw a flash behind your irises, a reflection that seemed to conceal a storm.
A question crossed her mind like lightning: were you jealous?
Without thinking Wednesday’s hands moved sliding from your shoulders to encircle your neck. The skin beneath her fingers was warm and she felt a shiver that shook her from within like a fire igniting in her chest and consuming her from the inside. She felt... overwhelmed, as if the tide of sensations enveloping her was pulling her underwater leaving her breathless. Her heart pounded in a way she had never experienced before, a frantic and unfamiliar rhythm that muddled her thoughts.
The itch that had overwhelmed her before was gone.
Instead a heat consumed her and pushed her closer to you, as if the simple touch of her hands on your skin was the only thing keeping her upright.
Maybe it's because we touched? she thought for a moment, her mind tangled between logic and instinct searching for an explanation.
"Wednesday, I..." you began, your voice hesitant, almost fearful, as if you were afraid of the reaction you might provoke.
At the mention of her name on your lips Wednesday barely stifled a moan, a low sound escaping from her throat and echoing deeply in her chest. It was as if the sound of her name spoken by you held a different weight, an intensity that made her bones vibrate and burned inside her. Every fiber of her being sensed that this was different, that there was something strange and unstoppable between the two of you, a force she couldn’t fully understand but could not ignore.
"Cara mia" Wednesday whispered, her words almost too intimate, laced with a subtle darkness that sent a shiver through you. Her hands around your neck tightened pulling you closer with a determined hungry strength.
Your cheeks flushed red, a blush that Wednesday watched with hungry eyes.
For a moment the world around you seems to disappear, dissolving into the silence that exists only between the heavy breaths that bind you together. Her mind is overtaken by a primal desire and all she wants is to taste your lips, to feel the warmth of your mouth on hers. She realizes that she wants to consume you whole as if that were the only way to quell the fire burning inside her, as if that were the only way to make you hers.
For the first time she understands what drove her parents toward each other with such intensity. Why Gomez could never stay away from Morticia, why every gesture between them seemed to almost defy the rules of propriety with their passion. But that thought blends with something else, a deep disgust for herself, for how quickly she has yielded to this impulse abandoning her rigidity and her ideals just because of a single touch from you.
Just as this internal struggle rages, a cold drop hits your cheek followed by another that slides down your nose tracing a scarlet path. The sensation of something wet and viscous on your face breaks the moment and when you look up, a red rain begins to fall, like blood pouring from the ceiling, staining your faces and clothes.
Chaos erupts around you.
The other students begin to scream, pushing against each other in a desperate attempt to escape the ballroom. Bodies collide and stumble in a frantic rush, slipping on the floor now covered in blood. The lights flicker on and off in a pulsing rhythm amplifying the panic.
But you remain still, trapped under Wednesday's gaze, her lips curling into a wicked smile. The urge to run her tongue along your cheek to taste you mixed with the blood overwhelms her.
Suddenly a body crashes into her, shoving her violently to the side. Wednesday whirls around, muscles tense, fists clenched ready to retaliate against the intruder. But right in that moment her gaze goes lank and another vision seizes her, ragging her into a spiral of confused and painful images.
She sees red boots stepping on the ground, staining themselves with the dark red that flows like a river. And then a familiar face distorted by the pain caused by the beast's attack:
Eugene.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x fem!reader#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday x you#wednesday addams x you#jenna marie ortega#wednesday fanfic#wednesday imagine#raven#wednesday addams x female reader#wednesday addams
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Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 6 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader
Warnings: none
Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.
Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist
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I blink tiredly and prop my chin up on my hand, trying to pay attention to Thornhill who’s babbling on about some carnivorous plant.
The memory of Rowan’s screams kept me up most of the night.
I still can't believe what actually happened. Throughout the night I heard a search party go through the woods, with the dogs whining and barking and officers shouting orders every now and then, but whether they found Rowan or not, I have no idea.
I knew there were rumors about this supposed monster roaming around lately, but I thought it was just a bear or something. But what I saw yesterday despite how comically grotesque and weird it looked scared the shit out of me.
The classroom door opens right as Miss Thornhill is about to feed a dead mouse to one of her plants which is already reaching its greenish tentacles for it.
A police deputy I've seen around Jericho before pokes her head inside and looks around making everyone shut up and stare curiously as she points at me.
I stiffen and feel Ajax and Enid who are sitting next to me shoot me questioning looks.
“L/N please come with me,” she says and I look at Thornhill for permission which she gives with a nod slightly wide-eyed.
I get out of my seat avoiding everyone's eyes even Enid and Ajax’s and hurry toward the door.
Deputy Santiago, as I read on her little name plate, closes the door behind me and tilts her head before starting to walk, silently telling me to follow her.
I do, hearing Thornhill's class continue all the way until we make it to Weems’ office where Sheriff Galpin Weems and Wednesday are already waiting for us. Deputy Santiago ushers me inside before closing the door again, choosing to stay outside herself.
“What’s going on?” I ask, “Has Rowan’s body been found?”
I see a muscle twitch in Weems’ jaw but she stays silent. Wednesday also looks displeased for some reason, her eyes harder than usual, and when Sheriff Galpin answers I know why.
“No, we haven’t found a body as I’ve already told Miss Addams here.”
“What?” My eyes dart between Wednesday Galpin and Weems. “That can’t be. We saw I saw…” I trail off, feeling a shiver run down my back at the memory of the gurgling sound Rowan made when he was literally gutted by the monster.
“Yeah well we didn’t find anything. No blood, no footprints, no sign of a struggle. Nothing. Our search party looked all night,” he says, sounding almost annoyed.
“Well your search party must have left their seeing-eye dogs at home,” Wednesday deadpans and were it not for the circumstances I’d actually snort at that.
Weems glares at her while I just stand there absolutely speechless.
I know what I saw, so how did they not find anything
As if reading my mind Wednesday goes on, “We saw that monster kill Rowan right in front of us. Right?”
She looks at me expectantly and I’m about to nod, but then I catch Weems’ eye over her shoulder. She shakes her head subtly.
Don’t cause any trouble. Stay under the radar.
I swallow thickly. “I-I’m not sure what I saw to be honest,” I lie which makes Wednesday’s face crumble with disbelief for a second before it hardens again.
She straightens up and goes to say something, probably accusing me of lying, but then Weems speaks up. “My guess is Rowan ran away. An alert has been put out and I’ve contacted his family but they haven’t heard from him yet”
Wednesday keeps her piercing eyes on me a little longer and I can tell there’s a lot of emotion brewing underneath the surface, but then she turns to Weems and snarks, “Maybe that’s because dead people are notoriously bad at returning calls.”
Sheriff Galpin sighs and sinks into one of the leather chairs in front of Weems’ desk, taking off his hat and running a hand down his face. “What were you two doing out in the woods with him?”
Wednesday neatly folds her hands in front of her and answers evenly. “I heard a noise in the forest and went to go investigate. That’s when I stumbled upon the attack.”
My eyebrow quirks slightly because that’s not what happened at all. Well, maybe the first part is true, but definitely not the second.
I quickly school my features back to neutral though when Galpin looks at me expectantly. “I saw Wednesday leave the fairgrounds and wanted to make sure she didn’t get lost so I followed her,” is all I say which is close enough to the truth and the story I told Wednesday.
Galpin looks back at Wednesday, seeing that I’m not going to elaborate and Wednesday is obviously the more vocal one out of the two of us. “And then what happened?”
“Then we ran into Bianca Barclay and told her to go for help. Next thing I remember I was waking in my dorm,” she says and even though that last part sounds unbelievable I believe it because I also can’t really remember what happened after telling Bianca what happened. It's all a blur, and the only thing I can vaguely remember is the bus ride back to school with the others. I’m sure Wednesday was also occupied with whatever happened between her and Rowan before I interfered.
“Okay, so just to be clear this monster wasn’t a bear or something?” Galpin asks.
Almost bored now, Wednesday stares at him, her hands still neatly folded in front of her. “I’ve hibernated with grizzlies. I know the difference”
Of course she did, I think, but I don’t speak up.
Weems seems to think this is a good place to end things. She puts her hands on her desk and gets to her feet. “Thank you Sheriff. I think Miss Addams is done now. And of course Y/N, too”
I dip my chin in acknowledgment and turn to leave, but then Wednesday speaks up again. “Actually I would like to speak to Sheriff Galpin. Alone.”
Weems narrows her eyes her gaze briefly meeting mine before she looks back at Wednesday and the Sheriff who looks mildly intrigued by Wednesday’s request. “I’m not sure I can allow that.”
Galpin puts his hat back on and crosses his arms, going on about how he could just take Wednesday to the station with him and get a formal statement, which is what makes Weems ultimately agree to a private conversation between the two.
“Fine. You have five minutes and everything is off the record,” she says, stepping out from behind her desk and joining my side. “Play nice or I’ll call the mayor.”
Galpin tilts his head in understanding though there’s a challenging glint in his eyes.
“Come on Y/N,” Weems says, brushing past me, and I go to follow her but then Wednesday’s voice stops me.
“Y/N.”
I turn and meet her eye, biting the inside of my cheek. I know what she wants from me. She wants me to be honest and tell Galpin what I really saw now that Weems isn’t looming over us but I just can’t do it.
Not causing any trouble and staying under the radar is what I’ve been told repeatedly since getting here and I know if I don’t I’ll get found out and I’ll have to leave again and I just can’t do that. Not again.
I exhale shakily and ball my hands into loose fists at my side. “I-I have to get back to class.”
I know it’s a lame excuse because Wednesday should be in class too, but I don’t know what else to say.
A flicker of something unreadable flashes through Wednesday’s eyes and I feel a tiny spark of guilt blossom in the pit of my stomach for leaving her out to dry, but I just I can’t do this.
So I turn without another word and leave, wondering briefly why Weems isn’t outside the office when she just left a moment earlier.
Deputy Santiago is still there though and I nod at her, earning an acknowledging little smile before I make my way to my room.
I know I said I had class, but I know I just wouldn’t be able to concentrate anyway. And I don’t want Enid or Ajax asking any questions. They already did that on the ride back to school last night and earlier before class.
If I wasn’t unnerved before by what I witnessed last night, I sure am now. Because what does Galpin mean they didn’t find a body?
It’s all so confusing and messing with my head. And to make matters even worse, I know there’s no way in hell Wednesday is going to want to run away again now. Not if there’s a mystery to be solved which means I’m still in danger. I can just hope she’ll focus on the monster from now on and kind of forget about me, but I doubt that’s going to happen because I’m once again somehow in the middle of that too.
I spend the rest of the morning catching up on my schoolwork and actually studying in an attempt to distract myself. I get quite a big chunk of work done, finishing two essays and a presentation on vampires all while listening to some music.
After about two hours though, a knock breaks through the music and I set my pen down and get up, taking my headphones off and letting them rest around my neck.
I'm mentally still occupied by my next paper I just started on Thornhill's carnivorous plants, which is why I don't register who's at the door until I've actually opened it and my eyes land on Wednesday.
Thing is on her shoulder and lifts his index finger in greeting, which I return with an awkward wave myself.
I go to say hi too, but then Wednesday beats me to it. "Why did you lie to Weems and the Sheriff?"
Straight to the point, like always.
I go to reply, maybe come up with a believable lie, but then, much to my surprise, she actually brushes past me and enters my room unbidden.
I blink in surprise and close the door behind her before turning around to catch her taking in my room.
Her eyes wander over my desk, and the scattered papers on it. Then over my neatly made bed, the gray sheets folded and tucked under the mattress around the edges. Then, the small wooden corner bookshelf next to it, filled with dog-eared books and one wrinkled photograph I taped to it.
It's a little blurry, but you can clearly see a younger version of me in it, giving a little girl a piggyback ride.
Lara.
It's unmistakable that we're close, and I can see Wednesday focusing in on it, so I clear my throat which actually makes her start ever so slightly and then her eyes snap to me and her face hardens. "We both saw how that monster killed Rowan," she states matter of factly.
I avert my eyes. "I know."
"Then why did you lie?" she steps closer, her tone now lower, almost menacing, but I sense no anger beneath the veil she has over emotions. It's more like... disappointment?
I look back up to find her crossing her arms while Thing skedaddles around the room exploring, flipping through my books and climbing onto the window seat of the wide and arched window that allows for a view of the courtyard and the forest beyond the school grounds.
"I just..." I trail off and play with the hem of my uniform's sweater vest. "I can't get dragged into this, Wednesday."
"What are you talking about?"
"I mean, I have enough stuff going on as it is, I don't want to get involved," I say honestly and for a moment, I think Wednesday might actually accept that because her face softens just the slightest bit.
Then it hardens again though, and I see her grip on her upper arms tighten. "That is absurd. You just lied because you're Weems' little pet and she doesn't want anyone to get to the bottom of this, just like Galpin."
I clench my jaw and lessen the distance between us with a step, looming over her while she just looks up at me with defiant eyes. "I am not Weems' pet," I hiss through gritted teeth.
Unperturbed, Wednesday snaps back with, "Someone is trying to cover Rowan's murder up."
I eye her incredulously, bothered that she didn't say anything else about the pet thing, before taking a step back again when I realize I'm actually so close to her I can pick up on the smell of fresh linen that clings to her. "So?" I ask, irritated. "Murders get covered up all the time and if it means things will quiet down, I don't care. I don't want anything to do with this. You should honestly—"
"I saw Rowan earlier."
That makes my mouth snap shut before an unbidden, "Excuse me?" escapes me.
This time Wednesday takes a step forward and I try to ignore the way my pendant heats up at the proximity. "Right after you left, Deputy Santiago opened the door and there he was."
What. The. Fuck.
"Now, I don't know how that's possible because you and I both know what we saw which makes me believe one of two things. Either, we're both simultaneously losing our minds, which is highly unlikely and honestly not as enjoyable as I hoped it would be. Or the person I saw wasn't actually Rowan, which seems like the more plausible of the two options, but once again begs the question, who would go to such lengths to cover it up, and why."
"I... don't know, and I honestly don't want to know either," I say, which makes her let out a sharp exhale. Her eyes dart between mine, frustrated and clearly searching for something.
"Fine," she says after a moment, then lets her bag fall off her shoulder and drop to the floor.
I frown and glance at it, only to realize it's actually my bag, the one I left in Thornhill's class when Deputy Santiago came to get me.
Enid must have taken it to her room with her, which is probably where Wednesday found it. She must have grabbed it and brought it to me so she would have an excuse to come see me.
"Thing."
The hand stops looking out of the window and jumps off the window seat, scrambling to Wednesday's side.
She turns to leave, bubbling with irritation and frustration underneath her mask of calm indifference. But then she stops when my necklace pulses gold underneath my sweater vest and shirt. It's barely visible through all the fabric, but Wednesday sees it and freezes, her eyes zeroing in on it.
I raise my hand defensively and clutch it through the fabric, hating how the curiosity I saw in Wednesday's eyes after she threw her knife at me sparks up again.
She doesn't say anything. She just meets my eyes again, then they flick to her knife, perched on my desk beside my laptop, before she finally turns and leaves with Thing on her heels.
He taps a goodbye on the door before slipping out, but I don't bother to return it, feeling my knees weaken slightly.
Why is this stupid pendant acting up the whole time?
I have half a mind to take it off right then and there, but I don't have the heart to do it. The fear of losing it is too great.
I've had it since I was dropped off at the orphanage as a baby. Not once in my life have I taken it off because it reminds me that I came from somewhere--that I'm not just another orphan.
I've also known it's somehow connected to my powers since I discovered them. But until Wednesday showed up, it has never acted like this before. Which reminds me I should really go and check out that book Weems hid in the Nightshades' library.
I never actually read it completely. She showed it to me once, but it overwhelmed me so much I couldn't finish it. I'd just been dumped at Nevermore, but now I really need some answers.
So I grab one of my books off the shelf next to my bed and pull out the small little note I wrote down after Weems gave me a riddle-like description of where to find the book in the library.
Why she couldn't just tell me I don't know. Maybe she did and I can't remember. I just remember writing down this riddle in a haze after I learned about what I am.
Seek where silence is etched in stone And light bends wrong when left alone What you search for is out of sight Until you ask the dark for light
I remember she said something about only being able to retrieve it at night and it's only half past twelve now, so I tuck the piece of paper into my pocket before leaving the room to go and find Enid.
She's been dying to talk to me since this morning, and it's lunchtime now, so even though I don't want to talk about Rowan and the rumors that have already spread around the school because of Bianca, I do crave her company. Her energy, although a bit much sometimes, always manages to make me feel better.
Also, she's got the Poe Cup coming up tomorrow, and I actually want to be there for her while she spirals about Bianca probably winning again.
I've already been roped into helping paint the canoe last year, and I can see that happening again this year, but I don't mind. Not only because it's actually kind of fun, but because I just know Wednesday won't come near me there.
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This is around 3k words. The last part was like 1.7k, so what are we feeling, people? Is this long enough or do you want even longer chapters?
Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy @mamas-evil-hag @theallseer97 @hellenheaven
#x reader#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams#wednesday series#wednesday netflix
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EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words
when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.
tags and warnings ✧ fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3
The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.
The fae are here.
They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold.
The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.
A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash.
But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.
You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.
Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.
The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar.
It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.
A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.
Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.
Then the first scream rips through the night.
You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.
Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong.
You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?
As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.
You will not let the fae take you.
Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.
Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.
Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.
With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.
“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.
You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.
He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.
It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”
“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.
He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow.
Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”
You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.
Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.
He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.
The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.
You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.
When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.
He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.
You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.
“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”
Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”
Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.
He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.
“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours.
He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.
“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”
His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”
And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.
Ajax stumbles backward.
You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-
Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.
You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.
The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.
“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.
Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.
Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.
As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life.
“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.
“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.
He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”
It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.
Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?
He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.
His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.
As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.
Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”
note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).
this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:
#childe x reader#ajax x reader#tartaglia x reader#genshin x reader#reader insert#genshin impact x reader#childe x you#posts this and goes to bed so i don't have to look any of you in the eyes GOODNIGHT#my writing#my writing: fic#fanfic: genshin#fanfic: tartaglia#tw: suggestive#<- just in case#my writing: easy on the eyes easier to hate
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