#childe fic

[mitsies]

❊ shootin' hoops! - childe . . ajax can't get enough of you. meanwhile, you've definetely had it with him.

ajax is 19 when he falls in love with you.

he meets you in his second year of college, in a stupid, annoying, lame sociology class which he's only in because it's a requirement to his major. why else would he be in a dank room at 8 in the morning? oh, he hates it. the class is slow-paced. his professor is even slower. an old, little man. ajax bets that he could bench his weight. and maybe a little more than that, too, without breaking a sweat.

the class sucks, and it's not even hard, and he would probably skip every single one and pass with a hundred and ten percent. and he really, really considers this course of action, too. until, he sees you in the back of the classroom. he doesn't think he's seen you before. he'd remember if he did.

wow, you look pretty. wow, you're cool. and wow, maybe he'll stick around for the lecture tomorrow after all. ajax grins to himself. and maybe he'll bench his professor, too, if you'd think that was cool. would that make him look strong, and show off his muscles? then he might really try.

after the class lets out (which takes light years, he's convinced) he makes a beeline to where you're packing up your notebook and stationary. "lame class, huh?"

you turn at his words, eyes wide as you take him in. ajax smiles with his teeth, and he can imagine all the girls and guys in the class swooning, he can practically hear their thoughts; 'oh, who's that cute guy? his dimples are so adorable! oh, wow, i should ask his number. he looks like he would be the star player of our college's basketball team! so muscular, and cool!'

and if they're all thinking that, oh, he can't even conceptualise what you must be thinking. he feels butterflies, and a little dizzy, and a lot anxious— but in a cool way, of course— when you open your mouth to respond.

"i thought it was cool, actually."

he's breathless for a second because wow, woah, oh god, your voice is just as nice— no, it's better, than he'd imagined it. and then he registers what you'd just said and it takes everything in him to stay composed as his brain short-circuits looking for something to say in response. so-long to his ingenious plan of bonding over mutual hatred of your professor. hm. he's kind of backed himself in a corner. oh, well, it seems like he'll have to rely on his massive charm to get him through to you. not a problem!

"really? you've got awful taste."

your face sours. his heart thunders— oh, you're so, so cute. he likes it when you look at him like that. actually, he likes it when you look at him in general. he likes the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you're irritated. the way you look like you've tasted something bitter makes him think— would your lips taste sour, too? like lemons, and limes? like biting into a cardamom pod?

before he can think about it too much, you speak again, and he's entranced— again. "just my thoughts."

"well clearly, you don't think much."

you blink at him. your eyelashes frame your eyes so nicely, too. he wonders if there's a colour that encapsulates the shade of them. ajax thinks that your eyes are like the rest of you— indescribable. and then you scoff, and walk away with your bag slung over a shoulder, and he can't wait to see you tomorrow.

three weeks go by. ajax doesn't think he could be more in love.

he's showed up to sociology every single day, just for the sake of seeing you. lighting up like a match the second you show up in the doorframe, and going out in a similar fashion once you're gone. he relishes every single second in your company. he carves every half-smile and every grimace, and every time you purse your lips in confusion and every time you nod along to the professor when you understand. oh, he's in love. and it's bad. it's so bad.

"don't tell me you're actually doing the extra credit work," he says, staring at open laptop on your desk. it's work time, and while ajax could hypothetically leave, you're staying, so he's staying too.

you glance up at him. lord knows how you've put up with him for so long. he's annoying, he's bothersome, he does not leave you alone, not for a second. the only time he sees you is sociology so he's got to make the most of it. "i've got nothing better to do, ajax."

oh, he loves, loves, loves it when he says your name. it might be his favourite sound in the world. "you could leave. it's a free class."

you raise a brow— "you could leave too."

"i could. but what'd you do without me?"

you laugh the littlest bit, and he feels a dozen times lighter. maybe your laugh is actually his favourite sound, he can't decide. "probably be a lot more productive."

he likes what you have. he likes this friendship-ish kind of thing. he likes that you only hate him sometimes, and that you can stand to be around him other times. that's not to say he's satisfied. oh, not even close. 3 weeks were enough for ajax to imagine it— a lifetime. he imagines holding your hand at graduation. and he imagines movie nights turned sleepovers, and he imagines what colours you'd choose for the bedsheets of your first house together. he imagines lists of names. he imagines forever. but this is a good start. you're 50-50 now, he's just got to work on that hundred percent.

and, in his opinion, 3 weeks is a long, long time. that's 7 whole days of 24 whole hours. and only god knows how many minutes are in those hours. way too many, he thinks. he's smart enough to know that good things take time, but he doesn't think that he can be only your classmate-sometimes-friend for any longer. he wants more. needs it.

you speak before he can reply, "you really have nothing to be working on?"

he probably does. a lot of business homework, something math related undoubtedly. but that wouldn't take him too long. so he opens his mouth to say as much when he remembers— he likely wouldn't have time later tonight. oh, but he's already not been doing his work— would it be embarrassing to start now? would you think he's stupid? he's so cool, and he'd hate if you didn't agree. in any other situation, he'd pop open his notebooks and get to work. but you make him all conscious, and nervous, and hot in the face. and how long has it been since you asked? he should probably respond. you stare expectantly and he feels warm all over, maybe almost as hot as he looks. (you'd agree. right? you would.)

"maybe just a few small things," he grins at you, "but i can squeeze them in before my game tonight."

you hum in response. "i forgot there was one tonight. against our rivals, right?"

his heart warms— you remembered who it was against. you might've forgotten about it in general, but you remembered it. that must be a good sign. oh, he's got this in the bag.

"yeah. at 7."

you smile at him. he thinks he might die right there. "well, good luck. i'm sure you'll do great."

he beams at the compliment, heart thundering like a caged bird between his ribs. compliments always meant more from you. he could probably definitely recall every single one you've ever spoken to him, if he tried. (and probably even if he didn't.)

ajax doesn't miss a beat, this time. "i'd probably do a lot better if you were there cheering me on."

he doesn't miss it. he doesn't miss the way your mouth twists a little bit in surprise, because this was really not what you were expecting. and he definitely, doesn't miss the way your eyes slide over to your hands, and your fingers which are suddenly all too fidgety. he's embarrassed you. his boyish grin grows tenfold. "don't tell me i've got you going shy on me."

you roll your eyes in mock annoyance, and he knows you well enough at this point to know you're trying to hide your bashfulness. "oh, you wish."

"you're right. i do."

you freeze. he doesn't think he could hide his joy at your embarrassment even if he wanted to, even if he tried. it's hard for ajax to pinpoint his favourite one of your feelings— he thinks you're cute all the time. he thinks it's funny when you're disgusted, or annoyed. he thinks you're adorable when you're happy, and especially so when you're sleepy. but he's beginning to suspect that he's especially fond of you when you're flustered like this.

the professor speaks. ajax's mood is instantly a little more sour because god, even the man's voice is slow and boring. the free class was officially dismissed, and students were free to go. under any other circumstances, ajax would be happy about this. but he really does have to go. he wishes you could come with him. he wishes you could come with him everywhere, really.

"are you serious?"

your question catches him off guard. you're looking at him again, with those pretty eyes, and you have a familiar expression on— it's one he recognises as confusion. you're confused. he softens, more than he thought possible. it takes everything in him to resist pressing a kiss to the apple of your cheek, the crease of your furrowed brows, the corner of your lip where an unconscious pout makes itself known. and he realises he might've been unclear with his advances. so he meets your eyes and says, "of course i am. i'm serious about you if you are about me, yeah?"

it's some kind of consent, or acknowledgment. that what you both have can and probably will evolve. you're smart enough to know that he knows, and he's smart enough to know that you know. and you nod softly, and smile like flower petals, and he decides he'll never get over you. he'll never need another.

"i'll see if i can go tonight. but if not, i'll text you."

he thinks he's the happiest person alive. he could kiss you right then, right there, but your wrinkly old dustbag of a professor is still in the room and he won't entertain the geezer. "i'll see you."

he doesn't see you until the final quarter of the game, but you've been there the whole time.

his team is winning, of course, because they have him, but he's been out of it all game. any moment he can, he's scanning the stands with a watchful eye. it's one of the biggest games of the season. he knows he should be laser-focused, but he's not and it's all your fault. there must be hundreds of faces pressed together and he can't seem to find yours. until he does.

you're closer to the ground than he thought you'd be. hiding in plain sight. and when he sees you, he swears he might start floating. there are flowers in his chest, blooming an ache deep inside. something so disgustingly sweet, so addictingly sickening is awoken at the sight of you in his team's colour. he thinks you'd look beautiful in his spare jersey. he smiles, and it's all teeth. a vicious kind of adrenaline fills him as the next play is called to begin. he thinks he'll give it to you after he wins.

and wins he does. with flying colours, really— the other team didn't really stand a chance to begin with, not as soon as he saw you there cheering him on. his teammates flock to him like sheep, piling on him and shouting things he can't really hear over the general public's applause of the home team's victory. and everything is happening; his coach is slapping his back, his teammate is dragging him somewhere, someone's handing him water, people are screaming his name, yelling about his winning shot, and all he hears is his breathing, and all he sees is you, standing with your hands clasped and lips pressed together in a smile. all he sees is you, so you're the first person he runs to.

since you're in the first stand to the bottom, it's easy for him to clear the guard rail and get to your side. someone in the background shouts his name. he doesn't care. the people who were previously next to you are shoved aside— he doesn't care at all. he's right there with you.

"you came," his breath comes raspy, dry. "you came to see me."

you shrug nervously, "i guess i did."

so he kisses you. ajax is 19 when he falls in love, for the first and last time. ajax is 19 when he kisses you, and he's young, and he's stupid, and he will never regret this, not ever, not when you kiss him back almost instantly, pulling him close by his jersey. it feels so right, it feels too real to be true. he's got to be dreaming. any second now, he expects his daft old professor's voice to scold him for falling asleep during a lecture. but the voice never comes, and you really do taste like lemons and spice, and he hears phone cameras clicking and cheering grow tenfold and he doesn't care because he gets to kiss you.

at some point, you break away. your face is red-hot and he can feel the warm blood flooding your cheeks with how close your faces remain. he ikes it when your lips are swollen because of his. he likes it when your eyes are fixed on him. he likes you. he thinks he was doomed to like you from the start.

when the background finally fades back in, he sees his teammates cheering and ooh-ing like stupid junior high boys. you seem a little disoriented, so he laughs and pulls you away from the stands, helping you climb down the safety rail with a hand in yours and another on the small of your back.

ajax hates his sociology class. he hates the lectures, his professor, the subject— but something good came of it. because he really loves you. with your cardamom tongue and smile lines, and the crease of your eyebrows when you're annoyed, and all of it, and more. he loves you the most. more than anything.

flowers chosen: small sunflower & pink camellia . . adoration & longing for you

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

[earthtooz]

x : THE JOKER AND THE QUEEN :*+ﾟ

in which: you are the best thing to ever to childe, but what will happen when you find out the truth about his profession?

warnings: 4k wc, fluff to angst, ambiguous ending huehue, childe is a whipped loser in love, set in canon, reader has undescribed trauma with fatui (ooo), reader is not referred to with pronouns or a gender but there is a mention of 'queen' (it's up to you how you see it), mentions of violence, childe being referred to as 'ajax', argument, both reader and childe cry, aether and paimon appearance!

a/n: this one might hurt. apologies. (girl u know i want ur love...)

The sun is radiant gold when Childe walks down his peaceful, routine path, away from the bustling commerce centre and towards a peculiar place that he’s called home in Liyue. There are still a million tasks yet to be completed, but for now, his feet take him to the solitude that waits for him at the end of day. 

When Childe arrives at the manor that is his residence in this foreign city, there’s a lifeless kind of calm, the rustling of leaves and flowing stream are the only things to welcome him, but he knows better. Doesn’t need to confirm it when his feet naturally take him upstairs, winding through corridors and towards the balcony that overlooks the horizon. 

The view is very picturesque, overlooking the grandiose Liyue mountains that are decorated with incomparable flora and fauna, but you are there, and he can’t bring himself to look anywhere else. 

You are the best reprieve for his tiring days, and although he will be returning to the Northland Bank to try and solve some of his troubles, the majority of them can be quelled by your presence alone. 

“My darling,” the words slip past his lips without any trouble, and the relief he feels when you turn around and smile at him is insurmountable. Suddenly his hardships dissipate, his lungs are cleared, and his limbs don’t feel as heavy anymore (he can’t think of many people who grin up at him like you do. He hopes you never stop smiling at him like that).

Still, he walks to stand in front of you, and collapses to the floor, resting on his knees by your feet like a faithful jester to his queen. His armour drops and Childe becomes nothing but a man in love before you because there is nothing more human than loving someone more than yourself. 

“Why so exhausted, Ajax?” You ask. 

“The days are bothersome, my love,” he murmurs quietly, slightly muffled, but he then turns his head to look up at you, arms now hugging your calves. “But coming home to you make them infinitely better.” 

“Any good home will bring you comfort,” you deflect, but your words reminds him of a distant, golden memory back in Snezhnaya. The unforgiving, snowy plains had always been his home, the frost that clung to dead tree branches, and the footsteps that he and his siblings left behind in the blankets would were memories of easier times, but here, sitting by you with a chin on your knees, is a memoir of his favourite home. 

The sensation of your hand running through his orange locks take him out of his daydreams, and he melts right into your touch, blood-stained hands completely and wholly attached to you. He commits you to memory, savours the feeling of your warmth against his so he can feel it even whilst he’s away from you. 

Can a home be a person?

He dares to close his eyes. Here, he is safe. Here, he can rest peacefully.

“How was your day?” Asks Childe, stimulating pointless conversation so that he could talk to you and hear your voice that will power him through the tedious night to come.

You begin to talk about the things you had to do today, about the customers you had to deal with, about the errands you still need to run, and all the pressing orders you needed to attend to- hearing it all places an aching weight on his chest. If Childe could have things his way, you wouldn’t need to work at all. You would live life peacefully by his side, without a day of stress as you roam around Liyue Harbour or anywhere else you would want to go, with him holding your arm (would you return to Snezhnaya with him?). 

Alas, life is not so easy nor carefree, but you make it significantly better.

“How pretty is the sunset,” you comment. “Look.” 

He almost doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to put any space between the two of you because looking at the sunset means turning around to face the rays that warm his back, but it’s you who asked him, so Childe turns around and observes the gorgeous blend of colours. He then decides that it’s nothing compared to your beauty.

“Yes, yes, splendid,” the orange-haired agrees, promptly turning back around to look up at you, with a sickening amount of love evident in his eyes. 

“You didn’t even look properly.”

“I’m looking at something much more important right now.”

You shy away at your lover’s blatancy, pushing his face to the side to break his gaze. “Such unabashed flattery, do you have no shame?”

“None! None at all!”

You sigh, a smile creeping at the corners of your lips, timidity teasing Childe as he aches to see more. Reaching for your hands, he intertwines his around them, feeling light as he basks in the softness of your touch that starkly contrast the roughness of his hardened palms. 

His gentle action causes your bracelets to jingle, pure gold and the finest gems of Liyue tinkering quietly against each other. They are gifts from him, he knows because he only buys the best for you. 

“Will you be staying tonight?” You ask. 

His gaze sadly falls to the ground as a regretful, ‘no, I won’t be’ slips past his lips. Tonight, instead of being in your company and resting beside you under the gentle beams of the moonlight, his dedicated Fatui subordinates will be with him instead. The blood on his hands will accumulate and pool by his feet as outstanding debts and scores will be settled, signed with fear and horror as the silence of Liyue sees an unspeakable monster. 

Then, the monster will come crawling to you, fatigued and dirtied with an unrestrained desire to be by your side for as long as time will allow. 

“That’s a shame,” you mutter and Childe winces at the disappointment in your tone. “You work too hard, you know?” 

“It’s just what I need to do,” murmurs the orange-haired, “wish I could spend more time with you, though.”

“It’s alright, as long as I get to see you, I’m happy.” 

He rests his cheek on your knee once more, eyes drooping close. Frighteningly quick, the fatigue he feels from all of his laborious duties catch up to him, latching onto him like a parasite. A nap wouldn’t hurt, 

Nothing can take you away from him, not without a fight. He will bear his teeth, slash his swords until the blades dull, until his bow snaps in half, and until all that’s left of him is a pulp that lies helplessly on the floor, the love pouring from his wounds. Childe only hopes that his last moments are spent in your embrace.

But what will become of this warrior when you’re his opponent? What if you are the one he fights against- what then?

When you wake up one, unassuming morning, you wake up alone. No Ajax to accompany you, the only indication that he was here being the breakfast he had prepared for you that sat atop the counter top. The warmth of the meal lingers, meaning that he must not have left that long ago, and you have to wonder how he knows you so well to guarantee that breakfast is still warm by the time you come down. 

Retrieving a book from the main entrance’s bookshelf, you catch a glimpse of a large box sitting on the entrance table. There is a note beside it, addressed to ‘Traveller’ and signed with ‘Childe’- the name Ajax has supposedly taken up whilst here in Liyue; a merchant name of sorts, he claims. 

You mentally note to listen extra carefully for any knocks at the door, but for now, the promise of a day of relaxation and no work relieves you. Being swamped up in all of your duties meant that you kept forgetting to tell Ajax that you were free for the day, but perhaps you’ll surprise him with a filling and hearty dinner. Work didn’t seem to be all that easy for him either, so you’re sure he’d appreciate the gesture. 

What you weren’t prepared for, however, was discovering a secret that your lover had been hiding from you all this time- in the form of two travellers. 

The anticipated knock on the door came near noon, and two voices from the other side are muffled by the heavy material of the entrance. “Childe said no one would be home, why would you knock?” A high-pitched voice berates.

“Because manners, Paimon!” A male voice retaliates, “even if no one was home, it’s nice to make sure. We shouldn’t barge in without warning.”

“Can you unlock the door yet? Paimon’s dying to know what inside looks like! This property looks so expensive, can you even how much Mora this place is worth! I bet the inside is even-”

The conversation is cut short when you open the door with a soft click, pulling it open slightly. What you’re greeted by, however, is a blond boy with a floating companion, who both wear similar expressions of shock.

“Uh, hello!” You greet with a small smile, feeling slightly awkward.

“Hello, is this Childe’s residence?” The floating one- who you assume is Paimon, asks. 

“You’re at the right place.”

“But he told us no one would be home today!”

“He would be right normally, but I have the day off work. Are you two travellers?”

“Yeah, we are! And who are you?” 

“My name’s Y/n, I’m Childe’s significant other.”

“Childe has a lover?” Paimon’s eyes widen even more if that was even possible. To be honest, this whole scenario was incredibly entertaining. “Since when!”

“We’ve been together for a while. Has he never mentioned me?”

“No! I didn’t even think he could have one with his line of work-”

“-Uhm, we’re kind of in a hurry, I apologise for cutting the conversation,” the blond boy apologises, giving his companion a look before glancing back at you, friendly smile and shining eyes to match his innocent demeanour. “We’re here to pick up something.”

“Ah yes, I did see it. It is rather big, though, could I trouble the two of you to help me bring it out?” You ask, feeling rather embarrassed to bother your guests, but you don’t feel confident to carry the package alone. 

“No trouble at all,” he reassures.

“We can come in, right?” Paimon asks, voice lilting up an octave as mirth shines in her eyes.

“Yes, yes, no need to take off your shoes.” You open the door wider for the two, the floating one flying in first, immediately marvelling at the interior, admiration tangible whilst the blond is a little more reserved, thanking you first before coming in.

What an intriguing pair.

“My name is Aether, and that’s Paimon. I just realised we hadn’t introduced ourselves.” 

“It’s lovely to meet the two of you. Do you do business with Childe often?” Your tongue almost strains at the mention of his business name, but if your boyfriend had appearances to keep, then you needed to try to uphold it too.

Paimon flies over to Aether, joining the conversation. “You could say that. Sometimes he causes more trouble than it’s worth!” 

“That sounds like him,” you huff, an affectionate smile appearing on your face. “The package is right here, but like I said, it seems quite heavy.”

“Allow me,” Aether volunteers, stepping forward to carry the box by himself. He stumbles a little due to the weight, and you hold your hands out just in case.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

The blond merely huffs before shifting the box to one arm. “No need, we’re troubling you enough already.”

“I see. I apologise, if I had known what time you were coming I would have brewed some tea for you two, Liyue has a very fine selection,” you say, fiddling with your thumbs. 

“Aww! Paimon would have loved to try some!”

“Thank you for the offer, I would have liked to try some too, but we are short for time,” Aether explains.

“Then just wait here, I’ll fetch a bag for you to keep on your travels.”

You leave the entrance room before either of them have the chance to reject your offer, and you’re back almost immediately. A new batch you ordered just came in yesterday, so it did not take long for you to try and figure out which one you would like to gift Childe’s… ‘client’. 

“Here,” you hand it to Paimon, who hugs the bag closely to her body. “Travellers need to be at their top shape, right? Hopefully this is something that will rejuvenate you on your journey.”

“This is too kind,” Aether begins, “thank you. We’ll make sure to great care of it.”

“It’s fine! Anyone that is associated with Childe are welcomed here, so long as they’re a nice person that is,” you laugh.

“You can bet we’re the nicest of the bunch!” Paimon exclaims. “I doubt he meets many nice people being a Fatui Harbinger and all!”

A… what? 

Sensing the sudden shift in your mood, Aether’s eyes widen and he tugs at the leg of his companion. “Uh, it was nice meeting you Y/n! Paimon and I will be off now, thank you for the package and tea!” The last statement is nothing but a blend of words toppled over each other as the two practically hurry out of the estate, door slamming behind them in their rush. 

Their abrupt leave didn’t impact you much though, because what did Paimon mean when she said ‘Fatui Harbinger’? Was… Ajax hiding something from you? Or is he Childe? What is the use for a merchant name, anyways? Businessmen don’t usually have identities to keep, but how dire could it be in his industry? After all, second names are only used when wanting to protect yourself from harm, to keep people from knowing who they truly were… a code name for… an organisation like the Fatui to identify them by.

You feel sick, and your hand weakly snakes up to cover your mouth, the other gripping the edge of the table for some sense of stability in your crumbling world. 

Memories come flooding back like a tidal wave, drowning you in the heaviness of the thoughts that clasp around your ankle like anchors. It’s hard to push them away, to ease your mind from the nauseating images that still haunt you to this day: the desperation of your family, the cries, the helpless feeling of being a mere pawn in the game of the Fatui. 

(It hurts to think that you never escaped. After finally surviving through years of hardship, you’ve returned right into the hands of those who caused it, and the thought reminds you of how defeatable you always will be. 

Ajax- Childe, has likely caused devastation similar to the one that wrecked your village years ago. He has blood on his hands, the same ones that have held you tightly against him and stroked your hair. You have kissed his lips- ones that command horrendous acts for others to see through. You love his heart, the same one that probably froze over in Snezhnaya years ago.

You are with someone who has inflicted pain and suffering onto others, and will continue to do so for years to come. But worst of all, you are with a liar, who now makes you question what is and isn’t true.)

Childe returns home at sunset, the rattling of his keys against wood causing fear to crawl down your spine. 

“I’m home!” His cheery voice calls from the front door, and to his surprise, you are sitting on one of the more uncomfortable couches that is merely for decor rather than functionality. “My love, why are you sitting there? There are far more comfortable seats for you-”

“Welcome home, Childe.” 

He pauses in his steps and feels the world stop momentarily. “Darling? What’s with the name?” The Harbinger tries to laugh, but really, you’re scaring him. Very much so. “Come on, you know you don’t need to call me that. Here, I brought back some food that I thought you would enjoy from-” 

“When were you going to tell me?” You’re standing now, slowly stepping towards him as your clothes flow with your every movement. Childe has no time to admire though, not when you and this swirling premonition in his gut is frightening him. 

“Tell you what?” The pit in his stomach already knows.

“Must you act a fool?”

“To what?” He continues because it’s his first instinct to lie. “Darling, please tell me what is troubling you.”

“Please don’t play dumb, I just need the truth, especially now out of all times, are you really a…” you plead, voice trailing off as you hold yourself back from shattering. “You’re not who I think you are, are you?”

“Why do you sound so sad? What happened?” He whispers, beginning to feel the back of his eyes burn as tears invade his eyes.

“A-are you really with the Fatui? A Harbinger, too?” The words fall from your mouth like anvils and suddenly the title that brought him pride and honour through the years dulls. His eyes widen, and the gulp of his throat is all you need to know. 

“I love you,” large, blistered hands desperately reach for you, aching to hold you still because he’s terrified. What if you slip through his fingers and run? What if you go somewhere he can’t follow? “I love you-”

“Just give me the truth, Ajax. I practically know, I just need to hear it from you,” you choke. The call of his name causes him to cave, a hesitant ‘yes’ slipping past his lips, crushing you with the weight of the truth. You cry first and like dominoes, his tears follow.

“Don’t cry,” he hiccups through his own sobs, hands locking around your wrists like bracelets. “I hate it when you cry.”

“Childe-”

“It’s Ajax to you,” the Harbinger pleads, grip tightening in desperation.

“I don’t know what you are to me anymore!” You retaliate, “this whole time, you’ve been lying to me when you know about what happened. I’ve told you everything, and you still decide to keep this from me!” You stumble away from him with more force than necessary, bumping into a table nearby and causing the vase that adorns it to drop. A shrill crack echoes through the room, and instantaneously, he rushes to your aid, asking if you’re hurt as pieces of fina china lay on the floor, water pooling around his feet. 

Mixed in the puddle, are the anxieties and worries that come fumbling out of his mouth. He then pretends like it doesn’t break his heart when you scramble away from him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You ask, voice strained and quiet. 

“If I had told you, would you have stayed, or would you have ran away?”

Your silence chokes him, filling up his airways with lead as he nervously awaits your answer. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t have stayed.”

Childe’s expression glistens with sadness, so crystal clear that it makes his eyes gleam like diamonds deep from the Chasm. “I see.”

“-But I would have appreciated it hearing from you than someone else.”

“Then how did you found out?” He demands, forcing his tone to be soft. 

“If I tell you you’ll go and hurt them,” you murmur. “I don’t want that to happen.” 

With one look at you, it’s clear that you think Childe will hurt you too with the way you cower from him, as if he could ever lay a finger on you or even point a blade in your direction, but the vision hanging on his hip feels heavier than ever. It’s a haunting reminder of who he is, and what he is capable of. 

You feel miles away, how on Teyvat is he going to pull you back?

“Who are you really?”

“I’m yours-”

“-I’m not in the mood for your flirtatious quips,” you snap, hugging yourself. 

“But it’s true, I love you, Y/n, don’t you know?”

“No, no I don’t. I don’t know what else you’re lying about.”

“Oh come on,” he exasperatedly exclaims, “we’ve been together for so long, the day we met you met the real me, as Ajax, not Childe of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. What’s the big deal? Just because I follow the Tsaritsa doesn’t mean I’m not the same Ajax you know, Y/n, please.”

“It’s not only that you’re apart of the Fatui, Ajax- the world is grey, there are things I will never understand. I’m upset because you lied. Like you said, we’ve been together for so long, yet I’m only finding out about this now, so what else don’t I know?” Your voice breaks.

He takes a step forward, but you only take one back, maintaining the distance even though the Snezhnaya native wants nothing more than to just hold you, to secure his place by your side because what can he do without you? 

“What else are you keeping from me? What can I trust about you anymore? You say your real name is Ajax, but how can I know that?” 

Seeing you so upset, so glum, so devoid of the light that makes you you causes his heart to cease, his throat to dry, and sheer terror to flood through him. 

Childe’s seen the face of death, multiple times before, yet he’s never been this scared in his whole life. He’s losing you, he can feel it, but what can he do about it? What can he say that could possibly bring you back? (What good is a jester without the throne he was sworn to entertain? You can’t desert him, he will perform a thousand tricks if it enamours you into staying, will sacrifice more of himself to you if it means you will remain here, safe and sound in his arms.)

You are the reason he returns home everyday, to make sure that you are healthy, happy, and most importantly, that you haven’t left him without a word. If he had to, he would have killed for you, fought anyone and everyone until all that remained of him was the warrior heart that beat for you. But he could have never preempted this, nothing could have ever prepared for him to be the reason that you were leaving.

“I need some space,” you murmur, “to think this all through. Give me some time.”

“What? No,” murmurs the orange-haired. “No, no, no, we can talk about this, right?” 

“Talking won’t do anything, I need time alone.”

The idea of being away from you causes Childe to almost sink to his knees and succumb to the bones in his body that ache to beg at your feet to stay. The cry of your name is weak, but so very desperate as he looks at you through a blurry vision.  

You’re walking towards the front door, each step you take is another one away from him, away from the paradise that he’s been gifted. There are many ways he can stop you right now, his options are far from limited and although they are physical, they are all very effective, but he surrenders instead. Drops his weapons as he lets you go.

“How long?” Is all that Childe asks.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, hand reaching for the door knob. 

“No more than two weeks, please.” Childe doesn’t know if he can handle being away from you for even a day, let alone fourteen. 

“I’ll try.” 

“I’ll search all of Teyvat if that’s what it takes to bring you home,” he affirms, clearing through sobs just to get the words out. He doesn’t back down without a fight, that’s just who he is, so his next words are etched with certainty and clarity, hoping to pierce your defences with arrows of undying devotion. “That’s a promise.”

“I know.” 

You shut the door behind you.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

apologies if there is incorrect lore + if anyone is mischaracterised LOL i have only been playing genshin for like a month.

@fallenssun for u :>

[t4rt4gl14]

✿・PUSSY MAKES THE WORLD GO ‘ROUND !!!

⌘ [ fem!reader ]. fingering ( receiving ). pussydrunk!childe/heizou. edging/overstimulation. toys e.g vibrators. semi public. hair pulling. spanking. praise/degradation. squirting. possessive. [ COLLAB WITH @beelenciaga <33 ]

☑︎ 𐄇𐄇 dark content ahead. 18+ only ♡ 𐄇𐄇

⌘ childe & heizou.

✖︎・CHILDE.

he’s generally obsessed with your sloppy cunt, pushing you onto the bed and not even having the patience to take your panties off diligently— instead he just rips em off, rubbing your sweet clit whilst admiring your wet pussy, practically drooling at the sight of it. sure he wants to shove his cock inside but god does he wanna get a taste first. his tongue licking over your hole and up to your clit. sucking on it before releasing it with a ‘pop’, giving a quick kiss. “mm im gonna have so much fun with you babe”, a deep chuckle escapes from his throat as he wields an iron grip on your thighs. he’s intent on eating you out until you claw at his shoulders, roll your eyes back and just until you break.

fingers gushing in n out of your pussy. the squelching resonates into the crispy night air— the cool air from the open window assisting you to avoid overheating. it all felt so good! “a-ajax! mmn-m!~ please m-m’gonna cum”, and he’s so hyped for your juices to spill into his mouth, “yes baby that’s it, cum mhm good girl let it all out for me!~”. his pleading is the turn that causes you to lose yourself in bliss and pleasure, however he doesn’t seem to stop— pushing up to your sweet spot, prodding the tip of his fingers into the one nerve that had your back arch and squeeze your thighs between his head. childe knew he was going a good job but he never expected you to squirt. his cock straining in his pants. your slick dripping off his chin just as he swallows all of your cum. and when he was finished licking you clean, “oh woah. mm fuck that was hot. do it again!!~”, childe asks with a huge grin on his face, grinding the bundle nerves in figure 8’s.

“ tapping out already? awww cmon, don’t be a partypooper, just one more!!~ “

✖︎・HEIZOU.

shikanoin heizou. one of the greatest detectives but also one of the greatest teasers i mean seriously how long is he going to keep up with this joke of his?? he’s got your legs spread open whilst you sit on the comfy chair in his private office. honestly seeing him on knees is quite the view but what was worse was the fact he has not let you cum at all and it’s been 40 minutes! the pain is just searing- your clit is aching and you’ve never yearned for release so much!! “h-heizou p-please i can’t u-unghhh i can’t!! wanna cum!! mmmg!~”, your pleads fell on deaf and ignorant ears. “awww this cute cunt slutting out just for me?? i can’t let you cum baby i need to taste more!~”.

three fingers shoved deep inside your cunt, thrusting rapidly yet teasingly grinding inside of you when you’re so close to cumming. he constantly promises you that if you keep holding your orgasm, when you actually release it’ll feel so much better than normal. you would’ve thought he’s done teasing you but no instead he focuses on holding a small vibrator to your clit the vibrations pushing you to the edge but not strong enough for you to relish in bliss. “you think you deserve to cum? been so obedient for me haven’t you?”, he questions whilst spanking your ass, the slight jiggle of flesh causes pre cum to ooze out of his clothed cock. soon enough, he decides to show enough mercy and grants you permission to cum— orgasm so powerful that you manage to squirt all over his palm and lips, and making a mess all over but fuck. heizou would be lying if he claimed it didn’t turn him on.

“ i know you’ve still got enough energy for one more, shit m’gonna fuck you like the toy you are, mhmm~ “

✿・TAGGING: @kxisuke + @currysrealm + @leathernourishingshoepolish + @stygianoir + @lex-lee-666

[xianyoon]

saturday sunset ┆ my great, lost love

childe x gn!reader | university au written with the MV for NIKI's oceans&engines in mind. part one out of five. goodbyes are hard, esp when it's childe. 1.6k words. fluff & angst. ꕀ reblogs appreciated, thank uuuu !

goodbyes are always bittersweet. mutual goodbyes are a touch sweet, a little salty, words left unsaid hanging off the roof of your tongue – did we really have to say goodbye, childe? the air feels a little warmer, the lingering humidity forming beads of sweat on your forehead. the sweat could be from something else, you weren’t sure. you weren’t quite sure of anything right now.

you were sure of the man in front of you, though – purple hoodie pulled over his fringe, that childish, toothy smile you fell deep in love with plastered on his face. said man was to depart today, at 6pm, 5 hours from now.

“come on, we have to go.” you hated the words that came out of your mouth. you didn’t want to go at all. your feet stayed planted firmly on the ground as your words betrayed you.

“i don’t want to go yet! we have, like, five hours to go,” childe whines, pulling you closer to him. he was seated on the edge of your bed, almost savouring the last bits of your room – the scent of your bedsheets, the blue throw blanket he laid over you when you always fell asleep first, and . . . you. i don’t want you to go either.

“okay, but if we want to reach the airport on time, we have to go now so we can eat first.”

“i’m not even that hungry yet!” he sounds almost like a petulant toddler, and you almost hate that. he doesn’t deserve to not want to go – childe made the decision after all, didn’t he? archons, it hurt.

“come on.” you poke his sides, eliciting a shriek.

“okay, okay!” childe lets out a laugh as he lets himself get tugged – you let out a small scream from the unexpected lack of force, thrusting you against your bedroom wall with a slam.

“shit. i’m sorry.” he bursts into quiet laughter, rubbing your back. childe looks so much taller than you now – he towers over you, hands against the wall behind. anyone who had come in after your roughhousing would have thought that it was the result of a kabedon. he locks his eyes with yours, pressing a saccharine sweet kiss to your forehead.

his kisses, usually bursting with unparalleled passion, seems somewhat . . . lacking today. it’s almost as if the sombre realisation that he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for a long, long time set in, bleeding bittersweet into the warmth of his touch.

“a proper kiss, love.” you pout, pulling him closer once again.

“i’m sorry.” childe chuckles and presses a kiss to your lips this time – warm, pure, loving, everything. that was his proper kiss. he pulls away slowly, soft smile etched onto his features.

“thank you.”

“hm?”

“thank you. for everything.”

“you know i’m happy to support you.” your words feel like they fall short, but it’s all you can offer.

“no, i’m serious. i know how hard it was for you to accept my decision.”

you look away, unable to meet his eyes. a part of you wants to blurt that it was nothing at all, no, it was your role as a partner to support and love him in everything he did – but you couldn’t quite deny the hurt and pain you felt after the tear-streaked nights, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to get used to it as a replacement of his own – you had already been thinking too far ahead of the nights you’d have to spend away from his arms.

childe’s hand lays outstretched, and you bring your smaller hand next to his. our secret handshake. this overly complicated sequence that ended up with you in his arms. please, don’t unlink your pinky from mine, you want to whisper. his touch seems to last a little longer after your plead.

the universe seems to lend grace to you with how long the last few hours together feel.

the sky, darkening with time, paints a beautiful picture streaked with reds, oranges, yellows blending into one another – the sun bids goodbye in a masterpiece of a painting. the air feels salty with the ocean breeze, a cacophony of shouts and yells of other beachgoers in the background as you and childe sit on the hood of your car, precariously balancing burgers and drinks on your laps.

“heh, you were right. i was pretty hungry.” he grins as he wolfs down a cheeseburger, the local speciality in your hometown – you silently praise whatever force urged you to get two of them, just for him. you indulge childe with a soft, i-knew-it look, eliciting a laugh from him.

i’m going to miss you, childe.

the car bounces up slightly, breaking you out of your stupor as you watch him lean into the window to turn up the music. his wrapper sits balled up, paper crumpled and left to the side as he stretches his hand out to take yours.

“dance with me?” a cheeky grin appears. please don’t do this, love. it’s not like we have all the time in the world. you grab his hand anyways, twirling yourself under his arm. it’s not like we have all the time in the world. you let your mind wander once you’re safe in his arms, just like the night of your school prom.

“i have news, babe. you might want to sit down for this.”

“is everything alright?”

“yeah, yeah! more than alright. everything’s great. uh. just take a look.” he thrusts a piece of paper into your face, waggling it – you try your best to read it with all his movement, but take it into your hands instead.

To Mr. Tartaglia,

We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance to Teyvat University in the fall of 2024.

teyvat university.

that was over ten thousand miles away.

ten thousand miles away from childe.

“…are you alright, (y/n)?” you want to cry. he sounds so earnest, so excited, that you feel like you must be happy for him. even if there was a nagging feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach. gotta say i’m okay.

“i’m… i’m so proud of you.” you force a smile onto your features, hugging him tightly. keep smiling, and maybe it’d feel natural. it’s just a shock to your system, after all. that’s all it was. right?

you feel the warmth of his arms pull away in the present moment, replaced by the cool sea breeze, to see him laughing and dancing to the song on the radio. what a pleasure it is to see him so carefree.

“it’s time to go.”

“already?! noooo.” you let out a soft laugh at that, tugging him towards the trash bin to dispose of the mess, and back to the car. it was time to greet the airport, and to give childe a goodbye.

“i don’t want you to leave,” you whisper, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. you can feel his boarding pass sticking out of his ticket tickling the back of your neck, but you nestle deeper into him – time seems to stop for your embrace, travellers in the airport moving in slow-motion as he gathers you in his arms for one last hug.

“i know, i don’t want to leave you either. i’ll call you every other day, and i’ll come back every chance i get. make sure to not get sick of me, yeah?” he playfully tussles your hair.

“i can never get sick of you.” your words are muffled by his thick hoodie.

the chime of his plane’s announcement is heard over the airport system – it’s real now. childe is leaving, and he’s leaving now. you’re not going to see him for a few months once he goes past immigration.

“please don’t forget me,” you whisper almost desperately, clutching the back of his hoodie. there's a quiet vulnerability to your words, tears unshed waiting to make their appearance, begging him to stay.

“are you alright?” childe brings a hand up to your forehead. “i’m not going to forget you just because i’m studying overseas, darling.”

“okay then.”

“but i really have to go now.”

“i know.” you hold him tighter.

he laughs, kissing you on the lips one last time before breaking away from your embrace.

“i’ll be back before you know it. we’ll go back to all the places we used to go to, okay? the diner, the bookstore we hid in when it rained, and the beach, and ooh! the aquarium we brought teucer to? we’ll go back there too. maybe we’ll get a discount for being regulars.” childe wraps both arms around you one more time.

“okay. i’ll hold you to that.”

“i love you, babe.”

“i love you too.” you close your eyes and hate yourself for wishing that your boyfriend’s achievements were only a fragment of your dream.

you find yourself back in the same spot where you had dinner with him, perched on the hood of your car and admiring the fading sunset, the sky blue with hints of yellow from the sun’s final goodbye for the day.

you’re not even gone yet, but i miss you already.

a loud roar of a plane’s engines brings your eyes up to the sky – the very same plane carrying childe flying overhead. your eyes immediately shift to the airplane windows, hoping to spot a glimpse of the messy ginger hair, or a small bit of that purple hoodie he always wore. you don’t see anything, and a sigh of defeat parts your lips.

please stay like you, childe. you’re the one person i can’t outgrow.

[lostsunlight]

✧ TO NEGOTIATE WITH A GOD AND A HARBINGER

Childe x Zhongli x Reader ✧ wc: 2.8k

CW: nsfw, threesome, overstimulation, oral (giving and receiving), praise, teasing, switch reader and childe, dom zhongli, anal, brief after care

Synopsis: After you end up involved in what could only be described as diplomatic nightmare between The 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia and Wangsheng Funeral Parlour's consultant Zhongli, you finally organise a meeting to question the two. The meeting however, doesn't go as expected.

masterlist ✧ ao3

The Fatui were causing a diplomatic headache to state it lightly. Ningguang had you working to the bone trying to prevent a war between Liyue and Snezhnaya. You could pin the blame on two individuals Tartaglia, The 11th Fatui Harbinger and Zhongli, the consultant for Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. 

Childe’s unpredictable actions had you changing your approach every day, carefully thinking through plans just for them to be thrown to the wayside upon hearing the news that Childe had gone and done another stupid thing. The attitude of the Snezhnayan diplomats didn't help at all.

Despite being intimately involved with The Harbinger before it led to nothing but dead ends, both being content to use each other for a night. With that strategy crossed off you would have to try a new technique.

Zhongli on the other hand had a particular talent of giving non-answers to any questions asked of him, especially when it came to ties to the Fatui. For some reason Master Hu had palmed the Qixing off to him for questioning.

Hopefully today the mess would be resolved, you had finally managed to organise a meeting between the three of you on behalf of Ningguang. You had every faith that Zhongli would show up, Childe however? You could only hope.

You sat behind your desk, arms crossed, you were nearly fed up with the two men sitting before you. After what felt like hours of questioning you had circled back to where you had started, not a single answer had been given to you. At this point it was clear as day that Childe was scheming and Zhongli seemed none the wiser. 

What was even worse is that Childe had seemingly been flirting with you the entire meeting. You had made every effort to not respond to his advances, just wanting an end to this diplomatic nightmare. 

As you stood up to dismiss them from your office Zhongli and Childe gave each other a look. 

“Y/N…” Childe said, placing his hands on your desk

“Hm?” you look at him and raise an eyebrow, eyes flitting to Zhongli

“I’ve been thinking”

“That must be new” you snarked, you didn't miss a small laugh from Zhongli 

“Funny. I was going to say I’ve been thinking about that night”

“Zhongli is right there Tartaglia” you said, shock weaved into your voice

“Zhongli and I were thinking you could join us for a night” He continued on as if you hadn't just spoken 

“Sorry?”

“You heard me” He stared right at you, smirk tugging at his lips

You looked away, blush gracing your cheeks. You looked back to Childe and then to Zhongli. They were both attractive, maybe a night with them might relieve some of the stress they’ve caused you. What did you have to lose?

You walked around the desk to where Zhongli was standing and traced a finger along his jaw, he grabs your wrist and gives your hand a kiss. 

“It was I who proposed the idea, Childe told me how good you were” 

“Is that so?” You looked up at him through your lashes

Without a second thought you kissed Zhongli, hands reaching up to bury themselves in his brown hair. The kiss was soft and sweet, the exact opposite of what Childe had given you. You moaned a little and Zhongli took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. His hands remained gripping your waist ever the gentleman.

The two of you break apart for air and Zhongli takes the opportunity to bury his face in your neck, you tilt it a bit to give him better access and he kisses up the column of your neck. You let out a small whimper. Your eyes fly open to see Childe staring daggers at you and Zhongli. 

“Jealous?” You breathe out, eyes half lidded with lust

“Hardly” he replies, despite him trying to hide it you could hear the strain in his voice. 

He slips off his grey jacket and disappears from your line of sight. A moment later you feel him behind you, hard cock grinding against your ass. You bite your lip to prevent another moan, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. One hand joining with Zhongli’s at your waist and the other snaking around your torso.

Zhongli pulls away from your neck and draws Childe in for a kiss, much like with you he was rough. The hand wrapped around your torso moves up to your neck and he pulls you closer to him. 

Zhongli pulls away from the kiss and steps back to let Childe have you for a bit. He seats himself down, happy to watch. Childe backs you onto your desk, you clear the surface, papers fluttering down to the floor. You jump up onto the desk. His hands tangle in your hair, angling your head to his liking as he kisses you, tongue pushing into your mouth. 

Your hands move to unbutton his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Your hands skirt down his abdomen, littered with scars. You stop at his clothed cock, gripping it you hear him sharply inhale. 

You pull away “Just a little kissing and your already this hard” you tease

He doesn't give you a reply, drawing a finger up your soaked underwear. You bit back a whimper, not wanting to give him any satisfaction.

“You’re one to talk” He slides your underwear to the side and presses on your clit. Slowly he presses one finger into you and curls it. Your body betrays you and you moan. He presses in another finger, stretching you out. 

You pull him closer, lips ghosting his “You would look much better on your knees you know”

Childe chuckles “Why would I do that, you already look so pretty like this”

“I thought you would be the type to return the favour” You give his hair a tug and push him onto his knees by his shoulders. He doesn't complain as he hooks his fingers around the sides of your underwear and pulls it down revealing your glistening cunt. 

You hear him swear in Snezhnayan under his breath. You hook your legs over his shoulders and he grabs your hips, fingers digging in hard enough that there would be bruises tomorrow. He kisses the inside of your thighs before moving onto your pussy. He licks a firm stripe up your cunt and kisses your clit. 

You arch your back, one hand buried in his rusty locks the other on the desk to support yourself, head canted back in pleasure. He presses two fingers into you again, curling them to reach the spot that makes you breathless. You let out a long drawn out moan as his tongue circles your clit.

You tilt your head down, drawing closer to your high. Your eyes meet with Zhongli’s golden gaze, fixed on you and Childe. Slowly he gets up and draws a finger along your jaw, forcing your head up to look at him. He laces his fingers in the back of Childe’s hair. You hear him moan as Zhongli gives it a firm tug, pushing him further into your cunt.

“You’re doing so well” he rumbles out, you weren't sure if he was referring to you or Childe, maybe both. He pulls you in for another kiss. Childe pumps his fingers faster, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Zhongli pulls away and forces you to look down at Childe.

“Look at him when you cum, he’s being so good for you” Childe whines again at the words, pulling his tongue away from your clit he replaces it with his thumb, resting his head on on the plush of your thigh. You were so close.

“Stop being such a tease xiangsheng ”

With one final swipe of his thumb across your sensitive clit you came, following Zhongli’s order to look at Childe. You let out a long drawn out moan as Childe keeps on going as you ride out your orgasm. 

“A-Ah stop its too much” 

“Not a chance girlie. Look at you, so desperate for us” You whine at his words 

“Oh you like it when we talk?” 

“H-Hahh” you were unable to form a proper sentence, let alone a thought. So lost in the haze of lust and overstimulation.

You look at Zhongli, still fully clothed for help. Much to your surprise he pulls on Childe’s hair drawing his head back. He grabs his hand that was just playing with your cunt and licks the two fingers.

“You taste divine darling” His gloves fingers go to your pussy and slides up it. He places a thumb on your lower lip, you open your mouth and let him place his slick covered fingers in. You suck, mewling at the sweet taste. 

Zhongli withdraws his fingers and draws them down your chin down to your clavicle. He begins to strip off his many layers, you pull your shirt over your head and unclasp your bra leaving you bare. Childe traces his knuckle along the side of your breasts. 

Zhongli stalks behind Childe just as he unclasps his belt, letting his pants fall to the floor. You reach out instinctively to grab his cock. It was long and slender, a tight fit last time. You give it a few pumps, Childe grabs your wrist to stop you. 

Zhongli grabs Childe’s hips and moves them towards him. You catch a glimpse of Zhongli’s dick, if Childes was big his was huge. He was not only girthy but long. Zhongli slides his palm down the plane of Childe’s back stopping at his ass. He gently presses one finger in. Childe mewls at the feeling, letting go of your wrist and falling forward extending his arms on either side of you to support himself. 

You grab his jaw, other hand resuming the slow pumping of his cock “Look who's desperate for us now” you say in a slightly condescending tone, trailing your thumb over his lower lip.

Childe’s response was cut short by another moan as Zhongli adds a second finger, your hand trails down his neck to his chest. You give one nipple a pinch while you increase the pace you were pumping his cock, thumb swiping over the slit, gathering the precum at tip.

“I like you better like this” you continue to tease him

“Childe” Zhongli said in a calm tone withdrawing his fingers from his ass, he leans in to whisper in his ear. 

“Be a good boy and fuck her” his breath ghosted the shell of his ear. Childe didn’t need any other encouragement. He swats your hand away from his dick and pushes you down so you’re lying flat on the desk. His hands dance up from your hips along your torso, kissing your breasts, sucking hard enough to leave marks. He moves up to your neck, giving it a quick bite.

“Ready?” he asks, cock already teasing your entrance, sliding up and down to gather your pooling slick.

“Yes” you breathe out. Without another moment he shoves his cock into you, burying himself up to the hilt. You let out a loud moan at the intrusion. Eyes rolling back as he gives your neck a squeeze and begins to set a rough pace, fucking you as he pleases.

You see Childe be pushed down a little by Zhongli so he's now resting on his elbows above you. Zhongli gives his cock a few pumps and then pushes his dick into Childes ass, Childe buries his head in your neck to muffle the cry. He gives his ass a slap and then begins to fuck him roughly. His movements making Childe thrust into you. 

You began to feel your orgasm on the horizon, one of your hands moving down to circle your clit. Childe was too gone, too lost in pleasure to even think straight, he finally had his fantasy of being between you and Zhongli. 

Zhongli increases the pace, making it more and more brutal, unlike Childe he's not very vocal, only letting out small huffs as grunts. He looks at you, you look so fucked out, eyes clenched shut a small sliver of drool across your chin.

“Good boy, taking us both like this” Zhongli grunted, he wrapped his arms around Childe’s torso and pulls him up against his chest. You feel yourself getting more and more hazy.

“F-Fuck I’m gonna cum hahh” You whine, arching your back off the table, breasts meeting Childes scarred chest.

With one final swipe of your clit you cum, squeezing around Childe’s cock, he thrusts through your orgasm, intensifying it. 

This in combination with Zhongli hitting that spot inside of him over and over again Childe cums. He lets out a drawn out moan, eyes flying open. Thick white ropes painting your insides.

“How disappointing” Zhongli comments and he slides out of Childe’s ass, he whines at the loss of his cock filling him so well.

Zhongli bends over and picks up white tie, he ties it around Childe’s wrists and forces him to sit in the nearby chair, cock half-hard covered in your mixed releases. He then turns to you, sitting back up, Childe’s cum leaking out of your pussy. 

“Turn around” You obey, jumping off the desk and leaning over it

“It’ll be a tight fit darling, I’ll go slowly” he whispers in your ear, planting a kiss between your shoulder blades

“Well see about that” you turn your head to look at him, raising a brow.

He doesn’t dignify you with a response, simply pressing his fat head in. You whine at the feeling as he pushes deeper into you, using Childe’s cum mixed with yours as lube. 

“What was that you were saying?”

You whine in response, Zhongli grabs your hair and pulls your head back like he had done for Childe as he bottoms out, refusing to move.

“Use your words darling” he demands

“I-I’m sorry, just please fuck me” you plead

He gives one short thrust 

“Please, Zhongli! I’ll be good for you” 

Satisfied with you begging he lets go of your hair and presses a hand into the centre of your back and pushes you down against the desk. He fucks you like he had just fucked Childe, hard, fast rough. From this angle everything felt more intense, you were losing it quickly. 

Childe stares at the display, cock already hard watching the two of you. He struggles against Zhongli’s expensive tie, desperately wanting release again. After a few seconds he frees himself from the simple restraint. He gives himself a few strokes and then walks around to the other side of the desk. 

Zhongli looks up at him and quirks his eyebrow, not expecting to see Childe there. You look up at Childe as well, you let out a mewl as Zhongli thrusts into particularly roughly. Childe, tired of not being in control of the night, takes advantage of one of your moans to press his cock against your lips. 

Without hesitation you lick the slit, tasting his salty precum on your tongue. He presses deeper into your mouth and grabs your hair, he begins to fuck you in tandem with Zhongli’s thrusts. You’re completely gone at this point, a mess between the two men. Without much warning another orgasm hits you, you squeeze harshly against Zhongli's cock, he stills his thrusts a little. 

Childe continues to fuck your throat, admiring the tears begging to prick at the corners of your eyes. 

“Fuck, look at you, looking so fucked out for us” You moan around his cock at his words, bringing Childe closer to the edge. After a few more rough thrusts into your throat Childe’s hips still and he cums down your hot throat, you taste the salt. You open your mouth to show him you swallowed it all. 

“Good Girl” he praises you, tucking piece of hair behind you ear 

You grab his hands to support yourself as Zhongli thrusts into you with reckless abandon, using you to desperately chase his own release. After a few more minutes he grabs your hips with bruising force. Pumping your hot cum into you. He pulls out, letting it slide down your thighs.

You lie there for a second, collecting your thoughts after what just happened.

“Come, lets get cleaned up” Childe says, Zhongli helps you off the desk. You begin to haphazardly pull your clothes back on with Childe and Zhongli.

“There's a bathroom just down the hall, it's late enough that everyone would be gone but be careful anyways”

With some luck the three of you make the way to the luxurious bathroom that only the Jade Chamber would have. You clean yourselves up and make your way to the terrace floating high above Liyue

“Until the next negotiation” You give them a nod and they descend together. 

You scold yourself internally for not getting answers, hopefully next time you would get more. 

[angelblacksmith]

childe ✧ :-゜・．

hard day. a very hard day full of documents related to the new goal of Harbingers. so as soon as he came home, twenty minutes later his head was already between your thighs. he ate out of you like the most delicious piece of cake while you writhed in bliss on the sheets, and your tits bounced from the thrusts of his fingers. the fabric rubbed roughly against the tender skin of the cunt, making you moan long. he sucked your clit, licked all your folds and fucked you with his finger until you became a complete mess. and he definitely won't stop until you cum at least twice.

.・。.・゜✭・

[rottendollface]

Sons of Sin.

Request by: @bigtimesalt8196

Character: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Warnings: NSFW; Little Red Riding Hood AU, different lore of Archons, werewolf yandere Ajax, narcissistic Aether with sadistic inclinations, female reader is a radical believer, Ajax was born from a different man, incest, crowd collapse, cannibalism, unwanted marriage, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, oral sex, bestiality, fingering, knotting, slight lactation kink, planned murder, voyeurism, 18+.

W/C: 9388.

Art by: Pixart AI.

When the hunger awoke there was nothing more, but pain – pain of cracked bones and stretched out joints. Not a scream, but a feral howl could be heard, as Ajax experienced his first transformation in the deepest of the impenetrable forest. You woke up from the echoes of roar that made windows in your room rattle. You froze in your bed in fear, but curiosity took over you and you got up, coming to the window on your tiptoes. You looked out, and the yard was clean, no sign of someone's presence.

Without a candle you stepped into the darkness of the corridor and rushed to the nursery, where Teucer and Tonya lived. “It's me,” you whispered, opening the creaking door; you heard both of them sobbing and tried to calm them. “It's okay, little ones. That's our Patron Saint howling in the forest, foretelling the Blood Moon.”

You came to their shared bed. Both Tonya and Teucer curled in dread, hugging each other. Their bed stayed against the wall, so you took the unprotected side, hiding them behind your figure. Like a young gentleman he was, Teucer had always let Tonya sleep against the wall, as she was afraid of the dark. You felt Teucer clinging to you, and Tonya did the same, but to him. You reached your hand, trying to hug both of them at the same time. With you by their side, your younger siblings felt safe and finally relaxed.

“Sleep, my ducklings,” you soothed. ”There is nothing to be afraid of. Your older brother will do everything right. Have faith in him.”

Before the festival of the Blood Moon the oldest son of the head of the village had to step into the forest to present the gifts to the Patron Saint – Ajax was the chosen one, and you were praying for him to return from the mission safely. You knew he would be alright, yet you asked the Patron to have mercy on Ajax and bring him back home.

You were humming a chant until Tonya and Teucer fell asleep, then you got up and left noiselessly. In the corridor you saw a glimpse of candle light and Aether, your groom, appeared in front of you immediately after.

“Is everything okay?” Aether murmured, anxiety on his face. You sighed – no more frightened children for you tonight.

“Yes. Please come to your bedroom, Aether.” You patted him on his bare shoulder. “You shouldn't walk in a negligee. Someone could see you.”

“I'm sorry. You know, those sounds…” Aether became confused at how you raised your brows in mock and disbelief, so he coughed to change the subject. “May the rest of the night be good for you.”

“Same for you. Now, please excuse me.” You hurried to your room. Again, you peeked through the window to see at least traces of Ajax on the white snow, yet again you saw nothing.

Ajax was special to you. Frequent touches and an urge to do everything all together: it were the reasons father started searching for a husband for you. Father knew how a woman's charm could make a man's head clouded, and Ajax, who was born from a different seed, could fall for it easily. Father's concerns towards Ajax's and your relationship were vile, yet they were true – both of you fell for the same sin of incest. Ajax was the result of your mother's first marriage, so everyone in the family counted him as an alien, a descendant of a different breed, despite the fact that all of the family's children shared the same mother. He was treated with the same love and respect, but deep inside everyone in the house, except mother, thought of him as a stranger at home.

Mother's silent approval of your relationship with Ajax was the starting point of the communication turning into a love affair. For you Ajax's attention was something you craved for. Ajax was reliable, kind and brave. He was always on your side, ready to protect you from everything: Ajax could sacrifice the world for you, and you knew no one would treat you with as much respect and care as him.

Ajax understood his affection towards you was different from teenage years. Your figure and your facial features were much more elegant than other brothers' and sisters'. Your steps were imponderable, your moves were extensively gracious, and your presence was radiating with vitality and joy. Smile on your lips could make everyone's day brighter, and the tender gaze of your glistening eyes was the only thing every village man dreamed of seeing. You had a supernatural charm and used it instinctively, making everyone fall in love with you from just one sight. You were precious: hospitable and selfless. Everything Ajax admired in women was collected in you, making you the most desirable one, and the temptation of forbidden fruit made him lose his head over you. He knew you would be a perfect mother. Your love was a glory to him, and Ajax was dreaming about starting a family with you. He wanted to see you nursing his offspring, wanted to come home, and be greeted by your kisses and hugs from his children. Ajax was ashamed to admit to himself that he thirsted to see you breastfeeding his child. Once he saw mother doing that, and a scandalous fantasy appeared in his head, never wanting to leave. Just the idea of a child sucking on your swollen nipple and your breasts round, full of milk, made Ajax blush from arousal.

Maybe your beauty and virtue were the reason why Aether, the named prince of newly founded territories of Snezhnaya called the Abyss, agreed to marry you without hesitation. Both, Ajax and you, were shocked at the news of your approaching wedding. You rebelled: you didn't want to marry and wanted to spend at least five more carefree years in your family, not to serve some stranger. Father was sure he needed to send you out of the house, and the Blood Moon was the best time to do so. Father found a perfect man for you – Aether, an outlander from the capital who owned a business of search and excavation of minerals. He was a few years older than you, handsome and wealthy to be counted as a good groom.

Aether arrived at the village not so long ago, his horses were resting at the same stable with yours, and his carriage was staying in the backyard. He was welcomed, settled in the best room of the house and got surrounded by care from elders and waggish affection from children. Your family accepted him and tried to make him feel like home in your house, yet Ajax and you weren't sharing the same excitement from Aether's presence. You were acting demure and cold, while Ajax didn't try to hide his irritation and hostility towards Aether. Ajax hated the way Aether was walking around the house and eyeing everything with interest and confusion: unlike people from the Capital, you, the residents of the village in Snezhnaya's outskirts, had different beliefs and traditions that baffled outlanders. There was an altar with a self-painted ikon (it depicted a creature with a human body, but a wolf's head), surrounded by candles and flowers, on every door frame there were carved out runes, all the kids in the village were wearing bracelets of black tourmaline, and no bibles of Archons could be found in the whole village. The difference between Aether and your family was clear: he believed in the Seven, and you believed in the local God, which was branded as false and destroyed by the Seven. In the Capital you were called heretics, in the village Aether was called traitor. Ajax was a radical believer and outlander's ignorance made him furious. You could call yourself a radical too, but you had patience and didn't have problems with heathens, until they respected your faith.

Maybe the roots of miscommunication between Aether and you laid in the different background, maybe it was a fear of Ajax's fervent jealousy that made you avoid your groom. You knew for sure that you would never be able to betray your heart and chose Aether instead of Ajax. You didn't want him as your friend even: Aether's presence made you nervous, but you had to act like a welcoming person not to disgrace your family. From his side, Aether showed you signs of affection and seemed to be genuinely interested in you – it made you nauseous. You were tired of smiling at him and acting happy for the gifts he gave you, but you didn't need him and his trinkets. It was the bitter truth, but your father chose to stay blind to it. He made a good deal and didn't want to lose any profit from it: Aether's company got permission to extract minerals from the village's abandoned mines and sell them, but the half of earned money belonged to the villagers.

You got up earlier than everyone else and searched for Ajax. You found him in his bedroom, sleeping tightly from night events. You kissed him on the forehead gently – you wanted to ask him so many things but kept your curiosity tamed. You closed the door to his room and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the family. Aether came down when you were in the process of baking sweet buns. You tensed up, but couldn't do anything about it.

“Happy Blood Moon, Aether,” you gave him a wide smile. Today was the day of the festival, and you were looking forward to dancing, music and contests. “Give me a minute, please, and I'll serve you something to eat.” You placed buns into the oven and began to bustle around the kitchen.

“Aren't we supposed to wait for everyone else and eat all together?” His voice sounded deliberately uninterested. You opened your mouth to answer him, but felt his hands squeezing your hips, then his figure pressing to yours. It was easy to take you by surprise, as you were standing with your back to him. He bucked his hips into yours, making you put your hands in front of you to keep balance. Aether's warm lips brushed against your neck, his agile fingers were reaching under your heavy wool skirt. “We have plenty of time, and I know a faster way to pass it. With pleasure, of course.”

“No!” You clung on his wrists, clawing into Aether's skin until he hissed. “I don't want to!”

“Come on, don't be such a coy, I'm your groom after all. Not all the methods include penetration, if you are afraid of it.” He giggled, moving one of his hands to your breast. You tried to break free, but he just pressed you tighter between his body and the corner. “Didn't your mother teach you what is happening between man and woman?”

“I'm on my period!” You made one more attempt and this one was successful. Quickly, Aether got his hands off of your body and excused himself. He left the room so as not to embarrass himself and you.

You weren't so coy and shy as Aether thought of you. You laid with man and were no stranger for passion, but the only one who had access to your body was Ajax. Aether's touches made you disgusted, and the responsibility of sharing bed with him made you frightened. He expected to marry a virgin, while you were so experienced you could teach him the true art of carnal love. What would Aether do after convicting you of obscenity? You were frightened at this point. The only way for you to find an answer to how to hide your past was to confess to your mother and ask for help. You knew she wouldn't make trouble from it, yet you felt ashamed.

You spend about an hour alone in the kitchen until mother came; Tonya and Teucer ran ahead of her. Mother kissed you on the cheek first, then on your forehead. She was calm as always, it seemed like nothing could disturb her tranquility. Then father came along with Aether: they were chatting about something, both obviously pleased by the topic. Your heart dropped. You were waiting for Ajax, but it seemed he was too exhausted to get up so early.

The family took places at the table, and Ajax appeared at the doorstep. “Brother!” You exclaimed, happiness on your face and glint in your eye. You ran to hug him, when your arms grasped him tightly, you heard a silent groan. Ajax patted you back weakly. “How did it go?”

“Like it should. Perfectly fine.” Ajax smiled, yet on his tired face it looked poorly.

“Hail to the Saint Werewolf!” You raised your hands above your head and folded them in a prayer gesture. “May the Blood Moon wash the sins from our village and bless another year with a good harvest and enough prey.”

“Hail to the Saint.” Ajax repeated after you and made the same gesture.

Father gazed down, perturbed by your religious enthusiasm. He looked at Aether slyly, trying to find a shade of disgust or anger on his face, but Aether seemed confused only.

“It's good to remember about your roots, but we don't bring any religious manner to the festival anymore, dear,” father spoke to you loudly. Mother scoffed, and Ajax frowned his eyebrows immediately. “We should worship The Seven only, don't forget about this.”

“On our land we should worship our God, not the usurpers.” Ajax demanded. He pushed you back and stepped in front of you, ready to argue. “Everyone who comes into the village should obey its rules, or go away with their ugly gods. There is no other option.”

“He is right,” You took your brother by his hand and pulled back gently, shortening his temper. “We have a great history and shouldn't be ashamed of it. Shame is the first sign of vulnerability.”

You held your head high, irradiating pride in your brother and the strength of your beliefs, so did mother, smiling with the corners of her lips only. Tonya and Teucer were busy playing rock-paper-scissors and didn't care about affairs of adult life. Aether just shrugged his shoulders, as he didn't want the conflict to continue. Even for him it was clear that father, despite being in rule in the village, was treated with neglect and skepticism by his own family, but he seemed to be perfectly fine with it. Mother was ruling the family from the shadows and you took after her. You got control over Ajax, making yourself a second authority figure, and was in charge of solving minor problems. Since the first day here, Aether noticed that your older brother was following you everywhere like a dog and looking at everyone with a wolf's gaze, full of anger, when someone tried to communicate with you. Maybe it was the traditions of your community, but Aether didn't like it at all. Aether believed that a wife should be humble and afraid of her husband, and you were an untamed horse. He was looking forward to breaking your character after the wedding. It wouldn't be easy work for sure, yet there was something exciting in restraining someone so impetuous and mentally strong.

Breakfast went surprisingly peacefully. Hours were left until the festival, so children were playing in the living room, while Ajax, Aether and you were watching after them.

“So what great history is behind the festival's origin?” Aether asked, trying to start the conversation.

"In the festival we pay tribute to the sacred protector of the village – the werewolf." You explained with a merry voice, preparing yourself to tell the whole legend. "The legend says that long before Archons descended to Teyvat, the long forgotten God created the world. The God created human creatures, a man and a woman. To protect them, it created a wolf and assigned him guarding humans, but the evil rose from the underworld. The evil assured the God that his creations were too perfect and it would lead the world to imbalance – so to keep the sacred balance, the God's every creature should have a gift from the evil as well. The God agreed, and allowed evil to spill his gifts to his creatures. The wolf was gifted with envy, the man was gifted with hubris and the woman was gifted with fear. Once, when the God left its children without care, the man started treating the wolf with neglect. In order to make the wolf fear him and respect him, the man was beating the animal. The woman, afraid of her husband, was just watching the process with tears in her eyes. The wolf was watching how the man and the woman lived together, and he felt envy for what they had: the wolf, too, wanted a mate, but the God forgot to make one for it. That's why deep at night, when the man tried to beat the wolf one more time, the wolf attacked him and killed the first man in the world, and took his wife as its mate. After this night the Moon in the Sky turned red from the blood of the man, and the wolf hid in the forest with its woman, where she birthed him many children, half-human and half-wolf, and they founded many villages, where they passed their genes from one generation to another; they protected each other, as well as everyone else, who asked for protection."

“How can you worship the one who killed the first man? Why didn't your god punish the beast for that?” Perplexed, Aether recalled the holy scripture of Archons and found it way more fair.

“Because he deserved this.” Ajax grunted, clenching his fists.

“No one deserved nothing,” you hurried to make up for your brother. “It was the natural order of balance. Hubris took over the man and made him sin which led to evil imbalance. The wolf atoned for the guilt by protecting people and honoring his children to do so. The balance was restored.”

“Never should an animal have power over a man.” Aether shook his head. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ajax clenching his fists.

“Our God was killed by Archons and Archons ordered us to forget our roots. They pursued us into the depths of the forest because our religion is different and they tried to rewrite our history. We suffered enough persecution, so don't start a fight over such a sensitive problem.” You blurted out, noticing Ajax's anger building up. One more word and he would sprang at Aether. “We want peace.”

Aether gave up. He switched his gaze to a burning fireplace, musing. You did as well, letting anxiety take over you. Historically, only villagers were allowed to participate in the festival. By inviting Aether, father did him a great honor, but Saint Patron could get angry at this. Was the wealth of the whole village worth the feelings of one man? If you were the one to rule, you would have never allowed an outlander to the festival. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed heavily. Father was the only problem of your family. He led the village for twenty years, and during his ruling the faith was called into question. The movement of traitors, who believed in the Seven, became more popular with every year. Father tried to contain it, but gently, reluctantly even. You didn't know what to do. As an elder's daughter, you were acting the role of keeper of traditions. You finished the local church school and knew about dissent between priests, as you had seen it with your eyes while studying there. The village was falling apart slowly, and you were afraid the last day of it would come soon.

Before leaving for the festival, Ajax asked you to spare a moment for him. He waited until others left, then he took your hands in his, chattering indistinctly. Ajax told you he had to go and check for grandmother, then he pleaded you to be careful in his absence. You noted his hands were extremely warm and trembling, but Ajax assured you he was alright. He kissed you on your lips quickly and left. It was a simple kiss, yet you felt excited.

The celebration began after a solemn speech from father. Music filled the village, and the fair was full of delicious food, sparkling drinks and sweet pastries; on the main street a theatrical performance unfolded. Common happiness made the old grudges disappear. Aether was exploring bright intricate decorations with interest. Tonya cried to you to go to the contests, and you only managed to warn mother on where both of you were going.

Time passed quickly, but the festival was building up momentum. Tonya, excited after games, didn't want to go home and took you to the fair. Tired, you were following Tonya, who was running from one stand to another, choosing what to eat. She decided to have a slice of blueberry pie and a cup of hot tea. You paid for her, and finally took a place to rest. Tonya was full of energy despite hours of active games. After a short break she wanted to go see a performance on the main street. It was dark already, but lanterns of various colors and forms were lightened, making the atmosphere dreamlike – of course she wanted to stay for a little long.

Joyful, she finished her tea time. You returned dishes to the owner and took Tonya's little hand in yours. She was hopping and humming a song to herself. You stopped at the stage; actors were playing a scene from local myths: one of the actors was dressed in a wolf mask and fur, another had a red oblong devil mask. You weren't familiar with this story, so you focused on the performance. Tonya, who was waiting for something more funny, got bored. Skillfully made costumes and attention to details of the initial myth didn't impress her.

Performance moved to the conflict part: when the wolf-actor opened the mask's muzzle, a horrifying deep roar came out. Blood froze in your veins, at how naturally and loud the sound was produced. Actors stalled, both of them were confused and just looked at each other. You looked around and noticed an enormously big shadow approaching, but before you could do something, it attacked. In a moment a human howl of terror and pain covered the whole village, an uncontrollable panic started. Then followed frightened horses neighing and wailing of cattle. You almost managed to take Tonya up in your arms, and the crush started. Afraid, people from the front rows pushed everyone who was behind them; others, who were running to the main street were bumping into fleeing. You covered Tonya's head with your arm to protect it; it was hard for you to stay on your feet, as you tried to break out the crowd. Bodies pressed to you, didn't let you slip out, you got hit with elbows and the crowd was stepping on your toes. You were about to fall into hysteria, and Tonya's cry right near your ears made it worse. You pleaded to your God, and by attempt you slipped into free space, but you didn't run away for too long: the village fell in infernal chaos, the fair was engulfed in flames, and screams with running people made you lose your vigilance. Someone ran into you at full speed, knocking you down. You fell on your back, protecting Tonya, and hit your head badly. Your vision blurred, a piercing whistling going in your ears. You couldn't even understand the position of your body, but you felt how Tonya was shaking you, trying to bring you to your senses. You closed your eyes and her hands disappeared, so you opened them with great effort, yet it was so slow you saw only someone taking her away. You groaned and rolled over on your stomach, clenched into frozen ground and crawled. A bloody stain was left where your head laid.

You stood up on shaking legs, your head was pulsating with pain, making it more difficult to keep balance. In the distance you heard screams and roars. You looked down – snow was crimson with blood, and mutilated corpses with missing limbs and ripped out internal organs filled the street. The horrific scene made you feel uneasy at your stomach, yet it brought you back to a normal state, the pain didn't feel so intense anymore.

“Tonya!” You screamed, tearing your throat, but it was muffled by the deafening ringing of the church bell. You screamed again, hoping that she would give you a sign. You didn't care that you could attract the werewolf – it was the execution for sins, the fair end for non-believers and the retribution for the reckless deeds of your father. You were pure, but if in your destiny you were meant to die this night, you would meet your end with no fear. “Tonya!”

A shuffle started in the hangar and you rushed to check on it. Tonya looked from her hideout behind the straw bale. “I'm here…” she whispered and you fell on your knees in front of her, hugging her tightly. Tonya was shaking and crying, clinging to you – she was afraid that you died, but was too scared to go out and look for help. You were her last hope to keep her sanity clear.

“Hold on brave. Pray, Tonya. This is the only thing we can do.” You covered her ears, when there was a scream.

“What if Teucer, mommy?..” She didn't finish the sentence as tears made her throat spasm.

“We are pure, Tonya. Nothing will happen to us.” You cooed, caressing her back. Heavy steps behind the hangar made you strain. You stood up to check on what was going on and froze, when you saw a werewolf in front of you.

Tonya followed you and screamed after she looked from behind you back. For your whole life, you imagined a werewolf as a scary large wolf, but your imagination deceived you. It was a deformed ugly beast of a colossal size – it filled a big part of the hangar, making it impossible to leave. It had light fur, clumped with blood, its large mouth was full of teeth and long canines that protruded from the muzzle even when it was closed. Enormous paws were bigger than your head. Its blue eyes had no shine and looked wild, bloodthirsty. Its whole figure combined both features of human and beast in the most disturbing way: wolfish, yet still human muzzle with too sensible eyes and even emotions on it; beastly, yet humanly flexible body with long limbs. You made a step back, shielding Tonya.

“I know you want to save the faith, keeper of traditions.” The werewolf spoke to you, and you gasped in disbelief. For a moment you decided that it was a lie, an illusion of an inflamed brain, but it was true: the werewolf came closer, his muzzle up to your face, which made you back away in disgust. “Now it's time for you to perform your duty. You will go with me. I will be back in three days, waiting for you in a hollow. Keep silent about our conversation. Fail – and I'll kill everyone without mercy.”

Your eyes rounded and your breathing turned heavy. Did he mean you have to sacrifice yourself? You would do so immediately, if Tonya wasn't there… or was it just an excuse? You were exposed to death and nemesis that merged and embodied in the face of the Saint you worshiped, but you were filled with dread. You didn't want to die – only a look at ugly muzzle made tears pour down your eyes even though you didn't want to cry. It was an honor to die for your God, sacrifice yourself in order to save the whole village, but you weren't ready. Yet you nodded, and the werewolf roared, then retreated, moving his limbs like a spider.

Tonya clung on your coat, but you were standing frozen, trying to process everything that happened a moment before. Suddenly you regained composure, took Tonya up your hands and left the hangar. The whole village fell into dead silence: people were too scared to go outside and sat in safety, waiting for sunrise. The fair burnt out. By a miracle the fire didn't spread to the whole village and caused minor damage.

In the distance you saw Aether running from one house to another, searching for you. You wanted to scream for him, but couldn't – your voice betrayed you, letting out only a wheeze, so you headed to him, then your fast steps turned into running.

“By Archons!” Aether took Tonya from your tired hands carefully, his wide palm brushed hair fell on her face to check for wounds. “Are you both alright?”

The pain in your nape made you grimace. You were recovering from shock, and felt exhausted to the point of losing conscience. “Where's Teucer? And mom?”

“They are safe, hiding in the church with everyone else.” Aether shooed at Tonya, who started tossing and turning in his embrace, as she heard of another sibling. You looked at him with a gaze full of endless gratitude. “I… I wanted to say I'm sorry for my behavior. I've been vulgar… I just got too excited to know you better. I promise, I'll be a different man to you.”

“It's okay, Aether, everyone makes mistakes.” You didn't know what else to answer. His confession was so inappropriate, yet so sincere you couldn't let yourself break a rush of his soul. Maybe he was afraid he would die unforgiven and there was fear speaking through him at the moment – you didn't know, and you didn't want to know.

Ajax showed up on the street, bewildered at the scene in front of him. He bypassed corpses and puddles of blood, looking at it with interest. “What happened there?”

“A massacre!” Aether blurted angrily. “Where were you when all of this happened?!”

You looked at Ajax, then at Aether, not realizing the point of his outrage.

“He was at grandmother's. Why?” You shouted, a burning feeling in your chest, as you felt Aether tried to implicate Ajax in cowardice. Aether's eyes widened as he didn't expect you to snap at him.

“You chose the wrong time to fight.” Ajax stood between you and him, stopping the argument. “We have to carry Tonya home.”

Tonya pulled her hands to Ajax, and he took her from Aether with envy.

The night went like a fever dream and the morning after was even worse. From the earliest hour the mourning for the dead started and the whole village split in two radical opinions: old believers and traitors. The first demanded to send out the outlander and pray for forgiveness, then return back to original faith and worship the true God without looking back at Archons. Traitors claimed that the night revealed a true devilish nature of the former religion and recommended killing the beast and praying to the Seven. You took the responsibility and came to the crowd to declare the side of your family – as a keeper, you were wearing a red cloak with a hood, so people could see you easily. You tried to preach to the people, but most of them didn't want to listen to you. Crowd was screaming at you and calling you out to beg for forgiveness for every killed and explain why your family was safe and sound during the night. You were shocked to the point you lost your words, on which the crowd reacted with anger. Old believers, who were supporting you fully, started shouting insults at traitors; traitors lost their temper and started a fight. The brawl ended after Ajax took his rifle and made a couple of warning shots.

Even in one home there was a conflict of interests. Mother, Ajax and you chose the point of old believers, while father and Aether were insisting on the opposite. Aether was determined to take you and younger siblings to the capital, and father agreed with him. Father scolded you in front of all the family for your attempt to admonish the villagers, it was the first time he screamed at you. Yet it didn't last for long: Ajax jumped out from behind your back and seized father by the collar. You tried to pull Ajax back, but mother stopped you.

“He deserved this,” she whispered to you, looking at the scene with cold eyes. Mother had no pity towards her husband, her heavy hand was laying on your shoulder to prevent even a smallest attempt from you to stop Ajax: he was about to fight father, and for the first time father fend for himself and punched Ajax in his nose.

Aether tried to help father and in a moment the conflict changed its focus from religious controversies to jealousy over you. Madness that covered the village, made you fall on your knees and start praying, as there was nothing else left for you to do.

Disputes were lasting for the whole morning, until mother asked Ajax to go check on grandmother with her. You begged mother to go with Ajax instead of her – you loved grandmother dearly and didn't see her for ages. Despite her age she was lively, yet the way from her cabin to the village was too hard for her to go, so your family brought her provisions every month and visited her from time to time. Mother denied you, and they left the house.

Ajax and mother were coming through the dunes of snow and fallen trees in silence, as Ajax was depressed and only sniffed viciously, wiping away his nose the blood that was still flowing. Grandmother wasn't happy to see them together – it meant that something was coming off of the plan. She gave Ajax a long hug and a few kisses on his forehead.

“What happened to the boy?” Grandmother spat on the floor disgustedly.

“Stuck into a fight for the love of his life,” mother answered with a sneer, then clicked her tongue in irritation. “They're gonna drive me crazy. Everything goes wrong. Did you talk to her as a werewolf? What did she tell you?”

Ajax frowned. “Nothing. She was silent.”

“I don't think there will be any trouble with our dove,” grandmother squinted her eyes. “But with this capital's bastard, yes. I told you not to marry the village's elder. I hope now you understand why.”

“It was the only way for me to save Ajax after his father's death! There were times of hunger and stagnation, and he, as an elder, had always had a piece of bread at his table. How was I supposed to care for Ajax, hunt and birth other children for our plan?!” Mother cried. “And then I had to make them… fuck each other in order to save the bloodline! Do you think it's easy?”

“Yes, it is.” Grandmother stated, ignoring her daughter's roar. “I was able to marry a werewolf from another clan, but my sister had to lay with our brother, and she lived a happier life than I did. Unfortunately, after those seven usurpers appeared, they killed them all.”

“But she is half human… is it really going to work out?” Ajax said, finding his voice.

“You are worrying too much,” grandmother laughed at Ajax's perplexed face. “Yes, it will work after the ritual, dear. Just do it without thinking.”

“How can you say this?” Ajax was on the verge of tears. “Why does it have to be this way?!”

“Because this is the rules of our world. The world we inherited from our God. Keep your head up, Ajax. Don't worry about me and don't pity me. I lived my life here.” Grandmother laughed with a dry old voice.

“No!..” Ajax's hands started shaking. “What if she refuses… How is she supposed to react to that?!”

“Then we will kill her and wait for Tonya to grow up.” Mother stared intently at Ajax. Shivers ran down his spine at only thought of losing you and going through the same events again, but with Tonya.

“You are being too pessimistic.” Grandmother gave up on her and trotted to the cabinet. She took a vial from it and passed it to Ajax. “Three drops into her drink twice a day and she will be fine. Don't thank me.”

You ran away from the home and hid in the church, praying without pause. Blindfolded by your pride you thought of yourself as a holier than holies, when in reality you craved a vile sin of incestuous passion and hubris.

Aether tried his best to save his sanity, but he was on the limit. He was on the point of losing everything: starting with marriage and ending with his life – danger made him play reckless. Your presence was the only escape from that horror. He took you home from the church: you tried to stay, but Aether just grabbed you by your hand roughly and drew you out on the street. Aether felt that you were vulnerable – the perfect world you used to live in was falling apart, so his treatment became rough. From day to day you were more depressed and taciturn, you didn't react to his attempts to seek your affection and gave him meaningless kisses and hugs, lacking life and passion. Your despair drowned Aether in negative emotions as well, made him take love from you violently. He felt so useless, so unwanted here, it brought him so much pain he had never felt in his entire life. You were unfairly cruel to him – you made him burn with love and jealousy to your brother, who was basked in your care and support. Sometimes Aether thought that you loved Ajax like a man, but he didn't want to believe in it – Aether was so much better than him: Aether had power, money and glory; the fairest women from the capital were fighting for his attention, but he chose you. You should be grateful to him, you should fall on your knees and kiss his hands to express proper gratitude for his choice. You were no one, nothing, a descendant of some freaky family who worshiped a false God, yet you got arrogance suitable for a royal heir. Aether could do nothing with you, so he started to hate you. You rejected him – he would do even worse to you. He sacrificed so much for you, while you did nothing to please him back. Aether was done with it.

Despite the fact that you didn't want to escape, you were trapped in the village. Ajax made sure that you wouldn't be able to leave. Mother took care of Aether's horses – all of them were dead, and other horses in the village ran away or died in the Blood Moon massacre, cutting off all the possible ways of leaving. Clashes of believers didn't bother Ajax, but he had to participate in the religious processions to convince non-believers to return to their roots.

The night of the third day started. Tortured by his mind, Aether woke up and got to the kitchen to have a glass of water. It was dead of night, while everyone was sleeping and only chanting of priests could be heard from the street. Aether looked at the impenetrable darkness of the forest through the window. His vision started tunneling and he heard whispers. Suddenly Aether shivered and rubbed his eyes, then he heeded – and heard Ajax's voice. On his tiptoes, Aether followed the voice and happened into the corridor that led to the storeroom. The door was slightly open, so he peeked through the gap. He saw Ajax holding your face in his barbarian palms tremulously, and kissing you hastily.

“I don't care anymore!” Ajax snuggled to you, pressing you to his body like a doll.

“You know I will always love you. Why do you have to bring it now? We should go back… Ajax, please!” You pleaded, but he interrupted you with a desperate and impulsive kiss.

Aether froze, stunned, broken and disgusted. He didn't think of breaking your intimacy – Aether mercifully let you enjoy the last time you had Ajax in your arms. He watched Ajax rudely showing his hands under your skirts and destroy your fake shyness. Something made Aether stay and watch how Ajax was ravaging his bride. He wasn't gentle at all: Ajax tore your blouse so his hands could touch your breasts; pinching at your nipples, Ajax silenced your moans with his kisses.

Ajax knew Aether was watching. He smelled him long before he showed up in the corridor, but Ajax didn't care – on the contrary, he liked it. It was a simple way to show dominance to another male. Foreplay didn't last for long: Ajax was dying to have you, abstinence was mixed with approaching mating season, so he turned you to the wall and pressed on your back, to make you bend. Ajax unzipped his pants and put his fully erected cock inside you slowly, holding you by your hips. After making sure that you were okay, he took a fast steady rhythm. Ajax put all his frustration and desire to breed pounding into you. He needed to finish quickly not to wake someone from the family up, but he just couldn't have enough – he wanted much more than a quick fuck, his mind was clouded with wild arousal. Your wet cunt and shaky breaths mixed with his fantasies about you being pregnant with his children drove him insane. You were as needy as him, but the timing couldn't let you enjoy the moment the way you wanted. Your pussy was spasming around Ajax only to make him cum faster. Soon he came, filling you with his seed and fucking it further inside you. Aether left, while Ajax was helping you to clean yourself.

On the third day the village was covered with fights. No one could stay aside: fanatics involved kids even, so mother was hiding inside the house with Teucer and Tonya, while father and priests tried to calm everyone down. You looked at the crowd, embraced with fury, and doubted your decision of self-sacrifice. It would be better to destroy them, then build a new society from the ashes. Still, you said goodbye to Teucer and Tonya, gave a kiss to your mother, put on your red cloak and left the house, when the first star appeared in the sky. Ajax was absent for the whole day – you didn't want to go without talking to him, but you couldn't wait anymore. Immersed in your grief, you didn't notice Aether, who was following you with a shotgun behind his back.

You came to the hollow. Every step you made felt impossible and heavy, your heart couldn't keep a steady rhythm. When you were far away from the village, Aether took aim and made a shot. You screamed louder than he expected you to, and disturbed birds went up in the air with cawing. Aether grimaced – instead of killing you, he got you in leg. You fell on the snow, with your hand keeping pressure on the wound.

You looked back, and another shot followed, but it got into the tree, dangerously close to your head.

“Aether?..” You screamed in surprise. “Why?!”

“You know why.” Aether brought his gun up to his shoulder and pressed one the trigger, but nothing happened. He laughed maniacally and threw it aside. “You are a lucky one.”

“Werewolf will be here anytime! It'll kill us both!” Through pain and tears, you tried to come up with everything to save your life. Aether smiled widely and approached you.

“Archons, have mercy on her,” His voice thundered in between the trees. You tried to crawl away, but he stepped on your leg, piercing it to the ground, then kicked you in the chest, turning you over on your back. It seemed like Aether reveled in your scream, full of painful agony. “Do you know what they do in the Capital for incest? Execute.”

Aether sat on your hips, and grabbed your neck compressing it so hard your bones cracked. “Your father promised me a perfect woman, a dream of every man, and you seemed like one. Until I saw you and that bastard together.”

You tried to fight back, but it didn't help. Your vision got black and you felt that the pressure on your neck was unbearable. Just a little more and it would snap. His delirious rantings stuck in your head as a dull, repetitive echo.

A guttural roar sounded almost in your ear. Suddenly all the pressure was gone, your vision came back in unusually vivid colors. You closed your eyes, but unbearable pain and shortage of air made you open them. You breathed in avidly, gasping for cold air with your mouth and your chest felt like burning. You looked at the wound on your leg, it seemed like a bullet went through your body, making it even worse. An ugly torn mess of flesh and blood made you nauseous. Aether's scream made you search for him with your eyes, and you noticed his legs twitching under the werewolf’s body. Blood was gushing everywhere. Werewolf let go of the remains after his scream stopped and rushed to you. You looked at what was left and gasped: one of Aether's hands was missing, his lower jaw was torn off and all his body was covered in bites and lacerated wounds.

“Get on top of me,” it spoke to you and laid to aid you. You sat on the werewolf without wasting words, and it ran into the depths of the forest.

Soon you realized that you stopped at grandmother's cabin. You dismounted in disbelief and came closer to the door, then glanced back. Instead of a werewolf, you had seen Ajax in front of you. Puzzle in your head had formed into a whole picture, still you were taken aback. You would better believe that all of it was a delusion, a floating vision or just a fantasy.

“Why didn't you tell me?” You asked, but Ajax took your hand and walked you into the cabin.

“You chose the wrong time to ask. Sit.” Ajax was nervous, twitching. He put you on the chair and placed a bowl with something that seemed to be soup. “Eat this. Now.”

He sat in front of you and watched your every move with wide, insane eyes. You looked at the dish with suspicion and took a spoon unwillingly. It was too red, with pieces of lightly fried meat and boiled potato. You took a piece of the meat with a soup and some potato, and placed it into your mouth. The broth was impossible to eat, as it was too bitter and salty, and had a jellied structure. The meat was horribly tough and wiry. You felt vomit coming up to your mouth and wanted to spit that meat out, but Ajax ordered you to swallow in such a rough tone you shrugged and swallowed it in fear. You covered your mouth, trying not to puke, but you felt uneasy in your stomach and your throat started to spasm.

“Don't you dare do this!” Ajax jumped up from his seat and ran to you, pressing your hands to your mouth with his. “Don't waste it!”

His voice broke from deep to pitching, it was full of despair and resembled a lament.

“Why?! What is happening here?!” You drew his hands away, screaming, tears running down your face. “Where is grandma?!”

Ajax just gave you a blank stare, your face fell. You looked at him in disbelief, then another wave of hysteria covered you.

“Where is she?..” You went white at realization. The room fell silent for a moment then you cried out.

Ajax was confused. Grandmother promised that one bite would be enough, but he wanted to make sure and force you to eat more. All that was left of her was a bowl of soup, and you looked at it with dead eyes, as you tried to deny the truth. Ajax got you a glass of water with three drops of the potion. You drank it in one gulp and stared at the soup again.

“How could you do this?” You asked without looking at Ajax.

“Grandmother ordered me to do so. I had no other choice.” Ajax sat near you and took a spoon, then filled it with the soup. “Please, open your mouth. You need to finish this.”

Ajax couldn't look at you crying and being so broken. In one day you aged up on years from all the events that happened to you. Your wound wasn't treated yet and still caused you pain, but it couldn't compare with your storming emotions and grief. It was an inhuman and gruesome act of violence. You didn't even say goodbye to grandmother before she died in such a horrible way.

Slowly you started feeling tranquil. Your head clouded and all the senses dazed. Ajax managed to feed you the whole bowl. You watched him without interest and just sat in your place, before you fell asleep.

You woke up from a horrible dream, but found yourself in grandmother's bedroom. Your leg hurt, remembering you, that everything you saw in a dream was real. You just laid on the bed, looking at the ceiling and trying to accept what had happened. It wasn't easy at all and you didn't even want to leave the bed to search for Ajax. Was it planned by God? Was it your initial role you were created for? You got too many questions, but had no answers.

The whole week passed before you were ready to meet Ajax. You noticed that your sense of smell was keener and your hearing improved. You could hear Ajax walking in the house and detect in which part of it he was exactly. Bedroom was the back room of the house, so normally you wouldn't be able to smell freshly prepared food, and now you could smell it as if you were staying near the stove. To your surprise, your wound healed in a couple of days and left only a hardly visible scar.

Ajax gave you time for yourself and didn't bother you this week. Being alone did him good: he too let go of his worries and became mentally stronger. He wanted to explain everything to you and hoped you were ready to hear him. The story wasn't long: Ajax told you that mother and him were the direct descendants of the werewolf family that founded the village. Unfortunately, his father died and mother had to remarry to a human, hiding her true identity even from her children, as all the other werewolves were killed by Archons and their followers. To continue the bloodline, living heirs, you and him, had to inbreed, but your half-human origin was the sticking point: to awaken the werewolf genes and pass them to your kids you had to devour someone from your family, and grandmother volunteered. Yet you couldn't transform and had a limited number of abilities from being a werewolf.

You accepted the truth calmly, and your reaction frightened you. You didn't know was it normal or not. At least it made sense. You didn't want to think about it anymore and wanted to adapt to a new lifestyle quickly.

Ajax and you lived solitary, no one visited you, and you didn't come close to the village as well, leaving old life behind. It was hard to you to get used to Ajax's werewolf form, so Ajax tried to spend more time with you as a beast.

Ajax licked your face, and you giggled from the tingling. His tongue was nicely warm, yet covered in sticky saliva. It didn't scare you when he was this playful. When you were in the mood to have fun, you licked his nose back and hugged him, nuzzling into his soft fur. It wasn't rare for you to fall asleep on him, as his body was soothingly warm.

Intimacy became unusual due to Ajax's new size. Stroking his body, like you usually did, you were slowly letting your hand down to his cock. Kissing was strange: Ajax licked your lips and showed his long tongue inside, caressing the insides of your mouth with it. Your hand was stroking his cock gently, circling against the tip lightly and putting force at the shaft. Ajax was already leaking, so you broke the kiss and bent to his awaiting cock. Starting with licking the tip, you spitted on it, easing the slide, and took it inside your mouth. It was bigger, making it harder for you to suck him, but you tried to stroke other parts with your hands and rubbed on the knot to save the pleasure. Ajax felt his knot swelling, so he didn't let you to continue. His animalistic impulses told him to fuck you and he had no power to resist them. Ajax made you lay on your back, his tongue licked your pussy, prepping you for penetration. It swirled over your clit, sliding down to your hole, rubbing with pleasurable roughness. As a werewolf, Ajax scented your pheromones and your special smell, that busted his arousal. He noticed you biting your lower lip in anticipation and he didn't wait anymore. Ajax thrusted inside, your long moan made him catch a faster and rougher pace immediately. His beastly cock made you feel your insides stretching to accommodate the size. You were full of him and there was no escape from the pleasure, as your mind went blank, making you focus only on the sensation of being pulled on his cock. Ajax licked your face, and it ignited you, your moans became louder. You felt breathless in ecstatic bliss, every skim of the big tip of his cock through your folds made you move your hips for more. Your fingers reached down to your clit and you started rubbing it, as you felt that you were about to cum. Ajax made a powerful thrust and filled you fully with his knot just before he finished inside, groaning. Your pussy sucked him in fully, clenching and trembling around his cock. At the sensation of his hot thick cum stretching your womb you came next, your orgasm spurting around him. You were exhausted and breathed heavily, yet again you felt Ajax loading new portion of cum inside. He came several times, until your lower tummy bulged, only after that knotting ended.

During mating season Ajax didn't let you escape the bed. He didn't have enough of you both in human and werewolf forms, it was up to you to decide how you wanted to accept him. You were so full of his seed the bulge on your lower tummy didn't disappear for days and cum was leaking out of you whenever you didn't expect it to. Ajax made sure to give your pussy a relaxing massage, rubbing gently your insides and your clit at the same time. Curling his fingers he pressed knuckles against the most sensitive parts inside you, instantly felt your folds covering them. Ajax sucked on your nipples, licking them slowly, while his fingers penetrated your sopping hole. As a human Ajax was way more gentle: he gave you sensual kisses, lazily playing with your tongue, stroked the smooth skin of your belly, imagining it to be swollen with his pups. Ajax was the happiest man on Teyvat, as he had you by his side. The bond you shared with him was sacred, Ajax would kill anyone to protect you, the center of his world. Your embrace made him feel alive, he didn't need anything more, but to press his face at the crook of your neck and just inhale your sweet scent.

Ajax's dreams were destined to come true. Every time he was back home, his children ran to hug him, and you, pregnant with another kid, hurried to give him a kiss.

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Lisichka

Request: Hii ! I hope it's okay to request Tartaglia and (a very shy) childhood!reader reuniting after many years and pining for one another? Reader knows him very well so they're not rlly shy around him...until they developed a crush on him. Which makes them timid and mildly awkward around him, and it really shows more and more. I had a thought of what if Tartaglia also has a crush on them around the same time? I hope this is okay and have a good one! ♡

Summary: Tartaglia returns home after fighting the narwhal. You try to avoid him, unwilling to face your crush after so many years, but he manages to meet with you anyway.

Note: Lisichka means little fox

cw: none

Word Count: 1081

Tartaglia x gn!reader

“Have you heard? Ajax is back.”

You’re walking around the local market when you catch wind of the first rumors. The speaker--one of the old women who spend every market day discussing everything from local drama to the contents of this month's delivery of various newspapers--speaks in a hushed voice.

“That’s only news, Marya. My husband has already been to Lev and Anya’s place. Ajax looked pretty beat up.”

If Marya’s question hadn’t caught your attention, the second speaker would have. 

You lift your groceries and approach Marya and Elizaveta.

“Ajax is back?”

Elizaveta gives you a measuring look. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. You spent so much time with the boy before Lev sent him off to join the Fatui.”

“You mean until they started avoiding him.?”

“Yes, yes. And blushing like---”

“I’ve been helping around my grandparent’s house,” you blurt. “So no, I hadn’t heard.”

Elizaveta chuckles. “In that case, yes, Ajax has come home. You should go visit him. I’m sure you’ll make his day.”

“I’m not sure he’d remember me.”

“Nonsense. I’d put money on the opposite being true.”

You sigh and tighten your scarf around your neck. “I’ll think about it. But I still have shopping to do. Have a good day, Mrs. Marya, Mrs. Elizaveta.”

Several days later, you walk up the path to Ajax’s home, a heavily wrapped pot of soup cradled in your arms.

A boy with a shock of red hair sits on the porch with a toy ruin guard in hand.

“Good day, Teucer. Is your mother around?”

Teucer looks up and grins. “Big Brother! Y/N is here!”

“Teucer,” you groan, “I’m not here to see Ajax. In fact, please give this to your mother. Tell her Katia sends her regards and that we hope Ajax gets well soon.”

You place the soup next to Teucer and hurries back down the path.

This was such a bad idea, you think to yourself. I can’t ever keep a straight face when he’s concerned.

Ajax steps out of the house, smiling into the collar of his thick, woolen coat.

Unbeknownst to you, the young harbinger watched the entire thing.

He picks up the soup and looks down at Teucer. “Did you say thank you?”

“I didn’t have a chance,” Teucer pouts. “Why are they acting so weird?”

Tartaglia laughs. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

A few days later, you find yourself sitting on the bank of a lake. 

You keep your eyes trained on the hole you made and the line disappearing into the water.

This is the only place in town where there aren’t curious looks and questions about Ajax’s health. It’s the one place where you don;t have to be reminded that after so many years of being his friend, you’re now too cowardly to meet him face to face.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t hear the snow crunch behind you, though the footsteps are soft enough that it could be any small animal.

“Lisichka, Lisichka. Are you done running from me?”

The familiar nickname startles you out of your reverie.

You turn, ever so slowly, to find a pair of bright blue eyes twinkling at you.

“I never ran from you.”

Ajax sits next to you. “Are you sure about that, Lisichka? I recall that before I left to join Fatui, you wouldn’t look me in the eye. And I saw you run from my house the other day.”

“I---”

“Got a bite yet?” Ajax changes the topic of conversation, much to your relief.

“No. Not yet. Though I might not, now that your pretty face is here.”

“If a pretty face is all it takes to scare off the fish, you must never catch a thing.”

You open your mind to reply, only for your brain to finally register your words and his reply.

“I--- How are you feeling, Ajax? I heard you were hurt.”

This time you’re the one to change topics, though you’re certain he’s aware that it’s a desperate attempt to keep from addressing the proverbial bear in the room.

Tartaglia holds out a hand and you frown at the clear tremor. “Fontaine was a little rough,” he admits. “I don’t recommend fighting a whale for a couple months.”

“A whale? How do you fight a whale?”

“Not easily. And I lost miserably. I don’t like Fontaine’s Iudex--though I want to fight him again one day---, but I’m not sure I’d have survived if he and the traveler hadn’t intervened.”

“You were never careful with yourself,” you comment. “Even less so after your three day disappearance.”

Ajax huffs. “This wasn’t my fault. There was a lot of weird stuff going on.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure. You know you go looking for trouble and when you aren’t it has a habit of finding you.”

“You know me so well, my Lisichka.”

“I thought we were too old for pet names like that, Ajax.”

“Says who? You were my Lisichka when we were kids. Why can’t you be now?” 

You raise your eyes to the sky, where the constellations lay hidden.

“Because if you keep using pet names like that, I’m going to get the impression that you’re not just a childhood friend.”

Ajax reaches over and cups your cheek, turning your face so that your eyes meet his. “If you did I would be awfully happy. I’ve been trying to get your attention for years.”

“You mean…”

“Silly fox, I have liked you for a while now.”

“I bet I’ve liked you longer.”

“You wanna bet?”

Tartaglia tosses your fishing rod to the side and opens his arms to you. “Will you be mine?”

You let him pull you close, brows furrowing when the movement makes him stiffen. You rest a hand on his shoulder, feeling the bandages that deform his sweater.

“Of course, but please, please be more careful.”

“I love you, Lisichka, but I can’t make that promise.”

“I know. It was worth asking.”

As you start to doze in the safety, you can’t help but ask, “Why Lisichka?”

Ajax laughs, smiling into your hair. “Because, a teenage me had no other way to flirt with his best friend and you looked so cute playing in the snow.”

You join him in laughter. “I guess you win.”

“Oh?”

“I started running from you because I realized that I wanted it to be more.”

You yawn, eyes fluttering shut.

“Sleep, Lisichka. I will be here when you wake.”

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 14

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn

cw ; mentions of scars (edit: im a fucking idiot i forgot they talk abt scars at the start of the chapter) and like… brief dottore mention, so u know it’s icky. also u guys will be mad at me.

notes ; AHHH!!!!! I LIVE!!!!! oh gosh so many hectic life events lately….. i hadnt been able to get my hands on this dang chapter for so long

anyhow, i was planning to publish this one early like a day or two ago with a reference to an arlecchino voiceline that was THEN a leak and not out yet, so i’m glad i waited and developed this one just a little more LOL

also good luck with everyone’s arle pulls!!! (better luck than mine i hope ;w;) just like childe and the reader at some point, WANTERS WILL BE HAVERS ‼️

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“agh— be more gentle!”

“i’ll be more gentle if you stop flinching away. you’re a war machine who can turn into an abyssal beast, withstand how draining it is to use it, hold your ground against a champion duelist but you can’t handle a little cotton ball soaked in alcohol?”

“well there’s no adrenaline anymore to remedy this sting, now, is there?”

it’s almost comically reminiscent of your meeting with childe back in zapolyarny palace, where he got himself hurt just to come tell you that he was to leave for liyue— feels like it was ages ago. childe leans against the elegant marble counter of your hotel room’s bathroom, pile of bloodied cottons and tissues piling by his hands, while you clean the fresh wounds he’s just acquired from clorinde.

from how much he flinches and hisses, the wounds almost seem grave… but they’re no more than a few scratches, slashes and bruises. after his witty remark, you can only attribute his absurd resilience during battle to the mentioned adrenaline— otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as he has with those reactions of his.

“so did you get what you wanted from that spar? how was it in comparison to your other tries?”

childe pauses thoughtfully and proceeds to pout.

“…i think she was still holding back. i need another spar.”

“gh-! are you kidding?! childe tartaglia ajax, i am not letting you resplit the forehead i just fixed up anytime soon.”

he sighs melancholy like a grounded child, but nods in agreement anyhow. childe’s eyes remain downward, he mindlessly fiddles with the hem of your shirt as he awaits patiently for you to finish tending to his wounds. once you finish, you scan him up and down to certify that you’ve taken care of everything, until your gaze is caught by his scars.

his war medals.

he’s got an insurmountable amount of them scattered all over his body and not one is like the other— some are large lashes most likely caused by weapons like axes or claymores; some are finer lines caused by swords or daggers; a few of them even look like different types of burns, likely the work of varied elemental catalysts; and some look like small stars or circles, probably the result of arrows or the tips of polearms.

the inches of his skin that his scars don’t cover are littered with the tiniest specs of freckles… ones you’ve barely had the privilege to see over the years as a result of living in eternally cold lands. it’s only been since you’ve both been to warmer regions like liyue, inazuma and now fontaine that you’ve began to notice them.

and you’ve found that the intricate, graceful tapestry that childe’s scars and freckles weave is… gorgeous.

it’s so uniquely mesmerizing that you nearly struggle to find a worthy comparison within words or the world around you. the closest one would be to a starry sky— you imagine that his freckles become the stars that remain stationary and furthest away in the night sky, small and bountiful, while his scars are the shooting stars that flash by in a vivid explosion of light.

it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.

you’ve realized that you’re less afraid to admit this to yourself now. perhaps spending so much constant time with childe after such a while of misencounters and diverging schedules, has made you become more comfortable around him— to the point where you barely minded him childishly playing with the hem of your shirt. it feels fine, domestic even… almost in the same way that a coup—

“hey, why’re you staring so hard? am i not gonna make it, doc?”

you flinch as you’re snapped away from your train of thought, taking in how childe’s eyes flicker worriedly over your face. unfortunately, your mind isn’t freed from the grasp of your thoughts of… admiration and your gaze quickly flies over his scars once again. the delicacy of the moment, unexpectedly, fuels you with enough confidence to raise forward a hand that lightly grazes a particularly eye-catching gash on childe’s neck— the stretched healed skin ever so slightly bumping against your digits.

“nothing… j’st looking at your scars.” you answer absentmindedly.

beneath your hand, you feel his adam’s apple raise in a hearty gulp. next, childe inhales deeply and exhales a shuddered breath, as if an attempt to ground himself.

“what about ‘em?” he whispers expectantly.

“i like them.”

it’s as if you’ve gotten the liquid courage of a drink while being entirely sober, you’re surprised that you’ve done so much as let yourself say that out loud. though perhaps… that bewilderment might just be your downfall— within the thought, you notice just how close you and childe stand before each other. he leans against the bathroom counter in only the deep red undershirt of his uniform, eyes laser-guided onto your every move while you’re only a hair’s length away from him. his absurd height doesn’t help the moment either, as he’s forced to hunch over and his figure arches forward into you— it’s suffocating.

you can’t allow yourself to crumble and panic right now, it would absolutely destroy you for the rest of your life, so you opt to breathe deeply. childe watches intently as you do and returns it with his own deep sigh, one that you feel hit your face warmly the moment it leaves his lips and so it further capitalizes on just how obscenely close the two of you are— to the point where you breathe each other’s air.

childe’s piercing azure eyes move from matching your own to slightly further down on your face…

to your lips.

“yeah?” he mumbles in the most delicate tone possible, it’s not like you’re too far to hear anyway.

it’s an inexplicable magnetic pull that brings you the smidgenmost closer to him, it has to be so. it must be that same pull that brings you to look at his mouth— plump and pink, likely still store from the split at the corner of his bottom lip. and there’s no other possibility other than that damned magnet as to why your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, childe’s shyly snaking around your waist in response.

you don’t feel like you’re in a bathroom in a hotel room in fontaine anymore, you don’t feel like the seconds pass anymore. it’s a pocket between space and time that has enveloped the two of you, away from everything else.

and there’s nothing in this world left to do other than to lean just a breath closer to each other… just a little more and—

knock knock knock knock!

you flinch away faster than lightning, heart thudding ironically like thunder. childe also seems to have been entirely spooked by the knocks on the bedroom door and he pretends to bring his hand up to scratch something on his face, but you know very well he means to hide his glaringly flushed face— you know that because you do the very same, only you briskly step away to open the door instead.

outside the room, two fontainian officers greet you, though they seemingly go wide eyed for just a brief second as if you’re not who they expect to answer.

“forgive me, friend, this is… mr. tartaglia’s room, is it not?” one inquires.

you frown in suspicion, and you plan to not directly confirm the question as to pry exactly what business two policemen would have with childe. unfortunately, the devil decides to announce it himself by coming up behind you, arms crossed defensively.

“and what might be the problem, officer?” childe asks pointedly.

both officers simultaneously eye the two of you, the blushing idiots opening the door together, and proceed to share a knowing look. the first officer sighs while the second clears his throat awkwardly.

“we apologize for… intruding so abruptly but— mr. tartaglia, you are currently being suspected of being the culprit behind the serial disappearances of young women case. for the time being, you are under arrest and must face trial at the opera epiclese to make your case.”

…what.

“what?”

coincidentally, both you and childe exclaim at the same time— though, childe’s tone is rather condescendingly skeptical while yours is laced with pure, unadulterated shock.

the harbinger scoffs. “well, i can very confidently tell you right now that i didn’t do it.”

yeah, great way to clear any and all suspicion, man.

frustratedly pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to help you process the last five seconds, you sigh.

“i-i think what he means to say, officer, is that it’s not plausible for him to even be a suspect in this case. i mean— if i remember correctly, doesn’t that case extend for over twenty years? we’ve only been in fontaine for a few weeks! you can check our travel tickets, they’re dated. plus, we haven’t done anything even remotely disruptive while we’ve been here, both of us have multiple reliable alibi’s regarding our whereabouts over the past few days, and—“

the officer puts up a dismissive hand, effectively interrupting you. “please, leave this for the iudex to hear.”

a metallic jingling catches your attention and you see that the second policeman wordlessly produces handcuffs from his tool belt, the panic bubbles in your throat even further. childe’s shoulders visibly tense and it’s clear that he’s intent on fighting back— with once again lighting fast reflexes, you put a hand on his shoulder and throw him a warning look as a means to discreetly impede him. childe sighs frustratedly but ceases anyhow, allowing himself to be guided out of the room. out of pure illogical desperation, you chase after.

“don’t say anything hostile or stupid until we find you a lawyer! i promise you i’ll be right behind!” you call out as the three are at the other end of the hallway and catch a final look from childe, the emotion behind it is indescribable.

your chest feels overwhelmingly tight.

—

who knew such a resplendent room could be so suffocating.

it feels as though you’ve been waiting for an eternity and the intended comfort of the opera eplicese’s waiting room only serves to unnerve you more. the most important person in your life has just been abruptly accused of being a serial kidnapper and you’re supposed to indulge in sickeningly sweet pastries and tasteless tea? it’s almost derogatory.

your leg has become sore from how much it bounces restlessly, your nail plates scratchy from how much you fidget with them, all the paper napkins on the table sloppily folded into failed paper stars. none of it helps.

you can’t even decide what to worry about, all of it swirls and spirals in your head like a rumbling tornado. is he okay? are the officers treating him well? who will defend him? will he go to prison? for how long? when in the tsaritsa’s name will arlecchino retur—

the door slams open and you jump, partially with the abruptness of it and out of sheer panic to get some news on the situation. your heart starts palpitating again and it takes everything within your willpower to seem more put together in front of the knave.

“s-so?” you ask with an uncontrollable shake in voice.

“it’s invariable, childe must face trial and defend himself. we can only count on the factuality that he is innocent and the oratrice will say accordingly.”

you sigh, at least… whatever in the archons’ name constitutes that machine is infallible.

“the trial starts in five minutes.” arlecchino adds curtly.

you nod and allow yourself to take a deep, grounding breathe before standing up to leave the waiting room. as your hand reaches out to the doorknob, there is a firm grip on your shoulder. you turn ever so slightly to find a pointy-nailed, stark black hand holding you back— another moment to analyze the hand reveals to you that… that’s her skin. black.

a chill runs down your spine.

“allow me, for a moment, to ask a selfish question in exchange for a selfish answer, sargeant.” she stands, voice dark and menacing. “as an asset of the doctor’s… do you share his ideals?”

the question takes you off-guard but it also… doesn’t. you’re not an idiot— you’ve heard of dottore’s letters to the house of the hearth suggesting the, err.. ‘rejects’ be sent to his custody so he can further his experiments. you remember how utterly appalled you were when you first came across the information. if the knave truly cares about the children in her orphanage, it’s no wonder how tightly she grips your shoulder, sharp nails just a breath away from breaking skin.

and so she asks you selfishly, a question not of loyalty but of morality.

dottore’s face flashes before your eyes and your hand subconsciously tightens into a fist, expression hardening.

“if his life were in my hands, i’d crush it in a heartbeat.” you whisper bitterly.

the grip releases you and it’s as if air is easier to breathe after that. arlecchino wordlessly steps ahead to open the door for you and gestures for you to leave first, expression neutral as if nothing had happened.

the courtroom looks like no courtroom at all, rather you feel as though you’re about to watch an opera in a grand theater— the rumors about fontaine seem to be true after all. in the rows of cushy seats, people whisper and gossip endlessly until you find yourself a seat and the booming sound of a gavel being struck echoes through the court, all sound ceases.

“court is now in session for the case of serial disappearances of young women, today we will hear both the prosecution and defense’s arguments regarding mr. tartaglia of the fatui’s alleged involvement.”

a baritone voice echoes through the silent courtroom, the direction it rings out from reveals a white-haired man in proper blue robes, sitting in a balcony that floats above the courtroom’s stage. you recognize him as the iudex, the chief justice, monsieur neuvillette. his tone is elegant and intellectual, with complete considerate professionalism—- its cadence almost reminds you of zhongli in a sense. but that’s not all that reminds you of zhongli… you can’t quite put your finger on it though.

what follows is merely formal introductions from the prosecution and the defense and you take the opportunity to become distracted and ponder over just how catastrophic your morning had turned out. it all happened so quickly too— one second you were… ah… canoodling with childe and the next he was being escorted out the room by law enforcement. had you been cursed by the gods? would they be so cruel as to make every peaceful moment in your life just merely bedding for the next major inconvenience? would they be so frustratingly taunting as to let you get that close to the one you have feelings for only to rip you two away from each other right afterwards?

“it would appear i must repeat my question, mr. tartaglia.” neuvillette says firmly, catch your attention and breaking you from your daze.

“do you accept the charge that you are the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case?”

“to be perfectly honest, i don’t understand your country’s complicated court systems, or the reason why i’m being charged with something i’ve never even heard of.” the harbinger answers bluntly.

“however, i did hear that people who have been charged can choose to participate in a duel to clear their name— is that right? in that case, as long as i accept the charge, i can have an all out fight with that champion duelist clorinde, right?”

…

how can the supposed love of your life be this stupid?

“when i privately sparred with her last time, she was obviously holding back… real disappointing.”

“hey, don’t you understand? you’re currently the prime suspect for a major case! this isn’t the place for you to be looking for fights.” a female voice calls out from the balcony directly above where you seat— while you can’t see who it is, you can only assume from the bossiness of her tone that it’s lady furina herself, the hydro archon.

“oh? sounds like the hydro archon wants to lecture me on the ways of the opera house…” childe taunts. “then why don’t you duel me too? i’m the kind of students that learns best in the heat of battle.”

you’ll kill him, oh you’ll kill this idiot one day… does he want to rot in prison for the rest of his days? this time you truly cannot hold yourself back from subconsciously standing up in panic, limbs urging to get up there and try to amend the situation yourself by arguing like a normal, sane person— but the judging stares of the other spectators hinder you glued to your seat out of sheer embarrassment.

“alas, it would appear that communication with the defendant is going poorly, and we have made very little progress.” neuvillette intervenes. “in that case, let me explain everything from the very beginning again. the goal of this trial is to determine the culprit behind the serial disappearances case—“

“that case had nothing to do with him! you’ve got the wrong man!”

huh? …who said that? did that not come out of your own mouth? seems like something you’d blur out… instead it comes from a flamboyantly dressed blonde woman who bursts into the courtroom at that very second. to you, she nearly seemed angelic in the moment.

“miss navia, this is the second time you’ve interrupted the court proceedings. i only tolerated your behavior last time because you were able to provide the court with a key eyewitness. but that was exception rather than standard court protocol— i can very well charge you with contempt of court for your interjections.”

“oh please, did you ever think i had any respect for this place’s pointless theatrics?” navia scoffs.

“we can put aside that discussion for now, i’m not here to argue with you. i’m here to charge the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case. and if my charges prove true, the tartaglia here will be proven innocent by default, correct?”

neuvillette proceeds to dismiss childe from the stand to make way for navia and allows him to seat in the audience and you feel like you should owe this lady your life. childe’s eyes scan through the seats and when he spots you, he visibly lights up and beelines to the seat next to yours.

“challenging the hydro archon? really?” you whisper playfully.

childe contains himself not to laugh loudly. “can’t say it wasn’t worth the shot.”

it’s as if a wordless conversation settles between the two of you, silent glances and deep sighs that express the mutual hopefulness for a good outcome of this trial. after a solid few seconds of staring at each other like fools, childe’s gaze drops down, you follow it to see his gloved palm sat in the armrest between the two of you— it faces outward in an invitation. your hand joins his without thought and the second your skin registers the warmth that radiates from his hold, it’s like an electric shock runs through your veins. one so buzzing that makes you two simultaneously face away from each other to hide your burning cheeks.

you’d like to pretend that you’re paying attention to the trial, but the ever so gentle squeezes childe hand gives yours periodically seem to take up all of your focus and cause it to short circuit. suddenly, there’s another burst of the courtroom’s doors and there stand the traveler and paimon, because of course they’re somehow also involved in this.

“naviaaa, we’re back!” paimon calls out.

“as expected of my partner! i just knew you’d come back in the nick of time!”

“just how often do you intend to flout the rules of this court…” neuvillette mutters disappointedly.

the traveler’s appearance contributes new evidence towards navia’s favor, who expertly disperses all of the oppositions statements. the culprit is revealed to be a man by the name of vacher, who was intent on bringing back his dear vigneire to the point where he began dissolving innocent young women with primordial seawater. as overtly ridiculous as fontaine’s spectacle culture seemed to be, you couldn’t say that watching this trial play out wasn’t extremely entertaining.

but speaking of innocent…

“at this point, the verdict of this trial is clear. with mr. marcel’s conviction, the charges against mr. tartaglia no longer hold any basis.”

you giddily look over at childe, who seems as aloof as someone who didn’t worry for a second. your fingertips tingle with excitement and you can feel the stress evaporate off your shoulders in real time. neuvillette summarizes the entire case once more and submits the verdict to the oratrice— the machine hums loudly and flashes a blinding blue, producing an envelope finally confirming his guilty status. much to unspoken disappointment, childe lets go of your hand to stand with his chest proudly puffed up.

“well now, hasn’t this been the most delicious piece of drama? the villain has been caught, justice has been served, pas wrongs have been righted and it’s a bit ol happy ending… since it’s been such a great show, i’ll just let the false accusations against me slide. either way, i’ve still got some business to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me—“

the harbinger looks back to offer you his hand once more and you happily take it before childe begins to lead you two out of the room. unfortunately, the guards at the doors of the courtroom remain unmoving as they block the doors and you frown in confusion.

“please wait just one moment, mr. tartaglia.” says the iudex.

“oh, what now? none of this has anything to do with me.” childe groans.

“according to court protocol, since this trial was initiated due to a charge against you, a verdict must also be made regarding the initial charge before the trial can conclude.”

you sigh out of selfish frustration, but opt to respect the proceedings anyhow— it’s not like the verdict will change now. childe, on the other hand, voices his annoyance like a petulant kid.

“please respect the laws of fontaine. this has always been the rule.”

“it’s fine, we’ll just have to wait here a few little seconds more.” you whisper to childe coaxingly.

he sighs. “alright alright, but this has been a lot of hassle. all i need is to stand over there, right? let’s just get this over with…”

“through evidence presented in the public trial that was just held, it has been established that mr. tartaglia has no direct connection to the serial disappearances case. the guilty party has been established and thus, it is logical to suppose mr. tartaglia is innocent of the charges.”

the machine whirrs once more, stirring some curiosity within you as to what exactly makes it tick or give accurate verdicts at all. as the envelope reaches the chief justice’s hands, he seems to stutter for a moment as he reads it. neuvillette’s ever so stoic face falls slightly into a vexed frown and he hums in confusion.

“according to the judgment of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, mr. tartaglia is— guilty.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

[kiryoutann]

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At his ripe age for marriage, Emperor Shiva ought to be more concerned with finding a wife than he is with a letter he held between his thumb and forefinger while standing in a state of shock. His birthday banquet is in two days; he should have busied himself overseeing the décor preparations and entertainment for the overseas guests, not clamping his jaw, crumpling the paper into a ball, and throwing it angrily.

"Childe.. how dare he..!" Shiva shouted, turning to face his confidant. "How dare he do something so... vile!"

From his outraged reaction, the confidant deduced that Emperor Childe had done something as awful as stab him in the back. That seems to be what he would do. But he recalled the rumors that the Snezhnayan ruler had put to death a number of his nobles for grave defamation of Liyue. He was young, yet brave enough to take drastic measures for the crimes committed during his reign. If he still harbored secretly wicked intentions toward the great Liyue empire, he shouldn't have bothered to do that, right?

So, the confidant ventured to ask: "Your Majesty, is everything all right?"

“Are you blind? Of course not!" He shoved the paper against his confidant's chest and paced back and forth in uneasiness as he waited for him to finish reading.

The handwriting was neat, still easy to read even though the paper was crumpled—thanks to Shiva. Although Liu—the poor confidant's name—kept sweeping his eyes, he couldn't help but feel guilty for reading private letters written by other people to other people. Thinking that this should only be a conversation between the Empress of Snezhnaya and the Emperor of Liyue didn't help either.

Nothing you've written is unfavorable; nothing even remotely resembles a threat or your mention of any mistreatment. It merely contained your sincere apologies to Shiva for having to send someone to attend on your and Childe's behalf, and for being unable to go due to severe morning sickness, which is typical of pregnancy's second trimester. His eyes widen. That's surprising, nonetheless, not a bad thing. He congratulated you in his heart.

Liu furrowed his brows, lowering the letter to stare at the Emperor. “Your Majesty?” he called.

Shiva halted in mid-step and fixed him with piercing eyes. "Have you read it?" His voice was firm, demanding.

“Yes, I have, but I..” When Liu sensed Shiva's intense gaze, he paused and let his words hang. As he once more held the letter up, he forced a hard swallow. “Apologies, perhaps I missed a point—”

"She's pregnant.”                                

Liu paused once more as his mind tried to make sense of anything. "She's pregnant." His mind went over the two phrases, trying to find something vile out of it. He stopped thinking when he felt his scalp heat up. Was this supposed to be a riddle? Before he could answer (and risk himself for failing to understand once again), Shiva blew a harsh breath from his mouth. He clenched his fists tightly, popping the veins under his skin. His handsome face were tarnished by a wrath that Liu couldn't place.

"She's pregnant. He impregnated her.” Shiva made sure to emphasize the “he” part.

From all the emphasis on his words and the movement of his fingers to accentuate everything, Liu still couldn't understand; at this point he believed he had suddenly lost his intelligence and was left with only one very overworked brain cell. He would grow wrinkles from furrowing his brows for the umpteenth time. Shiva took another sharp breath before pacing back and forth.

"Congratulations to the Emperor and Empress of Snezhnaya..?" Liu said doubtfully.

Shiva shook his head vigorously. So, it wasn't a congratulation he wanted to hear. Liu followed the Emperor briskly into his dressing room, where he saw him pick up a luggage and place it on the crimson couch. Like a madman, he took most of his clothes and stuffed it all in without even bothering to fold it properly. His confidant hastily stopped him.

“Your Majesty, what are you doing?”

The long-haired man grabbed his sword from the display and swung it open too fast that he nearly struck Liu. "I have to go to Snezhnaya." He spoke while looking at the steel and his reflection in it.

"What?!" Liu's heart skipped a beat as he hadn't expected his intonation to be that loud. He cleared his throat, then corrected: “Apologies, Your Majesty. But, are you sure?"

"Yes. Bring the maids here to prepare my belongings.” Shiva gave up trying to get all of his clothes into one luggage. He slowly placed his sword on his bed and rested his palms on his hips.

"But what of your birthday banquet in two days' time?”

“Ah, you're right.” Liu almost breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that Shiva had returned to his right mind. Shiva's next words dashed those expectations, however, as he chose to open his mouth and utter, "Send out a letter to everyone, informing them that the banquet is canceled! I shall spend my birthday week in Snezhnaya."

“B-But, Your Majesty!”

“Now, fetch me the maids. I must cleanse myself and my belongings require to be packed.” Shiva commanded as he took off his robe, leaving only his trousers on. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror but noticed that Liu hadn’t left the room. In response, the Emperor’s head rotated sharply, and his gaze went over to him with an intense expression. “What are you waiting for? Hurry and summon the maids!” he snapped.

With a huff, Liu hastily left the room and almost slipped (he cursed himself for being so unfortunate today). Maids came soon after in a rush, some preparing a warm bath for Shiva, while other maidens packed his belongings quickly and efficiently without daring to ask questions; no one ever dared to question the things Emperor Shiva did, even if they were rather illogical to the normal mind.

The news of your brother’s impromptu visit was relayed to you by Countess Sasha, who entered your reading room, bowed, and stated that Emperor Shiva was now residing within the Emerald Palace. You raised your eyebrows in surprise as you considered this revelation. Previously, during every trip to Snezhnaya, Shiva had always decided to live in the mansion he owned rather than the palace grounds. As you set down your book, you attempted to stand upright from your seated position with the assistance of Ksenia and Laura, who were each clasping one of your hands.

Your face remained puzzled, with questions about the sudden change. Why? Wasn’t there a birthday banquet scheduled for the very next day?

The sound of Sasha’s footsteps came closer before she knelt down next to you. “How are you, my lady?” Sasha inquired softly. “Does the queasiness still trouble?”

You paused for a moment to feel your body, then shook your head with a smile. “It has subsided,” you replied. Taking Laura’s hand for support, you rose from your chair.

Sasha noticed your movements and straightened respectfully. “Should you wish an audience with Emperor Shiva, may I suggest inviting him here instead of embarking on the long journey to the Emerald Palace?” Her voice was full of worry, but you couldn’t help but sigh at her words.

“Sasha, I’m with child, not on the verge of perishing,”

The Countess swiftly shook her head as she spoke. “Of course, I did not intend to imply that it was otherwise,” she hurriedly said. “however, it was His Majesty who had directed me to look after you well.” She explained, her tone coming across with genuine care and concern.

“Oh, fantastic. I can hardly break free from his shackles, can I?”

You conveyed your protest half-heartedly. The Queen Dowager had informed you that it was normal to feel dependent and in need of help while pregnant (it is an extremely significant and sensitive time for women). However, there was a stark contrast between her words and reality; it was Childe who irritated you with how much he always wanted to be by your side more than was necessary. You failed to keep track of the innumerable instances he told you that you needn’t be concerned since he possessed the knowledge and experience from his mother's pregnancy when she was expecting Teucer; however, he continued to perspire and ordered Dmitri to call for the healer each and every time you throw up from the morning sickness in the early hours.

You grimace. Upon further reflection, Dmitri deserves to receive a full year of paid leave. Even under Childe's pressure, he had performed admirably.

“Your Majesty.” Sasha stepped closer to the door and gave a warning, her frown deepening and dipping in displeasure at your defiant behavior. She was certain that if this kept up, she would age faster.

“Come now, Countess, there’s no need to worry,” You soothed, glancing down fondly at your growing belly. “You seem to forget that this child's father is Tartaglia – do you truly believe a stroll through the gardens would cause us harm?”

You caressed your swollen middle affectionately. “However, do pass me my coat, won't you? It seems the babe has inherited their mother's weakness for this country's chill autumn airs.” You continued, watching as Ksenia hurriedly grabbed a coat for you.

Ultimately, despite her doubts and a heavy heart, Sasha let you walk to see your brother. You slowly made your way out of your room and down the Golden Spire palace's lengthy hallway. Indeed, the building where the emperor and empress lived was beautiful, with the ceiling covered in intricate gold filigree work and light streaming into the hallway, illuminating the entire area. Even the pillars, which have stood for hundreds of years, still looked strong and exquisitely polished. However, the everyday scenery is quickly replaced by the stunning autumn setting as soon as you reach outside. Golden rays of the sun filter through the colorful trees and bring a warm glow to the imperial grounds. You stopped after you stepped on dry leaves, the pleasant crinkling sound of them causing a smile to tug at the corners of your lips.

“Is something the matter, Your Majesty?” As you guessed, Sasha hurriedly approached you.

“No.” You answered her while stroking your growing stomach greeting the small kick inside. With your eyes squinted from the glare of the sun, you catch another two dry leaves falling tossing and turning before they hit the ground. “Autumn is coming to an end.”

Your remark caused the three ladies-in-waiting to glance at the garden's big oak tree. “Indeed, Your Majesty.” Sasha replied to you.

“Winter is coming.” you mused again, the imperial physician's words echoed once more - the child would be a winter-born. Soon, very soon, you would hold your son or daughter in your arms at last.

Sasha nodded. “That's right,” she paused, then furrowed her brows, curious and concerned. “Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” She watched you smile before suddenly resuming your steps, requiring your ladies-in-waiting to hurriedly follow you.

The Emerald Palace building comes into sight. You noticed the vibrant blooms had faded, their petals falling to join the fiery leaves carpeting the grounds. The gurgling of water from a three-tier fountain could be heard. Your footsteps slowed at a polished figure seated solitary, chin raised with calm pride over steaming tea under a shady tree—from his posture, you easily recognized your older brother and proceeded to approach him.

“Brother.”

From that familiar voice, the young emperor turned his head sharply. (Y/N). He raked his gaze over her starting from her head—not much had changed from her hair being longer than the last time he saw her; her face was still as beautiful as before. Those luscious lips of hers should have been proof enough that somehow that bastard Tartaglia wasn't treating her badly (but Shiva knew he couldn't be too sure, after all this was Tartaglia he was talking about). His gaze, cold and flinty, traveled lower.

There, roundness was unmistakably forming where antes there had been flatness. Shiva’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as confirmation of his worst fears stared back at him—the telltale swell and curve of your belly, stretched taut with new life. His scowl twisted into a snarl.

“(Y/N).” Your name came out as a growl. “So the news is true. You carry that cad Tartaglia's spawn.” His lips curled in disgust.

A sigh escaped your lips. “His Majesty the Emperor is my husband, brother. Did you come all this way without a word, disrupting your duties, just to weigh down the father of your future niece or nephew?” You replied calmly.

Myriad full moons have come and passed, yet you remain the epitome of a lady who possessed the control and mastery over her emotions. In the past, it was a source of pride to Shiva from how you refused to break under any pressure—that if anyone wanted to find a flaw in you, their failure was all that could be found. But, now that he met your gaze with a flare of his own eyes, it irked him how you could remain so infuriatingly calm when he wanted to stir strong emotions.

“You concluded correctly, sister. My purpose is precisely to weigh that tyrant," he replied tersely. “He is unworthy of one like you. To think, my esteemed sister reduced to bearing the offspring of a mere war dog."

You gazed steadily at your brother, trying to keep a reign on your rising frustration. As Empress, you are well-practiced in diplomacy. But with family, diplomacy sometimes feels like a losing battle.

Taking a measured breath, you speak in a soft yet unyielding tone. “Ajax may have been a warrior in his youth, but he is so no longer, his battle-days are behind him. As the Emperor of Snezhnaya, he is a skilled ruler and has treated me with nothing but love and respect.”

If Shiva insists on continuing this argument, you swear—oh, you swear on God's name—to turn and walk away from him. No matter that he traveled all the way from Liyue and abandoned the birthday banquet that he called off (based on the information that Sasha brought), you're feeling the effects of the physical changes on your body and worry that you won't be able to handle much more. The babe is restless and your patience wearing thin. Another cutting remark and you might do something unwise.

Shiva was about to part his lips, and you braced yourself to hear more nonsense from him. He puffed himself like a pufferfish ready to strike, his facial expression wild and you wondered what was going on inside his head.

“I shall demand Tartaglia face me in single combat at once! For putting you in such a condition without my consent!”

You release a long-suffering sigh, one delicate hand lifted to press gloved fingers against furrowed brow. “For heaven's sake, brothers, husbands and wives tend to produce children without their siblings' approval. It's the natural way of things.”

“But you are the princess! And my sister!” Shiva sputtered. “No man touches you without my say-so!”

You massaged the bridge of your nose. “Shiva, I was married off with full blessings; and I'm an Empress now, with duties and affections of my own. Must you act stupid all the time? The child kicks as we speak, eager to meet the world, and you insist on this nonsense?” Your patience drips faster with every word Shiva says.

“He must answer for impregnating you!”

You throw your hands to the sky with failing patience. “For the love of—I'm just as responsible, you twit! Now either you end this stupidity or board the next ship before I brain you with this teapot.”

The Liyuean emperor was about to respond once more when you shot him a pointed look that silenced him for a thousand words. Shiva—the imposing and menacing Shiva—now visibly deflated like a sad balloon; anyone watching might have mistaken him for a large, pouting child rather than the mighty emperor of Liyue. His looming form seemed to shrink in on itself, broad shoulders curling forward and thick eyebrows kitting into a hurt frown.

Feeling your anger subside, you exhale bringing the last of your irritation out of your body, ready for a calmer, more reasonable conversation. “Come now, brother,” you started. “Stop sulking like a child. While you are here, I want to spend some good time with you. I've missed your company.”

Reaching out, you grabbed his larger hand trying to cheer him up. “Now then, why is it you've stayed inside the palace this time, instead of your favorite mansion as usual? Did something happen there?” You asked, your eyes narrowed with curiosity.

It was unusual for Shiva to leave the privacy of his mansion, settling at the Emerald Palace instead. It was always his habit to keep himself as far away from the radius of the Snezhnaya royal—imperial, now—family as possible. Or perhaps, as difficult as it was for your towering brother to admit, he simply wanted to spend more time with you during this visit. With a child soon to arrive, everyone will need the bonds of kinship to thrive; Shiva may have long assumed that your parents would not be on your list of expected family members, judging by your complicated relationship with your Liyuean family—duty and tradition often take precedence over emotional bonds. Shiva is the only one left as that anchor of familial closeness now more than ever.

Shiva cleared his throat gruffly, tugging at his ornate collar as if suddenly feeling confined. “Well, you know how it is. Can’t have you and that man multiplying willy-nilly before this one’s arrival, now can we?”

Your eyebrows fell in the flat, annoyed face you showed him. “Shiva, I say this with affection—producing children does not work that way.”

A hint of pink surfaced on his stately cheekbones. “Nonsense, I know precisely how these matters work. My informants keep me well-apprised.”

"Do they?" You raise a slender brow. “Somehow I doubt your informants' ‘updates' covered the specifics of pregnancy.”

Shiva harrumphed. “But, how then do twins come to be if not two planted at a time?”

You stifled a laugh. “The seed of twins quickens together through some quirk of nature, not… repetitive activities, as you suggest. One pregnancy, two babes—a blessing, not a strategy.”

The imposing Emperor of Liyue—tall and broad-shouldered, with chiseled features any sculptor with covet; yet, for all his power and prestige, in some ways, Shiva would always be the same. Small wonder the ladies of the court were forever vying for his attention, with but a glance and rumbling baritone, Shiva could make even the most steadfast knees quake. His valor in battle was legendary throughout Teyvat. As Emperor of Liyue, he commanded absolute obedience through dominance, vigilance, and cunning.

Yet for all his strength, domestic minutiae proved his bane. You have long grown accustomed to gently schooling him about the softer side of life. Babes, intimacy, and vulnerability were mystical puzzles to your pragmatic brother. They reminded you that for all his power and influence, at heart he remained your big brother. The same big brother who skipped etiquette class to play with you.

"Hmm.." Shiva stroked his imaginary beard. “There is still the matter of your… husband.”

You sigh. “Again?” This time, you turn your shoes to turn the other way. The wind was too cold and your legs were too sore to have this conversation anymore.

Shiva walked quickly to catch up with you. “He had best treated you well in your condition.” He grumbled, eyes hard as granite.

“Ajax dotes on me, as always.” Sometimes it's even too close to smothering; you wanted to add anything but didn't, out of concern that somehow Shiva will magically take this as a literal complaint. "But I thank you for your concern, brother."

The last rays of sunlight were fading fast as clouds deepened its shades of gray across the Emerald Palace gardens. You gazed around appreciatively, taking in the seasonal beauty of falling leaves. Auburn and scarlet leaves swirled upon currents of chilly air, coating lawns and paths in a blanket of faded color. Your breath misted before your plump lips in the dropping temperatures. As if sensing your discomfort, the babe within shifted and stretched, seeking warmth.

"It grows dark, and this cold will not do for anyone in my state," You looked at Shiva with a soft smile. “Walk with me back inside, brother? I believe a nice cup of hot tea by the fire is in order.”

The Liyuean emperor glanced down with a concerned frown, noticing the loss of color on your lips. Gently, Shiva opened his powerful palms to receive your smaller fingers upon his forearms. Even through the fabric, you could feel the waves of his inner furnace warming your skin.

“Fragile as a newborn bird.” He grumbled, though care dwelt in his stern gaze.

Leaning upon his sturdy frame, the two of you began the slow walk back to comforts within. The sunlight was getting dimmer. As shadows engulfed the gardens, the wind howled more fiercely through emerging tree branches, abandoning its playful mood. You bury your nose into your upturned collar, breathing in its lingering scent of sandalwood and spice. Despite all of that, Shiva still makes sure that his steps are not so wide that you struggle to match his. Slow and careful is better.

"Watch your step. Lean upon me if you're worried—it's better than the chance of a stumble or fall.”

Your heart swells at his fussy care, unsurprised though deeply touched. Fierce emperor he is, yet where family is, lies the same tender heart of your childhood, still beating sure and strong. This was far from new—from your earliest memories, it was Shiva who swept you into strong arms when storms raged, telling tales until even lightning's flash seemed like a play.

Little Shiva often gets reprimanded for "teaching" his sister to climb the ancient pine tree to retrieve his favorite celestial crab toy that got stuck high in the branches. Naughty girl climbs like a little monkey, but then too scared to come down. Big brother Shiva climbs up to save you, and you both end up having ears pulled by the caretaker Gong Gong for damaging boughs older than even their venerable dynasty.

The final step up the steps of the main palace is taken and closes your long journey to reach here. Home at last. You sigh contentedly, rubbing your belly where a new life stirred. Gazing up at the towering figure who has guided you since birth, you feel a surge of gratitude and safety wrap around you like a cashmere shawl.

Rain began to pelt the earth outside the window. A faint, untamed wind entered through the open door and caused the fire to dance before it was shut.

No matter what storms life sent your way, you knew without a doubt that your steadfast brother would always stand like a great pine, sheltering you under the boughs of his protection. Some things, it seemed, did not change even with time's passage. As you are led to refresh yourself by the fire, you send up a silent prayer of thanks for the brother who was, and always will be, your greatest protector under heaven.

It was raining outside.

Being a Snezhnayan-born, he was unaffected by snowstorms even.  He recalled boyhood winters where ice-cold feet covered in white had become a habit, and hypothermia had repeatedly passed by his mother's reprimands because little Ajax had played outside for too long. He often said the cold didn't bother him, and the Queen at that time responded with another string of stern lectures about mortal limits. "You may have thick skin and tough bones, but no man can contest with nature in her fury," she always said.

It was raining outside.

As the council droned on around discussions of trade routes and border disputes, the Emperor's focus wavered again to the pounding rain. Some part of him will always find solace in storms' primal rhythms, recalling simpler days playing in the palace white gardens.

But now another occupied his thoughts, and this autumn downpour no longer held nostalgia—just a chill that he knew she wasn't bred to withstand. His wife, you, the Empress, possessed a Liyuean's preference for temperate climates and was not so adapted to cold and damp. Frown found him easily. And with child too now, each storm brought new cause for concern.

Childe wonders what you're doing as the heavens open their floodgates. Resting as suggested, tucked cozily by the fire under layers of blankets? Or do you insist on wandering, eagle-eyed handmaidens fretting while you trailed damp slippers through resplendent halls? Childe knows how stubborn you are, and he also knows your ladies-in-waiting have laid down life itself if harm threatens their empress or babe. Still, he is unable to subdue his inclinations.

Perhaps a visit was in order.

As the discussion continued, Childe glanced at his confidant, Dmitri. The young, diligent, man lends a keen ear to the proceedings, a pen scratching next to a pile of notebook paper.

Childe knew that if he was suggested to leave the council meeting to see his empress, he would be met with disgruntlement from him. Dmitri took his duties as confidant seriously, and interrupting state affairs for personal reasons went against propriety. Sure enough, he could already hear a series of protests. “Your Majesty, the generals are presenting vital information. This is not the time for idle social calls.” Or perhaps, “The Empress will understand your devotion to duty, sire. Go to her when business is concluded.”

But Dmitri's words would fall on deaf ears as always, anyway. If it came to you, Childe was ruled by heart far more than head. And his heart now beats in worry for your comfort in this unruly weather. So, let Dmitri shout until he was hoarse. Your smile is worth any scolding. And the baby… oh, how he longed to feel those tiny kicks against his big palms.

Just as General Gorin slowly rose to present his next point, Childe waved his hand and smoothly cut in. “Gentlemen, I am grateful for all the insights that have been shared so far. However, more pressing matters now demanded my attention. Let's end today's meeting and continue planning tomorrow.”

Surprised murmurs filled the room as the Emperor rose, meeting already ended without warning. Dmitri shot Childe a pointed look asking clearer than words – “Pressing matters, Your Majesty? What matters could possibly arise now?” He asked full of confusion, but a suspicion and guess was hidden underneath.

Childe merely flashed his confidant a guileless smile and shrugged without a care. “Family matters. You understand this.”

Oh, Dmitri understands it all too well. The confidant has long been accustomed to his emperor's whims wherever it concerns his empress. How he understood the depth of Childe's devotion to you.

Like that inspection of new naval defenses, where one of your ladies-in-waiting's arrival brings news of your headache turning Childe on his heel, meeting forgotten. General Gorin’s rage at disrupted schedules took moons to subside.

Or that time, yet another council meeting was thrown into disarray by Childe's protectiveness of you. The advisers had gathered to discuss border security when suddenly, the Emperor shot up from his seat said an urgent matter had arisen, and they should continue the discussion among themselves. Sure enough, they soon learned the “urgent matter” was that you insisted on taking a walk around the garden that afternoon. One of your maidens had come to notify Childe, worried you might tire yourself from the early stages of your pregnancy.

Not that Childe neglected his duties—somehow he always resolved imperial affairs with his usual flare, despite his distracted heart. But propriety and practicality demand that protocols be adhered to! What if an urgent vote is needed, or a treaty is signed, in his hasty absence? He understood, truly understood his emperor's loyalty to the family. But, as a confidant, it grew tiresome to have to have strategic discussions interrupted at vital moments just because the Emperor “just wanted to check on her.”

With a tired sigh, Dmitri forced himself to speed up his pace to match Childe's determined strides through the palace halls. “There is one other matter requiring your attention, Your Majesty.”

Childe threw him a sideways glance, blue eyes sharpening. “Out with it, Dmitri.” He demanded.

“Emperor Shiva of Liyue is presently within the palace walls,” Dmitri stated.

The Emperor halted abruptly, whipping to face his advisor with eyes like a blade drawn. “And you didn't tell me sooner, Boyar?”

Dmitri bowed in contrition. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I just received word upon leaving the council chambers. It seems that the Liyue ruler came unannounced, desiring an audience solely with Her Majesty the Empress.”

Childe’s scowl spoke volumes on his fraught relationship with your overprotective brother. While necessity forged an alliance, personal warmth was lacking between the proud rulers. Shiva saw himself your guardian first, diplomacy second. And the prospect of his beloved sister bearing children for an “outsider” emperor did little to endear. Many cold stares had passed between the men in your presence.

The young emperor resumed his long strides, lips pursed in a hard line. “Where is he now?”

His confidant hastened to keep up. “From words of the guards, the Empress welcomed her brother into the Emerald Palace gardens. But seeing storm clouds gather, they retired to Her Majesty's private drawing room for tea indoors." Dmitri answered.

The scowls on his handsome face deepened. Childe made long, purposeful strides down the gleaming palace halls, cape billowing behind him like the stormclouds overhead. Servants scattered from his frigid aura, wise people try to avoid his presence. Dmitri behind him followed hurriedly, trying to catch air with ragged breaths.

Poor young man. The more they approached the chamber, the more Dmitri's mind raced frenziedly considering all potential scenarios and consequences. While his Emperor maintained cordial smiles in public, that gleaming blade swung beneath could destroy the unwise. He knew well Childe's mercurial nature—charming one moment, savage the next if challenged. Combined with Shiva's openly imperious streak, this encounter has disaster written in its stars.

By the time the duo reached the chamber doors, sweat dripped down Dmitri's pale face. Taking a moment to compose himself, he sent up a fervent prayer to any deity listening.

All his diplomatic prowess seemed like tattered silk amidst the hurricane that was about to collide in the drawing room. Only one held the power to steer these storms to calmer waters—Her Majesty Empress (Y/N). Time and again, Dmitri has seen you easily maneuver the most stubborn of men to your will, employing but a look or word. If fortune is on his side, perhaps your radiant presence has calmed their ruffled quills within.

The guards straightened as Childe's purposeful steps stopped right in front of the towering door. With a practiced announcement, the first cried:

“Announcing the arrival of His Majesty, Childe, Sovereign Emperor of Snezhnaya!”

Instantly, the heavy portals swung inward under the straining muscles, hinges moving as smoothly as the tides. Inside, soft lamplight bathes a tapestry scene of tranquility. Marble floors gleamed ahead, inviting new visitors into the drawing room.

From the presence of two new people, you looked up from your tea. "Ajax, you've come!" Your beautiful face lit up with joy upon seeing Childe enter.

Your beaming smile helped ease tension from Childe's rigid frame. Walking over, he went to your side and took your hand in his. “Wife,” he greeted, smiling lips placing a kiss on your knuckles. You truly are his sun, chasing away all the shadows in his soul and decorating his heart with gold carvings.

Ah, right.

Although resentment still simmered within at Shiva's unwelcome visit, Childe knew very well the game had to be played. So, with considered effort, he molded his expression into a faux friendliness. The smile rings the bells of falsity to those closely observing, but to the untrained eye, it may pass.

Turning to Shiva, Childe addressed him in smooth tones, “Brother,” he said, feeling like cutting off his own tongue. “It's been too long.”

Shiva's return greeting comes short with an absence of warmth. Leveling Childe with an unwavering stare, he replied, “Indeed. Though some absences feel shorter than others.”

A hint of irritation flashed across Childe's features at Shiva's sly jab. But, years of training to become Snezhnaya's future successor had schooled his temper. A mirthless chuckle rose from his throat as he replied.

“Brother, ever the lapdog snapping at anything that moves without caring for the mess left behind. Is solitude wearing on you? No wonder you ache for stimulation.”

Shiva’s eyes flashed at the provocation. “Careful little wolf, your words reveal more about yourself than I,” he retorted coolly. “At least I don’t go snarling rabidly at any who threaten my fleas. Liyue has prospered without incident under my watch. Can the same be said for your frozen wasteland?”

Childe's faux-smile vanished, the mask evaporates revealing the devil beneath. “Snezhnaya has thrived despite constant meddling from supposed ‘allies.’ Perhaps if certain neighbors attended their own affairs instead of sniffing mine, they'd find less cause for petty complaints.” He gritted his teeth.

Shiva scoffed. “It must sting that even your neighbors consider you an annoyance.”

As the emperors' argument grew more heated, your expression changed from beaming joy to stern annoyance.

“Enough, both of you.” Your voice rang clearly, cutting through the tension and instantly capturing their attention. Those beautiful eyes, usually warm as spring sun, now glinted cool. “Honestly, I expected more maturity from my husband and brother. If you have problems remaining civil, remove yourselves from my presence.”

At your sharp words, both Childe and Shiva looked abashed, like puppies being scolded from tearing pillows, tails wagging between their legs. You had united two nations through their marriage where once only hostility stood; yet now the proud rulers of two empires are quarreling in what should be a quiet evening full of warm tea and fires. With a weary sigh, you massage your temples as if you were physically hurt by their foolishness.

You see Shiva about to open his mouth to deliver another biting retort—always wanting to have the last word—but, with a sharp stare, his jaw closes again.

"Say another word and you will regret it." you are warned in a low tone laced with threats.

With a lovely smile on his lips, Childe turned to you, hoping to win you over to his side. “Angel,” he purred, brushing a tender kiss to your knuckles—Shiva wanted to spill his guts at the sight. “You know how your brother enjoys provoking me. I meant no disrespect.”

Shiva scoffed but dared not test his luck with your anger still on him. Childe ignored the sound, focusing completely on appeasing his wife.

You narrowed your eyes. "You're not completely innocent in this, Ajax." You reminded him.

“But, love—”

Childe was interrupted when you raised your index finger to shush him. "And I've thought about it for a while," you say, pausing to get both men's attention with your poignant tone. “We'll use the duration of Shiva's stay here as time for you to reconnect without titles between you. As family, not rulers. Which is why you and Shiva will accompany me on my trip to Zelenossosh.”

Immediate protests erupted from both men.

“Spend leisure with him?” Childe grunted, jerking a thumb at Shiva. “You ask too much, love.”

Shiva sneered. “As if I wanted some time alone with the mongrel Emperor and his ilk.”

“Gentlemen, peace, please. And I've decided," you said firmly. “This trip is not optional. We will leave in three days, and you will spend the entire time there bonding over the activities of my choosing. No politics or policies are allowed to be discussed.”

“But sister! This is—”

“(Y/N), anything but—”

A dramatic gasp came out of you, surprising both of them. “Oh my, is it that time already?” You mused, stretching your muscles gracefully, pretending to be tired of your duties. “Ajax, Shiva, please excuse me as I retire for my evening bath. My handmaidens, help an exhausted Empress to her chambers, if you please.”

Your two handmaidens appear, hurry to aid you in your “weariness.” But, the twinkling eyes said otherwise as you smiled over your shoulder.

“Try to get along without me, won't you, Your Majesties?” you said in faux-innocence.

With barely veiled amusement, you watch them tense up at the prospect of forced solo interactions. Chuckling softly to yourself, you walk out with a satisfied smile, escorted by your lovely ladies-in-waiting.

The atmosphere in the room grew thick like sour milk after your absence lifted the veil of politeness. The two men managed to maintain the first ten seconds in silence, avoiding each other's gaze like tomcats dropped in a sack together. Jaws locked. Teeth were gritted and the last bit of patience was running out.

Shiva sat tensely, fingers clenched, creating crescent prints in his palms as he glared daggers at Childe from the corners of his eyes. "This is your doing, Wolf."

Childe snorted, delicate eyebrow arched. “My doing? Tell me, how so.” He met his gaze.

“You intend to poison my sister's mind against me with your honeyed lies,” Shiva hissed.

An ugly sneer curled Childe’s lip. “The only poison here is your constant meddling in affairs that don’t concern you. If you hadn’t come nosing around Snezhnaya again—”

“Nosing around?” Shiva bellowed, face turning purple. “You got my sister pregnant without my permission! How dare you impregnate her without my blessing. What if something had gone wrong, huh? It’s all your fault!”

Childe gritted his teeth, growing frustrated with Shiva's overprotective attitude. “She is my wife, not some decorative pet you own. And do I need to remind you that children are a normal part of marriage, or is it not like that where you come from?”

“Don't twist this to your advantage, wolf,” Shiva stood up from his chair, pointing a slanderous finger at Childe. “I see your game—you made her so early with child to tie her to you forever, admit it!”

Those dull blue eyes gleamed with fury directly above a grin. "Ha! Is this what your deranged mind contemplates consistently?" He crossed his arms and reclined on the couch as his gaze trained on Shiva's emotional turmoil.

“You think to use her body for your ambitions of an heir!”

Breaking through the restraint he possessed, the ginger-haired man swiftly rose to his feet and prowled towards the Liyue Emperor. Though nearly equal in height and build, his explosive temper made him seem to tower over Shiva in that moment. A cruel, wrathful smile twisted his lips as blue orbs darkened with barely contained fury.

“Say that to my face again,” Childe dared in a deadly quiet tone. “It would be my honor to educate that foul tongue of yours once and for all.”

Shiva met his furious gaze, steady as stone. “Withdraw your implication or face the consequences, dog.”

A loud scoff came out of Childe, his famed patience was dragged wildly and almost completely evaporated. Fists clenched tightly, knuckles bleached, straining with the effort to resist lashing out—he knew it would only benefit Shiva, that the Liyue dog would use it as an opportunity to take your sympathy to his side. But every pore and disciplined muscle screams for release, to put this peacock in its place through whatever it takes.

“I've wanted nothing more than to rearrange that handsome face of yours since we met,” Childe threatened, cracking his knuckles with malicious intent.

To his surprise, Shiva threw back his head and laughed—a deep, ironic chuckle. The Liyuean bent over to select a dessert fork laid out on the table. Twirling the utensil dexterously between his long fingers, Shiva straightened his back and shot Childe a look from under lowered lashes.

“Is that so? Well, you’re not entirely wrong—I am rather easy on the eyes.”

“You really want to do this, don't you?” Childe's query didn't seek confirmation, rather, it served as a last warning before he enacted his plan to "resculpt" that stunning jaw into something no better than the monument commemorating the demise of the last Duke of Krykiye, a statue that ultimately ceased to exist due to being considered government treason.

Shiva flashed a shark's smile, dessert fork now hidden in his fist. “Then come – take your best shot, little Emperor. Let's see if your skills live up to that big mouth of yours."

The sly words were the final shards to break Childe's crumbling restraint. Damn it! To damnation with patience and consequences! He vowed, in the name of his late father, to pummel Shiva's appearance, rearranging it until it remained unrecognizable to the point where he could never return to Liyue and rule the empire again. The ideal circumstance is that he would be deported and branded as an impostor claiming to be the Liyue emperor who had “abruptly” disappeared after traveling to Snezhnaya. Go to hell with it all. With a wordless snarl, he lunged, fists flying—

“Sir Dmitri arrived just in time, it seems. His Majesty and Emperor Shiva appeared quite.. animated in their exchange.”

From the news delivered by Sasha, you opened your eyes and raised an eyebrow, not completely surprised. Laura's efforts in lifting your burden all day with her slender fingers massaging your temples and head are wasted on the confirmation of Childe and Shiva returning to their squabbles almost immediately after you departed from their presence. The bathing chambers are luxuriously designed to soothe tired muscles. Floating flower petals in warm water soaking your naked body does little to ease your stress.

"Was anybody hurt?"

You look at Sasha and receive a shake of the head. "Fortunately," you are informed, "Sir Dmitri is quite skilled in managing those types of situations. The two have retired to their personal quarters."

You sigh. “Those foolish men. Put them in one room and watch the entire house burn down.” You said.

Sasha nodded in agreement. “Men will be men, I'm told.”

You relaxed into the pillowy embrace of bubbles, warm water soaking your shoulders, while Laura rinsed the last of the shampoo from your long hair. With a gentle hand, you begin stroking your swollen belly, silently musing at the child growing inside.

“Please don't take after your father and uncle, little one,” you said wryly. “I pray you inherit my calm rather than their hot tempers and their thirst for contention and chaos.”

Countess Sasha chuckled softly at your candid words. “Fate itself knows what traits Snezhnaya's successor will claim. We can only hope that their generosity and diplomacy will outweigh their recklessness.” She spoke, and the ladies shared a grin.

Maybe it's time for you to journey to a temple and make an offering that your pleas would be accepted by the gods. If, by some stroke of luck, your child inherited Childe's free-spirited and spontaneous nature, you were practically certain your hair would turn white within a single night's rest. The capital would be unable to withstand the chaos, and Snezhnaya's enemies would be thrown into confusion by the fall of the empire in a short time—sealing their years of fantasizing about its downfall.

Just then, Ksenia entered the bath chamber and rushed to your side carefully. “Your Majesty, the Emperor requests an audience.” She spoke softly as she knelt beside your bathub.

You raised an eyebrow, sharing an amused glance with Sasha. “Speak of the devil..” You mumbled, then sighed. “Fine, let him in.”

Soon, Childe was swept into the bathroom, still dressed in his royal clothes. His face softened at the sight of you, but then he frowned in confusion at the others. "Why are they all in here?" he asked.

"They kept me good company, unlike certain emperors who desired to declare war every time they met."

Childe huffed. “It wasn't entirely my doing—Shiva provoked me, you know that. If it weren't for my wisdom, we would've come to blows.” He tried to reason.

You raised a skeptical brow. "I was under the impression that Dmitri was the one who intervened and separated you two?"

“Through Dmitri, yes – but his position comes from my leadership. Therefore, the credit is mine.”

A fond yet tired sigh escaped your lips. Truly, managing this Emperor and all the nonsensical things he does is a feat in itself. When others only see him as nothing more than his pretty surface, you take the time to discern what's bothering him underneath, allowing your steady voice to help guide him to calmer ports. His charisma and strategic mind have garnered a lot of respect; but beneath, his soul still yearns for adventure on the battlefield where he excels. It stirs wild impulses that defeat calmer and rational thinking in heated moments.

But you see, Childe was trying to grow out of his old self to become a better emperor for the empire. Where violence was once his first tongue, patience and diplomacy now speak louder through his efforts. He'll continue abandoning rashness like battered armor outgrown, and you'll be there every step of the way.

“You know how he plucks my strings, angel.”

As Childe spoke those words to you, his hand rose to his collar. Slowly, deliberately, he began to unbutton his royal shirts one by one. He eases the heavy fabric from his broad shoulders in a single, practiced motion, revealing his numerous scars—a history that is reluctant to be forgotten on his skin. And he was beautiful precisely because he was battle-tested yet unbroken.

Your ladies-in-waiting took the cue to discreetly gather towels and depart with flushed smiles. Childe unbuckled and threw the belt behind him without a care. He approached you, and your gaze roamed over your husband's nearly naked body in awe. The skin is smooth and light, muscles defined yet free of excess bulk. Years of combat had honed his physique to its peak.

The chiseled 'V' leads down from his waist to where his trousers clung low on his hips. Blocks like smoothed stone make a square on the stomach, not overly large but firm under the touch. You remember fond nights tracing their lines with fingers or lips, feeling them contract at your actions.

"But for you both, my love, I will try to keep a calm head."

With feline grace, Childe stepped into the bath, causing the waters to surge. You smiled and shifted forward invitingly to give him room. He settled behind you, long legs flanking your form, and circling your swollen middle with strong yet gentle arms. The warmth is placed on your exposed shoulder as he kisses it affectionately. You lean back with a sigh, nestling your damp hair against his collarbone. He kissed your temple, one large hand spread protectively over the unborn babe within.

“Don't worry, your promise will be put to the test when the three of us leave for Zelenossosh later.” You said and Childe let out an exaggerated groan and buried his face in the crook of your neck, eliciting a soft laugh from you.

Within three days, the three of you will head for Zelenossosh. A rational individual would say that it would be unwise to proceed with this plan - Childe is a troublemaker, and pairing him with Shiva's fiery temper is a risky undertaking. Even if you decide to travel to Zelenossosh, a location known for its tranquil appearance, composed of pretty hills and beaches, it will probably turn into another loud argument – just with a prettier backdrop this time!

Only time will tell what the fate of their traveling party will be, and you can only pray that it will end with more joy than murder.

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION.

[heavenfelll]

Lessons in Love

Kaeya x Fem!Reader, Childe x Fem!Reader, Xiao x Fem!Reader || NSFW || Angst || Love Triangle || Finished ||

Chapter 1/Intro

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

♡ Support creators by reblogging ♡

[mistachesme]

Moments he finds you beautiful:

Sparring makes childe lose control. His focus usually zeroing on his opponents weakness. But they are moments that throws him off... Like right now. The way you look so irresistible as you frantically think of a way to defeat him. It suddenly hits him that you are beautiful when you take him seriously during a battle. The feral look on your face makes his heart race quicker. And he wonders if it would make you mad when he pins you to the ground and claim your tempting lips with his.

There's so many things that zhongli treasures so dearly. The memories, liyue and then there's you. He's convinced that you are a finest art, the most precious gem of all who radiates so much beauty. However, he loves you the best in the comfort of his home - a warm cup of tea in your hand, your giddy smile and the loving eyes that bore into his. And, he selfishly drinks in the sight of you as he murmurs how beautiful you look.

Be it your wish or a mere whim, xiao sees it done in a heartbeat. You got him wrapped around your finger there's no denying that. However, you are reckless and that's partly why he is constantly worried about you. There's something about you resting your head on his lap as you sleep. He gently massages your head, watching your peaceful expression. You look so vulnerable and so at ease when you fall asleep in his presence. He finds you pretty like this and he would never let anything happen to you.... Not even a nightmare.

You are so easy to read and it amuses ayato so much. He could almost hear the thumping of your heart when he teases you about something, watching you stutter in embarassment. The sight is so pleasing to him. And he never wishes someone other than him witnessing such a pretty sight. He takes pride over the fact that only he gets to do that and no one can.

[byizoyas]

© byizoyas.

❝ my heart could be split in millions of pieces but it’d never stop beating for you.

★☆ ⋆ A THOUSAND STARS IN YOUR EYES ⋆ ☆★ — a childe x f!reader x scaramouche social media au written by byizoyas.

⋆ ☇ SYNOPSIS : y/n is a young and very popular actress. she’s used to play in a lot of movies with another popular actor : childe, who also happens to be a friend of her. but as they’re living a peaceful life, filming together a lot and having a pretty much ambiguous relationship; everything seems to be compromised when a younger and promising actor appears. OR; celebrity/actors au where y/n in wavering between her everyday co-star and her newest one.

⋆ ☇ STARRING : y/n, childe, scaramouche ⋆ ☇ SIDE ROLES : kazuha, venti, xiao, lumine, thoma, yelan, ayato

⋆ ☇ A/N : once again inspired of an old idea i’ve had and thought it’d suit them ; might be suggestive at times ; irregular updates and messy time stamps ; might end up with 2 routes depending on how the story is going (cause im fucking improvising this shit)

taglist open ⋆ send an ask or comment! :)

EAST SIDE AGENCIES + priv┊WEST SIDE AGENCIES + priv

⋆ ☇ CHAPTERS LIST :

# ACT I ⋆ 01_ all we have is now ⋆ 02_ someone is stealing the show ⋆ 03_ the greatest performance of the year ⋆ 04_ y/n weirdo meets meanie scaramouche ⋆ 05_ stealing attention ⋆ 06_ another love story

you are the most splendid mistake i’ve made. and if it meant i could find my way back to you; i’d gladly do it again.❞

[peachpassionfruit]

if it wasn’t for the nights!

🏹 06. just how you like it

Oh.

Oh, great. This was just… fantastic.

Childe, with an incredibly pitiful expression painted across his face, sat down next to you. You thought you could finally escape him, but maybe in class wasn’t a good enough refuge. He solemnly smiled at you, setting down a cup of iced coffee. You glanced at it, then him, narrowing your gaze.

“What’s this?” You asked, cocking your head mockingly.

“Iced coffee, no liquid sugar, extra cream, and extra ice. Just how you like it.” Childe said, offering you a sad grin. “Y/N, I know nothing I can say can make up for what I did, but please let me try.”

You just stared at him, your expression blank and completely unreadable. Childe tried to search your features for any trace of emotion or response, the face he knew so well, but he couldn’t conclude anything. Except for the fact that you took the coffee, hesitantly sipping it. Finally, an expression he understood. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you sank back in your seat a bit. Calm.

As much as you hated to admit it now, he still knew you. And you knew him; as well as the fact that he wouldn’t give up in the face of your rejection.

The bell rang, and a voice sounded from the front of the class. “Alright, class. I’m Professor Ningguang. Welcome to your first day…”

↞ | m.list | ↠

🏹 notes … ok I have another chapter semi-ready but it’s a written chapter and I’m still finishing it and editing I’ll post it mayb today but prob tmrw bc I have work in a bit. but next chapter long af. or at least I think it kinda is. anyway my updates might be fewer in the upcoming weeks as i’ll be traveling a lot (i’m only gonna be home 8 days out of all of july) but imma still try bc i’m addicted to scara rn

🏹 taglist … open!! msg/comment to be added @alisonyus @tiddieshakeshownu @lxkeeeee @sheraeera @sketcheeee @sukunasrealgf @sweet-seraphim @ulquiorraswife @scaramochi-lover @beriiov @anastaxiah @swivy123 @existing-apparently @sunnyskiesv2 @r0ttenhearts (?) @annoying-and-upset @beyaaaafr

<3 M

[kazuharem]

“Quatervois” ↠ Childe

"Hold me tight just a little longer, I don't want the night to be over"

Part I: "Hiraeth"

Characters: Childe x GN!Reader (You)

Genre: Angst with a hopeful ending! (･ω<;)☆

Word Count: 5,326

A/N: I got it down so bad for this man, it's not even funny anymore (⋟﹏⋞) Definitely recommend reading Part I first because there are some references to it. Finally back after like 2 years hehe~

Inspired by this prompt:

"You're upset one night and in need of comfort. You subconsciously show up at your enemy's house, but as they open the door, confused as to why you're here. You backtrack, saying it was a mistake, and that you shouldn't be here. You start walking away, but your enemy calls your name, telling you to come inside and 'We can go back to hating each other tomorrow.'"

Zhongli is a ChildexReader shipper

A03 Link: here

Reblogs are much appreciated! 🙏🏼

QUATERVOIS: FR. (n.) a cross roads; a critical decision or turning point in one's life

What happens when it's over When we've breathed our last breath And we've loved each other to death Can you tell me what happens?

Raindrops hit the marbled cobblestones, dyeing them gray. It mutes the world and all its noises, save for the incessant patter. Childe eyes the humble, little cottage where you had taken up residence and he breathes out, the puff of air momentarily parting the rain in front of him. He ducks out from the shelter of the tree, ignoring how the rain drenches him instantaneously as he makes his way towards the door.

He’s not supposed to be here, not supposed to see how you were doing. But he gave into the growing curiosity that was consuming him and now his fist is mere inches from meeting the wood of your door. Childe hesitates, a sharp pain at his side makes him hiss, but he ignores it in favor of attempting to knock again.

“…Childe?” The voice he would know from anywhere sounds behind him; his name tinged with disbelief. Childe pauses before turning slightly to meet you. A bewildered look passes over your face before it settles into one of caution.

“Hey…” he exhales, brain scrambling frantically to come up with a response. “I was just-”

“What are you doing here?” You interrupt as you approach him slowly, your actions clearly defensive.

Good question. What was he doing here?

“I’m…just leaving,” he offers a faint smile, “I was worried-I didn’t mean-” his words tumble over themselves in their hurry to exit. It makes your eyebrows crease in further confusion. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have come here,” he finally admits quietly in defeat. He makes to walk away when you notice dark crimson staining the gray of his uniform and your eyes widen.

“Wait!” You grab his arm, wrenching him to face you fully, the movement causes him to wince. “You’re bleeding,” Your tone is accusatory as your eyes narrow, trying to figure out how deep the wound is.

“Ah…” Childe coughs, “It’s nothing, I’ll be going now.”

“Like hell you are!” The blatant curse makes Childe stop, a smile appearing unknowingly on his face as he stares at you. You deflate visibly under his gaze as you mutter, “Come inside, you’re hurt.” You note his apprehension. “We can go back to being enemies tomorrow,” You add against your better judgment, but an innate urge to stem the maroon blotch that has been steadily growing overrules all rational thought.

Childe starts to shake his head, “I’ve troubled you enough, I shouldn’t have come.”

What should’ve ended with Childe walking away turns downhill in an instant as Childe stumbles and you catch him reflexively when he pitches forward. “Childe?”

“I’m sorry…I-” It is all Childe gets out before you feel his head land squarely on your shoulders.

“Childe!” You gasp in panic when you feel searing heat throughout his entire body. From the looks of it, he was running a fever. And a high one at that. “What troubles have you gotten into?” The words slip unannounced out of your mouth. You frown at yourself, but even you couldn’t leave him out in the rain. Struggling under his weight, you manage to unlock your door and drag his limp body over to the couch. You waste no time taking off his gray jacket and unbuttoning his shirt to assess his injuries. Scrutinizing eyes rake over countless scars across the expanse of his chest and stomach before they settle on the culprit, and you curse softly to yourself. There is a deep gash on his abdomen, putrid purple smoke oozing slowly from within. It’s undoubtedly the work of a Rifthound. “Why were you in Inazuma?” You scold the silent man, leaning back on your heels to wrack your brain. You had no medicine for treating Rifthound wounds in your house. That much, you knew. There was no other option, you had to get to Bubu Pharmacy for the herbs that could stave off Rifthound poison. Hesitatingly, you glance down at the russet haired man, unconscious on your couch. Bubu Pharmacy, thankfully, wasn’t far from your humble abode. Surely he would be fine for a few minutes? You reason to yourself as you stand up with a sigh. He’s a Harbinger, after all. A voice pipes up, and you’re reminded of a hydro blade aimed at your throat, crackling lightning hurling towards your head.

I wonder where the love goes When pleasure turns to pain When the memories fade away Can you tell me what happens?

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the memory as you start towards the door. A last look at the sleeping soldier before the door closes behind you with a soft snap. What matters now is he’s hurt, and you have to heal him. You tell yourself as you set off in the rain. It’s not the time to dwell in memories.

The trek to Bubu Pharmacy did not take long and soon enough, Herbalist Gui hands you a paper wrapped package with the necessary herbs needed to make a salve for Rifthound poison. Thanking the herbalist, you take care to tuck the herbs on your person as you prepare to set off.

“Hm, so it was Rifthounds,” a deep voice, rich in timber, rumbles above your head and you look up to see Zhongli holding an umbrella out for you. “Allow me to escort you home,” he invites with a wave of his hand.

“Zhongli,” you nod in greeting as you accept his offer. Zhongli follows you, his steps in tandem with yours, both of you navigating through the once bustling streets of Liyue. The rain is coming down harder and no sane Liyuean would be caught out and about.

“The rascal did come to see you,” Zhongli muses, a chuckle emerges. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“You...knew?” You pause to look at the ex-Archon, who simply nods at your question.

“Childe came to see me mere moments before I saw you at Bubu Pharmacy. I had presumed he was going to go find you. I told him to get his wound taken care of first. But it seems that he went against my better judgement.” The former God smiles ruefully. “I am surprised, however, that you came alone. Surely, he would’ve asked to come along.”

Exhaling slowly, you tell the funeral parlor consultant that the Harbinger is currently unconscious. The man nods sagely beside you. The two of you start on the little mountain path that leads out of Liyue. “Why would he come to see me?” The question is asked, more to yourself. You meant it to be rhetorical, but Zhongli answers you anyway.

“Why indeed?” He echoes you, helping you up the stone steps. “You should ask him. Why would he, whilst hurt and injured, rush from Inazuma in search of you? Why would he refuse to get his wounds treated beforehand, only to faint in front of you? You know him well. Tartaglia, the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers, would never allow anyone to see him in this weak state, and yet-” Zhongli trails off to look at you, his gaze unwavering and knowing. He didn’t need to finish speaking. The implication of his words hangs low in the air, and you swallow hard.

“We’re enemies,” the conviction in your voice is weak. “We have nothing to do with each other anymore.” Zhongli’s brow raises, challenging. “I-I just don’t want him to die on my doorstep, that’s it.” You rush before he can speak. You are sure that you are the only one who believes the words, and even then, you’re not quite sure you believe even yourself.

There is a small smile playing at the edge of former Archon’s mouth. “Hm,” he acquiesces gently, stooping low to fit under the wooden beam that hangs in front of your door. “He talks a lot about you,” the sudden admission makes you falter, trembling hand unable to fit the key into the lock. “Well, he wants to talk about you,” Zhongli corrects himself with a soft sigh. “Every time he stops himself. I see it in his eyes. Whenever we would have our chats…he’s bursting to ask me about you.”

You stare down at your shaking hand. “I wasn’t aware the two of you kept contact after…” your voice trails off, an inescapable bitterness seeping into your words.

The God of Geo hums, “I consider Childe a good friend. I treasure our conversations.”

More like his mora, you add, a bit vitriolic, in your mind, but you offer Zhongli a blank, polite smile.

The next thing Zhongli says knocks the wind out of you, “The contract I forged was between the Tsarista and I. Not with Childe. The contract made was decided a very long time-”

“Stop,” you cut him off, feeling faint. You’re supposed to be enemies. Childe betrayed you. You got betrayed. He used you to follow the orders of the Tsaritsa, you chant in your head. You’re supposed to be enemies.

You knew you were looking for something, no-someone to blame. And if Childe didn’t betray you… Your teeth ground together.

But he did. He kept secrets from you. He tried to kill you. He betrayed you.

“My apologies,” the former Archon murmurs softly, sensing your inner turmoil. He watches as you compose yourself and finally insert the key into the lock. “It’s just-” Zhongli stops himself. Golden eyes that held centuries worth of wisdom crinkle into a small smile, surveying you. You feel seen. Your eyes skip away from his. “Patch him up nicely, won’t you? I’d miss my conversation companion dearly if he dies.”

“Sure…” your voice is hoarse. “I’ll dump him on your doorstep afterwards.”

Zhongli nods sagely, “Much appreciated. Then I shall take my leave. Have a good night.”

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

“That’s why I love you!” An exhilarated laugh bursts from his throat, as he sprawls, breathless on the ground, hydro blades dissipating. You stutter to a halt, staring hard at him. You stand over him, the tip of your sword shakes slightly above his throat before it clatters on the ground next to him. He stills once he realizes what he said, mirth quickly disappearing in a slight panic. The two of you stare at each other in shock and you wait, not letting a single breath out. You expect him to refute, to say it was a joke, to laugh it off, but he does nothing of the sort as light-pink colors his cheeks. You think to yourself, had the situation been different, you would’ve teased him about the way the Harbinger looks. He was supposed to be the vanguard of the Tsaritsa, and yet he lays before you, nervous. Nervous at the thought that you, could reject him. Tartaglia, battle hungry warrior, nervous. Tartaglia, whom you’ve just defeated mere seconds ago. Tartaglia, who looks way too happy for someone who just got bested in battle. Tartaglia, who just confessed he loves you.

“…Childe?” A hoarse echo of his name escapes your lips. You’re supposed to be drinking in your victory over your practice duel, supposed to be pestering him to pay for all your meals in the next week as is customary when one wins a duel against the Harbinger.

“I’m not going to take it back, Comrade,” Azure eyes glance up at yours before quickly darting away, “I…didn’t mean to confess like this,” he laughs nervously, “…But my feelings for you are sincere.”

You throw yourself down with a huff next to him. “So,” you drawl, and he hears the laughter in your voice. You’re beaming at him. “You love me, huh?”

He hums in agreement, still red in the face, “Absolutely, Comrade, you held a sword to my throat. That’s true love in my book.”

You roll over to clamber on top of him. His hands settling to grasp your hips naturally, as if they belonged there. This kind of physical touch was natural between the two of you. “I’ve been told I’m very lovable,” you start conspiratorially.

Childe is looking at you and he’s smiling, “I can see that,” his words are hushed. You lean down closer to him, and you can see the bobble of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

“Childe. Tartaglia,” you begin slowly, “Ajax…” you whisper his real name, and his hands tighten on your hips. “I am going to kiss you now.”

He’s grinning as the two of you get closer. You can hear his heart drumming a frantic beat. It matches yours. “Thank Archons, are you sure I lost our duel?”

Laughter flows unrestrained when your lips meet his.

That had been the first time you swore you saw a light shining within those deadened pupils. The very same eyes that had witnessed countless horrors in the abyss, the very same that had turned a frightened fourteen-year-old boy into a bloodthirsty warrior, adrenaline fueling his veins, the penchant to fight bubbling below the surface. And you’ve only witnessed that look when he’s looking at you.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

Idly, you wonder to yourself, if that moment was fake. After all, good actors never break character. You can’t help your thoughts, but you grit your teeth as you wring out another cool rag, moving to switch the one on his forehead. You lift the bundle of bandages and herbs as you check his wound, making a soft pleased sound when you no longer can see the purple smoke steaming. Sitting back on your heels with a sigh, as you let your eyes roam over his sleeping figure. Childe sleeps, unaware of his audience. His eyelashes flutter softly with each breath, and you allow yourself to admire each little freckle that dots his face and chest.

Maybe I'm the one that we should blame For never thinking we'd end up this way I don't need answers I need you to stay

“What am I doing?” The question is hushed, depraved. You sigh softly and you move to stand up when a warm hand wraps loosely around your wrist.

“Stay…” Childe whispers hoarsely, eyes still closed. “Don’t go…”

It’s the fever talking, you try to reason with yourself. He’s delirious.

The next word is what makes you utter defeat.

“…Please…”

Your resolve crumbles like the sandcastles you and Childe built so long ago, washing away from the waves as you settle back down on the floor, gazing up at the sleeping figure. Childe’s fingers trail down your hand and grasps yours, interjecting his fingers between the slots of yours.

It’s muscle memory, you try to ignore the sudden spike of your beating heart. But you were fighting a losing battle, and you knew it.

“…Stay…” he mumbles, turning ever so slightly towards you. You resign yourself to your fate, resting your cheek against the sofa, intent to study his features. It’s times like this that you are reminded of the way you would admire his sleeping face on the rare occasions in which you awoke first. Childe would always wake before you, so the moments where you can look down on his sleeping face were fleeting at best.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

“Enjoying the view?” Childe murmurs sleepily and you startle, hastily lifting your finger where it had been tracing indecipherable shapes on his cheek.

You’re about to refute when he yawns and opens his eyes fully to meet yours, cupping his hand against your runaway hand, trapping it close to his cheek. “Hi,” he smiles, eyes crinkling softly at the corners as he nuzzles into your palm. Like a cat, you think, allowing him to do so. Childe turns his head and presses a kiss to the ring glinting on your pinky. It sends a tingle through your body, warm and pleasant. An indescribable feeling wells up inside you, but you don’t mind it.

I love you, you want to say.

“Hi,” you reply instead, “Sleep well?” You think he already knows the words you wanted to say. How could he not, with the way he looks upon you, like you’re the sun and the stars and the only light in his life? Surely he knows. He must.

Childe nods, sleep still etched in the lines of his face. “Were you writing something?” He’s smiling roguishly, the sight never fails to make your heart race and you crack a small grin.

“Yeah,” you admit, cheeks coloring gently, admitting defeat. Your lips curl in amusement.

The russet-haired male raises an eyebrow, silently questioning as he continues to gaze at you, the fondness in his eyes is innumerable.

You gently remove your hand from his grasp and place it back onto his cheek. “M-I-N-E,” you spell out, mapping out the curves of each letter on his cheek. “Mine,” you breathe out with finality, settling back on your heels as you await his judgement.

A grin unfurls and you think to yourself that there is finally a light that shines within those azure pupils. It’s a sight you knew you’d treasure forever. He reaches up for you then and you meet him halfway. “Yours,” he murmurs a promise, so sure you had no choice but to believe in it. “I’m yours,” he says again when his lips finally meet yours.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

Please don't let this love die young If I'm gonna lose someone Don't let it be you

You blink. Instead of the morning light throwing sunbeams across Childe’s face, you’re met with the dark shadows of candlelight. You cast another glance at your unconscious patient and can’t help but think of those times when the two of you whispered honeyed promises to each other. Unconsciously, your gaze flits to his gloved hand and your throat tightens. There is a silver band on his pinky finger. Why does he still wear it? You ask yourself. Wasn’t our relationship a front for him to carry out the Tsaritsa’s plans? Your gaze wanders to your own hand where his fingers are still wrapped tightly. The line on your finger is still there, shades lighter than the rest of your skin, where it was once covered by a similar band to Childe. What does it mean? You want someone to answer these burning questions, but internally, you think you should already know the answers.

Maybe…Maybe… Poisonous thoughts whispers traitorously along your spine, breathing out small flickers of hope.

You had promised him that the next time the two of you met, you would meet each other as foes rather than lovers.

Enemies don’t let each other sleep on their couches, a voice chimes in your head, they certainly don’t patch up huge wounds on each other and save them from potential death.

“Shut up,” you exhale a sigh. Setting your head against the rough fabric of the couch, swirling thoughts of old makes your head spin. You watch Childe’s chest rise and fall steadily. It hits you when you realize how vulnerable a position he is in. You could strike him dead. You were supposed to be enemies. And yet, here you sit, letting your hand be held by the one who you’re supposed to cross blades with.

“Tartaglia, the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers, would never allow anyone to see him in this weak state…” the ghost of Zhongli’s previous words dances down your spine. Your mouth sets in a thin line. Your thoughts betray you yet again, forcing you to reminisce of the memories that plagued you ever since you split. Ever since, Childe stood forlorn in front of you as you hurled a silver ring at him.

What if he keeps the promise? A tiny voice speaks up, a tiny light of hope. Why else would he still wear the ring?

Your memories pull up a russet-haired little boy, a striking resemblance to his big brother, smiling at you as he divulged with you a sacred chant, a Snezhnayan nursery rhyme, a pinky promise.

“My big brother is the best! He always keeps his promises!” He beams at you, the smile on his face stretches from ear to ear. “He always brings me the best toys!”

And you think of the promise uttered under the moonlight, with the stars as the witness.

“I promise, I promise I’ll take you to Snezhnaya, to meet my family.”

Those words murmured so fervently against the silver of the rings marked a vow. It went beyond the simple notion of visiting the frost fallen country. It was a promise that the both of you understood to be something that was supposed to last. In any other cultures, it would have acted as an engagement.

A tear traces its way down your cheek. The sting of the betrayal is still as fresh as ever even after all this time. But those feelings that you buried so deep within erupt, sparking tiny bursts of fires. They alight together, bringing with them the warm sensation of all the memories you had spent with him. Careless, carefree, no Gnosis, just a couple in love. Love. You were lovers. A quiet sob breaks from your throat. As hard as you had tried, you were still, undeniably in love with this man who had held a blade to your throat. You knew within your heart, the man who tried to drown Liyue took no pleasure in the act. It was a means to enact the Tsarista’s plans. Though he yearns for battle, there were sides you had been privy to witness that no one has ever seen. The doting big brother who would rather put himself in danger to protect an innocent child’s dream. The filial son who brought his family a good life. The gentle mischievous lover who alighted your veins and molded himself to your core. And you knew no one would ever set your heart aflame as he had.

Exhaustion catches up to you, the lateness of the night determined by the tiny stub of candle still burning fiercely away. You feel the tendrils of sleep prick at your eyes, and you unwillingly succumb, memories of him accompanying you to dreamland.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

In my dreams we're growing older But I wake up to the truth That I'm scared we're gonna lose Tell me it won't happen

Childe wakes with a start, looking around wildly before his senses alert him he was not in danger. The pink glow from the window tells him that dawn is approaching. Gingerly, he sits up with a groan, wincing at the flash of pain from the movement. He quickly notes the neatly wrapped bandages on his chest. Childe raises a hand to his temples but is stopped by a sudden weight and he peers over to see you kneeling on the floor, head leaning against the sofa, your hand still in his grasp.

The Harbinger blinks slowly as he tries to make sense of the events. The last thing he remembers is the rain and the complicated expression on your face as you gaze up at him. Childe swallows and deduces that he must’ve passed out after that. Dammit, he curses internally. He wasn’t supposed to come see you and he certainly wasn’t supposed to be lying on your couch. Using his free hand, he examines the bandages. It was undoubtedly your work. No one else would be bothered to wrap wounds with such patience and precision after all. Why did you take him in and patch him up, instead of leaving him at your doorstep? He wonders. The answer to that was obvious. It’s your very nature that you try to help everyone you come across, friend or foe be damned. Childe swallows hard and glances at you again. Did you over exhaust yourself taking care of him? The floor couldn’t be comfortable, he thinks to himself as he swings his legs over the edge of the couch. He carefully untangles his hand from yours and he stands shakily, breaths coming out slightly labored, but he ignores that in favor of reaching for you. Bile rises in his throat when he notices dried tear tracks down your cheeks and his chest twists unpleasantly. Did he cause that?

What was the reason for your tears? He couldn’t help but wonder.

“I’m sorry…” he whispers an apology as he hoists you up. You don’t stir and he places you gently on the couch. A hand hovers above your cheek hesitatingly, but Childe retracts his fingers with a sigh. He had no right to do that anymore. He is no longer the man who can wipe away your tears for you, especially when he is the cause of them.

A quiet sigh escapes your mouth as you slumber, your brows scrunch up, as if experiencing something unpleasant. Before he even realizes it, his hand is cupping your cheek tenderly. Even in your unconscious, you seek his warmth, nuzzling into his palm.

“Starlight…” your past endearment slips out, unbidden. “Do you invite all your enemies into your house like this?” There’s no ounce of derision, only a fond helplessness heavy in Childe’s voice. His thumb trace gently on your cheek. “You were so determined in calling me your foe and yet you drag me in and patched me up.”

In the faint light of the morning sun, a man confesses quietly to his sleeping lover.

“You have always been the better half of me…”

Childe sighs. He should go before you wake. He’s overstayed his welcome. After all, what kind of enemies spend the night with each other? Unwillingly, he parts from you and you frown.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs another apology. It seems that all he ever does is apologize. He hunts around your house quietly for a blanket, draping it over you, before gazing down at you one last time. He commits the image of you slumbering to memory. It should be enough for him. After all, he no longer has the privilege of looking at you with the gaze of a lover. Childe stands up noiselessly. It’s time for him to leave. He makes his way to the door, before stopping slightly and pulls a letter from his pocket. The man leaves it on the table and places a silver ring on top. With one last glance at you, he exits, taking great care to shut the door as gently as he can. And just like that, the Harbinger vanishes into the soft morning light.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

So before it's really over Can we have a little faith Baby say it ain't too late It's all that I'm asking

Sunlight is hitting your face. You squint, annoyed and confused as to why sunbeams are blinding you. Last you recall, your bedroom did not face the window. So then why? Grumbling, you open your eyes as you stretch. You freeze when your legs fall off the edge of the couch and you realize you are in your living room. There is a blanket wrapped around you.

“What-” You shoot up as the sudden realization hits. Childe came to see you last night. Childe was hurt. Childe was here.

“Childe?” Warily, you look around. There were the medical supplies on the ground next to you, the very ones you had used to nurse Childe’s wounds, but there was no sign of the russet-haired man anywhere. You frown. He had been in bad condition last night, surely he couldn’t have healed that quickly? Your teeth sink into your lips. “Why should I worry about him?” With a sigh, you stand up and start to get ready for your day, trying to put the thoughts of the Harbinger away.

It doesn’t take you long to spot the letter sitting on your table.

To my dearest enemy,

How have your travels been? Have you been enjoying your adventures?

Those are all the words I wanted to say, but no longer hold the privilege of asking, as you are more than happy to call us enemies. It was my fault, I admit. But on the idle days when I am not tracking the whereabouts of my colleagues, I often find myself and my thoughts drifting to you. Please forgive my impertinence, my dear Comrade. Someone like you is rather hard to forget, after all.

I wanted to take this opportunity to formally apologize to you. Whether you’ll hear me out or not, I’ll leave that up to you. Just allowing me the chance to get it off my chest, is one I would be forever indebted to.

It’s true I was after Rex Lapis’ Gnosis. It’s true I betrayed your trust. But this is where all the truths end. My mission was to obtain the Gnosis. But as you know, both you and I were unaware of the plot behind the scenes, in which Rex Lapis already promised his Gnosis to the Tsarista via a contract. But my mission was to obtain the Gnosis. Whatever happened along the way was not dictated by Her Royal Highness, the Tsarista. And yes, that includes, naturally, us. You were someone I greatly enjoyed sparring with. I spoke the truth when I told Teucer that if I would travel the world with you if I could leave my job behind. Had I not blurted my confession that fateful day when you beat me…perhaps I would still be holding onto these sacred feelings to myself.

I’ll tell you, dearest Comrade, you were never my mission. You could never be my mission. You are the brightest star in the sky, the one I trust the most, the better half of me. My missive was never you, but I am forever grateful to have met you, to have crossed blades with you. I am forever honored to have loved you.

My dearest Starlight, if you’re still reading this letter (and I thank you), everything that I have felt for you, every one of my actions towards you, were genuinely me. You asked who was the person who stood in front of you. I will answer you now. I am just Ajax, a simple man who dreams of being an adventurer and had the greatest honor of being able to love you. I made you a promise. I have always kept my promises. I’d hate the first one I’d break be to you. The ring is yours. I am returning it to its rightful owner. Allow me to fulfill my promises to you. When the world falls at my feet, there is no one else I want by my side than you.

If you still wish to view us as enemies, then I thank you for the time we spent. They truly were the greatest moments of my life. But…if you choose to believe me, I’ll be waiting for you. You know where I’ll be.

I always keep my promises, Starlight. Pinky promise.

I love you.

Yours,

Ajax

You swallow hard, tears threatening to spill over as you clutch Childe’s letter. The contents repeat themselves in your head. You were never my mission. You are the brightest star. I always keep my promises. I love you.

The Cryo Archon had already obtained the Gnosis. There was no reason for Childe to lie to you. Your relationship was not his mission. His feelings were not an act.

You could never be my mission.

My missive was never you.

And deep in your heart, you knew his words to be true. Maybe you’ve always known. But that sliver of doubt had kept you wary, made you cautious.

You were never my mission.

Slowly and surely, you grasp the silver ring and carefully, you slip it onto your pinky finger, where it sits, still the perfect size. You walk numbly to your door, open it slowly, and you step outside.

I’ll be waiting. You know where to find me.

I love you

Please don't let this love die young If I'm gonna love someone Then let it be you

FIN.

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[lulu-thinks]

Just passing really quickly to talk about how GOOD Childe looks in the new video mihoyo release. That's all, enjoy de pictures