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charliemwrites · 4 months

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“Sometimes, I feel like I’m too selfish with you.”

A simple sentence, one filled with a sentiment that many have felt before when balancing a relationship. But they were enough to bring Nikto’s entire universe to a standstill when they escaped your mouth. You? Too selfish?? Especially when it comes to him????? You could demand that he crucify himself for you, and he would walk into the arms of the cross like he is returning home, breathing in the scent of the cedar as it mixes with the iron of the nails that he strikes through his feet and hands and the blood that weeps from the wounds. You could ask him to drown the rest of the world, and he would tear the heavens open to cause waters to rise. He could become a plague upon humanity at the slightest hint of your desires, and you worry that you are being too selfish with him? When you have barely asked a single thing of him? Your commandments, though they are laws onto him and his actions, though craved into the wall of his bunk, were not orders. You never asked for his devotion, never demanded that he follow you, worship you, and, oh doesn’t that make you all the more worthy of it? So why do you now stand in front of him, shying away from his gaze, looking like a guilty sinner as you confess your perceived selfishness of him? Had he failed you so completely that you doubted his fidelity? What else could he possibly do to prove it to you? Every act of devotion the Bible has taught him is either is impossible for him (there is no family to sacrifice, no world-ending flood to build an ark for, nothing) or would go against your happiness (he would throw himself into fire while singing you praises, but he knows that goes against your first commandment and would make you extremely upset instead of happy). He feels trapped in that moment, staring at you, feeling like he failed you as your most devoted servant, when you finally speak again.

“You never ask anything of me. Every day, you follow behind me like my shadow, you treat me as some sort of deity, yet you ask for nothing from me. After I asked you to help me when I was injured, you asked for nothing in return. Even when I know you are aroused, you don’t even ask for time away from me to take care of it yourself, and I know I shouldn’t force you to do anything with me like that, I know that it’s probably a physical reaction more than you actually being attracted to me, but the fact that you won’t even separate from me to jack off when you need it all because I selfishly told you to always come back to me that one time, or because you feel like you owe me for being your nurse, and it makes me feel so selfish that I haven’t done anything to free you from me, when you deserve it, you deserve happiness, and release and freedom and-“

Nikto has been your shadow for a while now, has been on the receiving end of you talking endlessly multiple times before. It was one of the things that first made him comfortable with you: you talking at him instead of to him because you knew he didn’t want to talk. But never before had this habit made him feel quite so desperately hopeless as it currently is. You think he isn’t attracted to you? You are more beautiful than words could possibly describe! He could know every language to ever exist, and still be left desperately searching for a way to properly tell you just how stunning he finds every single piece of you. No picture or drawing, no landscape, no human, no galaxy, no poem or verse, nothing could EVER come close to being even a fraction as beautiful as you are. And if Nikto were someone else, maybe he could will himself into saying this out loud. But he isn’t. Nikto is only himself, could only ever be himself, and these thoughts in his head stay swirling around while his tongue feels like lead within his mouth. Nikto isn’t a man of words, so he does the best he can, and he grabs you gently, and kisses you.

It’s not the best kiss. You were cut off in the middle of talking, and Nikto, so panicked over the idea of you not knowing his worship is so much more than simple Hero Worship for his nurse, didn’t even remove his soft mask that he wears around base. But Nikto is desperate, and so are his lips underneath the soft cotton of the mask. They work against your own, and it’s clumsy at best. Any kisses Nikto has had before were lost to him in the trauma of his rebirth, leaving him unsure of his actions but certain in his intent. Yes, he may not know how to kiss you in this new body you claim he inhabits, but fuck if the feeling of your lips against his, even through the mask, doesn’t feel like the closest thing to heaven he will ever find. And a part of him feels like he has been knocked into the pits of hell with how hot he burns for you, finally able to feel some of the thrumming arousal that had been living within him, just for you.

If Nikto is left with a growing wet spot in his boxers when he pulls away from your lips, he won’t tell. At least, not if you don’t ask about it. Because he could never deny his Savior anything that you ask. And when you look at him, dazed but with stars in those beautiful eyes, and asks him “please, just ask for what you want. Don’t just secretly covet it. I want to give you as much as you’ve given me”, he agrees, because there is nothing else for him to do.

A new commandment for his wall, a new law by which he lives. And he already knows the first thing he will ask for from you, since the taste has left him starving.

Just… no words. Incredible.

#these are being added to the au #because they’re brilliantly written and I was given permission #and because they deserve to be there

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koinotame · 5 months

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all yours and all mine

word count: 2.5K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, alcohol consumption (childe is drunk, but there’s no depiction of drinking itself), vague implication of breaking and entering and subsequent murder, dehumanisation/objectification (not at reader), they/them is used for reader

a/n: this a repost (lightly edited)! and a sequel to this. like the previous installments, you can read this as a modern au but (this one in particular) it'll make much more sense with the previous context. also on ao3! no intruders were harmed in the production of this chapter

"[nameeee]—"

the way he whines out your name, pulling you into stumbling arms before you can say anything in return, is more than enough to tell you ajax is almost definitely drunk.

he giggles when you wrap your arms around his back, then abrubtly stops. "ah wait, your name is sacred and I shouldn’t use it so casually…. I’m sorry, please forgive me, your grace~"

…your grace?

well. that confirms your suspicions, you guess?

"you don’t sound very sorry," you quip without any real malice, trying to close the door with him still wrapped around you. the guy who dropped him off (some friend of ajax’s you’ve seen once or twice before) snickers behind his hand and waves when you shoot him a grateful look.

ajax giggles into the crown of your head. "that’s because I love you~ and I love using your name… but not as much as I love you."

"mhm, I love you t—" you squeak when he suddenly throws his arms around your waist, picking you up and twirling you around. he responds to your protests with more laughter, but he does put you down swiftly and instead stuffs his face into your shoulder.

"they said they love me…. I’m so lucky, ahh." he keeps going before you can ask him about the title he used earlier. "you’re all mine, and I’m all yours."

come to think about it… didn’t he say something similar when he was proposing?

"but," he whispers into your neck like he’s telling you some secret only the two of you can be privy to, "even if you weren’t all mine, as long as I’m all yours, I wouldn’t mind."

he rubs his face across your neck and shoulder like a happy cat marking his owner, his hold on your waist tightening slightly. your hand comes up to cart through his hair, and he starts making some sort of rumbling noise.

is he… is he purring?

you try to push all of that out of your thoughts and focus on making sure he’s okay. "…hey, when’s the last time you drank water?"

he stays quiet for a bit, then speaks up just as you’re about to repeat your question. "I dunno."

you sigh, barely registering the whimper that escapes him. "could you sit down?"

he whines, his arms tightening even more. "I don’t wanna leave you…"

"don’t be like that. you need some water… and some medicine." when he doesn’t move, you decide it’s time to pull out the 'good boy' strategy. "I can’t carry both you and the water, so please be good and go sit, okay?"

he stays quiet for a bit again, before his arms hesitantly retract from you. "mmgh, okay…"

he obediently trots over to the couch (not before shooting you a sad look). by the time you come back, he’s discarded his jacket and shoes. you make a note to move them once you get him tucked in.

"I missed you," he whines out, making grabby hands in your direction.

"it’s been three minutes, you sap."

then, figuring he won’t mind too much, you hook your fingers into his mouth and gently pry it open. he makes some sort of choking noise and immediately propels backwards, covering his mouth with his hands.

for a second you’re worried you went too far, but looking at his face he seems more embarrassed than uncomfortable. his eyes look off to the side, his entire face flushed. "don’t look, I don’t want you to think I’m gross."

biting your tongue, you try to hold back your chuckle. "you’re so adorable I could eat you up."

he whines, hands still covering his mouth, and sinks down into the couch further. "I wish you would…"

it’s a weird thing to say, but you chalk it off to his alcohol-addled brain not being able to convey himself properly.

you reach out the pill to him and he takes it without complaint, swallowing it and then the rest of the glass you hand him. when he pats the space next to him and you sit down, he immediately slides his head onto your lap.

his hand comes up to play with your hair, his gaze wistful and distant.

after several moments of silence, he pipes up quietly. "I was made for you, you know."

"mhm," your hand cups his cheek. "and I was made for you."

he frowns, his hand coming down to press against yours. "no."

you tilt your head. "no?" you know he’s always been more focused on you, but there seems to be something deeper to this than just him having low self worth… but then again, you’ve never been good at reading others.

"no," he repeats, still frowning. "you never understand. I was literally made for you. without you, I wouldn’t exist." his hand drops and he sighs before you have the opportunity to really process his words. "it’s flattering when you say you love me and that you were made for me too, but…"

you don’t say anything, your hands suddenly feeling cold and clammy.

his gaze is intense when it turns to you again. "you should treat me like the tool I am… then I wouldn’t get all confused."

his hand clutches at his shirt, around where his heart is. "every time you treat me so gently, I feel like my insides are exploding. it makes me feel like I’m special…"

he stops for a few seconds, blinking blearily at you.

"…to you. like I’m special to you." he repeats the words as if they’re hard for him to believe, as if he can’t accept that you’d care for him even now. as if the idea of you loving him is entirely foreign to him.

weakly, you swallow. "…you should get to bed."

he groans suddenly, his hand coming to cover his eyes. "uugh, I don’t want to get up… I still need to clean up that pest that broke in…"

he needs to what.

"ajax." you shake him, urgency in your tone. "ajax, what."

he groans again, flopping around a bit. "don’t tell them, they’d just get mad 'nd never approve… if they get mad and hate me, I’ll die."

"no you won’t," you shake him again. he whines. "ajax, what did you do?"

"you don’t understanddd," he starts, dragging his hands down his face in a way that would be comical in any other situation, then rolling over and squishing his face against your tummy. "they’re the reason I was even born. if they get mad… my life is over."

and— you’ve always been aware your fiancé has some problems, and maybe didn’t have the happiest childhood, and has a bad tendency to put you first no matter what, but this is way beyond any of that.

is this… how he’s felt the entire time?

you briefly wonder if you made him feel this way, or if the idea of anyone loving him and treating him kindly is alien to him.

"I was so worried, you know," he starts before you can say anything, "when I first saw them, they didn’t recognise me… or any of the others. but the second I saw them, I knew. that was them. that was who I was born for. my whole life’s purpose."

your breath hitches. how… how are you supposed to respond to that? tears sting at your eyes. maybe it’s ironic of you to feel this way, but you can’t stand how fond he sounds.

"I’m so happy…" his arms tighten around you. "even if they only know me as their sweet roommmate ajax and not the ajax that would give up everything for them, that would take over the world and sacrifice his entire life for them…" he sighs dreamily. "I’m so happy."

the more he talks, the less his words make sense, and the more your stomach drops.

"ajax," you try shaking him again. "come on, get up. you should sleep."

he whines but dutifully unrolls from your stomach, blinking up sleepily at you. then he puts up his fist and goes "woof!"

and, despite everything, you stifle a chuckle.

"come on, big boy, get up." you pat his cheek gently, affectionately.

he makes some noise of complaint but sits up anyway, rubbing at his eye. it’s like he’s forgotten that he thought you were someone else just moments ago. "mmgh, good tools shouldn’t need help from their owners…"

your smile falls. "ajax, we’re engaged. I’m not your owner."

he shakes his head, still facing away from you. "no, you do own me."

nervously, you try, "…you mean your heart?"

his head lolls to the side. "mhm, that too." he adds it on like an afterthoughts, and the heavy feeling in your gut intensifies.

"if we’re engaged… that means you can still return me, right?" he keeps going before you can ask about his word choice or rebuke his thought process. "then I gotta work extra hard to keep appealing to you…"

he starts counting off on his hands. "you don’t like it when I take care of our household, or when I cook for you, or when I get you stuff…" he trails off, then lights up just as you’re about to tell him you don’t dislike him when he does any of that, you just don’t want to take advantage of him. "oh! what about my body?"

his empty eyes stare at you as he brings your hands to the bottom of his shirt. a whine escapes him when you don’t move your hands.

"my body is no good either?"

"your body is fine," you let go of his clothes to intertwine your hand with his. "and I don’t mind if you do stuff for me, really! I just… you’re always so eager, and it makes me feel kind of bad. I don’t want to take advantage of you."

he tilts his head, looking genuinely confused. "why not?"

it’s your turn to blink at him in confusion. "wh… what do you mean?"

he squeezes your hands. "isn’t it good if I’m useful to you…? I’m all yours, you shouldn’t hesitate to use me. I…" he looks away, almost bashfully, though his eyes keep darting back to your face. "want you to take advantage of me. that means I'm useful and worth keeping around, right?"

"that’s, um, why." your throat is dry. "I don’t… I don’t want either of us to think of it as using you."

he stays quiet for a few seconds, and you almost think you’ve finally gotten through to him. "…are you worried about me?" a lovesick smile spreads on his face and he sighs sweetly. "ahh, you’re so sweet, I love you… but I can take it. if I couldn’t, then I’d have no right to call myself yours."

he brings one of your hands to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to it. "being a weapon in this world is no good… but I can at least be a useful tool for you."

he presses another kiss to your other hand. "I want to be useful to you… it’s the least you deserve."

"I don’t deserve this much," you begin but trail off, unsure what words would fit best.

"you do." he insists, holding your stare. "you deserve so much more. if anything, I’m the one who feels selfish."

your throat runs dry.

"you should be living in a palace built especially for you, worshipped by everyone in the land… but here I am, selfishly keeping you to myself and cooped up in this small apartment. I’m greedy, insatiable, and I don’t feel bad about it at all…"

you almost don’t want to ask. "who else would even worship me? I’m really not that special."

"you are," he insists, squeezing your hands. "tons of people would. there’s those people I have the disgrace of calling coworkers, that haughty excuse of a dragon, and…" he trails off, listing some more people you don’t recognise.

it’s definitely not the most outrageous thing he’s said (a dragon? gods? worshipping you? yeah, he’s definitely drunk), but you can’t help but wonder. "aren’t you unemployed?"

he doesn’t say anything, simply staring at your intertwined hands.

"I wish our fates were intertwined like our hands," he says, and somewhere in the back of your head that sparks a small memory. "but the truth is my fate is like a string tangled up in your fingers."

you squeeze his hands in return, and he sighs. you can’t tell if it’s in fondness or something else.

"if I can’t be your tool, can I at least be your loyal knight?"

you hate the part of you that just wants to tell him yes, the part of you that wants to just surrender and stop fighting him. it’s clearly what he wants… but another part of you is just as aware that wouldn’t do any good for either of you.

instead of voicing any of that, you change the subject. "how about you go to bed now?"

he frowns. "just be’cuz my head is all fuzzy doesn’t mean I didn’t mean any of that."

I know, you want to say, and that’s the scariest part.

"ajax, please." he whimpers, but drops the topic.

it’s quiet for a couple more minutes before he pipes up again. "can we at least take a bath together before going to bed? I wanna wash your back and hair."

you sigh, dropping his hands and getting up. "fine, but no more talking about this."

he doesn’t make any noise of acknowledgement, and you’re halfway out the door before you notice. when you turn, he’s staring blankly at his empty hands. "ajax?"

his head snaps to you. "right."

he almost falls asleep while you’re washing his hair, and you’re worried he’ll fall asleep in the bath for real, but he wakes up enough to protest when you try to get out without him having had the chance to return the favour.

you try not to think too much about the claw-shaped scars on his side, about how his earlier comment about some dragon might not have been too farfetched. about how that would even be possible. about what that would mean for how he insists he was made for you.

he asks you if you really don’t like his body ("I’ve honed it for you for years," he insists! you can only hope that’s an exaggeration on his part) again while attempting to dry you off, then starts whining when you don’t answer him.

you usher him to bed while he continues complaining, but he falls asleep fairly quickly once you get him tucked in (and wrapped around you, a fact you’ve come to accept just comes with sleeping with ajax).

it takes you a while longer to clear your own thoughts and nod off. you just hope he won’t remember any of this tomorrow.

wait, your eyes snap open just as you’re on the verge of fully falling asleep, he never answered your questions about that intruder.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #self aware au #self aware genshin #childe #tartaglia #repost #i keep being like 'nah i haven't edited this that much' and then i check and i've added 2-300 words somehow 😭#anyway. i'm done looking at this so it's getting posted and out of my mind

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