#yandere ajax x reader

[ataraxiaspainting]

As Grief Consumes.

Yan Childe x F Reader.

Synopsis: You are on the run from the eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers after he kills your husband. But soon, your fear turns into a want for revenge, and by then it is too late for you.

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence/some gore, accidental self-harm, essentially kidnapping, massive power imbalance, manipulation, and stalking.

Word Count: 4.4k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Anna Maria by bôa

Once Upon a Dream by Lana Del Ray

An Unhealthy Obsession by The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra

I Want a Girl (Just Like the Girl That Married Dear Old Dad) by The Buffalo Bills

Unwed Henry by American Murder Song

Who Is She ? by I Monster

Happy Together by Filter

Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge

Missed Me by The Dresden Dolls

The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid

“When you begin a journey of revenge, start by digging two graves: one for your enemy, and one for yourself.” – Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes

i. “The further you sink, the more you drown in lies told by both you and others.”

You had first seen the eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers when he was towering above you, unblinking, at the end of your bed. Dressed in elegant gray attire, he stood tall, exuding an air of opulence. His eyes, reminiscent of frozen azure or sapphire gems, shimmered with an ethereal glow, just like his Hydro Vision.

Initially, his absence of blinking and his predatory demeanor seemed only odd, almost as if he were a wild animal, your tiredness preventing you from seeing the situation in its entirety. 

However, once you had awoken enough from your sleep and realized that he was an intruder, a profound sense of terror and alarm engulfed you. Your husband’s snoring was the only audible thing in this moment, the Harbinger’s and your breathing. You had practically jumped out of your bed to run, not thinking. 

“That took a while.”

No. No. No, this can’t be happening. Ji told you that he was able to pay off his debt just in time. Your throat constricts, your gaze widening as your mind teeters on the brink of crumbling, all because of the presence of the person standing just a few feet from you. You can’t breathe. Tartaglia smiles at your fear like you are a new toy he had purchased and then placed on the highest shelf. 

“Why are you–”

“Shh,” He cuts your questioning short with that sound and a simple lift of his finger to his smirking lips. “I just want to chat, girly.” He whispers, putting a lazy arm over the raised footboard. “Don’t cry or scream for help, okay? We both know no one would come anyway.”

Nobody is here to help you get out of this, even Rex Lapis himself.

“Why are you here, Lord Tartaglia? That… is who you are, right? Please, he did pay off his debts.”

You don’t know what to say next. You don’t know what to say next, and it hurts you. What is one supposed to say, when their house is broken into by a Fatui Harbinger and they are just so casually standing a few steps away from you? A Fatui Harbinger who was said to be a wild card and oh so infamously conniving? Would begging for Ji to not die be a good choice? Would you die too then, whether he listens to your pleas or not? Perhaps asking him to at least make his death not painful and long would suffice. It is a gamble, no matter how you slice this situation.

Your husband is not a stranger. You know his life story and what he had done in his life. He knows your life story and actions too. Would Tartaglia listen to you if you kept repeating that Ji had paid off his debt already? Something tells you he won't listen to you, even if you speak enough to make your throat bleed.

“I doubt that.” His voice carries a cheerful melody that unsettles your stomach. “Harbingers aren’t one to be given false information, sweetie.” He chuckles as the tears that are about to fall from your eyes reflect the moonlight. “Anything you want to tell me before I get down to business? It can be anything at all.”

You find yourself tightly embracing your arms, as the frigid air playfully grazes your skin. Perhaps buried within your subconscious, you entertain the possibility that Ji may have deceived you. Maybe he fabricated a story to cease your persistent reminders about visiting Northland Bank and settling his debt with the Fatui. Alternatively, there could be an undisclosed motive behind his deception. Then again, could it be Tartaglia who is deceiving you, or perhaps you are deceiving yourself?

“Do you have to kill him?”

“Yes, princess.”

You don’t say anything for a moment after that blunt response. Tartaglia drinks up every emotion on your face like they are bottles of the sweetest cherry wine. Unfortunately for you, he does not seem the type to be a lightweight.

“Why can’t you do it another way?”

He looks out your window to the Sandbearer trees and bamboo growing in the back of your house. “Because he won’t ever be able to pay off his debt, no matter how much he works or how much he sells.”

You would think the lightness in his tone is simply him fooling around for a moment if he hadn't broken into your home and is a Fatui Harbinger. You know better than to think so foolishly. Perhaps it is simple amusement, with how his eyes look at your cold sweat traveling down your forehead to your neck, and your tears migrating down to your bare feet. You can sense the heaviness of his gaze, as it carefully observes your every action, from the not-so-subtle movement of your fingertips to the gentle flutter of your lashes. He would not be joking at a time like this.

The left side of the bed creaks as you hear Ji’s yawns and grumbles and him rubbing his eyes with his pointer fingers. Were Tartaglia and you too loud? You don’t think so. Your blood runs cold as your head turns and your fearful eyes make contact with his calm ones. 

As you move towards Ji, a wave of childhood nightmares washes over you. In those dreams, a formidable monster lurked behind, forever out of reach no matter how fast you ran. Your legs become burdensome and immobile as if shackled by iron chains. Should you cry out? Warn Ji to flee before it's too late? Tartaglia would easily catch up, but the longer you remain inert, the weightier your guilt grows.

You could still do something, can’t you?

You can still at least try, can’t you?

“[First]?” Your husband’s voice mixed in with drowsiness. “What are you doing up?”

The hand over your mouth doesn’t budge as much as you struggle and claw at it. It’s no use. Ji can’t see anything because his glasses are on the bedside table. He can’t run if he doesn’t know what is here, waiting to tear him apart into little pieces.

“My love? What’s wrong?”

Tartaglia answers before you can.

“I’m afraid your deadline has passed.”

This has to be a bad dream, so you close your eyes and wish that you would just wake up already. But you never do.

ii. “Your flames can either bring life and warmth or cause destruction.”

You woke up in the morning to a cold bed. You sit up and your neck naturally turns to your right, your tiredness keeping you from remembering Ji is dead. You somehow still wanted to check if Ji had already left for work, but he wasn’t there. There was a faint glimmer of hope as you kept denying that Ji hadn’t passed last night after all. But that glimmer was quickly followed by a crushing weight. The bed was cold, the spot where Ji usually lay being taken instead by a head of ginger hair and freckles, a strong arm holding your waist in place.

*~*~*~*

As the sun retreats into the Earth's embrace and the moon takes its place in the celestial stage, the fire dwindles to a mere glimmer of its former radiance. The flames flicker with feebleness, urging you to tend to its dwindling strength.

“Sigh… I’m traveling again today anyway. I don’t need this anymore.” You stand up and almost cry out in pain at your sprained ankle. You can hardly see Liyue Harbor from here. The only thing you can see almost clearly is the giant red gates, the lanterns so small they could be mistaken for little bits of dust or gliding flower petals. You’re thankful that you were not hurt back then and escaped before Tartaglia’s boat set sail for Snezhnaya. Now you can’t go back to Liyue until you are assured that Tartaglia has died. “Time to go.”

You start walking down the mountainside, being careful to not trip on a tree root or rock. You made that mistake before, and you surely do not want history repeating itself. Especially since your ankle just started healing, though it is not healed enough to not make you wince with every step you take. It still beats having it broken though, you suppose.

You would rather sleep, you would rather have someone here to help you through this. Before your eyelids can close again as you walk, you slap yourself. You have to pay attention, because if there are any Fatui skirmishers, mages, or agents here you have to notice them before it is too late for you. You are certain that Tartaglia gave them orders to look out for you. It is what you would have done if you were as obsessed as he was with someone you had never met before. Thankfully though your thread of fate differed from Childe’s, or at least you hoped so.

You have to keep going, it is what Ji would have wanted you to do if he was still alive.

It is what Ji would have wanted you to do. Your sword is dragged behind you, a light thunking sound audible every time it falls a bit at a small ledge. It has seen better days, that is for certain. Its edges are dull and its surface is chipped and stained. The wooden hilt is rotten and split, exposing the worn and tarnished metal beneath.

The sword is old, but there is still strength in the petals beneath all the rust and decay. Despite the more than obvious corrosion, it still manages to retain some of its original sharpness. Having any weapon is better than having none. You cannot just be here out in the wilderness by yourself like some rabbit waiting to be eaten. You have to continue to run and live. You have to, for Ji.

“Huh…?”

Just your luck. The mask the man wears is somewhat scorched and burned at the edges, likely from the fiery attacks the typical Fatui Pyro Agent wields in combat. The red mask’s surface has been ruined by heat and age, leaving it an almost brick color. Its shape is angular, giving it a harsh and intimidating appearance. Nothing is exposed, with even the nose and mouth covered by its metal.

You regret leaving that tacky tent in an instant. You raise your blade and point it at the agent, glaring. In response, the agent crosses his arms with a tch sound leaving the small holes of his mask. Would it be a bad idea to run? Is this agent fast enough to stop you? It’s another gamble, to put it simply.

*~*~*~*

The sound of the troupe of musicians’ instruments fills both you and Ji’s ears sweetly as you dance. The crackling of the fire of the outdoor cooking station provides a cozy atmosphere. You were both at peace surrounded by the warmth and comfort of the song playing and the love you shared.

A drizzle falls from the night sky, adding yet another accent to the harmony. Creating an almost hypnotic rhythm. Ji smiles at you with appreciation in his eyes. He pulls you close as you continue to dance to the melodic tunes playing in the background.

“I love you.”

*~*~*~*

But you take that chance and start running uphill, not being as careful as you were walking down. The agent chases after you as you gasp for air, your eyes going from looking at the top of the small mountain to looking at your feet to making sure you don’t trip and fall. But then you look behind you and see the agent reaching his hands out towards you, aiming to catch you before you can get very far. That is when your instinct kicks in, the rational part of your brain being replaced by pure emotion and impulse.

The agent attempts to sidestep out of the way but only manages to trip himself on a tree root as your rusty blade makes a clear and large bloody slash across his chest. He tumbles down the mountainside, his blood trailing behind him in a crimson stream. He grunts and you go back to running. Only when you are up on the top of the hill do you look down at what you have done

He lies struggling at the bottom of the mountainside. Your tunnel vision makes the world dark, leaving only one color left; the agent’s bright red blood staining the mountainside. He seems to have collapsed on a rocky part of it, his body losing the strength to stay upright. The wind blows at the crimson trails of blood, splattering them over the nearby rocks and foliage. He reaches out with a weak hand, reaching in vain for you, his voice nothing more than feeble gurgling and panting. The agent struggles to stay conscious, but the pain from the massive wound in his chest and the lack of oxygen causes him to slowly lose consciousness. He draws a final breath as he goes limp. The corpse bleeds out into the dirt and rocks, his blood mingling with the soil as he remains still and lifeless.

*~*~*~*

The soft glow of the candles illuminated the bedroom. Ji could see that you were fast asleep, your gentle breathing a testament to this. He leans in close and kisses your forehead, your eyebrows slightly contracting in your sleep, Ji feeling content and happy. A gentle breeze blows through the window, causing the curtains to flutter slightly. As he watches the candlelight dance and flicker, his mind is at ease and his heart is full of love for you. You feel safe and secure in your husband’s arms.

*~*~*~*

As soon as you are certain of his death, you step down from your perch and kneel next to the body.

Was it moral? The question hangs in the air like a noose or a guillotine’s blade as you stare down at him. Your act may have been necessary, but was it right? Is murder a justified response? Was there any chance for a peaceful resolution? What could have been?

Is this what Ji would have wanted? Would he be happy if he knew you had blood on your hands now?

iii. “As we dance, each step forward leads to another step back.”

You go to wash your hands in the body of water nearby.

You stand by the edge of the lake, looking down at your hands as you contemplate. Even though there is no physical evidence of blood on your palms, you can still feel the weight of what you have done. The water beckons you like a siren, drawing you in with the promise of being cleansed both physically and spiritually. You hesitate for a moment before dipping your hands into the water, letting the coldness refresh you. As you feel the water wash over your skin, you can’t help but wonder if the feeling of guilt will disappear with it.

“Not bad, not bad.” That is what Childe would say if he was here with you to witness what had just happened, your imagination producing a proudness in his tone that makes you almost vomit. “Seems you learned a bit from me. Cute.”

You have the urge to shield your ears from the harsh reality that the imaginary Tartaglia relished in revealing. However, you resist the temptation for now. The task at hand is to cleanse them, to rid them of impurity. They remain unwashed and unclean. Therefore, you clench your hands tightly, keeping them submerged in the water. There is a viscous sensation as if you had immersed them in a thick, sticky substance like honey or syrup.

Your imagination stops playing tricks on you for a moment, much to your paranoia and guilt’s utter joy. Perhaps a small mercy, or punishment as now you will be alone with your thoughts once more.

You hold your breath as you count the seconds of you scratching away at your hands. One, two, three, four… you eventually lose count, and by then a small portion of the lake is crimson. Your skin has been rubbed raw and you are bleeding, and when you become aware of this, the pain shoots up your arms and you scream.

“Come on, be proud of what you did.”

There is a chuckle that is akin to those that still haunt your nightmares.

At least you can’t see him, he is just a voice in your head. Though you assume that the real Tartaglia is still out there, waiting to strike. You just wish you could make it to Sumeru before then.

Would you ever be free?

“You did great, you know.”

You do not want Tartaglia’s praise, as false as it is at this moment. Even if he is just a figment, you would rather have no kindness at all, out of both self-hatred and hatred for him.

Would you still be free if you hadn’t killed that agent? You don’t think you would have, you don’t know what that agent would have done to you, if he was sent to catch you or if he was just doing his regular patrols of the area. You don’t know what his plans were. All you know is that he is dead and you are still free. Where whatever his plan had failed, your plan as quickly as it was made had succeeded. You contemplate deluding yourself into thinking that that agent was sent after you, that he did harbor ill-intent towards you and your freedom. 

But you can’t do it, so all you do is put your bloody hands to your face and sob. You taste something metallic in your mouth and it only makes you cry louder. Your tears become mixed with sanguine as they fall and paint your white dress with red dots. You stay in that position for a while after that, but the imaginary Childe’s voice does not leave you for another second.

There is never a peaceful moment, and you don’t know how long you cried for.

“Seriously, stop crying. It sort of ruins how good of a job you did.” After a few more moments of you still loudly weeping, you hear a sigh. “Come on. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

You sniffle into your cut palms.

“Just leave me alone.”

He does not listen to you, as he always does.

iv. “You have turned into the very thing that you vowed to annihilate.”

Screaming. Screaming that is so loud the Golden Finches in the trees all fly away. Screaming too loud, too maddening, to stop and it goes on for about a minute like an alarm. The source of the screaming is you, not that you tried to stop it, blinded by emotion.

The daylight makes you focus on your cut hands, your skin still stained with blood from the night before. The lake’s water has slightly brightened up, and the spot where you cut your hands is less red. 

But your trails sooner than later trail back to what caused your screaming.

Resting in the lush blades of grass beside you lies the source of your frantic cries. Nestled at its center, is a vibrant and tranquil sapphire gemstone adorned with gilded accents that trace the curves of a square. As it draws near to your being, a subtle glow emanates, casting a gentle illumination. A Hydro Vision.

“Aren’t you happy?”

You stare at it. You do not know whether to be happy or continue being miserable. You are deemed worthy and strong by the celestial realm, hence receiving a portion of their formidable might. The only problem is that you had just killed a man. You murdered someone, and you are being rewarded for it.

It is like Tartaglia is here with you, even though you cannot see him.

You know that if you had not killed that agent, you would not be gifted with this.

At least you can defend yourself for real now, even though your self-defense skills are next to none.

You hope this is a joke. There are fake Visions sold in some places, and perhaps it was dropped here by mistake. Maybe a child simply lost theirs. But you know that is not true. There is nothing here but you, this Vision, and your rusty sword. There is nothing else for you, no child coming and snatching up the Vision and running back to wherever they came from.

So you pick it up, and it is slightly cold with little droplets of water on its glowing surface. 

It emits a gentle hum and you can feel its power coursing through your veins. Hydro Visions are said to be a manifestation of the Hydro Archon’s will, a symbol of her sense of justice and benevolence. 

You would laugh if your voice box did not feel like it had just been clawed out of you.

You would laugh if you thought it was funny. But it is not funny, because now you will have to carry this reminder; this permanent keepsake of the man you have killed. It is not funny, but you know Childe would think it was if he ever found out about this.

You cannot escape this because there is no escape. You killed a man and his corpse is there on the bottom of the hill, rotting away, his eyes probably wide and glassy and unblinking. Flies and maggots will soon make him their new home and drill their way into his flesh as he rots, buzzing sounds soon replacing whatever gurgling ones the agent made before he went motionless.

You do not deserve any mercy, because at the end of the day are you really that different from Tartaglia? You both kill those around you to get what you want, the only difference being you killed that man in self-defense, or at least you hope that is what it counts as. You don’t know if you and him are the same. You are no saint. Childe is a sinner. You are a disgrace. Childe is no luminary. 

Or maybe he is. Because of him, you murdered someone. 

Either way, that agent had someone, someone out there who at least was acquaintances with him. Maybe he had a partner, a spouse, a friend, someone back in Snezhnaya waiting for him to return. Now all that they are getting is a body in a bag and maybe some cold condolences if they are lucky enough. 

Your hands still hurt as you hold out one of them and a small fountain of water spouts from your palm. You ball up your fist and close your eyes, making the Hydro power stop. Maybe the heavens know that you and Childe are the same, and that is why they gifted you the same Vision he wields. Whether the Vision of choice was intentional or not though, you know you will never be able to find out, because you are just a human. The divine does not interfere with mortals, after all.

You do not feel good, but you don’t feel bad either, a nauseating mix of both you think. You’re stronger now. You’re more worthy of hell than heaven.

What awaits after you die? What happens when both you and Childe die? If you got into heaven, would Tartaglia tear through the very gates of heaven to get to you? What would happen then? Or if you go to hell, would Tartaglia be able to find you?

If you burn in hell, would the only thing you hear be your thoughts?

You would be alone then. Though you know you are just as alone right now. You are lost in your thoughts, and maybe that is what hell is because you cannot stop them.

You are hungry. The satchel you stole from a Millelith guard ran out of food and water yesterday, and there do not seem to be any apples or sunsettias nearby. You feel so empty.

You think about what caused all of this to happen. You are certain that if Childe had not butted his head into your life if Ji had paid off his debts, if something else had happened, if anything else had happened, if everything else had happened, you would not have killed someone. Hopefully, probably.

You are a murderer.

You hold the title of a killer, yet there may still be a chance to redeem your soul through positive actions. If you dedicate yourself to intense preparation, you could potentially return to Northland Bank and swiftly eliminate Childe. Your motive is driven by the desire to pay Childe back for Ji and all the other lives he has destroyed. You want payback for yourself too. Seeking retribution for yourself is not an act of selfishness but rather a justified response in your opinion. 

A deep longing for revenge quickly blossoms within, causing your heart to race as an ecstatic smile graces your face. The tantalizing allure of revenge consumes your every thought, compelling you to go to any lengths to savor its sweetness. Your unwavering pursuit of justice echoes relentlessly, echoing the call for retribution. Justice, justice, justice, Revenge, revenge, revenge. Guilty, guilty, guilty.

Victory, victory, victory.

You are going to enjoy his suffering, his pain. You are going to enjoy his screams. You are going to enjoy his cruel death, the torture you are going to put him through. You lust after such a moment like a bite from the sweetest, juiciest fruit in all the land. Apples. Peaches, maybe.

Your soul will feast well that day. You will eat and eat until you are the very definition of gluttony itself. Even if you end up a demon, you will be happy that Tartaglia finally got his due.

You cannot wait.

It is not too late for you, for forgiveness, for another chance. It is not too late to salvage at least part of you. 

You laugh then, and it is croaky and hoarse from how loudly you screamed before, but you don’t care. Yes. Yes. Yes. You ignore how much your throat hurts, how much your hands hurt and your ankle hurts. It does not matter.

A sudden clapping sound, slow but clear. You don’t know whether or not you are imagining it, if you are going crazy or not. You are not mishearing things either way. 

Footsteps, cracking branches, and stepping on roots and blades of grass.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

A chuckle.

“Good job.”

v. “Happiness can only be found in surrender.”

#yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere ajax #yandere ajax x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #childe #tartaglia #genshin #childe tartagalia #childe tartaglia ajax #author aya

[zeyris-escapism]

Three times the charm ! 🐳

[Childe x reader]

In which Childe hunts his highschool sweetheart. Or in which you unknowingly were held captive by a harbinger.

Warnings: mentions of past sex, kidnapping, stalking, threats of murder, no actual murder, use of name Ajax, manipulation

[-------♡-------]

That wasn't the Ajax you used to know, you were certain. The dead sea in his eyes betrayed way more than his words ever could. You knew he changed, it was clearer than any of the expensive crystals he got for you.

Despite his calm tone the tension in the air grew, pushing against your lungs. Suffocating. As if you were drowning in these dead, ocean blue eyes of his, the pressure forcing you to hold in your breath. His face was mere inches away before your brain started to register his words. You knew he looked at you with a look of superiority. He always did, you didn't even have to see it.

"Repeat it. Again."

"I- I said that- that this just.. won't work-"

After he joined the fatui, or rather after he went missing for a few days, he was a completely different person. The shy, quiet boy you knew and liked wasn't there anymore. All that was left was an empty shell of abandoned humanity. It took you too long to realise this man would only get worse. And yet you clung to the idea that, if given enough care, you could have your sweet Ajax back.

Additionally his new.. line of work was only making him more inhumane. It was as if the violence of it all only sparked this insanity further, setting it alight.

"Oh it will!" It was scary whenever he suddenly grinned like that, as if dismissing the situation. Completely belittling you and your worries. "If you're not willing to work with me, I will simply do it mysel!."

His fingers suddenly tightened on your shoulder, his hair covering half of his face as he thought. Before you could reply Ajax already dragged you back into the room, shoving you inside before he shut the doors.

Scrambling to your feet you leaned against the wood, trying to pry it open, only to notice the sound of a metal click. The lock. "Ajax this- isn't funny. You can't keep me here-"

It was never good to try and be firm with him, because you got no reply, only hearing his footsteps as he walked away.

It would've been fine; you thought. You didn't even know where you went wrong in the first place, sliding down the wooden surface. You should've listened to your gut, you should've known not to ignore all these red flags. But it was hard to suddenly regard him as a monster, having known him all your life.

Or most of it. Even your families were friends, so when the news of him missing arrived to you, you truly were in despair. And now here you are, in the similar despair as you were five years ago, your chest feeling tight. You gave him a chance right before he was sent off to the fatui, you should've simply broken up right then.

You should've gone away without telling him about your intentions first, as he kept you in one room because of that, locking it each time. It was hilarious really, if you thought about it too much. No matter your scrambling or whining he just wouldn't let you leave. At first he was rather calm, telling you that hey, it's fine. It's a new stage of your relationship, to make things better.

Surely you only wanted to break it off cause you met someone you deemed.. better? So then, you won't see them!

You won't see anyone but him to be able to appreciate just how good he is. He's the best, one and only for you!

All that self praise of his had you sick each time, the Ajax who always helped everyone now turned into a self centered asshat. Each time you just had to look away and sigh, the situation continued regardless.

Not much has changed aside from the fact that now he had you abducted. Against your will, sure, but he has to show you just how great he is, doesn't he?

With his hands either on your neck whenever you tried to escape, or inside you, he'd always have a way to convince you that you don't really want to leave. If you do then why are you letting him do this?

It didn't help that with his constant disappearing you had more and more time to plot and brainstorm, how to get out you pondered each day. The news of him being a harbinger didn't come to you, given he was mostly kept away from Snezhnaya by no one but his own superiors.

A war machine that could hardly visit his Darling, he had no choice but to make a plan of his own. Ajax was smart, the way you'd cozy up to him, return his affection. All that was to lower his guard, and all it did was make him aware of your plans. Such a silly girl, he always thought. Nonetheless he played it safe and didn't show any sign of suspicion.

More often than not, when he was back in Snezhnaya that is, he'd bring you things. It was hard to remember that Ajax wasn't.. your childhood friend anymore. That monster now always wanted something in exchange for anything he did, so when you were as much as happy about something he gave you, he'd be just as happy to have you repay him.

Of course there were various ways he'd twist his gifts to have you. And whenever he was rougher after getting his "gift" from you, the memory of what he said never left.

His hand was on your throat, suffocating, letting go and squeezing again. It was as if he was trying to brainwash you, murmuring sweet nothings of how he will murder anyone you get close to.

With every single thrust giving you more ideas of how he'd slay any man you kept contact with behind his back. That you were his and he was sufficient for you.

And each time he'd thrust particularly hard he'd emphasize the importance of never leaving this place. Or him.

"H-nHha.. ffu-fuck-" he'd groan, the sign of him being close. And whenever he did he'd make sure to put his mouth close to your ear. "you're mm-mine- got it? Let anyone- Hhha I mmEan anyone be close to you and I'll- shit.." and then he'd slow, just to pick the pace up again, your legs sore.

He was always going to exhaustion, disgracefully like a rabbit. Back and back at it. How could he help himself if he didn't see you for such a long time? "I'll ffucking.. gut them alive- hn.."

He was a sick bastard. You knew well Ajax was getting off to that idea. "Right in front of you- I'll slit their throat sso you kNow I'm the best for you-"

You came to realise this was some personal issue of his as well. Trying to convince himself he was the best for you, all awhile trying to get you to believe it.

With how much he went at it, it was nearly impossible not to come. And then he'd always turn the shame on you, tell you just how filthy you are from coming, just because of what he said.

It was disgusting each time. At some point you really tried to claw his eyes out, but Ajax was stronger, with ease holding your wrists down. It made you feel.. pathetic.

At least he didn't do it that often anymore, as you noticed over the year of your captivity that he often was gone. And more often than not he was only back for a few days before being gone again.

At that point he was better off throwing you away and finding someone he'd travel with, you felt like a collectible doll. Kept on a shelf only to be checked on, but the moment it moved, even without the collector's presence, all the alarms would go off. It was infuriating.

Ajax simply expected you to stay where you were, without trying to get out to contact your family. Even if he said they know, you found yourself not believing it. There was no way your family would let this happen.

Maybe there was, you were too busy thinking of your grand escape. Today it's been a whole year since he officially kidnapped you. You were together before, sure, but that didn't change a thing.

He had no right to do any of this, and you were thankful enough he didn't care about the anniversaries.

One way or another you sneaked past the fatui near the house, in the snow, in the shoes that were too big for you and one of the thick coats. You made sure it was one that Ajax didn't wear often, after all you weren't allowed outside clothes. So when you were finally out the window, running through the forest, you managed to get near the more civilized side of the Snezhnaya.

Forests here were grand, beautiful and eternal. Neverending snow, forever freezing the life and death within itself: it hurt to know your homeland became your prison, so the moment you managed to get in contact with someone you knew way before any of this happened, you were sent off somewhere better.

Somewhere warmer; that place was Liyue. It was weird to go by a transport vehicle all the way there, but you were soon stationed near one of the beaches.

The process was way too stressful for your mind to keep, so the only thing you remembered was your friend, making you promise you won't come back. And so your life in Liyue started, it was like a rebirth. All the memories of Ajax fading each time you looked at the beautiful beaches, or picked starconches. Even the worst ones, where the fear made you want to do nothing but die; it felt.. calm.

And maybe that was what initially set off your panic. After a year of living in survival mode this calmness that went on for a month was worrying. No one came to look for you.

No one asked, no one followed you, no one looked at you weird. Even the girl who was the head of that rather odd funeral parlor took you as a friend. She was an odd one, but it gave you hope.

That all continued for a while, you working for Hu Tao as the errand girl. It wasn't that serious of a job, but it sustained you just enough: Liyue felt like home. A new home.

You met people, you grew, you learned things. Getting used to the culture was difficult, Snezhnaya wasn't known for the spiciest food after all. Xiangling was kind enough to offer you a second job for the weekends at her dad's place.

Admittedly it was weird how fast you took the liking to the man. Barely six months in Liyue, maybe these were your daddy issues speaking. Maybe you were bored. Maybe the man seemed genuinely attractive, the care he had for Xiangling. For people. The passion whenever he explained the ingredients. Maybe your mind looked for trouble, or maybe, just maybe, you were starting to have a normal life.

Of course the man didn't take your advances seriously, he was aware it was simply because of your circumstances. So he treated you kindly like he did Xiangling regardless, and you decided to put your love life aside for the current moment.

You were also fortunate enough to meet Mrs. Zhongli, having been introduced on a random day by your director.

"From Snezhnaya.. I see, this truly is wonderful news. Liyue is a place for anyone, I'm convinced that Morax himself is proud of how strong of a nation he founded."

And so more time passed. Friends, places, it all grew into you. The beaches, the cliffs, the stories of how Liyue was made. Your nation was ruled by a cold blooded tyrant, that's what you regarded her as, and now, Liyue having an archon present like that?

Then again all good things come to an end in your life. Whether it was in your childhood or now, you should've learned happiness isn't destined for fools like you.

Hu Tao was kind enough to send you on an errand one day or another, and while having to deliver a special package to one of the locals, - Hu Tao's special two for one bonus - you noticed something.

Peeking from behind the pillar you saw the familiar colour of ginger locks. The awful laugh and the shake of the hand. And near them stood a blonde haired person, then a floating.. fairy thing?

You completely ignored the other person, sliding behind one of the pillars.

"..let's take it somewhere private. In Liyue walls have ears, you know?"

You were sure the sound of the two people was fading away, peeking out for a moment to notice them walking further. You wanted to feel at ease that he didn't spot you, but the dread overcame you.

Sliding down the stone structure you felt your heart race. He's here, he knows. He must have come here after you and is now discussing your capture to one of the famous travelers. Fatui in Liyue, you shouldn't have put your guard down.

He caught you. Before you knew it your breathing was heavy, and despite that you felt you couldn't get air into your lungs. The feeling of suffocation that Ajax left in you was always present it seemed, fingers shaking as your vision spun.

He was there and he'd catch you. He'd drag you back. You tried to stand to hide somewhere but your legs gave out right after, eyes wide. You looked around and yet saw nothing, the distorted voice of one of the guards barely registering.

The man picked you up to lean you, but you tried to move away, swatting him with your hands to step back. It was over. He had you.

Before you knew it your vision went blank, and just as fast as you passed out you woke up in an unfamiliar room.

A green haired man sat next to you, hand on your forehead before you knew it. Near you stood Hu Tao, arms crossed over her chest.

"Got me worried there! Don't die on me like that without buying the premium service first, please"

She had a humour, but you couldn't bring yourself to laugh this time. You do recall her and the doctor from this area not getting along well. Did she learn what happened and came here?

He paid her to keep an eye on you.

Were you just paranoid? Was it the truth?

"Miss (y/n) seemed to have passed out due to exhaustion. I checked her levels and saw nothing wrong though"

Only then did you see the snake that seemed to nudge the doctor. "I'm Baizhu, you're at the bubu pharmacy."

You really wanted to reply, but your mouth simply hung open, eyes darkened. You couldn't murmur a word.

On Archons. If he knew, he'd kill them. Or were they paid? They were hired, you were sure.

The faint memory of Ajax resurfacing when you saw the worry on Baizhu's face.

"Don't try anything. I'll find you. I will always find you."

With how unresponsive you were, Hu Tao just sighed, sitting on the bed, right near you. "I know we don't usually talk on personal terms, but.. if there's anything that bothers you, I sure hope you trust me enough to share it. Who knows, whatever bothers you may just find itself sent on the other side!"

She was so sweet sometimes, but you just looked down. "I haven't slept that well for a couple of days, I'm sorry for worrying both of you, but I'm fine" then you smiled. They were paid, and if not? And if they weren't?

What if they were people who genuinely worried about your well being? If you worried them and caused them to snoop, then- he'd kill them. He'd slit their throats, he'd hang them, he'd torture them to prove his sick po- "I do not see that to be the case, as a doctor I can see this is no result of lack of sleep" he didn't seem convinced. But Baizhu wasn't allowed to pry further. "If this happens again feel free to come by again. I'm sure we have some herbs that may help."

You simply groaned. After he checked your temperature and state he finally let you leave, and Hu Tao insisted on walking you home. And so you allowed her to, noticing how she just had a reason to chat through the whole way. Whether it were the new clients or the.. fatui in Liyue.

"I honestly think it's kind of creepy how the fatui keeps digging it's filthy claws in here." She started. "They even sent a harbinger over, you believe that?" For whatever reason, the young director seemed displeased. "is that so?" The harbinger was of no concern to you. You only needed to avoid his subordinate.

"Yeah! It's the youngest one, the eleventh. Childe, funny isn't it? Childe. Child. Cause you know, he's.. a child in comparison. I hope he doesn't bring me more clients than I can handle!"

She.. still had a weird sense of humour. But you knew she meant well, trying to cheer you up with these jokes.

"Childe? That sounds so goofy"

You tried to laugh. But your chest felt tight. The panic never left you. It would never leave.

"Yeah, not only that he's…" she leaned over to your ear as if saying some secret. "Ginger."

At that you went silent, your steps coming to a complete halt as your eyes widened. There he was, at the very far end of the road. Dark clothes, the ginger locks, the cape. That wasn't the outfit he usually wore.

Hu Tao took this as a sign the joke set in. "Gi-ginger?"

"I know right? Like please, a ginger guy can hardly be intimi- oh, that's him actually!"

And so she pointed right at the person you wished you never saw again.

Ajax. The one and only.

It was like time had stopped. Your abductor was a harbinger.

Ajax was a harbinger.

Ajax was.. Childe.

Now all of this made sense, all the times he was gone more and more. The violent impulse- his delusion, one he locked away from you whenever he came over: his vision.

Hu Tao noticed that you really were out of it, fingers snapping in front of your face. "He's not that scary, really. Actually he often plays in the theater here in Liyue, for some reason he seems to enjoy that kinda stuff. "

Before she added more you turned on your heel to sprint away, completely ignoring whatever else she said, her confused expression.

And so you ran straight to the suburban part of Liyue, body feeling faint again. It didn't have to be necessarily true that he knew you were there.

And yet the paranoia set in, and now each turn you made you looked left and right to see if anyone was there. Even the agents that usually walked down the roads looked unsafe. Each step was a struggle for life, you couldn't faint here.

They'd get you and drag you back to your homeland.

"I'll always find you"

The branch you stepped on broke, your house in the distance.

"I'll slit their throat right in front of you"

You ran faster, basically slamming into the doors to open them. The key almost fell from your hand.

"You belong to me, and I take what is mine."

When the doors opened everything went quiet, you slammed them shut, walking in shakily. Straight to your room, almost collapsing by the time you reached it. There was some sort of object on the bed.

Not knowing what it was, your legs already bent, knees feeling soft as you struggled to the furniture, managing to lean against the soft mattress. A picture.

Of you.

In Wangsheng funeral parlor.

You practically fell face flat on the bed, the built up tears finally rolling.

Second time you lost everything.

You couldn't stay here, you were in danger. You brought nothing but demise to anyone who helped you, and after half a minute you finally regained the senses.

Crying was for later. Right then you only began to stuff all your belongings into a suitcase, your adrenaline driven mind not caring about the little things like flowers or pictures, or souvenirs. You only took a necklace with you, the cash you saved.

The dark of the night was too scary, if they snatched you then, no one would see. That's why you set out through the backdoor before the sun could hide away..

You didn't have time to think about the recklessness and impulsiveness of this decision, it being clear your paranoid mind could not come up with a better plan. The run back to Liyue harbour was exhausting, and the moment you crossed the gates, you looked around.

Each step you took towards the center of it all was filled with dread and fear. You didn't feel as scared before, but your mind still suppressed this.. realisation. You would feel way worse later, lucky enough to drag yourself to the port. You briefly explained your last minute booking, of course making an entirely different reason up. But you wouldn't go to Sumeru. That was too predictable.

You took one that was headed to Fontaine, getting aboard to not be seen in Liyue again.

Of course the whole ride was tremendous, the knowledge you were in Liyue for only a year before it went down makes you anxious. If you were in Fontaine surely your chances of survival would be better?

You didn't have the time to think, all you thought of was newfound knowledge you received.

And you couldn't sleep either, safeguarding your belongings, thinking.

The one who kept you a prisoner was.. a harbinger. And knowing how far harbingers go to pursue their goals, how much intel he had- it made you sick.

You didn't necessarily know for sure if someone observed you, but you were too anxious to care. All you wanted to do was to go back to how things were, be with your family.

It was impossible though. And so you landed in Fontaine, this time around having a way harder time adjusting.

Would seem citizens really did dislike outsiders, the atmosphere of Fontaine not something you.. imagined. In a way you considered going to Natlan instead, but given you already had to find some occupation, your money was quickly spent. You were stuck helping with packaging parcels and sending them off.

A Monotonous job with a pay that hardly let you live.

During days like these you truly sat in a chair and cried over Liyue, over what you had. Over what that bastard took from you with these lifeless, cold hands of his.

Over all the friends you lost again, you were tired. Having to start over from scratch, you didn't bother with friends anymore. You were sure he'd find you again, so you already prepared to move further away. Either to Natlan, maybe Monstadt. City of freedom. You were sure if you explained yourself you'd find a shelter, Knights of that area had quite a reputation after all. You were already crying over your life, now to that you cried over the stupid choice of being here. Monstadt was too close to Liyue, but still.

Maybe you'd make it work.

In Liyue you grew used to everything within weeks. In Fontaine it took you too long to adjust to everything, over half a year passing by before you finally befriended a single person. Even so, your days were filled with loneliness, self exploration. You tried to heal a little; taking walks, trying to ignore how ugly the city seemed to you. Even if you were far from the city of Fontaine itself, the surroundings weren't as good as in Liyue.

For some reason the nation made you feel heavy hearted. Sure, you were promoted to putting things inside parcels instead of just wrapping them, but that was hardly enough to be able to afford your life, and to save money.

It was an unfortunate situation, but you didn't dwell in self pity. Now no one was in danger because of you, and given how you heard that the.. harbinger usually stayed in Liyue, you were safe.

Monotonous days passed, monotonous nights followed. The mechanic appeal of Fontaine would never look good. But you learned to cope, learned to adapt; you had to adapt.

Adaptation was what allowed one to survive, and so even when you suddenly found more taxes by your door, more bills to pay, you tried to think well.

All this was means to an end, even if by then you were too short on money to have anything left for another trip to another nation. It was.. unfortunate. And yet, quite convenient for someone that wasn't you.

It was truly your bad luck that the nation had a problem with their Archon who turned to the Fatui for help, and before you knew it, the words of a Harbinger who came to deal with the issue spread. Childe.

Again, Childe this. Childe that. You were sure this time that he really came to deal with the issue of this God, but the more you heard, the more you realised this wasn't the case.

During the first months of this problem you stayed hidden, but even after it ended, the Fatui didn't.. leave.

The amount of agents lessened whenever you took a walk, but you couldn't keep living in fear. Maybe that part was the one that you screwed up. Cicins hardly anywhere to be found either; they were really moving out.

A part of you felt happy, still preparing to leave though. You'd come to Monstadt this time around, enjoying the evening view as you grabbed the herbs from the ground, quickly putting them into the bag, not wanting to stay outside longer than necessary.

Fontaine was really developed, the air hardly ever feeling fresh. That's why it was so hard for you to get your hands on anything fresh, eyes closing for a moment.

It's been a year and the sight of Liyue never left your mind. You stared in an unknowing bliss at one of the bushes, reminiscing. Of how Xiangling and you would gather things for her new dishes.

Or how you'd run errands to get things for Hu Tao's send off rituals. The smell of the food, the homely atmosphere.

Before you knew it, it was dark, your thoughts occupying you for a while. Getting from the ground you gathered the items you've picked, finally heading back home. The path you always took, the sights you always looked at whenever you went over your evening routine. It wasn't that hard to remember the overall terrain here, and once you approached the doors to your home, you took the key to put it into the lock.

Weirdly enough you couldn't turn it, only then noticing the doors opened. You must've left them unlocked, but even when you warily made your way in, you heard nothing.

It was only when you were in the kitchen did you turn the light on, pupils fast to look at the person sitting near the table.

He held a knife in his hand, and a picture, seemingly staring at it as he leaned back in the chair.

"Y/n, y/n, y/n. Fate we are in the same place again, is it not?"

Seeing Ajax made you feel sick, a grin forming on his face. You took a step back. You wished you could say something instead of wanting to take a run for it. But he already stood, his clearly taller frame headed towards you.

"As if destiny itself willed us to meet again" giving him a frown you reached back for your hunting knife, taking in deep breaths. In and out, like you taught yourself to suppress the panic. You're fine.

"It was more something along the lines of you breaking into my house, asshole-" before he was too close the knife was pointed at his chest.

Ajax was like an animal. The moment you showed fear, you lost. That was something that you didn't take too long to learn.

Childe sneered, frowning at you instead. "That's such a wrong way to put it, I merely made myself present."

Maybe it wasn't the right move to show him the knife, as he already snatched it from your hand in a way that was too fast for you to comprehend, it suddenly slammed right next to your skull into the wall. You heard it crack in displeasure and protest, the sharp part of the blade touching your ear.

Only then you realised you had a reason for fear, lips pressed together. It was all too clear that he was annoyed. "you're pathetic if you think I don't know about your endeavours in Liyue."

"So you knew?"

"Of course I did. An idiot like you hardly got out of Snezhnaya, which I also knew about before you could even set off." He scoffed, hand suddenly on your neck. It was dangerous to play that game with him, so you didn't even try to move. He wouldn't kill you, that was for certain by now.

If he did, it would be a waste of time to chase after you earlier.

"I thought, maybe if you have some glimpse of other things that may be sufficient for you. That you, I don't fucking know, might stop being childish about us"

His grip on the knife was tight. You didn't say more. You didn't want to cause further anger.

"But you didn't, of course I also predicted you'd leave Liyue at some point. It wasn't hard to follow your track, honestly you'd be quite naive if you thought you could get away"

It seemed he really was aware of everything, fingers squeezing your throat more so. With his hand on his neck, Ajax made you look up at him, brow raised before he chuckled. "You silly girl. We can do it both ways, alright?"

That condescending tone infuriated you, finger tapping at the skin on your neck. It felt as if he could snap it within moments, Childe was obviously doing this on purpose. Intimidate you into submission.

"You come back with me, willingly, and maybe.. maybe I'll make the punishment a little less severe"

He saw your mouth open in protest, his thumb ending on your bottom lip. "ah, ah, ah. You don't interrupt when I'm speaking. Otherwise I might have to make you come back with me, by force. And the outcome will not be pleasant, hm?"

To you that just sounded like he'd lock you up and leave you without food for maximum a day. Or some physical sort of torture, but instead he gave you a knowing look. "Of course that includes me getting rid of all the people who could look for you. I really don't like people in my business, I hope you understand how troublesome that would be for me. All the issues you caused with these.. useless friendships you made, yeah?"

You were ready to protest truly, but upon hearing that your blood went cold, the feeling made you feel hot actually. Boiling, not from fear, but from anger. Newfound anger, that he quickly took a notice off. "don't give me that look.."

It was scary, how he looked when he enjoyed your intense emotions. Fear, frustration. All the emotions you couldn't express, the helplessness, oh he loved it, eyes closing so he could lean to your face, kissing you. A kiss that wasn't returned, as you passively let yourself be pushed into the wall further. Then again Childe didn't mind if it was one sided, instead kissing you with more intensity, in a way that made you feel out of breath. As if he was purposefully trying to suffocate you and you hardly managed to shove yourself to the side to breathe. Having minimum space between you two, you tried to get out from between him in the wall, only to be grabbed by your waist. "Oh, no you don't"

He said it with some sort of sick cheerfulness, pulling you into another, weakening kiss. It was nowhere near gentle, only dominating and tiring. Weakening, deafening. You were sure you'd pass out by the time he pulled back, a faint smirk visible on his face. The threat set in, you would come back, or he'd drag you there and kill your friends anyway. There was no winning. "So?"

You were silent. The lack of answer made Childe sigh, clicking his tongue as if you were the one who gave him no choice. "Looks like you need more convincing"

"Ffuckingg hell n-no- I'll go- I'll.. I'll go-"

In the end your life was singular in comparison to the lives of many people you met.

You weren't worth enough to let them be killed out of your own pride after all.

Childe grinned sickly. You wanted to puke. "Three times the charm, isn't it? You won't get away this time."

#childe x reader #yandere childe #childe #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia #yandere tartaglia smut #yandere tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #yandere ajax x reader #childe smut #Tartaglia smut

[ddarker-dreams]

The Stranger. Yan Childe x F Reader [COMM]

Warnings: Yandere themes and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 3k.

Soulmate AU. 

Growing up, your mother always told you to be wary around strangers.

You can’t blame her for instilling this value in you. That was when your small family was located in Fontaine — a place where the cities were crowded with steam and people in equal amounts. Con artists flaunting their latest ‘world-changing’ inventions that coughed up suspicious amounts of steam and vendors promising their snake oil solutions that would cure any ailment could be found in abundance. Your mother would hurry you along, urging you not to pay these people the time of day, and you obeyed without question.

It wasn’t until you fled to Mondstadt in your later years that you challenged this notion.

The people here lived in leisure. Most were content with their lot, so long as they had warm food to fill their belly and a pint of ale to wash it down. Your mother still locked the doors before turning in for the night, she claimed it was to stop your father from finding you. No one else did the same, for generational bonds ran deep here. Everyone knew each other since they were in diapers, as did their parents, and their parent’s parents. The idyllic way of life was contagious — it wasn’t long before you caught the bug too. Once your mom passed, and could no longer remind you to lock the door, the ritual faded into obscurity.

Mondstadt’s citizens have always been good to my brother and I, you’d think. I have no reason to distrust them.

And so you didn’t.

There was only a single tradition that your mother passed down that you dutifully fulfilled. That would be your habit of wearing gloves long enough to obscure the name that’s been on your wrist since you were born. The word ‘soulmate’ was the popular adage to describe the phenomena, but your mother warned against taking the description at face value. For every joy in this world, there must be an equal amount of despair, lest things fall into disarray.

“They love us enough to make up for the love we don’t hold for them, ten times over,” she’d tell you, always pulling the glove down enough to cover what everyone else your age would brag about and joyfully show off. You didn’t understand at the time, but you felt her fanaticism through her jerky movements and clipped speech. It bled through like dye when white and dark laundry is mixed. That stain was enough to leave a lasting impression, whereas others faded away into obscurity.

The person currently standing beneath your doorway makes you wonder if your mother was truly right in everything she enforced.

She’d gladly tell you so, had she still been around. But she wasn’t. You were the adult in charge of the house now, the person who called the shots. Your younger brother knows this, which is why he pleads the stranger’s case on his behalf, quite ardently at that.

“You said I’d get a cold if I went in the rain!” The little boy, Elias, implores. Children always have a knack for remembering your words at the worst of times. “What if mister gets a cold, and no one is there to help him? A-And he really needs help?”

A flash of lightning illuminates the towering figure’s silhouette outside. His strange array of gray clothes sticks to his body, water droplets gathering at the apex of the crimson mask sitting on the side of his head, then falling to form a puddle on the floor. Your eyes meet his in an unspoken struggle that wasn’t meant for a child’s ears. Though the height he has over you might be imposing, his face itself is far from it. He has an almost sheepish smile, rosy cheeks, and shoulders pinched together in a way that reminds you of a teenage boy ready to stumble over a love confession.

“I really would hate to impose,” he says, and it sounds like he means it too. “Would it be alright if I just stayed beneath your porch until the worst of it lets up?”

Both you and Elias look at the poor excuse of a ‘porch’ that he speaks of. The wooden overhang has enough holes that you can safely compare it to swiss cheese, taking a few steps back and withstanding the full brunt of the storm wouldn’t be much different than if you were to beneath it. He must be cognizant of the detail, you reason, as the humble suggestion all but puts Elias into a fit of hysterics.

He’s always been such a sweet and gentle child — if one of his stuffed animals ever tore, he’d kiss it better, the same way you would for him when he got a bruise or cut. He’d then hold onto the little paw while you fixed the tear with your needle and thread, reassuring them that ‘they’d be better soon, once Doctor [First] was finished.’

If that was the heart he had for an inanimate object, what more care would he have for a living, breathing human in supposed need?

“If mister has to stay outside, I’ll stay outside too,” Elias declares. He leaves your side and goes to join the stranger in protest. You gape, much like a fish, uncertain if you should feel proud of Elias’ compassion or horrified by the problem developing. The pendulum swung back and forth between the two, more so toward the latter than the former.

The stranger kneels down, allowing himself to be at eye level with Elias. “While I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, it’s important to always listen to your big sister first, okay? She’s just looking out for you.”

You observe the interaction with a twitching eye and hands balled into fists.

“But… but…” Elias’ lower lip trembles. He takes a moment to regain himself, his voice soft. “Mister was nice and gave me and my friends lots of toys. I don’t want you to get a cold.”

“While it’s true kids shouldn’t go out in the rain because they might get a cold, I’m an adult. I should be okay even if I do get one. What matters most is making sure you don’t upset your sister. That is something you should never do, ever ever. After all, there’s nothing that matters more than family, is there?”

Elias considers his words then sighs, his cheeks puffed out from having failed to achieve his goal. “... No. Not even sweets.”

The stranger laughs at that. “Not even sweets. Good, good.”

He stands back to his full height and you’re reminded of just how outclassed you are.

“You have my sincerest apologies for disrupting your evening like this,” he places a hand over his heart and smiles, almost sadly. “I’ll be on my way now. Take care, Elias. It was nice meeting you. Be a good friend to Mr. Cyclops.”

The most this earns is a weak “I will,” spoken in between sniffles. You place your hand on Elias’ shoulder and urge him inside, while the stranger at the doorstep prepares to leave, true to his word. It could be your imagination, but you swear his pupils flit downward to your wrist for the briefest instant. His lip twitches. Before you can think much else of it, he turns around, preparing to head off.

Elias presses his head into your skirt to hide his tears, his heart burdened with the weight of another’s plight. Your fingernails dig into the soft flesh of your palms. How would this impact Elias in the future? Would he be afraid to bring his friends to you if they needed help?

How do you explain to him that this particular stranger is one to be wary of, without casting suspicion over everyone else he doesn’t know yet? Briefly, the face of your frantic mother flashes through your mind. She’d know what to do. You only wish she lived long enough to teach you that herself.

“... You can stay,” you rush the words out like air from a blacksmith’s bellow. The retreating figure stills yet doesn’t turn, urging you to elaborate on your invitation to his back. “We have some old clothes you should be able to fit into. In the meantime, would you mind waiting outside a while longer? The wood in this house is old and prone to growing mold.”

You wonder what sort of expression adorns his face while you’re unable to see it.

There’s a pause, and then he pivots, returning to his former spot without needing to walk more than a few paces. That was all the time you needed for guilt to outweigh the other factors on your mind. Elias lets out a victorious cheer, wiping his glassy eyes with his too-long sleeves that you require hemming.

To buy yourself a few minutes alone, you assign Elias a quest that should keep him occupied.

“Eli, you know the trunk where mommy kept her things? There are some of dad’s old clothes in there. Could you grab some for me?”

Elias nods his head, determination strong on his otherwise soft face. He promises the stranger that he’ll be right back, then takes off, only slowing down when you remind him not to run inside the house. Once you ensure he’s out of earshot, you give your full attention to the man standing at the doorway. Your countenance shifts from careful neutrality to suspicion that, if he notices, he chooses not to comment on.

“You’re a real lifesaver, I thought I might drown out there,” he begins. When the mood fails to lighten at his jest, he tries another angle. “Ah, I can’t believe I haven’t introduced myself. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” you cut off sharply. He blinks, seemingly unbothered by your hostility. He then gives what you think might be the most genuine smile of the night. “You’re one of those Fatui that go around causing trouble for anyone and everyone. Well, I won’t be having that under my roof. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, trying to manipulate my brother like that. I don’t know what your game is here — nor do I care to find out. So just take the change of clothes and leave when the rain settles. Got it?”

That wiped the smile off his face. Unfortunately, it’s replaced by something infinitely worse; a smirk that you’d love to get rid of just as fast.

He whistles. “Wow, and I thought my homeland was cold. That must be the closest I’ve ever come to actually developing hypothermia. On my honor — hey, don’t roll your eyes — I swear I’m not up to anything nefarious here.”

“You just make a habit out of waltzing into people’s homes, then?”

“Well, in my defense, I didn’t realize this was a home,” he puts his hands up. You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit out of my element in this nation. This quaint little house is a ways off from any other civilization and there weren’t any lights visible from the outside.”

Your cheeks warm at this and your haughtiness melts like the wax you couldn’t afford. What didn’t count as a necessity, you tried to do without. Having candles lit around the home didn’t put food on the table — the money you saved from forgoing their purchase did. A few bruises from bumbling around in the dark weren’t enough to sway you.

For the first time since you started conversing with him, he looks elsewhere. Notably, at the unused hearth behind your person. You follow his gaze and sigh.

“Our firewood isn't the best,” you admit. “I don’t bother getting the good stuff when it isn’t winter.”

“Heh. Your definition of winter is cute.”

He mutters a few unconvincing apologies after you give him a pointed look.

“I could always give it a try, with your permission, naturally. I feel the frostbite you inflicted upon me growing stronger by the second. I might just keel over on your porch if it isn’t treated promptly.”

“You think you can start a fire when you’re sopping wet?”

“I know I can. I’m a man of many talents.”

“... Right,” you drag the word out. You suppose he would need to come in eventually to get changed, so there’s no way around cleaning up the dripping mess that would inevitably make. Might as well let him in before his clothes collect even more water. You step to the side and he accepts the silent invitation to come in. He at least has the decorum to remove his muddy boots by the entrance.

This time, when you shut the door behind him, you lock it. Too little too late.

He immediately sets to work. You stand off to the side, your arms crossed over your chest, as you scrutinize his every movement. He removes his wet gloves and sets them aside. Next is rearranging the wood in a peculiar manner — it reminds you of what those Adventurers' Guild campsites look like — then he splits off a smaller piece of wood from the main logs as if it were butter. The casual demonstration of inhuman strength makes you frown.

He rubs the thinner piece in between his palms with enough fervor that, soon enough, smoke rises to reward his efforts. Then a spark. He fans the flames just enough to encourage it, and true to his word, a humble fire comes into existence.

“You don’t have to stand so far away. I might just take it personally if you do,” he accentuates his point by jutting his head in his direction. “There’s plenty of room over here.”

That’s an exaggeration and you both know it, the area wasn’t meant to occupy more than one person. Still, you can’t deny the hypnotizing quality that fire boasts, so you join him without protest, leaving as much space as you can. You overhear Elias through the thin walls shuffling through piles of old belongings you could never bring yourself to part with.

The fire crackles and shifts in a dance of its own design.

“You can look, y’know,” he suddenly speaks up, disrupting the temporary harmony. “I know you want to.”

“Pardon?”

He doesn’t turn to face you, keeping his gaze straight ahead. “At my wrist. I noticed you have a habit of avoiding the area with your eyes. I don’t know what your customs here are, but where I’m from, there’s no shame in taking a peek. I’m not the type to be easily offended.”

There was a certain playful lilt in his voice before that no longer exists. His words themselves are lighthearted, but the grave tone adds a dissonant effect that’s painful to the ears. You’ve always tried to push the frivolous thoughts about soulmates down someplace where they’d never resurface. The thought of falling hopelessly in love, while appealing to some, never did much for you. You think it would’ve been this way even without your mother’s influence. What if you lost a part of yourself when joining another?

You have Elias to take care of, and this dilapidated yet nostalgic home to maintain. They’re all you have in this world and all that you could possibly want. Some stranger that happens to have the same letters as your name on their wrist might endanger that, and the possibility alone gives you enough reason to avoid it.

It’s with this that you have the conviction to say: “I don’t need to look.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Well, I guess I don’t either, to be fair.”

Considering his former pushiness, you found it strange he decided to drop the topic just like that. He struck you as the type to persist until he got his way. The wording struck you as slightly odd too — was he intending to ask to see yours, only to decide against it? Whatever the reason behind the change was, you decide not to question it. You’ve already been through the humdrum explanation a thousand times with friends and prying strangers alike. They never seemed to understand why you didn’t share their enthusiasm for soulmates.

“Found it!” Elias exclaims from the other room. Quick footsteps come shuffling back in your direction not long after, the little host likely feeling bad for taking so long. He really was a sibling you could be proud of.

“Ah, I never did get to formally introduce myself, did I?” he muses, extending his arm, anticipating what you assume to be a handshake. “Most people call me Childe these days. Oh, there’s no need for you to tell me your name, I’m well aware. I’ve been familiar with it my entire life, actually.”

Before you can think to look away, he holds his wrist up tall and proud, his pale skin illuminated by the roaring fire’s warm glow.

The delicate letters of your name are inscribed on his wrist, faintly reminding you of a tombstone.

Your reaction is immediate. You stand to your feet, almost stumbling back while you do so, forgetting about a floorboard that’s slightly uneven compared to the rest. Elias enters the room not long after — and for once, you barely recognize his presence. You feel that it is you that’s been submerged with ice cold water from the mighty heaven’s above outpour, not this man. This man who you willingly let into your house despite all the warnings advising you against doing otherwise.

“Childe isn’t my actual name, though. It’s Ajax. Sound familiar?”

“How did you… when did you…?”

“Those of us with Visions have something called elemental sight,” he taps beside his right eye. “The name gives off the slightest elemental energy. How useful is that?”

There’s nothing warm about the room anymore. Winter has come, and he brought it.

“I got the clothes!” Elias informs, ambling over to Childe with excitement in each step. Childe accepts the outfit, thanks the starstruck boy, and ruffles his hair. You once again catch the makings of your name in a confirmation you could’ve done without. Never has a word brought you so much profound dread. 

“So, how long are you gonna stay with us, mister?” Elias asks.

Childe makes sure to maintain eye contact with you when he gives his answer.

“For as long as your sister will have me.”

#childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere ajax x reader #ajax x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere x reader #commissions #my stuff

[astolfofo]

it's that shittly written in 45 minutes for me. Anyways enjoy this short childe thing I made holy shit my writing skills degraded into the negatives. (i've realized i can't write for this ginger shit)

yandere tartaglia (or childe or ajax idk what he's called man) x reader

i got too lazy to make this longer or more detailed lmao.

also @yandere-romanticaa hi.

-

Your hand hovers over the solid black line. An empty space indicating the need for a signature, your own signature, to resign. You had read the paper several times. You had almost memorized the terms and conditions, word by word, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scrawl your own signature on the sheet. 

You just couldn’t do it. You were too scared to do it. Resigning would be betrayal to Childe, and even though he could not stop you from leaving, he would still find his way back to you, anyways. You’d have no say in the matter and he had made that clear a long time ago. He would undoubtedly search every nook and cranny of Tevyat just to get you back. He would kill countless men, women, and possibily children, just to get you back. He said that he’d fill the oceans up with blood if he had to. If that meant you’d never leave his side. 

And you could tell he meant it. Down to every last word. 

But the taste of freedom from your job had always been tempting. Despite the job security and high pay, you simply could not stand working for the Fatui. It was a dead-end job; unfulfilling on a good day, and traumatizing on a bad day. Countless times had you needed to raise your blade without hesitation, and countless times have people pointed their blades on you. To the people, you were an enemy, and to the Fatui, you were nothing but a discardable tool. Replaceable and worthless. 

Your hand inches closer to the line. One simple scrawl would be enough to get you out. But it also wasn’t worth it. The entire process wasn’t hard, in fact. Childe was currently on a trip, and he wouldn’t be getting back for another week or so. All you needed to do was sign your name, present the papers to the second in command, pack your things, and leave. Then you could go back home, you could do anything you want, no strings attached. You could return back to your life in solidarity before any of this happened; before you met Ajax, before he challenged you, and before you had lost. You could live your life as a nobody again. A dream you had dearly longed for. 

You considered that idea. It was tempting. In fact a week was enough for you to not only get back home, but also conceal your traces. You were good at hiding enough, that it would take years for Ajax to hunt you down. You were good at fighting enough, to fend off his accquantainces. Possibly not himself, but you could last in a long enough fight to escape from his grasp. 

It’s worth it. You think to yourself. You put your pen on the paper, and sign your name in a single motion. You stare at it for a second. Your signature almost looks like a scar within the paper but you decided that didn’t matter. It must be done so you could get away. 

Without any more hesitation, you walk up to the door, towards the secretary, and hand them the paper. They take it in mindlessly, read it, and nod. Easier than you expected, you would have expected some resistance within that, but you supposed not. An employer, after all, cannot stop you from resigning. 

Quickly you walk back to your office, not thinking much. The sooner you’d get out, the better. You grabbed your bag from underneath the desk, and took the few essential belongings you had. The less you took, the quicker you could travel. After stuffing them in your bag, you then put on your jacket and opened the door again.

The singular window in your office told you it was about sunset. If you were able to move at night, you’d be able to get out of Shezenaya in about two to three days. You’d have to keep moving no matter what. Ajax could catch up to you in no time. You couldn’t waste a single second. You fished out the key for the office door, and locked it. 

/

You had forgotten how difficult it was to travel through the knee-deep snow. It was almost impossible to run through, and it was took so much effort to walk through, that it might as well have been a year until you were able to get through it. Most people would have used other methods of transportation, but considering resigning the Fatui often made you a social outcast, you decided against taking a nearby boat or the train. 

It had been a full day of walking before you had been able to find a place to rest for a little bit. It was a small inn in the middle of nowhere. Almost too good to be true. 

But you needed to keep going. 

Yet every single inch of your body was so exhausted that you weren’t sure you could go on for much longer. 

You debated this in your head for some time, before deciding that it would be the best course of action to take a rest for the night, before going on. You trudged on for a few moments, before opening the door.

The lobby was empty. There was no one there. You look around for a second or two, observing the surroundings of the fireplace, and the comfortable wood structures, before a creeping feeling comes up. 

This doesn’t feel right.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, instead subconsciously gripping on to your blade, as if it could protect you.

“Who’s there?”

No response. You sigh, and lower your blade a bit. You walk towards the check-in counter, and peer over. Immediately, you cover your mouth and lean back. It’s a dead body. Throat slit, with the blood dried, and covered over the floor. By the looks of it, it had been dead for serveral days. 

You back a bit. Immediately you run back towards the door, reaching for the handle on your last step. But before you make it, you hear footsteps. 

Shit. Now this person’s gonna think I murdered him. What do I do? What do I do? What do I…

“I told you what was going to happen if you tried to leave.”

It’s a voice you know all too well. As you reach for the handle, a hand covers your mouth. You try to pry it off, but you can’t. Your hands are too shaky, and your strength had been greatly reduced by walking through the snowy terrain. You pull and pull, while the other arm snakes around your neck.

Out of desperation, you step on his foot, hoping he would loosen enough for you to break away, but instead he slams you against the wall, causing your vision to become blurry. “You know what happens when you try to fight, right? You won’t win, you never have.”

Your turn around to see Ajax’s face. He’s almost smiling, but his voice was so flat and monotone. A giveaway sign that you had really fucked up this time. 

“I got out of my trip early, you know? Just so I could come back and see you. Never did I expect you to try and resign from your job. You want to know why the secretary didn’t question you at all when you left?”

You don’t respond.

“I said do you want to know why?”

You know he wants you to say yes. Without thought, you nod. 

“I told them that if you resigned, do not process the paper. I had a feeling you might have tried to escape, but never did I think it would have happened so soon.” He chuckles, “Never did I think you were lying to me this entire time. I must say, I am impressed with your ability to hide yourself from me. After all, before I had left, you had physically locked yourself inside a closet, just to avoid being taken to Shezenaya.”

“But. (Y/N),” you feel a blade just touching your neck, “I can’t let you go. You belong to me. And I don’t care if you don’t want to be with me. I don’t care how much you’re going to fight me. I don’t care how many people I’ll kill. You’re going to stay by my side.”

“And you don’t have a say in it.”

#yandere childe #yandere ajax #yandere tartaglia #yandere childe x reader #yandere ajax x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #i just know this will get 0 likes or reblogs lmao

[nekoashiii]

‧ Come here𓂅

This part includes: meeting Yan!Merman!Childe 1/3

There are going to be more parts as im going to make this a series!

ꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛ

Upcoming parts: meeting Yan!Merman!Cyno, Yan! Merman!ayato

ꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛ

Warning(s): Drowning, Yandere tendencies, Disturbing behavior towards reader. Kidnapping

ꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛ

Tags: @kx-yoshi @welcometodemonschoolfan @rainbowroad0987

ꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛꕀꔛ

Proofreader(s): @vermillionbun @iwishiwasaginger

Your family came here for a vacation trip, people would say this place was absolutely magical and stunning, so your family decided to give it a try, even the house your father rented was beautiful. It had an averaged sized pool with some rocks on top of it, giving it a serene and calming feeling.

You wanted to enjoy some time alone, so you sat on top of a boulder enjoying the view while the sea’s water swishes between your feet.

The sun was already setting and you needed to leave the place to return back to your family,

With a final glance at the sea, you decided to stand up and leave before getting stopped by something sharp grazing your feet.

Looking down you saw a pair of blue icy eyes staring at you from the depth of the ocean, terrified you kicked his sharp claws away.

And for a while that was the last time you see that…thing, physically at least.

Though you couldn't ignore the fact that when you looked at your reflection in the water a man would appear behind you, staring at you, but before you could turn around, he would already be gone.

The sound of a man singing from a distance was no different. Something was trying to bring your attention on the voice, to lure someone in the salt water

And each night the singing seemed to be getting closer, and closer to you. Until one faithful midnight, for the sake of your sanity, you checked it out.

The weather was freezing yet somehow humid, and the lullaby was clear as day, ...it was as if the voice was coming from just in front of you.

Opening the door and stepping out of the house to the sea you saw it, you saw him. And he saw you.

The nice lullaby quickly turned into a madness of demanding whispers, "come here", "Come" "I'm right here, come to me”.

You really wanted to step away and run as far as you could, but when he opened his snowy white arms, all control would get snatched out of your body.

After some painful minutes, you came to him and he surely wasted no time to grab your waist and pull you in the water creating a loud splash.

He was strangling you and going deeper in the water. Struggling and thrashing, you managed pushed him off of you and tried going back to the surface to fill your burning lungs with much needed oxygen, but it seemed like he wouldn't give up easily and pushed you back down under him, not letting you get out of his grasp, even when you pulled on his hair to make a pitiful attempt on swimming away he would create odd noises, most probably the sound of enjoyment...a masochist isn't he.

Ah, those eyes were the last thing before your freedom got snatched as well.

#genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere ajax x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere fantasy #yandere male #yandere genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #merman childe

[theinnerunderrain]

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse [1/4]

Conquest [Ranger!Childe x Princess! Reader]

Warnings: Yandere themes, depiction of violence.

One may contend that the appearance of a bloodstained man standing at the edge of the tower's balcony was the very last thought on your mind. You spent over half of your life upon that tower, daydreaming of a knight in shining armour who would save you from your captors' cruelty and your days of loneliness, aching to see the life beyond the forest and to see your family. A remarkable man with piercing blue eyes, a voice sweet enough to entice songbirds, and a smile that could instantly brighten your day, that was the image of the knight in shining armour that you had waited for.

A man you could be eternally grateful to and who you would desire to marry if he were honourable enough to ask for your hand in marriage.

Yet you weren't certain whether you would regard the man in front of you as your hero in shining armour, a man to consider for marriage. Perhaps he would just request for materials rewards?

You had hope that was the case.

He simply exudes an unsettling air, something about him just seems different from the other men you had fair shares of interacting with.

While he was brilliant to a certain extent and his voice wasn't profound and threatening, his eyes were sinister and dark. They were seemingly soulless, and somehow brought to mind the dark sorcerer's crimson eyes that you had once witnessed as a child. His smile was endearing, but something wicked was hidden behind it, and the blood that was trickling down his cheeks didn't help either. If one hadn't looked closely enough, they might have overlooked the dark stain within the fabric of his dark robes, which he was wearing, again breaking you out of your delusion of a knight in shining armour.

He bore a bow and arrows instead of a broad sword that was fastened to his belt, and they were so heavily bloodied that you started to wonder if he was the source of the screams that had previously resounded throughout the forest.

"My lady."

He spoke while crouching on one knee, his voice sounding slightly out of breath. He had one hand behind his back and the other extended towards you, encouraging you to embrace it. His fingers were encased in thick leather gloves, and you could see the tiny blotches of blood that had been splattered across them, leaving you to wonder from whom the blood had come from despite having an answer to your inquiry. Your breathing quickened as you strained to compose your thoughts and attempted to block out the nauseating smell of blood as you cautiously approached him.

As you drew nearer to him, you could make out a clump of orange hair that was smeared across his head. They had a somewhat slick texture—possibly from his excursion to the tower—but they still had a delicate feel and reminded you of the sun illustrations you would find in textbooks.

The cold sensation of the slightly wet stain stroking against your skin made you grimace a bit as you cautiously placed your fingers on his palm. He gave your hand a slight squeeze, bringing your fingers up to his lips, and then tenderly caressed your knuckles with his warm lips.

"Mon chevalier."

"Childe is just fine, My Lady."

"Childe."

You murmured his name tentatively, your voice faltering slightly as you gazed at the man kneeling beneath you. His hand is still firmly clasped around yours as he peers up at you with expectation, his eyes once again bringing this unhinged feeling of fear to raise within your throat.

"The depth of my gratitude for you is beyond words. You saved my life, and I appreciate it."

You cautiously lowered yourself until your knees were in contact with the tower's cold cement floor as his smile appeared to grow at your remarks. As you were both standing at the same height, your eyes converged.

"My family and I will make sure that we grant your one cherished request as a means of expressing my gratitude."

You prayed to God that his desire would not be for marriage. To a certain extent, he gave off the impression of being a rather sweet man, but you could tell that he was not your typical man. Not from his appearance, attitude, or seeming lack of regret for his actions toward others.

As though his sole objective was to conquer everything around him.

"Your hand in marriage is what I am longing for, My Princess."

You reached out with a trembling hand to capture the edge of his cheeks before tilting in to give him a gentle kiss on the temple and brushing his soft ginger hair away from his forehead. Childe lets go of your other hand, allowing you to place your free hand on the opposite side of his face, just about holding his head within the grasp of your hands.

As you open your mouth to speak, you make every effort to prevent any sign of weakness from coming through in your voice. Although your efforts were futile.

"Your wish is my command."

Before stooping to rest your forehead against his, you murmured while tightly closing your eyes. You can feel his gloved fingers encircling yours and his smile contorting into a grin without having to look at him. His happiness practically glows off him much like a beam of light.

Childe was a man on a conquest.

Between his conquest yesterday and the brisk warm feeling of your fingers against his face, he felt on top of the world.

You are his conquest.

He has put too much effort into winning you, and he won't let anyone sever his relationship with you.

Ever.

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere genshin au #yandere x reader #yandere genshin imagines #fatui #yandere childe x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #genshin ajax #yandere ajax x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere tartaglia x reader #childe tartagalia #yandere genshin #yanderecore #tartagalia x reader #ajax x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia x reader

[bluemoondust]

✧General Yandere Headcanons — Childe/Tartaglia✧

This was a request that got consumed by the inbox, but here it is! My very first time writing Childe but I hope you all enjoy! Especially the original requester! 😊

Edit: FINALLY I MANAGED TO WRITE THESE DOWN (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

Warning(s): He is his own warning, Possessive Behavior, Mentions of Murder, Sadistic Tendencies, Hints of Manipulation

This man is a lot to unpack, but to make it simple, he is very much a possessive, manipulative, and sadistic yandere. Regarding the manipulative part, he isn't one to use manipulation often even if he is truly good at it. No, he prefers other methods when dealing with matters he must attend to. You are no different. Childe is the type of yandere, in reaction to growing feelings for you, who will immediately find ways to get closer. He would honestly love to spar with you if you're someone who does know how to fight. It will just bring the two of you together! Don't hold back comrade! He will be able to tell, after all.

To answer the question if he is aware that his feelings are wrong: that part doesn't really matter to him. So what? Nothing is normal when it comes to him, so why should he be concerned with something like this? He loves you. That's all there is to it. Unconditional love that he is willing to give you if you just let him. His way of loving is just more unique than others, but is it really so different? People often say they'd do such much for the person they hold dearly. Childe would agree as such.

He definitely talks about you to his family. They always hear a mention of you somewhere in his letters and it just brings them elation! They're all so happy to see their beloved son/brother take an interest in someone. Plus, with what he's said about you in writing, you must be a keeper. This leaves you in quite the bind when you finally meet Teucer, who excitedly speaks of you becoming his in law after spending much time with you. "Aren't you just great with kids?" Childe states as the two of you are hanging out with his brother. You're a natural.

But oh, does he find rivals so interesting. Jealousy is a funny concept to Childe—hilarious even. There's no feelings of such if anyone hangs around you too often because they're wasting their time. They will never have you no matter how hard they try. It's a fruitless endeavor. However, if they'd like to be difficult with him, he invites them to do so! It's just another excuse to immerse himself in the thrill of conflict. There is also the plus of just getting rid of those pesky foes as he knocks them down a peg... To the point where you'll never see them again. They should have not started a fight they could never win. It's only common sense. To add more insult to injury... Childe deems rivals as not worth the energy to feel jealousy. All he is concentrated on is how he'll cut them down to size.

Speaking of which. This man is not above slaughter. Especially if he's killing for your sake. You might be having a bad day and I would highly advise this if it was due to someone dampening your mood. Do not tell him that someone caused your day to turn sour. Do not tell him their name or who they are. Childe can be perceptive when it comes to you, so he can tell when you're upset. He'll of course ask you why the long face and listen intently. He's watching your face the entire time as you speak and then he asks, "Did someone cause this?" It's... Unnerving. You can't explain the expression he has at all while waiting for your response.

"I can get rid of them if you'd like." This would bring a surge of fear in you, despite the smile on his face. He could laugh it off later and play it off as a joke, but both of you know full well that he isn't joking. That moment would probably be your first major red flag if you haven't detected anything else yet. Sometimes, because of how Childe doesn't see a problem with his feelings being unhealthy, he does things on a whim. He loves you, right? So, wouldn't it be reasonable to show as such by getting rid of problems in your life? Though maybe in this instance he was just looking for an excuse to draw blood, but who knows.

I don't think he'd be too much of a danger to himself, except for the fact that he does take on fights where he has a disadvantage. But that's the thrill of it. It just depends. As for others, it's extremely obvious that he can pose as a threat to other people. However, that is only reserved for those who threaten your life or are getting too close for comfort. Childe is... Okay with you having friends but his possessive traits get the best of him as he hovers around you. Staring down at your friends with that damn smile.

That is why, when questioned if he is selfish or selfless, it's odd. Childe can act selfless such as when he takes things on for you even if it wasn't asked of him. He could be a decent boyfriend. On the other hand, he leans a little more into being selfish. Especially if he's done a lot for you already. There is a part of him that believes that he deserves you—deserves the right to have you. It is something you should come to understand. No amount of fighting against him will change his mind. And oh does he encourage you to fight him off. You'll never win. You're not strong enough, darling. Ever time you get put in your place is proof to him that he has the right to claim you as his.

#yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere ajax #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere ajax x reader #yandere male #male yandere

[cheesecakethots]

university playboy childe, who you swear you see more times fighting outside or flirting with anything that has legs than actually in class.

that is, until he’s seated next to you in one of your classes, much to your disappointment. suddenly he wants to learn. his parents pay for his tuition, and are rich enough that whatever he does can be wiped away by the heads of the university. it drives you insane.

he enjoys messing with you, finding the expression on your face utterly delectable whenever he manages to get a rise out of you.

at first, it was only for a dare. you were cute, but extremely nerdy and reserved. him and his friends thought it’d be good for a laugh if he managed to have you opening your legs for him.

he realises he’s in too deep when he starts fantasising about you at night, despite the fact that he hasn’t even seen an inch of your body beneath the clothes you wear. he starts wondering what you’d wear if he took you out on dates, how you’d act, what you’d blush to.

you soon start to become begrudgingly accepting of his presence in your life, and then you actually start to like him, despite the fact that your other friends warn you to steer clear and avoid him.

after enough time, he eventually manages to get you into his bed. you spend a lot of time oooing and aahing at his house before he can get there, but the wait is worth it.

god. he starts to wonder whether he’s in love with you when the deed is done, and you’re lying next to him in bed, fast asleep. he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to sleep with anyone else again, after that. he’s not sure if he wants to let you go so easily.

you’re not next to him when he wakes up in the morning, instead quietly getting changed with the clothes that have been thrown on his floor. he thinks that maybe he should put you in one of his shirts.

his arms wrap around you from behind, and he presses kisses to your neck. you laugh, lazily pushing him off and continuing to put on your clothes.

“why don’t you stay?” he asks, seating himself back on the bed, his head tilting and a lock of messy ginger hair falling over one of his eyes. he grins wolfishly, “i can make it worth your whileeee…”

“you don’t need to do all this.”

his smile falters a little. “hm? do all what, baby?”

you giggle, “and you don’t have to call me that. i know this was only for a dare.”

he stands again, feeling his heart start to pound, “no, no, it’s not, i-“

you raise an eyebrow, “i’m not stupid, ajax.”

he’s lost for words, but you’re not.

“don’t worry, i’m not mad. i mean, i used you so i could stop being a virgin, in all honesty. i didn’t expect anything of it. oh! but if you want to tell your friends that i’m hung up over you, i won’t be mad either. see you around!”

your hand falls on the doorknob, but when you pull it doesn’t open. huh? you glance back at him quizzically. when did he lock it?

“i’m sorry. it was for a dare, but it’s not anymore. i’m in love with you,” he admits, his expression more serious than anything you’ve ever seen of him.

something in his eyes freaks you out, and you laugh awkwardly, “alright, the jokes over, unlock the door, i really have somewhere i need to-“

“no,” he says, moving closer to you, until he’s backed you up against the door, “you’re not leaving.”

your friends were right. you should’ve avoided him, after all.

#tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere ajax #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact x reader #tw kidnapping #tw implied kidnapping

[flokali]

♢ I own you, I love you | Tartaglia

warnings: yandere, dub/con, male m.asturbation, violence, threats, corruption, unrealistic sound-isolation, delusional thoughts, possessive behavior (from childe), childe/tartaglia lore-spoilers, canon divergence (maybe?), misunderstanding/miscommunication, manipulative behavior (from ajax) , unreliable narrator (ajax), ask to tag more.

pairing: afab! fem! reader x childe

word count: 10.7k

a/n: after months... here it is;; i'm so sorry for taking so long (tt),, i'll make it up to you !! istg (huhuh)

— 18+

You had trouble falling asleep ever since the day Ajax went missing.

It was meant to be yet another normal day, one that would blend in with all the others – muddled with other memories of childhood. Instead, it became the day your life began to change in ways you hadn’t even fathomed possible. 

It had heavily snowed the previous night, which left a brand new layer of pure white to cover the humble roads of Morepesok. Normally, after such a heavy storm, you and Ajax would go over to his house and play inside – making use of the fireplace his father had built and hot chocolate his mother would make to keep warm. You both would steal his father’s diary and read about his adventures across Teyvat, recreating the scenes in your minds with yourselves as the main characters, before sharing your dreams with one another.

You never had the courage back then to tell him your ideal adventure was a rather simple one, while you always dreamt of moving to a less snowy nation, one like Mondstatd or even Sumeru, you were content with peacefully traveling across Teyvat before settling down. You didn’t want to spend your life fighting monsters and exploring the world, you only really longed for a simple life, where you could work a safe job and create a new home for yourself and those you loved. It was fun to imagine yourself on a long, rewarding journey across the nation to complete a request, but you’d rather keep it as just that – a figment of your imagination.

Ajax, on the other hand, longed for the chance to become a warrior. While never too skilled with the blade, always too nervous to even kill an animal, his determination was enough to convince you he’d one day make a great adventurer like his father. He’d longed for the thrill of exploring every corner of Teyvat, roaming the land until there was nowhere in this world where he hadn’t been to. Meeting new people, learning about new cultures, fighting monsters and gaining the freedom that came with being an adventurer; Ajax’s dreams had been clear from a young age.

A part of you, albeit really, insignificantly small, always wished he’d never succeed, secretly hoping he’d leave those ambitions behind with age and become a fisherman or craftsman instead. You’d heard tales of men and women who’d joined the Adventurer’s Guild only to never come back, and even more about those who’d joined the Fatui’s ranks, and you didn’t like the idea of waking up one day to find out he’d passed in a foreign land. It was selfish, you knew that, but you hoped that maybe he’d choose a safer option, one where you two could live together, away from the cold winters of Snezhnaya and safe from the dangers of the world. Maybe you’d both move away from Morepesok, find a quaint town in Fontaine where you’d both settle down and continue being friends, or maybe more, with no worries for each other’s safety - only busy being happy and healthy.

While you were putting on your boots and coat, making sure to layer as many clothes as you could to avoid the freezing cold temperatures that came with such heavy snowfall, you remember feeling an odd sense of uneasiness, a queasy feeling settling down in your stomach making you feel sick and nauseous. At the time you had thought nothing of it, too focused on meeting up with your friend and the taste of his mother’s hot coco, but now, years later, you think it was the Tsaritsa’s way to warn you for what was to come.

You remember nearing his house, confused as to why he hadn’t met you halfway down the road like he always did. It was quiet, eerily so, only the sound of your boots and your labored breath as you battled your way through the snow. There were no kids out on the street, all the adults that would normally be on their way were missing, even the birds seemed hesitant to chirp.

Instead, you find his mother worriedly looking around the perimeters of their humble cabin, her normally neat appearance now disheveled. Her long, ginger hair was half-hazardly put up, her clothes were wrinkled, her coat wasn’t even buttoned up all the way, but she stood there, frantically looking around.Whenever you’d come over, you and Ajax would always bump into one another before racing home to see who’d get there first, but today there was his mother’s choked sobs where normally his laughter would ring.

“Auntie?” You asked, running the rest of the way as you saw her expression, the closer you got the clearer the worry in her face became and you felt yourself grow anxious.

“Sweetie,” she looks at you in surprise, not having seen you approaching - too preoccupied to hear your unsteady footsteps as you struggled to run towards her, you see her blue eyes frantically look behind you and you follow suit, “A-Ajax, he wouldn’t have been with you, right?”

“No…” You shake your head, the previous feeling in your stomach expanding across your body, your head felt fuzzy as you asked, “Isn’t he home?”

“I… I’m afraid not,” She looks distressed at your words, her eyes water as she ushers you inside while still trying to look around to see if she caught sight of her son’s bright ginger hair against the cold white that coated the roads, her hands are shaking as she holds yours and brings you into her home, “Come inside, come inside – it’s too cold out t-there, you’ll get sick.”

Behind you, you hear more people arrive, you’re almost certain you hear your parents as well, but you have no time to ask before the worried mother shakes her head at the curious adults that looked up at her – the atmosphere worsens at the realization he hadn’t snuck out to be with you, she tries to occupy herself by taking you inside so as to not give into hopelessness.

You’re confused, not too sure of what’s going on even as you see adults from around the village inside of the house, maps in their hands as they whisper about the boy’s possible whereabouts.

“Is Ajax… o-okay?” You ask, you start to feel afraid as you process their concerned faces, seeing all of these adults who’d always been smiling and assured look so worried and uncertain sent a chill down your spine.

Where was Ajax? Normally he’d be here, assuring you your imagination was running wild and that nothing was wrong, the empty space next you where he’d normally be felt awfully cold.

Nobody answers you, instead you’re taken to your friend’s room where his siblings were gathered. Their mom, who you've always called your auntie, kneels down in front of you, taking your smaller hands into hers and giving you a weak smile.

“Ajax will be fine, okay?” Her words are meant to comfort you but you feel like they’re more for herself in that moment, “He’s just… gone out for a while, but he’ll be back before you know it.”

You nod, not truly understanding what she meant but feeling as if that was the response she needed to hear.

She gives your forehead a small kiss, you feel a tear fall travel down her cheeks and into your hair but you say nothing as she leaves, noting how she desperately tried to conceal the tears in her eyes; You’d never seen her cry before and it’s only then, as you look at his siblings and the pained look in their faces, that you finally begin to grasp the severity of the situation.

He was missing. Your best friend was gone and no one had any idea where he had run off to.

That evening your parents came over and stayed the whole day with Ajax’s family, alongside the other townspeople who went and came as they searched for the young boy in the woods around the area. Normally, you had to fight tooth and nail to let them grant you permission to stay over but that night they’d been the ones to offer it first.

That night was the first and only time you had a sleepover without Ajax. You and his siblings huddled together in the living room, next to the fireplace as his mother looked over you all. You would wake up every so often to the sound of people coming and going as the search efforts seeped into the night and early morning.

The suffocating cycle repeated itself for three days. Three days, two nights, and one afternoon later, after countless hours crying to your parents in fear of losing your best friend; Ajax emerges from the woods in one piece, but he who returns is not the same boy.

The first thing that stood out was his disheveled hair, he was wearing the same clothes – which were in too good a condition for a kid who’d gotten lost in the woods by himself for three days –, and the hunting knife he’d stolen from his dad now dull as if it’d been used continuously for a long period of time. What shocked the men and women who’d found him was the blood on him – specks decorated his face and hands as he looked up at them from his position near the corpse of a bear, one easily three times his size, he’d somehow taken out. 

They’d found him in a clearing close to his house, the smell of blood had been what had alerted the rescue party – they’d prepared for the worst case scenario where the blood came from Ajax’s body, instead they found him to be in good shape even after three days by himself in the wild – perhaps a little too good, for it seemed he’d somehow taken down a beast by himself with his hands and his father’s old hunting knife. 

The news of his return quickly spreads, everyone gathered near his home as they awaited with bated breaths to see the young boy; you’re there as he’s reunited with his family, hugging your mother’s leg as tightly as you could.

Rumors spread about him having killed an animal, some claimed it had been a rabbit while others alleged it had been a beast the size of a horse, and you wondered if they had mistaken another kid for Ajax – he’d never had the guts to harm even a fly, you doubted he’d changed so much in the span of three days. But it seemed as if you’d been wrong.  

He doesn’t shed a tear, he doesn’t say a word. Not even a squeak as his parents coddle him; nothing at all. The only sounds are hushed whispers as people discuss the absurd situation and gleeful congratulations from onlookers as they celebrate his arrival and well being while giving his family well wishes. Instead, his blue eyes find yours and you’re unnerved at the empty look in them. Where there’s once been a warm light, you found an empty void that seemingly sucked you in and refused to let you go. You felt goosebumps arise all over your body the longer he looked at you.  Even as he’s embraced within his father’s arms, his family surrounding him as they cry from relief, it’s only when he makes eye contact with you that, the first time since arriving, he smiles.

You feel a chill travel down your spine as you realize Ajax hadn’t been the one to return that day. You unconsciously nestled closer into your mother’s coat, as if trying to hide from his unnerving gaze.

You did your best to ignore that unsettling feeling, opting to attribute it to the rumors you had heard instead of something your friend had done, you pushed it and as well as any doubts aside as you attempted to focus on the good news; he was here, home with his family and back next door to your own house, and that was all that really mattered.

Ever since then, he’d become more confident. His once timid personality completely disappeared and the days where you had been the stronger one, defending him from his older siblings’ teasing and the mocking from other kids, were now but hazy memories. The roles had switched quite suddenly, not that you minded it too much – there were times where it felt nice to be the one being protected rather than the protector, but it had been quite the surprise at first.

He’d become bolder and more protective, never afraid to throw a punch (and sometimes even more) if he felt like you had been disrespected. It came to a point where you’d sometimes grow suffocated by his mere presence; eventually it escalated to where he’d never let you hang out with anybody he didn’t approve of, afraid they’d hurt you and he wouldn’t be there to defend you, and he’d make sure to let it be known you were his friend first and foremost. Unknowingly, a set of rules had been implemented between the two of you. Rules that stated you were his responsibility to protect and care for, even if it meant it drove others away and left you two isolated from other kids your age.

There were times you missed the Ajax that’d gone into the woods, the freckled boy who was timid and polite – who’d rather be teased by his siblings than hurt even a bug the size of your pinky, you doubt that boy would have picked fights with kids twice his size because they’d made a joke or two that didn’t land too well. But you hesitated to dislike the new Ajax, after all, when it was only the two of you - it was as if that damned day had never occurred at all.

He was back to the sweet, delicate boy who’d blush at your jokes and avoid prolonged eye contact. Whose hand would grow warm from holding yours, who’d confess his feelings to you every night when he thought you’d fallen asleep. 

A few years later, once you were both older – now settled into your teen years, he ended up joining the Fatui and leaving your humble seaside village to go to the capital to train as a soldier. 

You cried the day he’d given you the news. As overbearing as he could be, the ginger had been your only friend that your parents consistently let you hang out with, you’d spent your whole lives together and the thought of being without him terrified you greatly.

You remember the look on his face, the way he desperately tried to look strong and not let a single tear get away, his hands that had once been soft were now calloused as he grabbed your own.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise.” He’d whispered, his lips near your ear as he enveloped you in a hug.

You don’t trust your voice not to break and so you nod, letting your nose burn from trying to contain your sobs and not worry him more than he already was.

“A-and I’ll write you letters, so you better not forget me,” he continues, and even if by now he’d long since grown taller than yourself – you’re amazed at how small and vulnerable he felt against your frame, “so please… wait for me.”

“Only if you always write to me first… ‘Cause I swear I’ll leave if you forget.” You try to lighten the mood, halfheartedly warning him as if you both didn’t know it’d take death itself for Ajax not to fulfill a promise from him to you. He tightens his arms around you and you feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you as you wonder how long it’ll be before you can both hug like this again.

“I promise.” He laughs softly, the sound warms your heart.

“Then I promise as well.”

Ever since the day Ajax went missing, you have had trouble falling asleep. 

When you did manage to fall asleep, a task which took longer than you’d like to admit without external factors such as medicine, your dreams would be strange and cryptic, often times you’d wake up in the middle of the night with a racing heartbeat and a sense of urgency, as if you’d been in danger; you’d learned to hate the images your brain would concoct during your rest. Some nights, you’d dream about that day and what would have happened if Ajax had never been found, other times you’d open the door to soldiers grieving his death; whatever tragic scenario your mind decided to present you, it would always be so realistic you’d wake up with tears streaming down your cheeks and a devastated heart.

This time, however, your sleep had come easier than expected and there were no dreams or nightmares to haunt you. No earthly worries were present and, after such an unexpected day filled with reunions and world-shattering news, you wished to succumb to a never ending night; however, the fates had other plans for you.

As you’re forcibly awakened from your slumber you feel a familiar, pleasant hand gently caressing your head. It felt gentle, their touch delicate and sweet, as if they were afraid any more force would hurt you. If the owner of said limb wished to lure you into consciousness, their touch had the opposite effect as it almost seemed to beg you to go back to sleep and forget the world of the living.

You felt truly content as you laid there, the blanket that laid atop of you was heavy and cozy,  a foreign feeling - nothing like the blankets you were used to, and the pillow smelt like an old friend, welcoming and nostalgic. It all felt like a perfect trap set out to catch you, if that were that case then you’d have to admit it was a little too good at its job as you resign yourself to cuddling closer to the fabrics that enveloped you.

If it hadn’t been for the gentle kiss pressed against your cheek, you probably would have never gotten up. You want to complain, already formulating a sentence of indignation and annoyance to throw at the perpetrator, but the warmth left behind by the gesture is cozy and fills you with a taste full of happiness and fulfillment you don’t want to sour. At the feeling of a pair of unknown, soft lips against your skin you become more alert, slowly your consciousness begins to enter the realm of the living once more while you grow aware of your surroundings. Your eyes open timidly, the leftover fatigue from such a deep rest keeping them heavy, it takes you a second or two to adjust to the light and another few to register the man that lovingly gazed down on you.

“Ajax…?” You call out, rubbing your eyes as you wonder if it really was him. You’re almost sure you’re dreaming, as embarrassing as it was to admit, it had been so long since you’d seen him in person you may have simply gone crazy and imagined the man to be here; You’re about to ask him what he was doing here, if he were real at all, but he beats you to the punch with a smile before answering you with a gleeful tone that reminds you of summers long gone.

“The one and only,” he laughs gently as the hand that laid atop your head began to ruffle your hair in a familiar gesture – reassuring you that he was, in fact, a real person and not a figment of your imagination you had come up with to deal with the loneliness, “… don’t tell me you forgot about earlier.”

He teases you, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he awaits your answer; surely, you couldn’t have forgotten. It’d only been a couple of hours and he had been sure to be as thorough as possible so that he left a print on both your mind and body, there was no way you’d forget making love with your soulmate. Just the thought of it sent jolts of anger and frustration down his spine, not at you - never at you, but at himself as he wonders if maybe he’d underperformed and disappointed you to the point you’d try and act like nothing had happened. If that was the case, he was more than willing to go again just this instant to right any previous wrongs.

“Earlier?” You mumble, you wreck your brain trying to think of what he meant but it isn’t a full minute before you realize what he meant. If it hadn’t been for his words, maybe his coat laying on you and your sore body would have been enough to eventually jog your memory. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you remember what you two had done earlier, you’d been so tired by the end you’d fallen into a deep, dreamless slumber that momentarily left you empty-headed when you woke up, but now the memories are rushing in and you doubt you’ll be able to forget the feeling of Childe on top of you for a long time.

Your embarrassed gaze was enough for him to know you’d remembered the dance you’d both partaken in earlier that day, the way your eyes avoided his had his heart swooning and a warm, fuzzy feeling settling deep within his very soul. 

He feels himself calm down the more he looks at your flustered face, his whole body light and intoxicated on your sweet expressions; his pants felt so tight as he watched you fiddle with his coat, he wonders if he’d be able to warm you up on the ride back to his place the same way he’d done so previously.

You were absolutely adorable to him, so very weak and fragile in comparison to him – if he wasn’t such a gentleman, he would have loved to destroy you until you were too scared to leave his side. Alas, he decided that you shouldn’t be the one to face the sharp end of his blade, instead, he’ll scar your psyche and those around you so violently you’ll have no want nor need for anything else other than him.

“So, ‘slept well, my love?” He asks, his tone sweet as to never betray his darker thoughts — you didn’t have to know about how deeply he wished to break you until you couldn’t function without him by your side. You nod while suppressing a yawn, blissfully unaware of the chaos that was unfolding due to the man in front of you, and he laughs, content with your naïveté; he missed you oh so very much, “That’s good.”

There’s a warm, almost euphoric feeling that invaded your senses as you both took the time to enjoy each other’s presence; it felt different from earlier, something had changed now that you both had finally indulged in each other’s bodies. It felt akin to drinking a warm cup of tea, comforting and pleasurable, a reminder of home and the feeling of familiarity after a long period of impersonal and foreign coldness.

“Let’s get going then,” he breaks the silence, finally standing up from his crouching position, he gives you one last pat in the head before he starts making his way through your room and inspecting your belongings – or what remained of your belongings, “the carriage will be here soon, it’s only an hour long ride away but I think it’s best we take as much as we can today and send someone to pick up what remains.”

That’s when you notice he’s fully dressed, other than for his cape that was laid on you, as if he was anxiously awaiting the time to leave. You’re confused; why was he so keen on leaving and so fastly – he’d barely been here a handful of hours. Did you misunderstand his intentions? 

“What do you…?” You ask, you rub your eyes while you sit up, using the large coat as a cover once you feel chilly Snezhnayan air hit your sensitive skin. It’s then that you can finally look at the many bags and boxes that litter the floor, and the almost empty room you laid in. All of your belongings seemed to have been packed away, almost nothing remained other than old family portraits and gifts from your parents from across the years. 

“Huh?” The sight of your room packed into boxes was enough to wake you up, you instinctively try to stand up but a firm hand keeps you in place; you look up and see Ajax looking down at you. Your eyes meet and a chill goes up your spine at the look in his, they look eerily empty. You barely feel the coat slip from your shoulders, too focused on the feeling of his fingers against your forearm and the fact he, as a soldier, could easily overpower you if he wished.

“You’re still sleepy, aren’t you?” He asks, the muscles on his arm flex slightly as he speaks to you - he sounds disappointed as he continues interrogating you, “Do you really not remember?”

You shake your head, trying to wrack your brain for any indications of what he could be referring to; you remember the news about your parents and what happened after, but moving out? You have no memory of such a thing being even discussed, lest he meant —

“You agreed to marry me,” he says, as if reading your mind, your arm is finally set free as he adjusts the gloves on his hands, “and as my wife, you’ll be living with me from now on; I assumed you wouldn’t want to stay… here for much longer, considering everything.”

“Marry you…?” You echo as you watch him parade around your room, sharp eyes taking in what was left of your belongings on display. You vaguely remember his proposal during the first half of your conversation, something about how it’d serve as an obstacle for the arranged marriage – after all, it’s not as if the wife of a Fatui Harbinger’s marriage could be easily questioned or objected to. You had agreed almost immediately, even if you had your doubts about the reasoning behind the arrangement, you’d rather marry someone you knew than a stranger.

You wished you’d thought things through better, waited a bit longer before giving your answer. Clearly Ajax had made up his mind but now, after the shock of the news began to wear off, you felt like you owed your parents and yourself a discussion. Even if you felt betrayed, like their decision degraded you to an object instead of their daughter, you wanted to head their side; if only to get closure for your own aching heart.

Instead of answering you, Ajax turns around to meet your eyes. His eyes had always had the ability to suck you in like a void, they’re never clear - always muddy, like there was a side of himself he hid from you; you could never find your reflection on them. It took you a while to get used to them, to their empty, numb look that sent chills down your spine all those years ago.

The room feels small as you both look at each other, you sit on the bed naked and he stands in front of the door as if he were trapping you in, it’s silent and intimate and it makes your skin crawl. His expression is one you can’t read, maybe all those years in the Fatui had taught him how to make his enemies cower thanks to his presence alone, because the harder you tried to understand what his gaze meant, the less you felt you knew about him.

“Yes, you said you’d marry me.” He states and, even if it wasn't phrased as such, it felt more like an order than a recalling of events. 

“I know,” you mumble, “and I… I like you, Ajax, I really do, and I’d love to be with you, but… but  I can’t run away from this without hearing them out, you know?”

“You said you loved me.” His expression changes into a frown; Had you lied to him? 

He probably sounds childish, his sentences short and repetitive like that of a toddler throwing a tantrum, but the truth was he simply couldn’t believe that you’d even hesitate to marry him; his brain completely short-circuited as he tries to understand why on Earth you’d ever think of giving anybody a chance when you had him.

“I mean, I-I do,” your cheeks feel hot as you’re quick to answer, at least you think you love him, “but… mom and dad wouldn’t just do this without a reason and you know that. I can’t just leave and never see them again without their explanation, even if it’s bad… I need some sort of closure; I can’t accept they’d just do this to me for no reason.”

“As if that changed anything, they gave your hand away for Mora, my love” He retorts, completely bewildered at your words; they’d tried to give you away to some lowlife, they hadn’t consulted you, they were going to spring it up on you one day and expect you to get over it the next, “Does a reason even matter?” 

“It does, at least I… I think it does,” you look down at yourself and notice droplets falling down against the coat, staining the heavy leather with your sorrow, you were crying and hadn’t even realized it, “I don’t want to hate them… I don’t want them to hate me.”

He goes quiet when he catches sight of your tears. He freezes, his chest tightens and he feels himself grow dizzy – it’s the same foreign feeling he got when he first heard of the engagement, he feels his knees buckle under his weight and himself sway with every step he takes in your direction. They were beautiful, your tears, so delicate and clear, they shone like crystals when the soft afternoon light came through the window just right; he wishes he could collect them in his palm and weave a necklace to keep with himself, a reminder of your fragile heart he desperately needed to protect. 

You looked so vulnerable, naked and crying, covered only by his coat. It was an intoxicating sight, he wished he could take a photograph and engrave it on his eyelids so every time he blinked he’d see this scene play out. You broke so beautifully, it was haunting to hear your voice break into sobs and wails as you mourned the life you thought you had, but it sounded beautiful to his ears nonetheless. It makes him feel insane, it was taking too much self-control from his part not to jump on you.

He sits down once more next to you, shaking limbs trapping you in his arms as he rubbed your back softly. As you cried uncontrollably, he found his cheeks hurting from the large grin on his face; it couldn’t be helped, no matter how much he tried to will it away, the joy he felt as he saw you cry was too much for him to hide.

“It’s okay,” he makes no effort to quell your fears, instead he chooses vague words of comfort to let it fester in your heart, “you won’t need to see them ever again, you’ll have me instead.”

He feels you hiccup, too deep in your own despair to formulate words. Your shaking body clings to his, you felt so scared and alone; How were you supposed to accept such a cruel, unforgiving truth? What could you possibly do to ease the pain in your heart as you thought about your parents and siblings, who had so easily given you away to a stranger. They felt so far away from you, it felt as if your whole life had been a long dream, nothing but a fantasy you were unaware could break any second, leaving you afraid and confused as you awakened to a reality you could have never seen coming.

“Come, I’ll help you get dressed,” Ajax helps you up as he speaks, essentially forcing you to face reality and displace the fogginess in your mind, he’s gentle as he makes his way with you to your closet - you vaguely note that it was still full, unlike the rest of your room it seemed he hadn’t touched it save for a few drawers here and there -, “the sooner you get ready,” he keeps an arm around you while he goes through the rack of your clothes, making sure you stay close to him, “the sooner we can get out of here.”

You nod, your head hurts but you can’t seem to stop the tears. 

Maybe he was right, maybe it was a bad idea for you to talk to them; there was truly no excuse, was there? You doubted anything they’d say would take the feeling of betrayal away, they had treated you like an object, completely forfeiting your own personhood and giving you away to a stranger for Mora. No matter how desperately you wanted to understand what they’d done and why they’d done it, the more your head and heart hurt – it was such a cruel, heartless thing to do, to throw away your own blood to whoever bid the highest for them.

You can’t even muster the strength to facilitate the Harbinger’s task of dressing you, your whole body felt heavy as he made sure to layer on your clothes, it was near impossible for you to even stand up by yourself without your legs swaying and your knees buckling under your weight. It’s only due to the ginger’s persistence and strength that you don’t collapse.

By the time you’re ready and boarding the carriage, you’re tired and too drunk in your own misery, to question why, even as it neared nighttime, your parents nor your siblings hadn’t come home yet. Not that you cared, at least not right now, seeing them was the last thing you wanted to do.

The ride home is peaceful, you’d fallen asleep early on and laid beside Childe as he caressed your sleeping cheek and gazed out the window. Your head laid on his lap, broad thighs becoming a make-shift pillow for the ride, a blanket covering your body to keep you warm while you both made your way to his residence in the capital through the cold night.

Bored, deep blue eyes mindlessly gaze at the scenery passing by, his thoughts too jumbled together for him to admire the scenery. His thoughts stray back to your mother’s horrified face as she walked in on you together in bed earlier, he chuckles to himself as he recalls the screech she let out; it felt nice to see her so uncomfortable, but it wasn’t nice enough he’d forgive her for what she’d tried to do to you; Separate you from him.

“Ajax?” She finally gasps out, her hand points at him in an accusatory manner, “What… what is going on?” 

When did that boy come back? He’d been gone for years, the last she remembered him was as a young teenager going off to join the Fatui; what was he doing in bed with you? You hadn’t mentioned him once during all these years, she had thought you’d long since forgotten about him. So why on Earth was he laying in bed with you - naked? Had he pressured you to do so? You two had such a close relationship, there was no way you wouldn’t have mentioned him to her if you two were dating - her mind was racing with a million thoughts and all of them left her worried and confused. It’s clear she’s not doing well, her breaths are visibly unsteady, her chest rising and falling unevenly while she audibly gasped for air, she’s shaking so hard you can see her knees wobble as she tries to steady herself against the doorframe; this wasn’t something she could have ever seen in coming. 

Ajax couldn’t care less, the whole spectacle was boring and wholly unnecessary; she wouldn’t get to see you ever again, she should be grateful he hadn’t simply taken you home with him the minute he saw you. 

“I came back for my beloved,” he answers carelessly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he makes a vague gesture towards your sleeping form as if to make the point clearer, “can’t have a wedding without a bride, after all.”

“Wedding? You and her… are getting married?” 

“Yes, is it that hard to understand? Come on, ma’am, everyone could see that she and I were going to get married,” he scoffs, “you said so yourself multiple times.”

“But,” she looks visibly confused, “that was back when you two were together everyday, Ajax… you haven’t seen each other in years. You can’t seriously think that you’re getting married because you both said so when you were children.”

The audacity this woman had was near parody, clearly she knew nothing about you nor your life and it made him feel sick. She had the privilege to be a constant part of your life during all those years he was away and yet she clearly spent them doing Archons’ knows what, he was growing visibly angry the more she spoke.

“We’ve known each other long enough,” he shoots her a glare, “and I’ve known my whole life I’d marry her, whether we’ve been seeing each other everyday or not - we’re getting married and that’s final.”

“Did she agree to this?” Your mother asks, her voice rising until it was near a squeak.

“Of course she agreed to marry me!” He snaps, his tone venomous; Could she just shut the hell up already?

“Then why didn’t she mention it to her father nor myself?”

“Because we agreed to get married today,” he puts your sleeping body aside, slowly standing up and tying a loose blanket around his hips, “and neither of you were here.”

“Today?” She echos, “You came back today and asked her to marry you?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I did,” he shoots her a glance as he picks up his clothes, slowly putting them on as he goes on, “and she said yes, I think you get the point by now.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” she mumbled to herself, she made her way inside the room, careful as to not wake you up, “there’s no way she was serious about marrying you. You… you’re practically a stranger to all of us at this point, Ajax.”

His pants were on at this point, his blouse now balled into his fist as he tried to control his annoyance. This was starting to get pathetic on her end.

“I will have you know,” he interrupts her, turning around to make eye contact with the woman once more to make his point clear, “that not only have we been in constant communication since I left, she agreed quite happily to the proposal - I don’t understand what exactly is not clicking, ma’am.”

“Of course she’d agree,” she exclaims, her hands flying up in desperation as she continues, “she has liked you all her life; but were you two dating until this point? What even was the relationship between you two; how am I supposed to support her getting engaged with a man we haven’t seen or heard from in years. Never once did she mention you, Ajax, she never spoke of a partner much less a marriage, all her life she’s made it clear that’s one of the least of her concerns and you want me to believe her mind changed in one day because you came and had sex with her? You’re insane if you think I’ll allow it.”

He feels himself freeze, most of what she’s said up until now feels like background noise the moment he finishes processing her words. You never mentioned him to your parents? He knew you hadn’t mentioned the letters, not all of them at least - he’s asked you not to, but never once in the almost eight years since he left had you mentioned him - not even as a potential suitor nor as a lover. That hag is lying, right? There’s no way you’d do this to him, right? You loved him, you said you did when he was fucking you just minutes ago, you wouldn’t lie to him, no.

“Listen to me, I don’t care if you want to get married to her - but there’s an order to how things are done,” your mother shoots your sleeping form a glance, “you could have at least let us know beforehand you’d be coming, you… you should have spoken to us; you know we would have given you our blessing if you’d waited a bit longer. This is the first time you’ve seen each other in years, emotions are running high - at least give her some more time to think this through, you already bedded her… don’t make this harder on her - she was beginning to move on, she’d been planning to move and now you’re telling me she’s throwing it all away? For a man she’s barely seen in years no less.”

“You’re… you’re wrong.” He mumbles under his breath, “You’re wrong, we both love each other.”

“Listen to me,” had your mother’s voice always been so grating to the ear, “she might have said yes to you now but how do you know she won’t regret it? When did you ask her? Today, the same day you come for the first time to see her? You think that under all the emotions that’ll come up seeing you again she’ll be thinking rationally? Was this even a conversation you both had previously, Ajax? How are you so sure she loves you like a wife and not just as a friend?”

His movements slow down, his hands feel heavy as he buttons up his shirt; can she just shut up? What did she think she was doing, lying to get him out of the way? Insinuating you’d ever regret him, what a joke - you needed him to survive.

“I’m saying this not just as a parent but as a wife, you can’t rush into these things, you can’t spring the question up suddenly and not take the time to consider it properly! You… you immediately had sex with her and you want me to believe this is out of love and not physical attraction? You couldn’t even wait for her father and I to get home. You’re telling me that both of you are completely sure of what you’re doing, you want me to believe that? I’m not letting my daughter make such a rash decision in a day -”

“So what if it was in only a day, huh? You’re just looking for any excuse to oppose us getting together,” he’s quick to interrupt her, “because you are trying to get her to marry some old fuck for some quick mora.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You think I don’t know, huh? You don’t care about her at all, do you? Lying to me that she’d never mention me, as if you didn’t know we were together all this time… acting like you care about her when there’s some fucking bitch downstairs you sold her off to.”

“What… What's this about selling my daughter?” “Don’t act stupid on me,” he doesn’t even bother buttoning the rest of his shirt before he’s pushing your mother out of the room and following her out the door, “I tried to be civil, but I’m getting really damn tired of you criticizing us and you keep on lying.”

She hits her back against the wall, she yelps in surprise but the Harbinger makes no acknowledgement of any discomfort he may be causing. Instead, gloved hands shoot up and take hold of her shoulders as he continues going at her; there’s a crazed look in his eyes as he keeps on speaking, getting progressively annoyed the longer the conversation went on.

“We – I, we never sold her off,” your mother pants, she looks up at him in confusion and fear, “who do you take us for?”

“I have the records,” he pushes her down, “there’s no use in lying to me, ma’am – I know everything I need to know.”

“You’re crazy,” she spits out, “you’re fucking crazy… I don’t what the fuck happened to you, but I’m sure as hell now that you are absolutely not getting anywhere near my daughter!”

“Shut up!” He picks her up and throws her against the wall, there’s a loud thud as her body slowly sinks into the ground, he corners her with his body, “Shut the fuck up, you hag.”

“Let go!” Tears are streaming down her eyes as she pleads,“Help, someone help! Please, upstairs… come upstairs now!”

“Listen here,” his eyes are wide open, his posture threatening as he leans over her shaking body, he’s rough in his handling of her and he knows it but chooses not to care, “she said she’d marry me, she said she loves me, she said so and so it is. There’s no debate, got it? If I want to fuck her two minutes after seeing her, I do so, and if I want to marry her after not seeing her for years, I do so. We don’t need a lying bitch getting in our way, you understand that, right? I don’t need you taking her away from me to give her to someone else. She was mine before I left, she was mine when I left, she’s mine right now, and she’ll be mine as long as I’m alive, so you either shut up and accept it or I’ll get rid of you and your fucking mistake of a family.”

“Listen here,” his eyes are wide open, his posture threatening as he leans over her shaking body, he’s rough in his handling of her and he knows it but chooses not to care, “she said she’d marry me, she said she loves me, she said so and so it is. There’s no debate, got it? If I want to fuck her two minutes after seeing her, I do so, and if I want to marry her after not seeing her for years, I do so. We don’t need a lying bitch getting in our way, you understand that, right? I don’t need you taking her away from me to give her to someone else. She was mine before I left, she was mine when I left, she’s mine right now, and she’ll be mine as long as I’m alive, so you either shut up and accept it or I’ll get rid of you and your fucking mistake of a family.”

“Get off of her!” 

Oh, your father was here.

It’s strange to think that at some point, Ajax would have considered him something akin to a second father - especially now as his stomach filled itself with venomous rage at the mere sight of the older man.

“I said get off,” he runs towards the younger soldier, at an impressive speed for a man his age, his hands lunge forward as if to tackle him but it takes one hydro blade’s slash for him to stop dead in his tracks, “I… what do you want?”

Your father looks visibly worried as the ginger brands his weapon, the sight of an unfamiliar vision user threatening your spouse is one that would make anyone think twice before taking their next step. 

“Do you seriously not recognize me?” Tartaglia laughs incredulously, “Come on, sir… I was only gone for a couple of years.”

“Ajax?” Your mother nods her head frantically as your father finally puts a name to the face of the strange man in his house, “What the hell are you doing, boy?”

“He’s going on about,” your mother gasps for air, “marrying her and - and, us selling her or something!” The awkward position she found herself in made it hard for her to comfortably speak, even so, she made sure to spit it out as quickly as possible. Her chest is heaving while she desperately tries to make your father understand the absurdity of the situation, the hydro blade in his hand was simply too close to her skin for her comfort - the power of Harbinger was nothing to scoff at and she wanted nothing more than to never find herself in this position ever again.

“We can talk this out,” your father’s hands shake as he tries to slowly approach the ginger, “there’s clearly been a misunderstanding…”

“There has been no misunderstanding, sir,” he laughs, “I know damn well what I saw and what I heard.”

“We would never -” “Yes, you would!” He nearly shouts, but he restrains himself - if only because you’re still sleeping nearby, his whole body shakes as he tries to control the volume of his voice, “And I’m getting really fucking tired of you acting like you wouldn’t, you know? Just admit it and maybe, just maybe, we can work things out.”

“We would never hurt our daughter like that, Ajax,” the older man tries to explain, “please, understand that… let my wife go and we can talk this out properly, please.”

“Talk it out?” Ajax looks at him incredulously, “There’s nothing to talk about if you won’t admit to your mistakes, sir.” “B-but we didn’t -”

“Shut up!” His blue eyes are wide open, the crazed look in them was enough to send a chill down a grown man’s body. Why couldn’t they just admit to trying to separate the both of you? Why were they so desperate to lie? He knows what he heard, he knows they were trying to ruin his chances to be with you. They were clearly trying to get in his way, they had to be conspiring against the two of you - there was no other reason as to why you’d been so hesitant to agree to his proposal, why you’d been scared to see the truth; they were brainwashing you into forgetting him, doubting him. They had to have known he’d come back, there was no way he wouldn’t have, it’d take death itself for him to give up on you.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t stand to listen to your parents’ pathetic attempts at covering up their lies.

Your mother’s words die in her throat as he knocks her out with a single blow, it’s by sheer luck the impact against her skull hadn’t straight up killed her. Your father doesn’t even get to react, not even a pip can be mumbled, before Tartaglia is making his way towards him at rapid speeds, the young man’s strength was enough to tackle him down. The Fatui soldier makes sure to use as much strength as possible, all in an attempt to get his opponent to knock his head against something and pass out with as little fuss as possible. 

It’s almost pathetic how quickly he’d taken both of them down, in just a few minutes the couple was knocked out cold - not yet dead nor mortally injured but not awake, no longer able to annoy Ajax or disturb you.

It’s almost pathetic how quickly he’d taken both of them down, in just a few minutes the couple was knocked out cold, both lying motionless on the ground, their limbs sprawled awkwardly; not yet dead but no longer able to annoy Ajax or disturb you, much to the former’s delight.

Footsteps could be heard from the first floor as the guests downstairs started getting worried, standing up and roaming around calling your parents’ names - too polite to dare wander into the house but too anxious about their absence to stay completely still, the thick wooden floors muffled the sounds but not enough that the commotion upstairs couldn’t be heard. One of the many benefits of Snezhnayan architecture was the isolation you could achieve in a big enough house, he’ll keep it in mind when he picks a house to start a family with you in.

Due to your house’s size, Ajax wouldn’t have to worry too much about Andrei or his parents hearing too much, meaning he’d be able to keep the element of surprise.

The Vision user knew he’d have to avoid the dining room, the place where the guests currently found themselves, lest he lose control and kill his former subordinate the minute he laid eyes on him, however his reasoning was anything but noble; Tartaglia simply wasn’t too keen on the idea of letting him get away with his crimes just yet. 

To him, death would be too soft a punishment, it would have to be a fate worse than, not just for Andrei but every single person who was involved in the scheme.

His gloved hands make their way to check their pulses, both weak but still there - good. 

With a satisfied huff he makes his way down the hall and staircase, quick to dismiss his signature hydro blades as he purposely makes his presence known with loud, rhythmic footsteps any soldier who’d served under him would recognize.

Years of hanging out under this very roof meant Ajax knew exactly where your back entrance was, which meant that he could enjoy instilling a sense of dread into the people downstairs without risking being found.

With a lazy smirk, Ajax purposely lets a couple of framed pictures and paintings fall from the wall, his hand tracing the walls and making sure to create as much sound as possible. As he approaches the dining room, he can hear the confused, hushed whispers as someone tries to peek into the hallway but, by the time the young man finally reaches the door to look around, Ajax has long since exited the house as he makes his way to recall the soldiers he’d stationed around the neighborhood.

With a wave of his hand soldiers seemingly appeared from thin air, emerging from bushes and rounding dark corners, soon the Harbinger is surrounded by men awaiting his orders.

“Is the Galkin residency ready?” He asks, making direct eye contact with a shorter soldier.

“Yes, sir.” The man nods.

“Good,” he combs a hand through his hair as he looks at your childhood home, “there’s a knocked out couple on the second floor, the rest are in the dining room.”

“Yes, sir.” A chorus of voices respond, mechanically a group of the soldiers turn around and march into the house.

“Keep it down, will you? If they scream, knock them out,” he adds half-heartedly, “she’s sleeping, so don’t wake her up.”

The leader of the group nods enthusiastically, making sure to echo the sentiment to his men before making their way inside the house.

As their operation takes place, Tartaglia turns back around to address his remaining companions; “Make sure to make it look as realistic as possible, we need the charges to stick.”

“Yes, sir.”

He asks to see the boxes full of fabricated evidence one last time. There are at least six large boxes filled to the brim, but he focuses on one. The one that holds the most damning evidence for the most serious crime anyone could commit in the land of Cryo; Treason against the Tsaritsa. Cold, blue eyes look with a gleeful glint at the falsified letters, penned to look exactly like your family members’ handwriting, there’s more; photographs, bank records, falsified shipment records, and more.

He gives one final nod, officially sealing everyone’s fates. From this moment onwards, your family and the Galkin’s would be charged with treason against the Tsaritsa and conspiracy to overthrow the Fatui. Sure, many others, perhaps even innocent people, will unjustly be implicated but he’ll make sure to pin this on the worst people he can. He’ll get rid of two birds with one stone while he’s at it.

It takes only a couple of minutes before everyone is being pulled outside of the house and led into carriages. It’s a humiliating sight, the ones who were awake were panicked, some even crying, the ones who had to be subdued needed to be carried by two or more people as they were unceremoniously dragged away.

Ajax purposely hides away, making sure to make a mental note of who was being taken and their condition. Andrei and his father are the only Galkin family members out of the four present who hadn’t been knocked out. Your parents, your eldest sister, and younger brother are knocked out - your elder brother, and your other sister are the only ones awake. There are a couple of other people, their partners, and a few he didn’t recognize immediately. In total, there were 16 people taken from your home.

Tartaglia made a point to only reveal himself as they finally dragged Andrei out, the final person out the house. His hands were bound behind him, a confused look clear in his eyes as he desperately tried to understand what was going on. His green eyes finally make contact with Ajax’s, they widen.

“Sir? What is going on -” He’s cut off by a harsh shove from the soldier walking him, he stumbles.

Ajax almost feels bad at the sight, Andrei was a good man - if only he didn’t try to get with you. He was young, unlike the idea he’d planted into your head, Galkin had only recently turned 27 last month, and he’d been a promising soldier until he was honorably discharged after a failed mission took the lives of most of his troupe. However, if you found out about his closeness in age to yourself, you’d probably not have reacted as poorly - maybe you’d even think about giving the fucker a chance. After all, people like Andrei - honorable young men who sacrificed a part of himself for his nation - were always appealing to the masses. But never as appealing as Ajax was to you, he couldn’t be.

The Harbinger turns around on his heels, not even sparing another glance to the arrested individuals, before making his way inside your house.

It’s filled with strangers, their serious faces evident as they set up the scene - their movements calculated as they did their best to create the image of guilt. Even though there were easily five or more people in every room, the whole place felt eerily empty. In a way, he almost feels as if you two were the only people in the world - you, the sleeping beauty waiting for him to arrive.

There’s a spring in his step as he pushes the door to your room open, his eyes immediately find you buried within his coat. He’s not surprised you had managed to sleep through it all, you’d always been a heavy sleeper even during your youth. 

He ushers a soldier in with a bunch of empty boxes, signaling for her to start packing your things up.

“Wake her up and you’re dead.” He adds while he makes his way towards you, a cheeky smile on his face as he makes himself comfortable next to you.

The soldier nods, making sure to be as quiet as humanly possible as to not anger the man in front of her - at this point, everyone in the house knew that he was not exaggerating when he said such things. When it came to you, the eleventh Fatui Harbinger knew no bounds. She turns around, making sure not to look too much at either of you in fear of upsetting him.

He patiently waits for the woman to finish packing all she could fit in the boxes. By now, he’s cuddling you in his arms, never allowing you the chance to so much as squirm away from him. It’s a suffocating, possessive hold he has on you, like he was scared if he let you go even for a second you’d leave him.

“Good, thank you.” He doesn’t even look at her - too focused gazing lovingly at your sleeping form. She says nothing but bows before leaving, desperate to leave the room as soon as possible.

The minute she closes the door he pulls himself away from you, making sure to not wake you up with any sudden movements - a concern he seemingly hadn’t had before when he’d been tormenting your parents.

He’d done his best to conceal himself but the truth was that the minute he saw you again, he felt himself growing hard again. Your naked body was hidden enough he didn’t feel the need to kick the soldier from before out, but he knew - he knew that beneath it you were still dirty with him, you were bruised from his handling of you, your neck filled with his kisses and bites. Just knowing that was enough for him to get dizzy, as if all the blood that was meant to flow to his brain had been redirected to his dick. His white pants were tented up, it almost hurts from how erect it was - just the memory of you taking him inside had a wet patch forming in his underwear.

“Look at what you do, baby,” he moans, his voice breathy as he pulls his zipper down, slowly freeing his hard-on, “ah… hah, I want to be inside you again.”

Just the cold air hitting his bare cock is enough to send a jolt of electricity down his spine, he just wants to feel you again, it’s all he wants - to be inside you again and to fuck you until all you can think of his your future husband’s cock. He takes your hand, so much smoother than his battle-worn one, and cautiously shoves two of your fingers into his mouth as a make-shift gag. 

He keeps one hand there while the other one slowly caresses his slit, his touch almost a ghost on his skin as he makes sure to tease it until a glob of pre starts to form from how sensitive he already was. He takes a small amount of pre-cum and uses it as lube, making sure to spread it slowly across his tip and down his shaft with long strokes.

He’s trying his best not to bite down on your fingers but it was so hard not to, instead he occupies himself by sucking on them in sync with his hand. 

“Mhm!” He accidentally touches his vein, the thick bump was extra sensitive against the cold air and your scent, his whole body twitches.

He can’t stop his hand from gaining speed and force, the longer he’s here with you the more his hand moves. It just not enough, his hips thrust upwards as he gives into himself, fucking into his balled up hand. His tongue laps at your fingers, his lips wrap tightly around them as he tries not to bite into your flesh; he can’t stop his hand from tightening against his cock.

He continues like this for a while, humping into the air like a bitch in heat, making sure to not cum - he didn’t want this to end too soon, he wanted to continue feeling like this next to you. In your room, a place that smelt so much like you it was overstimulating him, the taste of your lips against his tongue was intoxicating - he didn’t want today to end.

“Hah, mhm…” He chokes against his moan; it’s starting to get too much for him.

It’s then that he makes the mistake of looking over to you. Just the sight is enough for him to cum, it takes just a few strokes for him to finally spill.

“F-Fuck!” He can’t stop the moan that leaves his lips, he takes your fingers out of mouth in fear of hurting you but he refuses to let it go, gripping tightly while he lets himself ride the wave of pleasure he feels.

It takes him a second or two until he finally calms down, his dick growing sensitive as he slows down his strokes until he finally stops. His chest feels heavy as he pants, his heart beating painfully loud - he wonders if maybe you could hear it even in your sleep, a part of him hopes so. His whole body is on fire but he thinks this is the best he’s ever felt, just being near you was enough to make him feel like a God.

“I… I love you,” he pants, his fingers almost leave a dent in your hands from how tightly he’s gripping it, “hah… I love you so, so much…”

Almost a little too much.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere ajax #yandere tartaglia #yandere childe #yandere x reader #yandere gi #yandere #yandere male #yandere x you #yandere boy x reader #male yandere #๋࣭ ancient scrolls #yandere genshin imagines

[mayullla]

Title: An invitation to a chase

Character(s): Childe / Tartaglia (Genshin Impact)

Summary: Isekai au; It wasn't by choice that you dropped into this game. It was slow, but you slowly manage to make a living for yourself in Liyue. This was not a game anymore. Yet at the same time, you could not shake the feeling that this world had its faith already decided so you decided to become someone from the background not knowing you have gained the interest of a certain harbinger.

Warnings/tags: F!reader, yandere themes, mentions of other characters (liyue)

When you woke up you didn't know where you were...

Confused by the tall mountains and the beastly monsters that carried axes, wooden bats and shields, the small circle monsters that looked afraid when they saw you and ran away, you thought that they were familiar but at the same time in a daze unable to properly understand anything.

It was almost like a dream that you waited to wake up but... you never did.

It was with the help of travelers and adventurers passing by that you finally understood where you were. Their clothes hinted at where you were, and the names of places were another one. It was slow, but soon everything clicked together. You were sucked into a game called Genshin Impact, and you don't know how to get back.

Distraught you were after you realize that other than your clothes, you had nothing, nothing that reminded you of home or a way back. It was with the help of kind-hearted adventurers that you were able to get back up.

You knew that you were in Liyue and with the adventurers who found you here heading to Liyue Harbor. It was soon that you parted ways with them after they were sure that you knew your way around and had a place to stay.

You passed by Xinyan and Yunjin in their repetitive stages till you found Yanfei, who helped you get on your feet and make a living for yourself here.

It has been a few months since then, and oftentimes, you wondered if you should have even become friends with the characters that you once knew from behind a screen. If you were allowed to be their friend when you didn't belong here. No matter how kind Xinagling and Gouba were, they would always be a reminder to you that this was a game that you played once.

The NPCs that you helped as a traveler, even playable characters... it was somewhat nerving to see them... detailed, their struggles beside their quests that they gave to the traveler. You used to see only part of their problem before being forced away from them, unable to talk to them anymore besides a few repeating texts.

You wanted to help them, but part of you also thought that you shouldn't. That later on the traveler would come and help them which you thought would be far more appropriate than... you.

It wasn't like you didn't want to help, but in the end, you realized that they didn't ask for it and that you weren't the traveler anymore, and that you were another person altogether at this point. You didn't have the power to make everything okay again.

Instead, you just choose to be in the background, maybe a friend to Yanfei and a few others or just acquaintances for others if you ever bump into them yet faceless in the whole storyline you suspected to start soon.

So when you were out in the mountains gathering herbs, you didn't think you would see a certain person with ginger hair and blue eyes who came all the way from Snezhnaya.

He was the one who noticed you first as you froze like a deer in headlights unable to move when you meet his eyes. It wasn't like he was gonna kill you, you knew that even if he could he would not. But that never changed the fact that to you he was still dangerous.

Meeting him here all of a sudden without any notice made you unable to casually wave at the man who did so instead look away as you took off leaving him alone to wonder if he had done something wrong to a stranger. Did his wave offend you?

You thought you would never see that man again.

Again, you mentally thought it wasn't like you disliked him or anything, as much as you would fawn over or like this character in the past... it has been months since you last played the game, and the characters became all the more real to you even if you didn't want them to be... yet at the same time still just characters.

Yanfei would occasionally visit your home when you realize that she had her own problems other than what the game shows. That her words weren't on repeat, but actual genuine interest.

It made you think about the future choices that have yet to happen when Zhongli would choose to "die" in the ceremony... how much panic and worry would strike the citizens but also you. It also made you think about a certain toy seller who would cause even greater trouble and turbulence. The same man who waved at you.

It wasn't like you could stop him. You didn't have a vision, nor were you strong enough to fight him.

Choosing to stay quiet till everything passed was what you chose to do when everything would finally happen. You already knew that everything would end well one way or another with the help of the traveler.

You didn't expect to see him again in the mountains. This time, he was sitting on the grass as if he had finished training just a few moments ago. With how messy the whole place around him was? No doubt.

Hidden behind the trees, you stared at the man who you thought didn't notice you, carefully taking a step back you plan to leave.

"You know, it was quite rude of you to just go when someone greets you."

You flinched as you glanced back at him, a cheerful smile on his face.

You were caught.

"I am sorry... I was in a hurry back then." You tried to make an excuse, not making a move to go towards the man nor stepping away to make a run for it. It would be too suspicious. Tho... he probably already was suspicious of you.

"Hmmm, I am not so sure about that."

You watched as he sat up still watching you, "While I don't exactly think that you are a spy seeing how concentrated you were in collecting those herbs, you looked like you almost like a rabbit frozen in place as if I have come to bite you." The smile never once went down, but it also never reached his eyes.

"Tell me, have we met before? Your eyes recognized me when you saw me, but I don't remember ever seeing you."

You bite your lip as you look away. Were you really that obvious? You wondered, but you shook your head. "I don't recall ever meeting you in my life. It was because I experienced an… unfortunate event with the fatui that I now choose to just avoid them." You told him... somewhat honestly…

Well, half truth and half lie really… You did experience events from the game that almost made you dislike the fatui when you watch them cause so much trouble. But you also meet a few here, and while most ignore you, some could be rather...

So, really, you aren't wrong. You just hoped that Childe actually buys into the story enough to leave you from now on.

"Hmmm… Is that so. Well, maybe you can tell me who it was, and I will go check?" ...Childe was definitely trying to do something here. "That won't be needed." You said almost harshly. You were nervous.

"Now, now. If they made a mistake and hurt the passerby for no reason, then they are definitely at fault for it and would need punishment." Childe raised his hand, the other on his waist. "That isn't needed." You told him raising your hand as if to stop him, "It was long ago now, and I do not remember the person's face, nor do I care to get some sort of revenge."

Rather than a random fatui, you prefer if someone could knock some sense into the man in front of you. Not that you would say that.

You already packed your bags and were planning to head out as soon as you heard that Monstade was saved by the traveler and head there for a vacation away from the chaos here. You saved some mora just for this reason, too.

"Ahh, alright. Then how about this. How about I hang out with you whenever you go to the mountains? Think of it as an apology from the fatui." Childe said, taking a step closer still with a friendly smile. You lightly bite your tongue, wondering why he was so insistent. There was absolutely nothing special about you to warrant such interest like this. "That would not be needed."

"Well, but had I not come here a moment or two later, you would have already been hurt by the hilichurl camp here," Childe told you, his smile widening almost like a Cheshire cat. Quickly, you looked to his side, and your eyes widened in surprise. Of course, the mess was from a hilichurl camp.

"Don't worry too much about it they are all down. While you gathered herbs, I can clear out the place for you, and if there is a particularly hard place to get to something, I can also help you out." Childe made the deal sweet in his own opinion, yet when he raised his hand for a handshake you looked into his eyes and noticed that he still was suspicious of you, and you knew that if you declined here he would try other means to watch over you. 

You frowned at him again, "I already told you that I do not wish assistance from the fatui."

"Hmmm, okay there. I will just be right beside you, not as a protector or anything like that, but more on an accidental meeting." You have been left speechless at how shameless this man was. All the while, he continued to smile as if he didn't say anything wrong.

And as much as you hated it, he kept his promise or whatever you would call it. Whenever you would go to the mountains, he was always there acting as if he was just going to head up too and that the two of you should hang out. Or that time you met him on the way, and he decided to follow you up again when you clearly saw that he was actually going down it. When you change the time you usually go up the mountains thinking you could outmaneuver him... he was there waiting for you.

It was unnerving really how often he followed you, as you would now see him in the market and the streets of Liyue Harbor. "Ah! I didn't expect to meet you here, comrade." Childe would openly greet you while you want nothing more than to look away. You didn't doubt that he had eyes everywhere... he probably placed a spy or two on you if he was actually suspicious of you.

Yet somehow you thought that this was different, that the eyes on you weren't cause you were a spy but something else. Not when you realize that Childe's eyes were always on you, no matter what you do, he was always there...

What did he notice...

It was always amusing watching you search for that moment to scurry away like a mouse whenever the two of you meet. It was something that Childe always took pleasure teasing you with.

You have always been like this except to a way to various degrees even with others but more so with him. There was always a distance between you and the world that he craved to figure out. When he first came to Liyue a few months ago, Childe had seen you a few times walking around the streets. You weren't special well, not at first, while vision holders tend to have their own distinct style. You choose something that blended with the crowd and their fashion.

He didn't really care much, just a moment thought and then to the next topic he had to deal with. But he couldn't help himself but look at you again after he noticed you on the side of the street with some vision holders. You guys were talking for a bit, but Childe noticed that stare you had almost knowing, yet no words of it came out of your mouth.

A few times later, he saw you by chance. You sometimes had this distant look in your eyes as you watched the ships come and leave the docks. Sometimes, it was a cautious look or maybe sometimes impatient, but you were always watchful... waiting. You were always looking for so clues, what he wasn't sure but had as time passed gotten curious.

The first time you saw him, he thought that you would maybe wave back as he raised his hand, yet much to his surprise there was recognition in yoru eyes, and then the next thing you did was run away.

You knew him, even tho he had no remembrance of ever meeting you before he noticed you. There was a certain thrill that beat in his heart when he realized that you knew more than you let on.

And to him, it was an invitation to a chase.

He followed you almost ever you went ever since then, mildly disappointed when his duties call for him as he had to for a short put a cause to the chase. But the more he spent time with you, watching you, he knew that you were definitely hiding something. The knowing look you sometimes give to others when you thought that they were looking, as you withheld information that was just about to reach the tip of your tongue. The look that you gave him, when he talked about certain topics, his trill towards fighting, your eyes told him that you knew something that he never told anyone else other than his close associates.

And to him, it was nothing but trilling. You have become something likened to a prey that he had become found over. Someday, there is this itch of wanting nothing more than to rip you apart to know everything about you, but he cherishes you just enough not to.

It would be sad to destroy you like that, but to be fair, even if he had patience... he could only wait for so long.

Note: It is his special day so loll

#yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere ajax #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #tw yandere #isekai au #genshin writing #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #childe imagines #yandere writing #yandere fic #tartaglia x reader

[wiltedivinity]

ıllıㅤ𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ; all you saw was red. the blood in his hands, the blood on their bodies, the blood on your own, and the color of the roses you're engulfed in. he wondered at the fact on how far you've brought yourself to get away from him, physically and emotionally, knowing you won't even get to escape a few meters. but you wondered... why?

ㅤ⨯ if any of the following trigger you, please click off: dead dove: do not eat ; non-con ; female!reader ; violence ; (minor character) deaths ; assault ; possessiveness ; yandere themes ; choking ; toxic & unhealthy relationships ; forceful actions ; suggestive themes ; semi-smut ; threats & insults ; angsty? ; childe is an asshole ; not proofread

ㅤ⨯ archive :: taglist :: inbox / appeal information :: 18+ ONLY

Why… Why… Why… You wanted to ask. You wanted to scream out till’ your lungs give you in. Your feet were planted on the ground firmly, refusing to move an inch as you watch the Harbinger pierce his blades into the chest of your mother repeatedly, the water of his weapon slowly being stained with dark blood, blood that’s mixed with different victims that have witnessed his wrath. Including yours. You eye the wound on your arm, the red liquid was still dripping and staining the ground under you. “Why…” it barely even came out as a whisper, more like a simple breath of the wind most people would ignore but not to him. What can you expect from a man that made You, a person he should have cared less for, his main priority in his life.

“Why…?” you sobbed out, bringing your head up from the floor to find him staring right back at you. The Harbinger stands up and carelessly lays your mother figure to the ground before kicking it out of his sight, dissipating his water blades into thin air as blood continues to stain him and maybe you in the process. “‘Why,’ you ask?” Childe hums, making his way towards you, raising his hand to meet your cheek but you slap it away before he could even touch. “Answer me.” you grit your teeth at the man who was smiling sadistically at you.

“Wow, what a feisty girl. Didn’t know you had it in you, love.” he chuckles, his hand coming in contact with your hand, gripping it and dirtying it with mixed blood. You groan and pull your hand away from his grasp and land a hit on his face. You leave him breathless for a second before his pupils dilated, touching the very spot you slapped him on and caressing it. “You’ve changed quite a lot.”

“I could say the same for you, Tartaglia.” you scoot away from him, your fists clenching in case he makes another move on you. He simply just laughs, each breath he takes, his laughter goes lower and lower until he is glaring at you with that very same sinister grin on his face. “As much as everything you do makes me breathless,” he says through his smile, “You speaking my codename isn’t it. Change that up, hun.”

“Nothing you do will make me change what I feel about you.” A hint of resentment was visible in your eyes, your pupils decreasing its usual size. You tried… Tried to seem threatening but to him he adored it. Even if you managed to intimidate him, he wouldn’t really back out, can he? He knows he’s stronger. He’s a survivor of the Abyss, the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Even if he was the Eleventh, the title of being a Harbinger alone is impressive and shows a symbol of great power and strength.

“You think so?” Childe sniggers. “I know so.” you reply boldly, attempting to stand back up only to get knocked down by the stomach by Childe’s elbow, “Oh, we’re not done yet. You’re staying here until our business is done.” you glare at his response, what does this man mean by business? If he means torturing you more than you know that seeing your family die before your eyes is more than torture. You attempt to dart away from him if standing wasn’t an option but he stops you by gripping your ankle.

“Get your fucking hand away from me, Tartaglia.” you sneer but it doesn’t stay for longer when he has his hand around your neck and pins you down, using it as a leverage. You can see his eyes darkening from your lips simply saying his title. “Like I said… You’re staying here until our business is done, [Y/N].” he emphasized with a growl at the end of the sentence as he quickly squeezed your throat. You felt the wetness in the corners of your eyes drip as he pushed you further into the ground. Eyes widening instantly when you realize he’s blocking your airway by choking you, his grip on your neck was unbearably tight and if he continued to stay like this you would–

You can’t breathe, you’re letting out panic and quick pants from your mouth as you try to get his grasp from your throat by pulling his wrist away but he’s stronger… You know that. So why not give up? You don’t want to. You can’t either. You try to kick him off with your legs punching his gut, Childe only groaned and laughed. “Hah,” he sighs, but that quickly turns into loud laughter.

“Haha!” he jests, pushing you on the floor as your consciousness slowly slips away from you. “Go on! Keep trying, it makes the job easier. Just look at you, turning blue from my hand around your throat.” he muses, a grin forming on his face sinisterly. You want to argue, but not in this situation. You could barely breathe and voicing out your thoughts will worsen. But in the end, you’d faint from the loss of breath and he would win in the end. He can easily overpower you anytime he wants. That’s a perk of being a Harbinger trained under an unknown woman from the Abyss.

“Sleep well. I’ll be waiting.” he coos lowly, your eyelids drooping lower as you let out your last breath before you faint. Once you do, he slowly pulls his grasp around your throat and admires the handprint on it. A nice dull, desaturated red. Almost the color of the blood of his opponents. Childe brings your unconscious body into his embrace and carefully stands up, looking back to see the limp figures of your family members laying on the floor, all bloodied and dismembered from his hold. If he could be honest, it was their fault, they disapproved of him ever since he was a member of the Fatui and the idea of their precious daughter to get associated with him was something they’d never want. You were okay in keeping contact with him and didn’t think much of his status. But that didn’t go through with your family. They even go as far as to separate the two of you and cut all ties with his family in order to keep you safe and away from him.

Oh what a bad decision they made.

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.

Your eyes groggily open, and your body twitches beneath the mattress you were sleeping on. Your hand tries to touch your brow, but something prevents it. You examined your wrists and discovered that it was connected to the headboard of the bed, leaving you vulnerable and unable to move. You struggle under the restraints, desperate to be freed but a door has already been opened before you could move any further. "Ah, you're awake," says a familiar voice from the other side of the room, as footsteps approach your bed.

“I hope you don’t mind the chains. I didn’t want you escaping so this was a better alternative!” A glee came from Childe, that broad and boyish smile of his not wavering one bit when he sees your harsh glare. “Let me go,” you growl, shuffling on the bed aggressively but it only worsens the pain on your wrists.

“Oh come on, don’t get mad at me now. Be thankful you got chained in my bedroom instead of something much brutal.” He grabs your chin to stop you from moving too much, his grip is tight, one wrong breath and he’ll tighten it more so you sit still.

All of the sudden, his grin widens, but not in a good way. “Or maybe you’d like what I originally planned more.” The dark glint on his eyes becomes evident, “But let’s get you fed first. It’s been hours since you’ve passed out and you must be starving after that long!” And it switches up all too suddenly. It’s as if the man forgot that he kidnapped you and did monstrous things to your family.

He then places the tray on a desk near the bed. Childe eyes the handcuffs on your hand and shrugs, “You’ll get used to this.” He assures you, taking the hot, steaming bowl of soup and placing it near your face, the spoon already scooping the broth and placing it in front of your lips.

“Come on. Say ‘ahh’” the ginger-head instructs, blowing air on the spoonful of stew so you’re able to consume it. You wanted to protest but your stomach grumbles before you can do so, making the harbinger chortle. “Might as well open your mouth. It’ll make things easier for you… And your stomach.” He points out.

You purse your lips, shaking your head. This causes Childe to frown heavily, “You really are stubborn, aren’t you?” His jaw clenches, “You’re lucky I’m a patient man. Now, eat.” He shakes his hand, a little too aggressively but not enough to spill the bouillon. “No,” You furrow your brows, turning your head away from the spoon. “You heard me the first time.” You argued back, your fists already clenched. You would’ve thrown a punch on him if you could if it weren’t for the handcuffs.

“You really don’t know who you’re messing with, [Y/N].” The way he spoke your name was strong, almost intimidating. “I can shut the fucking mouth of yours if I wanted to. Hell, I’ll do that right now.” Childe smiles grimly, the sinister gleam on his eyes shine, the hand that was holding the spoonful of soup placed inside of his mouth, his free hand clutching onto your shirt and pulling you raspingly into his lips, forcing you to drink in the hot liquid.

You feel his tongue penetrate through your lips, forcing them open. Your chin was trapped between his fingers and he uses this to tilt your head backwards so you can drink the broth that he pours. You feel yourself coughing into Childe’s lips but he doesn’t budge one bit, only pushing you down the mattress with his arm behind your neck. Your attempts in pushing away were fruitless, so your only choice was biting his lip until it bled.

Fortunately that worked, though he didn’t pull away instantly. He let his tongue explore your mouth before doing so, it seems like he was enjoying how the soup tastes mixed with his blood. Childe lets out a few breaths before looking down at you, the corners of his mouth still stained with a bit of red liquid and dried up broth. “Don’t you think I’m done with you. You barely finished a portion of the soup.” He chuckles, his hand making its way to the bowl to scoop more fluid into his mouth until your foot kicks his thigh, making him freeze and look towards you.

“I-I’ll eat… Just not from your mouth.” You try to reason with him but he continues to drink up the liquid, his cheeks puffing a bit from the soup taking up the space inside of his mouth. You just know that he wasn’t going to do it your way by the way he’s leaning down on you and pressing his lips against yours. Pouring in whatever he has in your mouth yet again. You furrow your brows as tears flow down your cheeks, the taste is bitter. It leaves a bad taste on your tongue and a fog in your mind.

.

.

.

You pant heavily, your chest was visibly rising from up and down as you stare up at Childe without breaking eye contact. The man didn’t show one bit of remorse for what he’s done to you. That shit-eating grin that was spread across his face shows it. He shuffles and rises up from the bed, taking the half-eaten bowl of soup before walking away. The moment he’s at the door, he turns his head to look back at you, eyes watching you from head-to-toe before nodding and walking away, seemingly amused.

You shake on Childe’s bed, throwing your head back as you sob. What have you fucking gotten into? Your eyes are squinted tight, your wrists are still painfully wounded from how forceful Childe was when handling your body not too long ago when you’re trying to set them free from the chains. To set yourself from things getting worse. You couldn’t stop wiggling your body on the mattress in an attempt to loosen yourself from the handcuffs.

This could’ve ended differently… Maybe if you knew and saw the red flags in his letter or the way he acted when he was around you, you would’ve escaped. But you should doubt that. The man’s a Harbinger, a child who fell into the Abyss, a striving and unmatched warrior and most importantly, a manipulative companion who always gets what he wants. And you being a long-time friend only worsens it since the both of you knew each other more deeply than anyone else. He knew your weaknesses, your likes, dislikes and everything.

And you don’t know any of his weaknesses. It was hard to guess. You only knew a few and it was you. But being his weakness also means being his strength, you know how you get him. You were his source of motivation. If you weren’t then he wouldn’t be torturing people to tell him about your whereabouts ever since your family cut ties with him.

“Don’t sleep on me now~ We still have yet to clean you up!” Childe chimes in the room once again, a towel in his hand as he approaches and kneels on the floor. His arms are on the mattress of the bed, his head firmly placed in between them as he stares at you. “I haven’t bathed you properly and seeing the stains on your shirt, you wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping in something dirty, right?” He attempts to sway you. “I may be a bad guy, but I’m no monster.” You wanted to laugh. What the actual fuck does he mean by that?

You decide not to protest. You were too tired to do so and your lips could barely sound out a breath. “Good girl.. You’ve finally learned your lesson!” Childe grins at the wig hut of your tired face, the blush on your cheeks evident from the messy and hard kisses he’s been giving you. He trails his finger on them, slowly moving them downwards until they reach your neck, carefully grasping it, causing you to choke on your deep breaths.

“Good girls deserve rewards, correct?” Childe tilts his head with that stupid grin on his face. He must be proud at how much of a mess he’s made out of you. How much control he has over you. He knows you know it, he’s laughing to himself right now. “So let me reward you..” His smile drops, as well as his voice.

He didn’t waste a millisecond to bring his right arm under your knees and his left arm beneath your back. Shaking you a bit so that you wouldn’t sleep when he bathes you. “Stay awake for me, pretty. Don’t want you drowning.” He snickers with a teasing grin on his face. He takes quick but careful steps to the open door that leads to the bathroom. He sat you down in the bathtub and prompted you to take your clothes off. You can feel the embarrassment bubble up inside of you as well as your jaw tightening. “Come on, now. Don’t get too shy~ You’re gonna get used to this soon enough.” he traces the shape of your cheek before he lets his finger move lower to your neck to unbutton one button of your collar.

“You’re a big girl now, right?” He murmurs softly, grabbing your hand and placing it on your shirt, silently commanding you to undress. “But I don’t mind if I could do it instead. I’d be more than happy to see you trust in me in this.” Childe was trying his best to go easy on you. He knew he wouldn’t go anywhere if he continued to torture you.

He’ll make sure he’s all you can rely on. The only person you can trust in this dim cabin in the middle of nowhere.

“No.. I can do it.” You push his hand away as you slowly unbutton your shirt, each time you show a bit of your skin with each button, his gaze intensifies. He couldn’t help but put his hands on the sides of your stomach, his thumb brushing the soft and bare skin. He leans in and uses his teeth to drag the collar of your shirt to the side to reveal more of your figure. “So pretty..” he praises, licking a stripe of your shoulder. You sat there, frozen and clutching onto his shirt, attempting to push him away.

He notices this and controls his urges. He’s not gonna do anything, yet. “Undress the rest of your clothing for me.” He pulls away and stands up to discard his gloves. You do as he says and unzip your jeans, kicking them off. You were only left with your undergarments and the way he eats up every bare skin of your body makes you feel unsafe to what he’s gonna do next.

Childe really has a hard time breathing at the sight of you. God he’d just take you there right now but he slaps himself to the thought of it. “Not yet..” He scolds himself internally. He’ll do it once the time is right. For now, he needs you cleaned up. “Take those off too.” You swore you heard a low grunt at the end of his sentence but you didn’t dare question it. You unclip your bra from behind, struggling a bit from taking it off before finally letting it fall off your shoulders and onto your lap. 

Childe stares at you, admiring every curve and contour but he snaps out of it once your hands lowered to take off your underwear too. His eyes were stuck on your lap and at the sight of your cunt. He lets out a heavy huff he didn’t know he was holding for so long and grabs your undergarments, placing them in the sink. A moment later, he turned on the water faucet and washed your naked body with soap. Occasionally brushing the scars (that he made) with his thumb to soothe you (as well as admiring it as if it’s a work of art.)

It didn’t take too long to finish bathing you. It’s probably the first time you’ve behaved around him but that doesn’t mean you’ll tolerate him for long. Childe gently grabs your chin and tilts it upwards for your eyes to face him. You thought he’d do something he wasn’t supposed to but he just simply caressed the bruise on your cheek. You could only sigh and hope whatever he wanted to do just finishes.

“Let’s get you settled..” Childe gets up from his kneeling position and grabs a white towel. He turns his head and gestures to you to get out of the tub. You did what he commanded and stood up from the water and stepped out of it. You cringe at the cold breeze meeting your skin as the water droplets sticking on your drop to the ground.

You notice the ginger-haired man’s hesitance when seeing your bare body in all of its glory. The water made your skin glisten a bit, all he wanted to do now was mouth your neck, your collarbone, literally anywhere. He wasn’t being picky at this point. He just wanted his hands all over your body.

He couldn’t contain himself much longer and dropped the towel as he desperately strides towards you to wrap his arms around your waist and pull your wet body on his clothed one. His hands obsessively ravaging your hips and your back, “Fuck… So pretty for me, yeah?” He grunts at the feeling of being so close to you, chest-to-chest, trapped in his arms with no escape and no choice but to deal with his horrid affection. “All for me…” His fingers pat your bare hip until it reaches your ass, squeezing it lightly. You froze and clutch onto his shirt, “Stop… Please..” You plead, but he growls. “Fine..” he responds but doesn’t let you distance yourself from him.

Childe grabbed the towel that fell on the floor, he turns to you again and dry your body up, periodically brushing your intimate parts with his lips, saying it was to quicken the process. He wasn’t even trying to make a better excuse.

With one last stroke of the towel around your breasts, he pulls away and admires his work. “I’ll get you some clothes. Come with me.” he places the towel on a towel rail and leads you to– most likely– his room.

He sits you down on the edge of the bed as he explores through a closet of clothes. Maybe… Just maybe you could knock him out. He was really distracted at the moment but you don’t have anything to attack him with. Even if you did, you’d be dead. He’s not that weak nor does he have slow instincts to sense what’s wrong.

“Hey..” Childe snaps his fingers in front of your face, snapping you out of your trance. Your eyes widen and blink a few times before looking up at him, confused. Childe stares at you for a moment before letting out a chuckle and sighing, amused at your act. “Done daydreaming, sweetheart?” he teases before handing you some folded group of clothes. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay like that for too long. But I don’t mind such a sight either way… I’ll think of other ways to heat you up if you let me.” He smirks and you internally cringe at his remark in trying to bed you.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Childe.” You grin awkwardly at him and attempt to grab the clothes from his hands but he refuses to give you it. “[Y/N].” He spoke your name. He sounded mad, as if you did or said something wrong and offending. “Yes, Chil–”

“Don’t call me that.” He cuts you off with a stern tone. The way his eyes narrow at how your lips voiced out his name— his codename to be specific. A name that’s normally used by either enemies or acquaintances that he's barely close with. “It’s Ajax.. Just call me that, [Y/N]. It’s just two syllables and four letters.”

“...”

Childe notices your silence and sighs, feeling frustrated. “Just this once at least.. Please?” he begs and you swore he looked pathetic like that. You can’t believe this is the exact same man who just committed manslaughter yesterday and got rid of your whole family. “...Ajax.” You mussitate,  a hint of annoyance within your tone from his persistence.

You were unable to catch the self-satisfied smile he had on his lips. Childe lets out a content hum as he places the pile of clothes on your hands and pushes you to sit on the edge of the bed. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He expresses his mirth fatuously, “Get dressed. I’ll take a bath. Behave for me, alright? Don’t go out without my permission.” He spoke softly, holding your shoulder, his grip was threatening but soon enough softened, taking it out of your body. He stared at you for a moment, his gaze on you didn’t waver as he studied every detail on you.

With a turn of his heel, he left and entered the bathroom, closing it and locking it as water started running inside.

You sat on the bed's edge. Feeling overwhelmed, the sound of his voice, the way his touch sends shocking shocks through your body. You were overthinking what had just happened and didn't see how your body began to shake from the cold. You wore the long-sleeved sweater and pajamas gently, shaking the thoughts out of your head. It strangely fits... Did he get your size while you were sleeping? But it didn't appear brand new if he did manage to get your size and buy clothing for it.

You stood up and walked onto the exit door of the bedroom you were in, looking towards the door where Childe was bathing. When you're close enough, you palm the knob and turn it slowly so as not to create too much noise.

The corners of your lips raise a bit when you successfully open the door but it soon drops when you hear another door creak behind you. “What do you think you’re doing?” an austere voice rumbles from a few feet. Slowly turning your head, you’re met with the sight of Childe’s bare chest that was dripping with hot water.

You were so distracted by his sudden closeness that you didn’t notice his hand closing the door while leaning in front of you so it couldn’t be opened. “Be a dear and get out of the way.” his tone wasn’t as gentle as before. You warned yourself not to get him mad or else you’ll face something you’ll regret. You let out a sigh as you take a step to the side and awkwardly walk towards the bed to sit there again. Childe seems to calm down from the way his shoulders slump as he locks the door. He turns to look at you before making his way over to the bed, “Look at me.” he commands, gripping your chin harshly.

Once making eye contact with you, he stayed silent. You knew what he was saying from how his eyes were narrowing while he let out uneven, heavy breaths.

It didn’t take long for him to pull away in pure silence so he could dress up. Once finished, he crawls over to you and forces you to lay down on the mattress with his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you locked within his embrace. You feel his nose brush up against your nape, breathing in and familiarizing your addicting scent. “You smell divine..” The man murmurs from behind, his hand palming your stomach in a loving way. He feels the way you tense up from his touches and he hums, grinning from the feeling. “Relax… I won’t do anything yet.”

His ‘reassuring’ words only served to stiffen you up. Childe sighs before his grip tightens around you and wraps a leg around your pair. He decided to just stay silent, assuming you’ll get used to his presence around you soon enough. It’s not like you have a choice either way.

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“Dear…” Childe murmurs longingly as he turns his body to face yours. He’s been tossing and turning all night during his sleep and he didn’t notice that until now. He opens his eyes tiredly with a sheepish smile as his arms wrap around the soft figure in front of him, “I’m so sorry about that… Did I wake you?” he asks, his tone tinged with a bit of guilt.

No response.

Childe purses his lips as he shakes his head and sits up, gripping what seems to be your shoulder and forcing you to look at him.

But it wasn’t you. It was just a pillow.

Upon his realization, he quickly got up and searched around the house for you. It’s not like you’ve gotten far, right? Not to the point you’re outside the cabin he’s trapping you in. All the doors were locked, windows closed shut so that your weak body couldn’t open it.

That is, until he noticed the front door lock on the floor. He wouldn't have seen your escape if it weren't for the gleaming metal flashing in the dark. As he slammed the front door wide, he noticed footsteps, footprints pointing towards the woodland that encircled the lodge. He grits his teeth before donning the dark, heavy coat that had been hanging nearby before stepping out to get you and take you back inside.

Even though everything was dark, he could see where he was going. Where you were going. It won't be long before he catches up with you. He realizes you didn't go very far. You're too lost in this forest and you'll end up back where you started(. There’s a reason why he set up this specific forest when trapping you). Do you really think you can escape him that easily? He chuckles to himself. It’s amusing. It’s good to have some determination, some hope at least, but it’s also good to be realistic. 

.

.

.

You ran and ran as fast as you could, away from the cabin in the woods, away from the creature within it. Your feet hurt severely. You’ve underestimated how harsh the winter of Snezhnaya is, how the breeze alone causes your whole body to turn numb from the cold. What’s worse was that you couldn’t stop moving no matter what. Even a single second counts, driving you closer to your escape.

You struggle to breathe after all that movement, causing you to stumble against a thick tree root. You pant, taking heavy breaths to regain your composure but you can’t really be calm in a situation like this, can you?

You stood up, dusting the snow off your clothes as you continued forward, trembling a bit from feeling the sudden warmth rising up your body. Fuck… This is gonna be the death of you..

You hear footsteps tapping behind you, approaching you slowly and surely. A howl can be heard from behind that was soon followed by a growl. You slowly turned your head in search of the source of the sound and quickly regretted it. The sight of the darkish Rifthounds glaring at you sent a shiver on your spine. They were quite far but it didn’t take awhile for them to start noticing your presence and preparing to teleport or sprint at you.

You saw the Rockfound Rifthound instantly turning its body, disappearing for a second before appearing right in front of you, about to swing its tail to attack you. You shriek out loud, your legs instinctively move to the opposite direction only for you to instantly get knocked forward when feeling the tail make contact with your back. Groaning, you attempt to get back up, ignoring the sights of the Whelps drawing nearer towards you.

You clenched your fist before grabbing a big enough rock and throwing it at the Rifthound that just attacked you to catch it off guard. Seeing it roar in pain and the Whelps looking towards their leader, you took this chance to escape from the creature's grasp.

Never have you felt this much adrenaline rushing through your vines. You felt so dead yet so alive right now…

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a static of Electro rotating over to you. The projectile makes an impact on your side, causing you to get pushed and injured in the process. You grunt gutturally, clutching your hip and left arm, hissing as the sting worsens the more contact it has with your hand and other solid things.

You look over to your side, spotting a Thundercraven Rifthound nearing you along with its accompaniment of Whelps. Your hands swiftly touch the ground swiftly, moving it in hope to find another rock but to no avail.

You were trying to think of a way to escape this but there was no way out. You were surrounded by the mobs, and they looked like they wouldn’t let you off the hook easily. You spot a current of Electro and what seems to be aiming at you. You pulled your arms to your face, blocking whatever was about to touch you.

You hiss at the feeling of the electrifying scratch on the small reveal of your skin and twitch when hearing the wail of the Rifthounds around you. Another guttural sound erupts not so far from where you sit, causing you to press your face deeper into your arms.

“Get up.” Someone spoke, their tone serious and authoritative.

It took about a few seconds to do exactly that. You spot that the Rifthounds were gone, only leaving parts of their body left behind. You knew you weren’t strong but it did surprise you that every single one of them was taken care of. “T-Thank you, mister–?”

“I said– Get Up.” His voice booms through you, causing your ear to ring a bit. You perk your head up with your eyes squinted, “Apologies… I–” A breath was taken away from your lungs upon feeling the man’s hand wrapped around your neck, dragging you from the ground up to the sky. The hand squeezes your throat tightly, making you swing your legs on instinct to kick whoever was holding you. “All under my mercy now, huh? What happened to your acts of disobedience? Did it all get thrown out the window once I teach you your lesson?” The man scoffs, harshly dropping you on the snowy ground and kicking you on your stomach, making you turn and tumble down into a group of bushes.

You hiss, the feeling of small pricks picking into your skin, causing small but nasty scars that leave you groaning. You couldn’t see, some even scratched near your eyes and for you not to get blinded by them, you squint your eyelids shut.

“Please– I’m sorry! Let me out!” You sob, trembling in fear, in the stinging pain of the pricks. “Oh, are you now?” The man walks towards the bush, tapping his foot as he watches you struggling. ”Do you mean it?” He plants his foot on top of the bush, slowly but surely deepening its form to strangle you more.

“Yes– I do! Agh–”

“Beg for your life if you mean it.” He deepens it once more. Even if you were under this confined space of a bush, you can spot the sadistic grin plastered on his face, clearly enjoying every second of your suffering. “P-please… I plead.. For mercy. Please.. I can’t br–eathe-hah!” You breathe heavily in between your words, the form of the bush only trapping you little by little. “Do you promise… Pinkie promise to not escape out of my grasp? To obey my every command, dearest?” You feel your hand being taken out of the bush and into the cold air outside. You whine, feeling the small pricks touch your skin in the process.

A pinkie awaits to intertwine with yours, “I’m waiting.” He reminds by delving his foot deeper, causing you to cry out in agony and wrapping your pinkie around his, “I promise! Please!”

“That’s my girl.” He jests in amusement as he pulls away, cracking his knuckles and stretching his body to dive in and carefully but surely pull you out of the spiky bush. He cringes a bit once spotting the small spikes in your skin. He sighed and decided to take care of them later since keeping you warm was his priority right now. Taking his jacket off and wrapping it around you, he made sure the pricks didn’t bother you on the way back to the cabin. He takes a look at the rose bush one last time before picking one of it up and placing it on the chest of his jacket.

He caresses the petals before his fingers meet your chin to tilt them up, “C’mon.. Rest. You’re gonna need it.” He hushes you quietly before forcefully closing your eyes.and pecking your forehead. You couldn’t soften up in his presence even if you wanted to but the way your body just betrays you, forcing you to go limp to gain rest it needs, it gave you no choice to stay awake even if you wanted to.

.

.

.

“You’re awake, I see..” A voice spoke from above. You twitch, turning your head to the source and furrowing your brows upon spotting the oh-so familiar, scarred and freckled face that was right in front of you. You attempt to push him away by nudging your knee against his abdomen but that was countered from a sharp pain coming from both your legs. “..Ahah–!” You let out a roar of discomfort. Chidle grins and jests upon seeing your face contort in displeasure, “You should think twice before doing that. I still haven’t fully catered your body yet.”

He pulls your leg lightly which is enough for your body to get dragged onto his lap. “Don’t move.” He commands, emphasizing it with a squeeze of your thigh.

You internally whimper when you feel him slowly but surely take the thorns out of your skin. “How cute.” he laughs softly, patting a wet, warm towel on the small open wound. “You’re doing great. Just as you should. Continue behaving for me, will you? It’s not like you’re going anywhere with these.” He plays around with the chains around your ankle that was connected to a wall. “It fits you well, don’t you think?” Childe murmurs lovingly, as if he’s admiring the work he’s done on you… Trapped, under his mercy, with no escape.

After finishing up the wounds on your left leg, he leans in close to your face, his hand cupping your waist to bring you closer to him, close enough to place a kiss on your forehead. “There we go… Such a behaved little thing.” Childe jests before standing up and dusting his pants. “Hopefully this will be enough for you. Sleep well, alright?” He pats and ruffles your hair, his hand sliding down to your cheek and caressing it. “Don’t try escaping me. Because next time, you won’t even get to be sleeping under this damnation.”

You tried to bite his palm because it was so close to your mouth, but he took his hand away and quickly brought it back to hit you, turning your head the other way as your cheek erupted in pain. His hand catches your chin and angles it violently in his direction as you hiss. He's grinning viciously, his eyes twitching with annoyance at your attempt to turn the tables on him again, “Still being a bitch? Thought you learnt your lesson… Maybe I should’ve left you to rot.” He snarled, gripping your chin tighter.

“Waste of fucking breath.” He pushes you against the wall and lets go of you, standing with a displeased expression and turning to take his leave as you groan in pain. You clenched your hands into a fist as you watched him climb up the stairs and reach for the door. Childe looks back, glancing upon you one more time before smiling in content to himself and shutting it, following with the sound of a key locking in.

You were now by yourself. But then again it was much better than having to be breathing the same air as the man who just hit you.

You side meets the dirty mattress under you as you hug your knees, seeing as he didn’t give you a blanket to keep yourself warm. You were unable to muffle down your silent sobs, clutching onto your own cheek as it continued to sting. You question… You wonder, why?

…Just why?

°

Ouch… Huh?

You groggily opened your eyes, the feeling of something biting your neck. A wet sensation was followed after and you instantaneously snapped out of your tired trance to grab whatever was in front of you. “Ah– Geez… Relax, will you? This mattress is dirty enough.. Wouldn’t want blood to stain it too..” Childe groaned, his hand groping your hip harshly to make you pause. He pulls his face away from your neck, wiping the saliva dripping from his mouth. “H-hey! Have you not had enough already?!” You screeched and tried to get him off of you but were unable to. “Shut it.” he scoffs, shutting your mouth by forcing his lips onto you.

He slips his hand underneath your shirt, touching every part he wishes. “You feel so divine.. I wonder how you’d feel around me, yeah?” He grins against your lips. His tongue intrudes into your wet cavern, drinking in your moans and muffled noises. The wet sounds of his mouth against yours, showing how desperate he is for your taste.

You whine, feeling Childe’s hand exiting your shirt to enter your shorts instead, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clothed cunt. He sighs, pulling away from the kiss, admiring the string of saliva connecting your lips. Licking his lips, he brings his face close to you until you are nose-to-nose. 

“Wanna try that out with me, my dear?”

© wiltedivinity 2024. reposting, plagiarizing, translating, claiming authorship or any form of unauthorized use is strictly prohibited. legal action may be taken against violators.

#wiltedivinity ; wilting divinities #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #childe smut #tartaglia smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin yandere #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #ajax x reader #dead dove do not eat #wiltedivinity ; childe - tartaglia

[ddarker-dreams]

Old Habits Die Hard. Yan Childe x F Reader [COMM]

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, mention of minor character death, mentions of pregnancy, brief mention of alcohol.  Word count: 3.5k.

Sequel to Old Friends. 

“You’ve been looking at that mirror so intently, I’m starting to get jealous.”

You thought you were alone.

There aren’t many times where you are — if there’s anything the past few months have taught you, it’s that while pairs of eyes trained on your person might not be seen, they can be felt. The word privacy has been wiped clean from your lexicon. On the few occasions the term sneaks into your mind, you can’t help but laugh, for if you didn’t, you’re certain you’d cry. You’re confident you’ve wept enough to turn even the driest deserts into a sprawling oasis, should your tears have been collected.

That’s why you don’t cry, not anymore.

For it erodes you more than it washes away your sorrows.

Footsteps click behind you, slow and steady, the gait of a learned hunter. You recall how different they used to be when Ajax was a child, he’d practically stumble over himself to catch up to you. It’s like he thought you’d disappear in a puff of smoke had he not gone as fast as his little legs could carry him. You suppose he’s outgrown that, or perhaps, the chase is long over in his mind. He needn’t run after you when he knows you have nowhere to go.

A specter appears alongside your reflection in the mirror. Its eyes might not be reduced to hollowed-out sockets and its skin is far from gaunt, but it invokes primal fear inside you nonetheless. The apparition is warm, made of flesh and bone, boasting a heart that yearns for you to the point he’d rip it out and present it should you ask. What a shame you have no interest in his accursed heart. You want your husband’s heart back. Alas, for all his power and influence, that is the one thing Ajax can’t — and wouldn’t — provide.

“I really could just stand here for hours upon hours, if this was my view,” his breath tickles the back of your exposed nape, as he rests his gloved hands on your hips. “How could I not? Look at you, dusha moya, zhizn' moya*. Just beautiful. Ah, you’re really tempting me to cancel our plans for the evening so I can have you all to myself.”

Ajax places a kiss on the back of your neck, his lips lingering. They always do. “Shame that I can’t. Our guest might never forgive me for robbing him of a chance to see you. Oh, there’s no need to be scared though! I notice you always take such care in watching your tongue when meeting with my comrades, there’s no need. You’re to be the wife of a Harbinger. Have some confidence.”

He squeezes you and grins.

“Really, you can say anything. Absolutely anything. Hurl your worst insults at ‘em. If they were to get offended, then well, they can always feel free to take it up with me,” he winks. Your painted lips try to form the curvature of a smile, at what you assume is a joke. There’s no telling with Ajax. “Hm… maybe not our guest tonight, since I can clearly see you plotting away there. Or visualizing my death. One of the two.”

“... Would you really consider canceling tonight’s dinner?” You inquire, trying to navigate past the muck of Ajax’s abhorrent sense of humor. “I don’t know if I’m feeling up to it.”

Or, to be specific, what you plan to do after it. However, he didn’t need to know that part.

He rests his chin atop your head. “Well, here’s the thing. I’d love to say yes, trust me, I really would, but we canceled on him last time. And the time before that. At this rate, we might just hurt Pulcinella’s feelings. He thinks you’re an absolute gem, y’know. Always gave the most glowing reviews when I asked him to check up on you.”

You’ve learned that if he doesn’t immediately jump to fulfill your requests, it’s better to not waste your time.

The sigh you let out is akin to a shudder. “Alright.”

Using his inhuman strength, he plucks you from the ground as if you were a feather, and twirls you in circles. “There’s my sweet girl, always putting others first. Have I ever told you that I adore you? Because I— [First]?”

You can feel the blood draining from your face and perspiration building on your skin. Ajax puts you down with the utmost care, and though your body is no longer spinning, your head most certainly is. For once, you welcome how he steadies you instead of wanting nothing more than to swat his hands away. He keeps you still while you squeeze your eyes shut, willing and praying away the miserable sensations plaguing you.

“Here, let’s get you sitting down— water, I need to grab you a glass of water…”

While he barks some orders to his nearby underlings, you take deep breaths. You open up a gift basket of warm memories that might actually soothe you, unlike the words Ajax whispers into your ear as he rubs your arms up and down. Metal barbs would be preferable to his touch.

You think about the time you came home to an awful burning smell, only to find a sheepish Nikolay and your charred favorite dessert that he wished to greet you with upon the countertop. You spent that entire evening teaching him the proper methodology, whipping everything up from scratch. Oh, how precious he looked when he scrunched his nose up, actually writing notes on everything you said, down to the most inane. You teased him for this then.

“I can always give you a refresher if you ever forget,” you had told him.

He coughed into his hand, further smearing the flour on his face that you put minutes prior. He never failed to go along with your whims. “I’m aware, but… how could I ever surprise you if I did that?”

You’re back at home. In your kitchen, with the dishcloths that need to be mended because you could never bring yourself to throw them away, and the matching mugs Nikolay put his infamous hot chocolate in, tiptoeing around that creaky little floorboard that neither of you had gotten around to fixing just yet. Everything’s as it should be. Picturesque. You’re with the man you love, he’s alive and well, there’s a healthy flush in his face—

—All dreams must come to an end, except for nightmares.

“There we go, you’re doing great. Nice and steady. Keep taking it easy. I’m not going anywhere.”

How you wish he would. Back into that abyss you prayed for him to be freed from for months on end, or six feet beneath the ground, so long as it was someplace permanently away from you. You hate him. You hate that the same hands that ended your husband’s life have free access to roaming your body. You hate his voice, how he casts it as he used to his fishing rod, working so hard to reel you in when the hook does nothing but make you bleed. You hate that he makes you call him Ajax. He isn’t Ajax. You don’t know who he is. Or what he is.

“I don’t want you to overdo it,” he mutters, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sure Pulcinella will understand. I’ll work something out—”

“No, it’s fine. I can handle this. Just… give me a few minutes to get regrouped, and I’ll come down.”

Ajax assesses you for a long second then stands. “Alright, if you insist. I know better than to treat you like a fragile little thing. If it gets to be too much, just let me know. I’ll be waiting for you in the hallway.”

He doesn’t make any move to leave until you nod. Even then, his eyes linger on your hunched-over form, and you have no doubt he wants to press you further. You give him your best smile to hopefully put him at ease. Whether or not the action works as intended, he finally departs, granting the solitude you’ve longed for since the second he walked through the door. You gulp down the water he had a servant fetch for you and rise to your feet.

Back in front of the full-length mirror, you take in your appearance from multiple angles.

You were fortunate that this is the outfit Ajax sat out for you tonight. A midnight blue chiffon dress that flared out at the waist, rather than hugging your body tightly. Your hand, adorned in a lacy white glove, hovers right above your midriff. After gathering your courage, you press your hand down to feel for any inconsistencies, holding your breath while you do so.

Still nothing, you think, relief too fleeting to appreciate. How much longer…?

You shake your head.

Ajax has kept many secrets from you. He said it was always with your benefit in mind — he took no pleasure in concealing so many aspects of himself from you, his dearly beloved. He didn’t want to ‘cause additional stress’ after what you were unfortunate enough to witness a few weeks prior. Nikolay’s bloody end was never supposed to be in front of you, Ajax insists, like that makes it any better. Had your husband just followed through on his word, rather than attempting to flee with you in tow, you would’ve been saved some grief.

Your arms fall limp to your side and you laugh, the sound soft enough that not even the prying ears listening to your every movement could pick up on it.

Ajax has kept many secrets from you.

It’s only fair that you keep this one from him.

-

“May I see your engagement ring, Miss [Last]?”

Pulcinella, unlike the other dignitaries you’ve been forced to entertain, is a familiar face.

You could expect to see him a few times every month. What you thought to be a pure coincidence at the time was likely orchestrated, but nonetheless, you never found these encounters unpleasant. You were beginning to think you might be friends. He’d inquire about your latest pupils, your husband’s business endeavors, and whether or not there was anything he could do for you. The special attention from an individual high up in the Fatui’s echelon never struck you as too odd, considering your former connections with Ajax and the ties you made from tutoring the children of important Schenzayan persons.

Due to this background between you both, you thought you’d feel more comfortable around him, at least compared to the others you’ve shared this table with. It isn’t until now that you realize this assumption was the furthest thing from the truth. For you can’t help but recall one of the first sentences he spoke to you many months ago.

“Could I see your wedding ring, Mrs. Semenov?”

Having someone that knew you before all this refer to you as your maiden name, instead of the treasured surname Nikolay gave you, is enough to make you freeze. Pulcinella is gracious enough not to press the matter, but Ajax isn’t. He squeezes your thigh beneath the table in a silent message. This person’s opinion matters to him. Don’t be difficult.

“Ah, yes, of course,” you mumble, hurriedly dabbing the corners of your mouth with a cloth. Ajax’s grip relaxes on you and he smiles when you produce your left hand for Pulcinella to see. Pulcinella reaches out, but before his own hand can make contact with yours, he shoots Ajax a questioning look. The latter nods and bestows his blessing for Pulcinella to make physical contact.

Pulcinella examines the gaudy thing with intrigue. “Sapphire, I presume? It’s a beautiful cut.”

“I wanted something that’d remind us of our hometown’s expansive waters,” Ajax explains, his chest practically puffing out from pride. “She’ll always be carrying a piece of me — and Morepesok — wherever she goes.”

Pulcinella chuckles and releases his hold on you. “You have him absolutely smitten, [First]. I suppose you always have. From the first day he joined our ranks, he would speak of you incessantly. I used to joke that he was more loyal to you than to the Tsaritsa herself.”

“Can you blame me?” Ajax sighs wistfully, resting his cheek on his fist and giving you a lazy grin. You occupy yourself with your meal so you don’t have to reciprocate. You don’t think you could force a smile right now even if your life depended on it.

“I find it to be a welcome development,” Pulcinella hums. “Perhaps you will fight a little less recklessly, now that you have a lovely bride dutifully awaiting your return back at home.”

That must be all you are to those complicit in your tormentor’s sins — a delicious morsel to entice the beast back into its cage. It becomes a challenge to keep your dinner down as your thoughts wander into the dark labyrinth that is your psyche in recent times. Ajax might have an affinity for combat, but there’s no way he could organize the coverup for Nikolay’s death by himself. He had to have tapped into the Fatui’s resources. It’s likely Pulcinella himself gave the blessing before Ajax enacted the plan.

With this in mind, how can you answer Pulcinella’s inquiries about what you want the hors d'oeuvres at the wedding banquet to be? If you want your wedding dress train to be long or short? The color bouquet you’d prefer to walk down the aisle with? It isn’t on your strength alone that you manage to choke up answers suitable enough to fit propriety’s demands. You feel the warm glow of your husband’s soul offering its guiding hand, serving you even in his absence. It illuminates the particular instrument you’ve been waiting weeks to see. The very reason why you powered through your malaise to participate in another humdrum dinner that meant nothing to you.

For tonight, you knew the chefs were preparing steak.

Pulcinella clears his throat and raises his glass of champagne. “I’d like to make a toast.”

Both you and Ajax raise your own glasses with varying levels of enthusiasm.

“To Miss [Last], who is the best thing that’s ever happened to young Ajax. I can see it as clear as day. You’ve had the benefit of knowing him his entire life, information that will serve you well. There’s no one more equipped to deal with him than you. By serving him as his wife, you serve Schenzaya and her interests as well. May your union endure for all time.”

And with that, your champagne flutes clink together. You take the tiniest possible sip of the dry liquid — barely enough to wet your tongue.

Nothing else of note occurs for the remainder of the dinner.

Dessert is finished in a timely manner, and before long, Pulcinella is ready to depart for the night.

“I’m going to see him out, okay?” Ajax follows up this whisper by pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Don’t bother staying up for me if you’re too tired. Unless you’re too excited by the prospect of my company to fall asleep, that is. You did great. Good job soldiering through for me.”

Another kiss, greedier than the first.

You shift in your seat, in what you pray doesn’t come off as an indication of guilt. Ajax could be perceptive to an inhuman degree or entirely oblivious — there was no way for sure to know where the dice might land. The most you could do was silently encourage him in the direction you prefer without tipping your hand. That’s what you plan to do here.

“I think I’ll help clean up. It feels… strange, being waited on hand and foot. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. The sense of normalcy would do me good.”

He all but coos at your words. “Aw, aren’t you the most precious thing? Alright, I’ll let ‘em know to expect you. Be sure not to overdo it though. Can’t have you fainting without me around to catch you.”  

You had planned the words, tone, and facial expressions to use so as to optimize your chances of success. He didn’t so much as blink at the unusual assertiveness hidden beneath the surface. You took care not to word it like a question that could be denied, but a reasonable statement, spoken like a soft suggestion. Demure. Sweet. Wifelike.

As Ajax promised, the servants of the house didn’t pay you the slightest mind when you joined them in clearing off the table. They kept an appropriate distance and didn’t speak to you more than necessary. It could be your imagination, but you think they avoid looking at you whenever possible. That’s just as well. You go through the motions, bringing dishes back to an oversized kitchen a long walk away, getting a layout for the house while you do so.

For instance, you can count the paces from your master suite on the second floor to each door. On your walk back, you do just that. The little ritual serves to soothe your unraveling nerves. One foot in front of the next. A turn to the left. Then the right. The additional weight inside your tights makes the simple act of walking an unprecedented challenge. By the time you’re opening the door to your bedroom, your heart is thrumming away. You lock your door, uncaring of the veneer of ‘privacy’ the act barely grants, and reach to pull out the damning utensil.

In your shaking hands rests a steak knife.

Comparatively speaking, everything leading up to this moment was nothing. It may have been anxiety-inducing, sure, but you had the freedom to back down the second you sensed something was awry. Whether that had been Ajax rejecting your request to help the servant’s clean up or if one of them had caught you sneaking this weapon away. The latter may have gotten you punished or scolded, depending on Ajax’s mood. You could predict that. Everything which will come after this next step is not similarly easy to guess. There is nothing that people fear more than the unknown, and you are no different in that regard.

You close your eyes and try to remember how Nikolay fought.

Where are you supposed to aim? The heart, the lungs, the head? Do you jab it forward like a spear or plunge it down with both arms? You tremble as if you were a leaf in the wind. This was never the part you cared to plan for. Every other detail you meticulously raked over while you laid awake at night, your eyes set on the ceiling since sleep was rarely gracious enough to visit. From the second the moon rose into the sky to when its bright sibling took its place, multiple variables agonized over.

Except for this one.

The knife feels heavy enough in your grasp to drag you down to the depths Ajax once emerged from.

You’re really going to go through with this. An attempt to murder in cold blood who was once a sweet little boy, who always got teary-eyed whenever you went to leave his house. Who would always choose to be your knight during make-believe, ate all the veggies on his plate if you promised to make him dessert after, and pretended he’d fallen asleep on your shoulder so you’d stay longer. The tears you thought you’d exhausted come flowing once more.

That Ajax doesn’t exist anymore, you remind yourself. He died to me the same night my husband did.

The hand that isn’t holding the knife goes to touch your stomach.

This is about far more than you now. Your dearest Nikolay may be gone from this world, but a part of him still lives on inside you. You had just started trying for children. He felt content that his business was in a place where he could support both you and the little one without you needing to immediately return to work, the reason you’d held off so long on expanding your family. You won’t let yourself view this as a curse — it has to be a miracle. Your miracle. You thought you’d never see Nikolay again, and while nothing could change that, you’d see a reflection of his features in your child.

While this would bring you unrivaled joy, what it’d make Ajax feel… you could not be certain. Nor did you want to know.

The knife is stashed beneath some belongings inside your nightstand.

You sit on the edge of your king-sized bed, your legs crossed, and mouth set in a firm line.

Footsteps echo in the empty hallway outside your room. You knew he wouldn’t keep you waiting; he never did. The crescendo grows to its apex and the doorknob rattles.

“Making me sleep on the couch, [First]? That’s rather cold. C’mon, be a dear and open up for me.”

“I’ll be right over, there’s no need for theatrics.”  

As you glide over to let him in, you wonder if he’ll have wished to have slept elsewhere once the night came to its conclusion.

-

dusha moya, zhizn' moya — Russian for my soul, my life. 

#childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere ajax x reader #ajax x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #commissions #my stuff

[wrixthesley]

𝑮𝑨𝒁𝑬 | 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑨

warnings: dubcon, stalking, yandere childe, alcohol consumption, facial, blow job, fem reader, degradation, cum eating(?), snowballing, breath play

wc: 4.1k

a/n: im baaaaack, also this is for @jozhenji ily bitch mwah

You hate Snezhnaya. 

The cold that bites at your cheeks, the way your bones ache if you stand outside too long, and how blinding the snow can be on the days where the sun is the brightest. You hate holding onto candle light to maneuver your way down the hallway of your house, only to hear talk of the Fatui growing in size and manipulating more people into joining under the harbingers from the neighbors that stop by to chat in front of your door late at night. 

“They each have their own agenda.” One of them says, as if that’s supposed to justify their actions, like they’re not all connected in some way.

“Did you hear Ajax got into another fight?” 

“Again?”

You hate him. Ajax. You hate how he always needs to be the center of attention.

You hate his laughter, his gaze, the way he starts fight after fight and how he doesn’t care if his father cries or threatens to send him to the military. You hate how he knows so much, how he thrives off of the adrenaline that runs through his veins when he knows he’s won, when he can taste it, feel it in his hands and configure it so that it adds fuel to the fire burning brightest in his chest. It’s the one of the only times his smile reaches his eyes.

You hate that it’s the same smile when he looks at you. When he thinks that he can barge in on your walks to get firewood, or when he finds one of your siblings and walks them home. He only wanted to make sure they would get home safe, he swears. 

 If Ajax could put his pride on a pedestal, he would. He would bellow in letting people watch as it grows and swallows everything in its path to take up more space, thriving on the marvel painted on people’s faces who pass, who watch as he leaves the small village of your hometown to join the Fatui. It shouldn’t have come as a shock when he was recognized because of his ability to fight. 

You think about the time that he went missing for three days causing a search party that grew so rapidly in size because his father is a respectable man, it hurt to see how little he slept. It hurt your community to see him attempt to console his other children. 

It hurt even more when you were the one Ajax showed up in front of first. 

You were looking out to the horizon, the firewood that had been collected by your side, stopping to enjoy the hot stew you had prepared for your siblings in the thermos that had been carefully wrapped to protect it from the bitter temperatures. It wasn’t exactly as hot as you expected but you welcomed the few seconds of warmth brought to your lips. It’s comforting and while looking out to the horizon, you make a silent promise to yourself to move to a nation that is always sunny, where the winds are warm, and the waters are blue. Something that would help your soul feel weightless in contrast to your current surroundings. 

When the forest is covered in snow you can hear everything, the branches that fall under the weight of the ice, the crunching of footsteps when someone passes by, and even the curses of the men who were fetching more wood for their wives; tired, exhausted, and numb. 

That day he came back, you didn’t expect to hear him, much less see him. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” You knew his voice, whipping your head around so fast because you never heard his footsteps approaching. His nose was bleeding, staining his mouth and shirt. “It’s nothing compared to you.” He smiled after wiping the blood off his nose and mouth with his sleeve, watching you in awe of how relieved you must have been when he showed himself to you.

He stumbles forward a little, laughs, “Hey, I lov-I’ve loved you from the moment we met.”

You’re the last thing he sees before he blacks out. 

Years have passed since then. You watch when Teucer and Tonia come running by with their new toys, how much easier it gets for his father to take care of himself when he’s promised that Ajax is okay and the financial hardship doesn’t consume his very being. It’s hard not to smile when Teucer looks up at you with a toothy grin, begging you to play with him again. 

You’ve never been able to tell him no, even though he has the same eyes as his older brother. 

-

You feel uneasy when Pulcinella knocks at your door one evening.

It’s routine for him to visit Ajax’s home, he is the one who offered him the position in the Fatui, you knew he had good combat skills but never would have guessed it was enough for him to be recognized as one of the harbingers. His name is no longer familiar, replaced with Tartaglia. He erases the name given to him, fully accepting his role.

You open your door for him, it would be rude not to answer when the mayor comes to your door. 

He smiles gently at you, it does nothing to relieve your nerves, makes goosebumps run down your spine and you will yourself to meet his gaze and return a smile that you would never call your own. 

“For you.” 

You let him place the box in your hand, it's rectangular, flat, and wrapped beautifully. It makes your stomach drop when his hand touches yours, you can feel a letter slip in between your hand and his, it reminds you of when your grandmother would place chocolates in your hand when you were a child. 

“Thank you.” You mumble, mouth dry and lips chapped from the unexpected visit. He nods, leaving you and waving goodbye at Ajax’s family. 

You set the box down next to the fireplace, you can hear the crackles from the wood engulfed in flames, it makes you feel less lonely at night. Now that your siblings have gone and left, you’re left to take care of the house your parents had left behind. 

You carefully unwrap the bow that sits on top, folding it neatly beside you. Your palms are sweaty when you peel back the wrapping paper. The outside is revealed with the name of an expensive boutique known for the intricate patterns of beautifully displayed lingerie. 

You stare at it in disbelief, the measurements are your size down to the millimeter, you feel like screaming. Like locking yourself in your home, blocking out the windows and doors so that no one, no one else could ever invade your privacy the way that he has. 

The black lace is decorated with hints of glitter and the satin lines it feels so, so fine. If it were from anyone else you would be enamored, delighted to wear this for someone that you held feelings for, but the only thing you feel is fear. 

You remember the letter that was placed in your hands. 

You wish you hadn’t opened it. He only speaks of the past, how he never got to tell you how grateful and happy he was to see you after he had been missing for so long.

When you returned home with Ajax, he was different, asking how many days have passed to everyone that came to visit him during his recovery, contemplating how time passes differently where he was in. When you would see him, you had reassured him over and over that it was three days, though he argued it had been three months. He used to make you retell the story again, and again, and again going over the most miniscule details until you were in tears telling him that it’s all you can remember. 

You throw the box and letter into the fire, watching the flames consume it all. You spend the remainder of the night fitting whatever parts of your life that you could in a suitcase. 

You leave the next morning. 

-

Your life in Fontaine is calmer than back home, you’re near the ocean and you bask in the warm windy hills during the day or dive into the ocean once you’ve finished your work at the small little dress boutique in the middle of the city. 

Your boss teases you about one of the Gardes that have caught your attention when he patrols, you even sparked up a conversation about your favorite flowers you’ve encountered in Fontaine. 

“Romaritime flowers!” you exclaim, “They’re beautiful. They look so pure in and out of the water.”

He places one in your hands the next time you meet, promising to take you on a proper date when he finishes patrol. 

You assume the bouquet of them at your front door was from him, assume that you would see him that night when you closed the boutique and assume that he would ask where you would like to go next. 

You spent that morning getting ready for work. Donning one of your favorite dresses, it compliments you well enough to make you stand out, but still allows you to work comfortably. It’s something your boss had given to you when you first arrived in Fontaine, the excuse was that you also needed something when you would go out. How else would you fit in? 

You cried at her kindness, something you had not encountered in years. 

You finish work that night, assuring your boss that you would close up. She gives you a hug, tells you that she wants to hear all about it when you come back after your day off. 

The clouds start to darken when she leaves. You hope it’s only temporary. 

- 

You imagine this is what heartbreak feels like. 

To trust someone with your feelings so easily only to be faced with the hard realization that they didn’t seem to care about that trust to begin with. The rain, which you hoped was short lived,  only rubs salt in the wound. It’s pouring, your shoes are in your hands and your dress is stuck to your body. You waited for two hours after the boutique closed for him to come by, you waited another hour after his patrol ended. You finally left after ten more minutes, when a young woman knew the look on your face and offered you her umbrella. You politely declined, assured her that you would be okay. 

In the end you’re left disappointed, cold, and wet. It reminds you of the numerous times you would come home from the harsh snowfall in Snezhnaya, greeted with silence when you stepped foot into your house shivering and attempting to start a fire. You hated it. 

You ignore the stares from couples strolling the night, instead focusing on the cool pavement beneath your bare feet, how the rain feels somewhat cooling to your face and how you can hide your tears. 

It’s better this way, to only rely on yourself. You’re all you have after all. 

When you return home, you toss your shoes outside to dry. Slamming the door behind you and begin struggling to peel off your dress because the fabric is soaking wet and it’s stubbornly sticking to your skin. You curse when it doesn’t come off, panting and pulling it over your head, you step on something sharp, cursing again when you finally throw your dress off and the tears threaten to spill. You curse and throw the dress into the corner of your living room. 

You’re left cold, shivering, and only in your bra and panties when you look at the blood from your foot. You begin to cry. 

Your gaze then follows the trail of broken glass on your floor, the pool of water leading up to the broken vase of the Romaritime flowers.

“Do you let others stare at you like this?” 

Your blood runs cold. You remember the same feeling back when he found you staring out into the horizon all those years ago. 

He places a hand over your mouth, holds you flush against his chest when he sneaks up from behind you. “Shh, s’kay.”

You can’t scream, you squirm in his hold, kicking and clawing at his arm holding your face. He thinks it would be fun to allow you to think he’s off balance. 

You shift all your weight onto him, hoping that in the fall you’ll have enough time to run, to hide, to fight. You could run to your neighbor’s house, the nice little old couple that lives behind you and hide in their garden until you’re safe. You wish you were safe, you wish you were home sooner. Oh fuck, if only you hadn’t waited for so long into the night. 

He grabs your wrist before you’re able to move, bringing you back to him. You force yourself to find strength to move, to be able to turn around and face him. He anticipates this, he spins you around like a dancing couple would. 

He laughs once and you stop.  

You no longer want to look, you can only see the boy who was missing smiling and complimenting you with blood running down his nose, you remember the lingerie he sent when you were still in the village, how your stomach dropped when the mayor knocked at your door. 

Nothing compares to this, to the goosebumps littering your skin when he peers down at you, blue eyes that don’t ever leave your gaze and make you feel like you’re drowning in the sea waters that surround Fontaine. 

“I was waiting for you” he whispers, peppering your face with kisses while you stand there, frozen. It’s similar to the time when he collapsed in front of you, only this time you can’t find the words to scream.

It’s funny how this time he’s found you. Your poor attempt at hiding from him is amusing. 

“Missed you so much” he continues to kiss you, makes his way down to your collarbones and doesn’t hesitate to get on his knees to kiss the softness of your stomach or the tops of your breasts that are exposed to him. 

“Should have locked you up you know? You ran from me, took me forever to find you.”

“Ajax” you whisper, the tears that sting your eyes are threatening to spill. “Why are you here?” 

You hold in a sob, you know why. You’ve always known why he was enamored by you. 

“Does it matter?” he breathes, shifting his position so he is behind you again, kissing the tears off the side of your face, watching how your breathing shifts when his cold hands touch the bare skin exposed to him. 

“Had to pay that Garde off really well. He wasn’t cheap, you know?”

Your heart breaks further, the sob you were holding building into your throat. “You’re so worth it though, pretty little thing. Look at how I found you, fuck, you missed me too didn’t you?”

He’s guiding you to your couch, laying you down while he towers over you. You feel nauseous when you feel his hardening cock through his pants, “look at you, look at you!” He laughs again, another bout of tears flowing down your cheeks, hot and heavy. 

He leans down to kiss you, you turn your head but Ajax isn’t opposed to using force to get what he wants, you know this. You’ve always known this. He takes your face into his hands again, squishing your cheeks together like he did before except his gaze is demanding, icy, and bitter. 

“Kiss me back” 

You oblige, letting him press his lips against yours and slipping his tongue into your mouth. You flinch at the roll of his lips, clutching at his shirt when he groans into your mouth. He mistakes this as want, giving you more until you’re consumed by him, his presence, his scent, his touch. 

He breaks away to let you breathe, smiles at the string of spit that connects both of you and how your eyes are hazing, even though he can’t tell if it’s from crying or from how dizzy he’s made you when he kissed you. 

“Let’s celebrate” He’s off of you before you can register what he said, grabbing a bottle of one of Mondstat’s best wines. He’s unceremonious, rogue even, when he pops the cork off and takes a drink straight from the bottle before dipping back down to kiss you.

He didn’t swallow much to your surprise, he let the wine pass from his mouth to yours. Pulling away to watch your face scrunch up at the taste, “s’good” he slurs, taking another drink and swallowing this time.

“Here.” He’s pulling you to sit up, he’s so fast it’s hard to follow what he’s thinking, what he’s doing. He’s taking another drink again, it’s smaller this time, more like a sip that he thinks is adequate for you. 

He doesn’t let you pull back, his hand is on the nape of your neck making sure you can’t escape his intensity. You try to keep up, letting his tongue enter your mouth and swirl with his. It’s so sloppy, so hot, and sticky that it makes your head spin. He only gives you a break to drink more wine, to make you both drink more. 

He keeps giving you more and more, loves when you get weaker and you don’t protest as much anymore. When you whine and start anticipating the alcohol from his mouth to yours, it makes the taste more bearable and your thoughts aren’t as loud in your head. 

The wine keeps spilling from the corners of your mouth, leaving a little trail of purple-red for him to lick up to. He’s sucking at the skin of your neck, finding your pulse point so easily. His teeth nip at your skin, you don’t mean to lean into him, the alcohol is making you slow to react. He swears he hears a small moan escape your lips when he nips at the sensitive skin again. 

His hand slides down your chest, feeling your tits through the fabric of your bra, it’s still wet. 

“Ajax” you slur, “wanna wait” you say. He looks at you, he notices the tears again. You feel them spill, you’re cold. You cling onto him because at least he’s offering you that sliver of comfort. 

“Wait?” He repeats, licking a tear off of your cheek. 

“Why would I wait when I know you want me too?” He whispers in your ear, his hands unclasping your bra in one go. His touch is cold, similar to how it feels when you first go into the sea. Your body has to get use to it, it starts to warm up and you feel like you could swim and float for hours. 

It’s the same with his touch, the cool tips of his fingers warm up the more he squeezes. He likes the sound you make when he pinches at your nipples, he takes one into his mouth, sucking and licking. Groaning when he hears the little whimpers you try to hold back. 

He makes his way back up to your lips again, grabs your hands that are clutching at his sides to guide them down to palm the shape of his cock through his pants. 

He’s dreamt of this for so long. 

“Oh fuck” he pants, his breath hitting your lips before he’s kissing you again, his tongue feels like he’s lapping into your mouth getting as sloppy as possible as if you’re going to vanish again. His tongue rolls over yours until he’s aching, cock throbbing for attention. 

“Hey, feel me here.” He pants, eyes red rimmed and the blue of his irises brighter. You feel like you could drown in them. 

He takes your hand and holds it in his, tossing his vision on your table. He’s undoing his belt & pulling his pants down enough for his cock to spring free. 

He wraps your hand around the base, guides you in how fast and how much pressure to place around him, when he lets go of your hand you can feel him looking at you. You’re focused on the length of him, how heavy and hot he feels against your hand. 

You feel like crying again. You oblige him because at least he’ll leave you alone sooner, you’re just another thing for him to win over, to declare victory before he gets bored with you and moves on to this next challenge. 

“More fuck, please more” he pants, hips stuttering into your hand. You can feel the sticky, hot precum that coats the tip of his dick and now your hand. You look up at him and see that he’s got his head tipped back, moaning about how hot you are, how good you are, how he’s thought about this since you saved him. Since you found him, how he’s been in love with you since he found you looking out into the horizon. Even before, he’s been in love with you since the beginning, since he saw you. 

“You owe me this.” he breathes.

“What?” 

He laughs again, the same one that haunts you. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t know. I had you watched wherever you went, I made sure your siblings got into the school they wanted, fuck I even followed you here.” 

He takes your hand in his, knows that your hand is coated in his pre cum, takes one of your fingers and licks it up the length. His eyes ever leave yours as he does. 

“You should thank me.” He deadpans, cock still throbbing and hard when he stands up at full height. 

“Thank me.” He repeats the length of his dick is on your face, rutting against your cheek until the tip meets your lips. 

“Yeah, that's how you should do it.” He smiles, the one that meets his eyes. The genuine one. 

He’s holding on to the back of your head before you can move. He doesn’t care if your hair is messy, it's almost dry now. He takes your hand again, planting it onto his thigh for leverage. 

His grip returns to the base of his cock, tapping the tip on your lips again. 

You don’t open your mouth, new tears building up in your waterline. He shows no remorse for what he’s doing, no concern, he thinks he deserves this. It’s the least he deserves for what he’s done for you. 

He pinches your nose, catching you when you part your lips to shove his length into your mouth. 

You cry, struggling to breathe at the pace he starts at. 

“Woulda been so gentle to you if you would have been good, fuck.”

He seethes, eyes rolling into the back of his head when both of his hands are holding your head to match his hips. Your nails are digging into his thighs, your strength unmatched for how you try to push yourself off of him as he pulls you forward on his length. He can’t handle the hot, wet, tightness of the back of your throat. 

“Fuck yes, more, more, more” he chants, pinching your nose again to see you panic when you look up again, he loves you like this. When your chin is covered in spit and tears and his balls hit you with every rut of his hips. 

“God, gonna paint your fucking face, slut. Gonna cover you in my cum so you can never forget who you belong to” 

You can feel that he’s getting close, he grants you grace for only one second before he’s holding your jaw in his hand again. 

You take in gulps of air, coughing, and crying while he forces you to look at him. 

“Don’t run from me again.” He seethes, forcing you back down on his length. 

He’s ruthless this time, uncaring for the way your eyes can’t focus, or how you look like you’re going to pass out. You’re vision keeps going in and out, you can hear yourself. How you choke and gag around his length how he curses with each “ack. ack. ack” of his dick hitting the back of your throat. 

“Gonna cum—shit”

He pulls you off, using one of his hands to keep you in place while he jacks himself off with the other. 

“Say it, say who you belong to.” 

You can’t understand, hazy vision threatening to go black. 

“Fuck, say it and I’ll cum. I’ll cover your fucking face and never leave you. You understand? You’re mine. “

You don’t know what he’s rambling on about. You want to plead with him, talk this out and let him know he could pursue someone else. 

“Ajax” you rasp. 

“Yeah? You belong to me don’t you? Oh fuck—“ 

He groans, doesn’t hold his voice back, calling you all sorts of names but mostly that you’re his, his, his. 

His cum on your face should be enough to prove it. He looks at you like a masterpiece, taking his finger and dragging it through his cum and putting it into his mouth before kissing you. 

“Don’t let anyone else see you like this.” 

#tartaglia smut #childe smut #ajax smut #genshin impact smut #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin ajax #genshin scenarios #childe x reader #childe x you #childe x y/n #childe scenarios #childe drabbles #yandere childe #cw dubcon #cw yandere #cw stalking #cw degradation

[arsonlookers]

✧ MS. THERAPIST Yandere Childe! Idea ✧

slight suggestive please be warned.

Yandere Childe! who becomes obsessed in love with you because you are his therapist.

Yandere Childe! got sentenced to jail for the same actions of being a total creep and a yandere. sentenced for murder, stalking, attempting kidnapping, assault, stealing, and many more gruesome acts he did.

Yandere Childe! who was very stubborn and murderous after going to jail. yelling that he needs to protect Lumine [the victim of his Yandere acts] and lumine not even planning to time visiting him in jail [i mean who would?]

Yandere Childe! who stops eating and taking care of himself being dishearten by not seeing lumine for the past month and starts starving since then. losing the reasoning to keep living.

Yandere Childe! who meets reader [you] in his 2nd week of staying becomes his personal therapist since then.

Yandere Childe! tried to kill you because he dont want to see anybody except lumine.

Yandere Childe! Who nearly did murder you if not for your fast instinct and taekwondo training you got as a child, and knock him off the ground he was not able to get back up again.

Yandere Childe! becomes more interested in you after that incident keeps apologizing about what happened before and keeps asking you to fight him. To strangle him with your thigh again.

Yandere Childe! who keeps dreaming about the incident and just wants to be in that position again. in between your plush thigh. starts to be more and more interested in your life for some reason

Yandere Childe! who keeps checking you out every time you are there or its therapy session.

Yandere Childe! Who keeps asking you if you have a boyfriend or husband, if you do what they look like, what are their names, The more he is around you the more his questions become personal and creepy.

Yandere Childe! who for some reason starts to become healthy again, and starts to work out inside his jail. starts to show off his hard work abs and all, for some reason starts to become more and more touchy and just keeps asking you to be inside in a room again promising to not hurt you ever again.

Yandere Childe! who now shamelessly dirty talks to you and keeps talking about everything like I mean every thing in his life and how he was obsessed and why he did all of it.

Yandere Childe! who opens up everything where he hides the bodies how he disposes of them, his past trauma, how he got kidnapped, how he stalks and keeps a altar for lumine, E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

suggestive warning ahead!!!

Yandere Childe! who shamelessly starts thinking about you in sensual ways, like how he likes to feel your mouth and all around his body. and absolutely in his mouth.

yandere Childe! shamelessly masturbates in front of you or in his cell. like "ahhh~ uggg~ I ~ keep talking!- AHhhh~~mmmm~ your so cute~~ " behind his cell, he is doing all those unholy things

Yandere Childe! keeps asking you to either strip, about your underwear, join him, shamelessly dirty talks while he is pumping his member keeps his eyes on your body and never looks anywhere. just in you and in your eyes, he just keeps talking about "I want to fck you~ mminside that hole~ AHHHhhhh~mmmm~ look at me darling~ look at how you made me feel~ you are making me feel so~ so~ goooood~~ my cute~ sexy! therapist~~ "

Yandere Childe! Who knows that You can't just leave him and ask other therapists to be his doctor because he tells you how he will kill them even behind these bars. if he knows that you actually wanted to leave him [ oh honey he will kill even if it meant to also be the reason of his death]

Yandere Childe! begging for you to just stay with him, "I will be your good boy~ pleaseee~ agggh ~ ummpphh~ " while keeping his hands on his member

Yandere Childe! If you will truly leave him he will find ways to break out of these prison cells. and will search for you even if it means to go travel around the world to search for you.

Yandere Childe! who is rich by the way like he truly has the money. and actually bribes some of the guards in the prison without you knowing. just to keep an eye on you of course .

Yandere Childe! Who actually starts to call you pet names shamelessly like "darling" "baby" "slut" "savior" and many more all these other pet names of his are getting worst by the day.

Yandere Childe! who enjoys how you also slowly start to enjoy his company even if some of it is just absurb and questionable. He also enjoys how he somehow did get you to talk about your past a little bit.

Yandere Childe! who is in prison but actually got some information about you from the outside. he will not tell you that of course.

Yandere Childe! who now found an interesting and lovely woman to obsessed with, to love, to keep him forever and ever may she like it or not. Yandere Childe! who promises you that you will be stuck with him forever. Yandere Childe! who now found another will to live this life of his, found his true purpose, he who accepts that everything that is happening now is FATE that you two are FATED to be together.

Yandere Childe! who behind the cells can still do anything to his power to have you, to control you, to make you stay, to make you love him, your oh so LOVELY PATIENT.

"ms. therapist ~ I need your assistance!~ I feel so lonely would you care to join hmm~ to help me feel better~ help this lonely patient of yours~"

Yandere Childe! will love you forever .,.and actually has a shrine for you outside this prison in his house so yeahhh. hahahaha.

YANDERE CHILDE! who is MADLY in love with you .

so please take care of this sick patient of yours ok? ms. therapist~

✧ahhhh!! my first Yandere writing I never imagined I would write it I'm not really that confident about this one I'm trying something new other than angst so yeahh thank u for reading just a random idea really if there are any grammar mistakes sorry about it. it might be quite messy but I just want to share and had this idea of being his therapist and will be forever stuck being his therapist for life. hehe anyways bye~ - ars onlookers

"ART IS NOT MINE" -from pinterest

♡♡Reblogs and likes are much appreciated!!♡♡

#yandere childe #fem reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #childe x reader #genshin impact imagines #concepts #story idea #yandere boyfriend #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere #yandere male #x reader #yandere idea #therapist reader #yandere tartaglia #yandere thoughts #yandere ajax #yandere x reader #suggestive #nswf post #slight suggestive

[yannights]

Hi there, I was wondering for Yandere Genshin men, what pet names would they use for their darlings?

Ooh excellent question my friend, my personal answer is right here ↓

I can envision Diluc affectionately referring to you as "Angel," drawing a connection to the Angels Share, his tavern. Given his gentlemanly demeanor, he'd likely use "Darling" as a classic pet name.

Childe, on the other hand, would have a variety of endearing terms, with "Princess" being one of his favourites, reflecting his view of his lover as someone deserving of royal treatment. He'd also use "Angel" but might playfully tease you with "Angel face" to evoke your adorable reactions.

Alhaitham's endearing terms are as complex as his personality, but among them, "darling" and "love" seem to be the ones he gravitates towards most frequently.

Kaeya, with his playful and mischievous nature, would undoubtedly bestow upon his beloved the nickname "kitten" and "sweet cheeks".It's a term that captures both his admiration for your grace and agility, as well as his penchant for teasing and playful banter.

In all honesty I think Wriothesley could use anything since he is not fussed, but with his sophisticated charm and refined mannerisms, would choose to address his beloved with endearments like "babe" and "sweetheart" to evoke a sense of comfort and closeness.

Zhongli and Neuvillette, embodying elegance and grace, prefer to express their love with classic endearments like "love" and "my love" and even "beloved".

Hope that answers it~~~

#genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere imagines #wriothesley #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #yandere ajax #yandere childe x reader #yandere alhaitham #yandere neuvillette #yandere kaeya #yandere zhongli #yandere genshin x reader #pet names #yandere diluc

[wishluc]

Courtship

CW: Yandere character, obsession, power imbalance, implied murder, implied stalking

PAIRING: Yandere! Childe x GN! Reader

Childe, who is desperate to earn your affection, but is unsure of how to go about it. He's fought for all the things he loves; his family, his nation, his name—yet when he raises his weapon against a bumbling fool that dared to glance at you for a moment too long, you frown and his moniker falls from your lips as a harsh, curt order.

"Master Childe," your voice is as cold as your inconsideration to his intentions, but he steps back at once, as though your utterance of his title is akin to a harsh tug on a tightly clamped leash.

He earns a familiar look of displeasure when he reaches out for his dagger, and you hide your scowl with a stiff smile when interrupting his threats against his helpless victim. You swiftly enter his line of sight and render him unable to defy, and he wonders just when you'd realize why he was doing this.

But in the next moment, he's all over you again. Smiling, teasing, his arm around you as he continues his previous story about Teucer's latest interests without missing a beat. You don't pretend to humor him for a moment longer—all under a ridiculous pretence of what you call professionalism—and he's left alone, humiliated yet entirely concerned that you'd never spare a glance his way again.

Though your rejection stings, he's persistent, and the unassuming smile on his face does not falter. He continues to try and entice you with sweet whispers and cloying words, letting his hands linger on your waist as he tells you about how much he misses you. He leans in closer when you smile back—the gesture barely perceptible to anyone else, but Childe is extremely observant— only to be stopped by your hand atop his.

"It's getting late, Master Childe. I should be heading back now," and your smile grows, radiant against the aureate light.

"Dinner first, then?"

"I prefer to spend the evenings alone."

"Let me accompany you home, at least." Your lips press into a thin line before you nod, letting him lead the way. There was no point in pretending to be unaware of how much he already knew about you.

Your conversation has onlookers whispering amongst themselves, no doubt curious to catch a glimpse of the infamous Fatuus, before scurrying off as he turns, frantically avoiding his gaze. To anyone else, the scene must have appeared to be humiliating. Perhaps they expected him to lose his temper; to strike down an unsuspecting passerby or two in an attempt at unloading some of his growing frustration. To make an example. But he does none of that.

He's no saint, of course. Disappointment swells within him, and he has had to bite back a frown more than once during your meeting. He's only better at hiding it than you. Your upfrontness leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but it's still part of the reason he finds you so fascinating. Maybe you already know this. But you're a clever thing, despite how foolish it may be to try and provoke him. You know when to stop—right before he's completely sick of your disrespect, just as his frustration begins to peak—and reel in the demeanor to something less jarring. You're wholly aware of how cruel he can be, but also of how much power you hold over him as a result of his twisted love.

As he walks on in front of you (never too far ahead, lest the leash begin to slip from your grip), mouth set in a straight line and arms stiff by his sides, you saunter up beside him and fall into step. His hand finds its place in yours, and you take it without voicing out any complaint. It's strange for someone like him, who only knows how to want like he fights, intense and uninhibited—to be satisfied with just this simple gesture. But he stands here, placated with nothing more than a touch.

He ignores any hesitation on your part, tugging you closer until you jolt against him, and your joined hands are pressed in between your figures. He keeps you close to his side, occasionally bumping into each other as you make your way home.

It would be nice if you were so sensible more often. He has offered time and time again to take care of things in your stead. He'd eagerly bring you the head of your enemies and let you wash the blood off his hands, he'd spoil you in luxury and take only a smile in thanks; if only you wanted. Instead, you turn your nose up at him and return to the monotony of work. You brazenly claim, with nothing more than a sideway glance, that you had no need for his help. And to a certain extent, it's true. You're extremely capable. Is the way he trails after you not proof enough?

He's tried to convince you, but limp fingers cleanly removed and blood-red pearls earn him nothing more than a sigh and a mutter about impracticality. Even your initial fear at the sight of something so gruesome is quickly straightened out, though he catches wind about you investigating who they belonged to. He eagerly observes how you stop frequenting the markets after that. He may not have earned your gratitude, but you had developed a wariness he was more than happy with.

It's the last he attempts at gifting you something so morbid—though he likes to remind you that the offer will always be open—and instead sticks to trinkets you may find more use for. Rouge that he insists on applying, pressed up too close all while crooning about how well it suits you, perfumed oil he massages onto your wrists and nape with calloused fingers and delicate glass bowls to hold it all. He finds pride in knowing all his training has made his hands steady enough to carry out such intricate tasks, but your heart hasn't wavered despite his efforts and displays.

The silence, in itself, is comforting. For all he wishes to have you alone, he never knows what to say after. He thinks of nothing as much as he does you these days. Everything revolves around you. But with the quiet atmosphere, he can focus on your subtle scent, the flutter of your lashes, and the shape of your nails. If you were to be speaking, trying to remember the lilt of your voice and the underlying timbre, apart from your words and gestures, would have overwhelmed him. His desire to commit every detail to memory combined with his overzealousness would have exhausted him very quickly.

Instead, he lets himself plan. How else could he draw out more time with you? He could conjure up some reason related to your work and his, or he could stick to his usual plan of 'happening' to be around. He could insist on buying you a meal to make up for something or the other. It wouldn't be the first time he's had to think of elaborate plots to inch closer to you. Strategy in both love and war were surprisingly similar.

Or he could stop thinking so much and just take you. Who would dare try and stop him?

He'd like to have you in his arms, properly, and hold you against his firm figure. Some part of him has always craved the domesticity of such a fantasy, where you might tuck your head under his chin and smile against his skin when he greets you after a long day at work. He could do it if he wanted; take you home, and make you play pretend until it was all you knew to do. Simple signs of affection of the sort might soothe the ache of the wound festering at his side ever since he was handed over to the Fatui. But he wanted more than he deserved. More than your foolish games and his moribund attempts at playing along.

He wanted—needed—sincerity on your part.

Your steps hasten the closer he gets to your lodging, the gap between you widening until only your conjoined hands bridge it. Were you acting without regard for the consequences because you naively believed this little corner was free from his influence?

But tonight, his heart twists as you walk away. How cruel you are to him; who can only yearn.

You peek over your shoulder, mouth set in the slightest downturn as you thank him for escorting you. There's nothing genuine behind your tone, and he pretends it doesn't sting. He's spared nothing more than a blunt goodbye before you enter the building, not even glancing back.

There's always tomorrow. He'd work harder, learn more about your likes and one day...things would change.

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