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unearthly-doting · 24 days

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finding their soulmate: genshin edition.

a/n: i haven't made a post here in a hot second and i honestly apologize about that lol. the motivation to write just hasn't been there but!! here's a small lil genshin post for now. i just spun a wheel to pick who i write but if u want me to write for some of the others then just lmk!!

includes: xiao, kaeya, kujou sara, albedo, tartaglia, and ayato.

warnings: mdni, yandere content, not edited, gn reader, kidnapping, forced relationships, arranged marriage, manipulation, reader injury in both kujou sara's, albedo's and tartaglia's parts, childe stabs you :peace sign:, canon is a very vague concept in my writing more often than not btw, this is kinda cringey </3, the yandere content in albedo's part is actually very mild bc i was restraining myself bc there was a lot i wanted to do w it.

XIAO — never really cared much about finding his soulmate. His entire existence was dedicated to protecting Liyue, even if the nation no longer needed his protection. Besides, with how long he's been around, he just assumed his soulmate was long dead and that he'd never meet them. Though, a small part of him wondered... what was his soulmate like?

And, almost as if the universe had been listening, he ends up meeting you. His soulmate. It wasn't a classic, romantic meeting. He didn't save your life or anything like that. You were just a traveler who decided to stay at the inn.

He didn't think much of you until his eyes met yours and suddenly color was flooding into his world. It made him dizzy, and it stunned him into absolute silence because all he could so was stare at you with wide eyes.

You were clearly going through it as well, because obviously. You just met your fucking soulmate on a damn business trip. What the hell were you supposed to do now? It would be awkward to just... ignore what had happened, right? I mean, he's staring right at you and this was all just very overwhelming.

It was an awkward first meeting, that's for sure.

But during your time at the inn, whenever you were free from work, you spent it with Xiao. He was closed off, clearly keeping his guard up and not letting you get too close. You didn't know the reasons, but you didn't expect him to tell you his entire life story just because you two were apparently bound by the universe.

Honestly, you just assumed he didn't want to be with his soulmate. This didn't upset you. It wouldn't work out, anyway. You're only staying for a few weeks before heading home.

But archons, did Xiao want you. Behind his typical, distant behavior, Xiao was taking note of everything about you. Your interests, your habits, your sleep schedule, your favorite foods and desserts... everything you told him or subconsciously revealed, Xiao was tucking it away in his mind.

He wanted you. He wanted you to stay here, in Liyue, with him. Where you belong. But he didn't know how to express that. He's never been in love before, and it's not like he'll just suddenly become an expert at romance after meeting you.

When it was time for you to leave, he was crushed. He needed you to stay. He needed you by his side. Letters wouldn't be enough to fill the emptiness in your wake if you left. You had to stay.

You will stay.

And when you wake up to find yourself no longer in the inn, and instead in some small home deep within the mountains of Liyue, you're distraught.

Xiao looks genuinely guilty, robbing you of your freedom but... you understand, don't you? You have to understand. He just couldn't let you go. You're his soulmate, you were destined to be with him! You'll love it here, he'll make sure of it.

Just stay.

KAEYA — had always wondered what his soulmate was like ever since he was a child. He would spend hours just staring at the small crescent moon forever stained on his wrist, wondering if and when he'll meet the person with a matching mark.

Of course, as he got older he spent less time thinking about such things, though he did always hold out hope that he might be able to one day meet his soulmate. Little did he know, he's met his soulmate already. Multiple times.

You took over Sara's shifts at the Good Hunter whenever she had other things she needed to focus on, so Kaeya has spoken with you on numerous occasions, he's just never realized you were his soulmate because you keep your wrists covered. He's not one to judge, his wrists aren't visible either.

Him finding out was an accident. You had been handing him his order when your sleeves rolled up a bit, and his gaze just so happened to look at your wrists and he saw the very same crescent moon that was on his.

And for a moment, he froze. He just stared. Long enough that you were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. But before you could awkwardly send him on his way, he was showing you the crescent moon on his wrist as well and thus began your love story.

Or... well... it's what Kaeya had hoped for, but you didn't seem interested in soulmates at all. You didn't want the universe to decide who you were meant to be with, you wanted to make that decision yourself, so you had, to put it simply, bluntly rejected him.

And he gets it! It hurts, sure. He spent his entire life dreaming of this day, and it's not turning out the way he had hoped, but... you guys can be friends, at least, right? No strings attached?

For a while, Kaeya was fine with that. You and he had a really strong friendship. He cared about you, and you cared about him. Though your feelings were platonic, he was holding on to the hope that maybe one day, you'll realize you two were meant to be together.

But it was starting to seem as though that day might never come, because almost a year into your friendship with him, you had told Kaeya that you were thinking about entering the dating scene. He was... not too pleased about that, honestly. It was pretty obvious too, the way his entire mood soured the moment you brought the topic up.

He didn't stand by idly while this happened. Any person he saw you chatting up with romantic intentions would suddenly avoid you like the plague the next time you saw them. Any blind dates would end with you being ghosted. Hell, even some of your friends, the ones who were helping you get dates, were starting to avoid you too. It was so confusing.

But not Kaeya. No, Kaeya was always by your side.

Whenever you needed him, he was there. He always seemed to be able to make time for you. He listened to you vent your frustrations out, never once judging you or telling you that you were being dramatic. He was the only constant in your life these days.

Of course, you were completely oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of all of this. It's not that hard to blackmail people, he's learned. But they didn't deserve you anyway, seeing how easily they gave up on you the moment he approached them.

Maybe... maybe dating Kaeya wouldn't be so bad... I mean, you're the one deciding this, right? The universe isn't having any play in it. This is your decision. Isn't it?

KUJOU SARA — never cared about her soulmate. She knew she had one, you were in every dream she had. She found it to be more of a nuisance than anything else.

Her entire life was dedicated to her training, and to the Raiden Shogun. She neither had the time, nor the interest in searching for her soulmate. Besides, it didn't seem as if you resided in Inazuma. Your clothing was similar what people in Fontaine wear, and Fontaine was far away from Inazuma.

She was confident that she wouldn't be meeting you any time soon, so she never gave you any thought when she was awake. She never made any plans on what she would do if she did, by any chance, meet you. It didn't matter.

And she can't help but regret that, now that you're standing in front of her. If she had known that meeting her soulmate would make her feel like this, as if everything in the world suddenly made sense, then... well... she doesn't know what she would've done, to be honest.

No matter, Sara had no time to entertain you. Your stay in Inazuma was only temporary, so she saw no point in trying to form a bond with you. You, however, seemed to have different plans. She was used to seeing you in her dreams every night, but she was not used to seeing you in her waking moments.

Whenever she wasn't preoccupied with something, you were there to offer her company. It was annoying, and she's sent you away more than once, but that didn't seem to deter you. If anything, you seemed to become more determined each time she brushed you off.

At some point, she had given up on avoiding you. It was easier to just let you stick around. And, the more time she spent with you, the more attached she was becoming. It wasn't smart, she knew that, but could you blame her? You're so... irrevocably you.

Her fondness for you didn't go unnoticed.

Many people in Inazuma treated you with the same respect they treated Sara. You were her soulmate, after all. Should someone insult you, they would in turn be insulting her. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side.

There were, however, a few bad apples.

It should come as no surprise that a target was placed on your back the moment people took notice of Sara's attachment to you. She didn't think she'd have to worry much, because no one would be idiotic enough to actually try and harm you under her watch, but she should've known better.

It happened a few days before you were set to leave Inazuma to return home. A disturbance was going on within the city so Sara wasn't with you when you went on your daily walk just outside of it. It was supposed to be safe, but it wasn't.

Some vagrants had got the jump on you, and you nearly lost your life. You were lucky enough to have been found by some bystanders, but Sara was less than pleased when she heard about this. She had never taken pleasure in killing anyone before, but there was a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction deep within her chest when she watched the lives of those who hurt you fade away.

And as she sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up, she came to a decision. You can't be alone. If you are, you'll get hurt, and she won't be able to protect you. She can't let you leave Inazuma. She knows you'll more than likely hate her for making this decision for you, but if it means she can keep you safe, keep you alive and by her side, then... that hatred is something she'll be willing to bear.

ALBEDO — doesn't have a soulmate. At least, he's not supposed to. He's an artificial being, so it wouldn't make sense for him to have a soulmate. Of course, he does find the concept of soulmates to be intriguing. Who, or what, decides who people are destined to be with? It's a question he hopes to find an answer to.

So he wasn't surprised when he found you passed out in the snow, deep within Dragonspine. He's seen this countless times before, travelers who don't take precautions before trying to brave the deadly cold that comes with being here. He assumed he would just nurse you back to health and you would go on your merry way.

That changed, however, when he was cleaning your wounds and he saw his name inked on your skin, right on your collarbone. In his handwriting, at that. It confused him, because... that would mean that he's your soulmate. But he can't be. And yet, it didn't come off when he tried wiping it off. It was a part of your skin.

This left him with many questions, though none of them got answered when you woke up. You couldn't remember much about yourself, other than your name and a few other details. You didn't even know why you were in Dragonspine, or where you were from. You did hit your head pretty badly, judging from the headwound, so that would explain the amnesia, though he's not sure if it was going to be something temporary or not.

You both decided it would be best to just have you stay here until you were able to recover some of your memories and although Albedo wasn't eager to make friends with you, he was grateful for the company. He was incredibly patient with you too, answering any questions you may have had ranging from a multitude of different topics.

And in return, you helped out as much as you could without overexerting yourself and making your injuries worse. You'd make sure to keep his little lab tidy when he was away. You'd help out with some of his experiments too, if he knew you wouldn't get hurt doing so.

All while trying to figure out how he could possibly be your soulmate. He checked over himself. Four times. Your name was nowhere on his body. So why? Why was his name on yours? As much as he hates to admit it, he thinks he may never get an answer to this mystery.

Though... that's not such a bad thing, he thinks. He finds himself enjoying your company more and more with each passing day, the whole soulmate thing rarely even crossed his mind. At least, until you had asked him why his name was permanently etched into your skin. It was fairly easy to explain everything to you, though he was unable to answer a few of your questions, sadly. Soulmates were still a mystery, after all.

And when you asked if you could write your name on him so you two could match, he found himself unable to say no. He found himself unable to speak at all, actually, as you wrote your name on his shoulder. You even added a little heart next to it.

But no, Albedo was too busy coming to terms with the feelings he has for you. They weren't new. He's been aware of them for a week or so now, he just never gave it much thought until now. Now, with you so close to him, it was simply impossible to ignore.

And once you pull away, you smile at him and say, "There! Now I'm your soulmate too, right?" And oh.

Oh.

There was no way Albedo was going to let you leave Dragonspine now.

TARTAGLIA — feels a little bad for his soulmate, whoever they are. They can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs. So... they probably hate his guts, considering he's not the most careful person in the world. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, and his soulmate has no doubt felt every single second of it.

Don't get him wrong, he would love to meet his soulmate. It's been a dream of his since he was a child, always eager to hear the story of how his mom and dad found out they were soulmates. Even as he grew older, the desire never went away. It was just... buried.

And his soulmate just so happened to be you, the significant other of a man who owed the Northland Bank a lot of money. He doesn't normally partake in debt collections, but he didn't have anything better to do so he decided to take this one on. He was going to use you as an example to your husband, though the moment his blade stabbed you, he froze.

He felt the pain. He stabbed you, and he could feel it. Oh fuck, he just stabbed his soulmate. That's definitely not the picturesque first meeting he was hoping for. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell his family this either...

Stabbing aside, he was utterly delighted. You, on the other hand, were terrified. Not only did this man just fucking stab you, his expression went from bored to something akin to crazed glee. He stared at you with a hunger that made you want to shy away from his gaze.

He doesn't care that you're already in a relationship with someone else. Not anymore, you're not. You're his, destined by the stars or however the story goes. And if your lover tries to get you back, he'll just kill them. Easy as that. Absolutely nothing will get in the way of him having you.

And he likes that you fight back against him. He especially loves it when you manage to escape. Hell, sometimes he'll even let you go just so he can chase you down again. It sends a thrill through him like no other when he catches you, and you stare at him teary-eyed and out of breath.

You're always so scared that he'll hurt you, but he would never do such a thing. He treats you like you're royalty, spoiling you with a seemingly endless amount of gifts. You're not quite sure how he knows what you like, and you're too hesitant to ask.

Honestly... he'd probably let you stab him. Y'know, he stabbed you, so it's only fair that you get to stab him in turn, right?

You think not. You're very hesitant, staring at him as though he were insane for even proposing such an idea. A part of him was disappointed. He wanted one of the many scars on his body to be from you. But a much larger part can't help but go soft at the sight of you shaking your head, sternly refusing to hurt him.

If he wasn't obsessed with you before, he certainly was now. You're too good. Too kind. He's holding you captive (lovingly, of course) and you refuse to hurt him? You don't even want to pinch him? How adorable.

Why, if he didn't know any better, he'd think that you might care about him.

He was nothing if not stubborn, of course. You might not care about him now, but you will in the future. He'll make sure of it.

After all, he's spent his whole life waiting for you.

AYATO — never had the time to think of his soulmate. He was blessed (or cursed, depending on who you ask) with the ability to see the red strings that tied people together. When he was younger, before having to take on the duties of the Kamisato name, he would always stare at the one tied to his pinkie.

He even has the habit of twirling the red string around his finger whenever he gets stressed. Only behind closed doors, of course. It would probably appear strange to others if they saw.

Meeting his soulmate was something he had always planned out in his head as a child, and when he finally did meet you, it was so... simple. There was nothing magical about it, you had just bumped into him one day when he was out in the city and that's what started all of this.

For you, it was a forgettable encounter, one that would never cross your mind again. For him, it was everything he had been waiting for. Thoma thought it was a bit strange, but he dutifully gathered information about you when Ayato asked it of him. He needed to know everything there was to know about you.

He already knew what he was going to do when he met his soulmate, the only thing left was to actually do it. And you were definitely shocked when Kamisato Ayato himself showed up at your home and asked you to marry him.

You said no, obviously, because why the hell would you agree to marry someone you didn't know? Ayato had planned for this, of course. That's why he had Thoma learn everything about you, so the moment you declined his offer, he just smiled and made a comment about your family. It was very obvious what he was implying.

And even if you aren't close with your family, you can't live with blood on your hands. You were pretty much forced into accepting Ayato's marriage proposal. He was pleased with this outcome, promising to take care of everything himself.

Marrying him meant that you would, unfortunately, have to leave your home and instead live at the Kamisato Estate. Everyone was under the impression that this marriage was one of love and not coercion. You highly doubt that anyone would believe you if you told them the truth, and you were too concerned about what the consequences would be if you did.

Everyone at the estate was nice to you, at least, though the only people allowed to actually get close to you were Ayaka and Thoma.

And when the wedding was over, it was time for your honeymoon. You were not excited about that, but it seemed Celestia itself was on your side during that time because he was too busy to spend time with you.

If he wasn't threatening the lives of your family, you would have made numerous escape attempts by now. Still, you've made it very clear that you hate his guts.

Your hatred is something he detests, though he can't fault you for it. He understands that what he's forced you into is wrong, but in his mind, it was something that had to be done. He's sure that given enough time and space, you'll grow to understand why he did what he did.

And even though you scorn his existence, Ayato looks at you as if you've placed the stars in the sky.

Your strings are forever tied together, so there's no getting out of this. He doesn't plan on ever letting you go. He'd be a terrible husband if he didn't keep you close, wouldn't he?

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mondaymelon · 4 months

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₊⊹ 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 ❤︎ | yandere!xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

art by @/syaden8 on twt!!

⟢ cw: a failed escape attempt from them... yandere, dark themes, petnames, mutilation (xiao, scara), violence, drugging (scara) etc. please proceed with caution! thank you.

⟢ "your order's denial is causing me trial !"

"Ah."

XIAO's lips moved, and it was that single noise that escaped.

For your room lay barren, empty, cold, the harsh winter breeze drafting through the shattered window, the bars covering it having been forcibly bent aside. "It..." For a moment, his body swayed, his own legs unable to support his weight. Then, his balance stabilized, his once by a fraction wider eyes having narrowed. "It seems my songbird has escaped."

Unacceptable. The word repeated in his head, like a mantra, a prayer, resounding within his ears, despite the silence, despite the cold that bit at his skin as he trudged through the snow, his spear at his side. A tiny, devilish voice that tugged on his ears and whispered out tales of his sin.

"Found you."

"N-No- please-" His gaze sharpened in annoyance. Desperate, your voice hoarse and cracking by the syllable, hurling yourself forward one more step, just one more, your bloody, bare feet scraped and bruised. This wasn't right, how come you seemed so distressed?

No, you of course sounded better as his songbird, in a pristine little cage, singing for him, and only him, happy tunes of joy and pleasure.

"...And as a songbird can live with its wings clipped, surely you'll understand if I...?"

The shackles locked tight around your wrists, and your useless, wretched legs, bones shattered by a single blow.

It's an unfortunate predicament, but it's the only way. ❤︎

"Oh, so the chase is on?"

CHILDE shouldn't be laughing, but oh, he was.

It's a twisted sound, with the corners of his mouth distorted upwards in a haphazard smile, his eyes blown as a dark flush of red descended upon his cheeks. "So you've decided to play this little game of cat and mouse. Very well, if that's what you want, darling!"

You aren't making this difficult enough. His keen gaze spots all the traces you've left behind, broken branches, ruffled leaves, a torn piece of the clothing he had gifted you... it's all imbued with your essence, honey sweet on his lips.

Why would you even want to leave him?

It's that thought that makes him pause upon finding you, your trembling form sprawled across the bloodied snow as he stands over you, his own shadow casting you in darkness.

That's right, why would you? He's been nothing but loving. He's catered to your every need, has he not? He's bought this house for you, all the clothes you wear, the food you eat, the bed you sleep in... what right did you have to defy his affections, now that he had made them ever so clear?

If anything, it was insulting.

Oh, but did he truly feel insulted? After all, an offended person wouldn't have taken you like that, wouldn't have knocked you unconscious and wouldn't have carried the delicate you in his arms back to home.

Maybe a better description would be "longing." Longing for your praise, longing for your thanks, longing for the smiles you'd send his way... how come your eyes have faded, since then? It's strange, he's never seen you look so... determined before, not since today.

Ah, but what did it matter?

This puny escape attempt of yours... his tongue tasted bitter.

It wouldn't happen again. He'd make sure of it, so please, don't mind the chains, would you? ❤︎

"They... dare?"

SCARAMOUCHE's expression contorts to one of rage, his brows sharply angled downwards and his violet eyes wide, quivering.

Haha... what a fool he was. He should've been more attentive, how had he not noticed your strange movements? The way you gave him a forced smile everytime he returned home, the way you'd greet him at the door with the dinner you made, and he had finally thought you had accepted his confession all those weeks ago, he finally thought you had gotten used to and started liking your life here, finally thought-

And then he thought nothing at all as his body swayed and fell to the ground. The audacity, to go and dig through his things, to go, find, and use the very drug he had used to bring you home.

By the time he awoke, the house was but a cold expanse, barren of your warmth, and he clenched his fists so tightly, his nails kissed red crescents into his skin that weeped with every flex of his fingers.

"To pull such a parlor trick against me like this... ah, doll. Don't think you'll get away with this leniently."

When he found you, not "if", he'll make sure to reprimand you properly. If breaking your spirit wasn't enough, then he'd have to break your mind too. He's already decided that he'll reshape the pure thing with his own, dirtied hands, into something that will burn only for him.

Surely, a couple missing limbs, here and there, wouldn't obstruct that light, would it now? ❤︎

(a/n) as i said on my sideblog, something about writing for toxic mentally distressed emotionally broken and heavily reliant yandere characters who turn to violence to show their love is. just so. oddly... comforting?? was going to make this longer and then some shitty shit shit went down so. yay. tears.

if you enjoyed please consider following me or leaving a note on this post!! they are very appreciated, and i am very close to hitting a follower goal that i want to reach before the new years ! thank you.

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

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draconic-desire · 2 months

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A Dance With the Dragon III — Opera

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III — You are here]

Neuvillette enjoys bringing you to the Opera Epiclese. You, not so much.

Warnings: Implied past NSFW, typical yandere tendencies and obsessive behavior

You had grown to loathe the opera.

When Neuvillette first suggested it, you had perked up immediately. You ignored his rare smile at your excitement, knowing he believed to use this as a stepping stone to winning you over. You didn’t care; the Chief Justice was delusional if he thought you wouldn’t abuse this opportunity to escape.

Your plan, of course, was a complete failure.

Neuvillette kept a firm, guiding hand on your lower back the entire night. Even the slightest movement on your part would earn you a warning glower. He wasn’t even challenging you to act out; no, he was demanding your compliance. Bastard.

And Archons, the stares you got for it.

You knew that Neuvillette had worked his way up to being a well-respected and renowned figure, but you never expected the fanbase he had acquired. He was barraged by women and men alike, all hoping for a chance to woo, interview, or befriend Fontaine’s Chief Justice. He responded to all of their inquiries with aplomb, though you noticed his grip on your waist tighten every time an individual would glance your way, whether out of curiosity or envy.

Standing off to the side, you swirled the champagne glass clasped in your hand, opting to remove yourself from the conversation. Honestly, you were shocked he had allowed you to indulge in any alcohol with his obsession over your health. Such regulations included eliminating certain foods from your diet (“Why would anyone ever eat food that’s been deep fried?”) and drinking an ungodly amount of water each day, usually with a long conversation about its flavors.

Oh, and the physical activity, too.

With a scowl, you tipped the flute back to imbibe the rest of the champagne. Maybe if you got drunk enough, you’d have some respite from both the spotlight and your memories with him. He already seized every moment of your reality; you didn’t need him plaguing your thoughts, too.

But luck was never on your side these days.

A particularly nosy group of women had been giving you the stink eye all night, until one of them strutted up to your “date”. Despite being multiple paces away, you could hear their entire conversation. She curtsied, batting her long lashes flirtatiously. “Good evening, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am Trudaine, daughter of the Duke of Romaritime Harbor. I’ve been meaning to approach you for some time now, for who could resist such a handsome and powerful man?”

You rolled your eyes and kept chugging as Neuvillette beckoned you towards him. Before he could answer, you reluctantly closed the distance between the two of you, feeling his hand caress your lower back. Trudaine sneered as she looked you up and down. “I must inquire, who is the lady you’ve brought as your accompaniment tonight?”

Neuvillette tipped his head politely. “Greetings, Lady Trudaine. While I appreciate your flattery, I must decline your advancements. You see, Lady (Y/n) here is my wife.”

You choked on your drink.

While Neuvillette rubbed your back in a concerned manner, believing you had simply had too much to drink, Trudaine’s lip curled in disgust. “Her, a Lady?” she barked in disbelief. “Come now, Monseiur. She’s clearly nothing but a commoner, and not even one from Fontaine.”

Neuvillette’s judgmental gaze flicked down to the woman with a dangerous flash. “Lady Trudaine, I suggest you take your leave before I lose my temper.”

The Judicator’s expression must have spooked her, for she quickly shut her mouth and scurried to the safety of her friend group, no doubt to continue the gossip about you.

“My dear, are you alright?”

You waved Neuvillette away, coughing up the last bit of alcohol. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” You placed the empty glass on a nearby table; alcohol had been ruined for you for the rest of the night. “Though I don’t recall accepting your proposal, husband.”

Neuvillette ran a gloved hand through his bangs. “Ah, forgive me. Your human customs sometimes elude me. If it is a ring you seek, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

You gaped at him. “You seriously think I’m upset because you didn’t buy me a damn ring?” You pressed yourself against his chest, jabbing a finger into his robes. Neuvillette sucked in a breath, marveling at the proximity. You were actually touching him. He didn’t care in what context; he could feel your warmth, sense your heartbeat in tandem with his own. It took every ounce of his might not to rip that dress off your form and bury himself inside you.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” you whispered so as not to draw attention, “I am not, and will never be, your wife. I do not, and will never, love you. You may think us a couple, or mates, or that what you feel for me is love, but you have seaweed for brains. You have taken everything from me—my freedom, my career, my family, my vision. You have forced yourself on me and molded me into some hollow version of myself.” You gestured to your attire, all lace and frills to replace your preferred pants, to emphasize your point. “Delude yourself all you want with titles like ‘wife’ and ‘dear’ and ‘mate’, but they are nothing but empty monikers.”

The enamored look on the Justice’s face only served to prove your point. Stretching his cane horizontally behind your back and cupping your chin with the other hand, he trapped you against his form. “All in good time, my darling. Rocks may appear unbreakable, but the sea erodes them all eventually.”

~*~

Then there was the most recent time he had taken you.

Neuvillette’s idea of a ‘compromise’ was to forgo the formalities of chit-chat for simply sitting in your (private balcony) seats until the opera began. This development saved you from the crowd, but at the cost of being alone to fend off his intimate touches. You practically snarled at him when his hand snaked up your thigh.

“Try that again in public and you’ll lose that hand.”

“Later, then.” He muttered the promise as the lights dimmed.

The opera’s plot centered on an ancient monster rescuing a sacrificed maiden. Instead of devouring her, the creature took her into his care, and their love led to the creation of the Melusines. You nearly throttled Neuvillette at the climax, when the maiden denounced the humans who sent her to die in favor of becoming an immortal with the creature. The so called “monster”, then, transformed into a handsome god of the sea.

As the curtains fell and the lights rose, you glimpsed his subtle smile. Standing abruptly from your seat, you moved towards the exit without sparing him another glance. “Don’t even fucking start.”

~*~

This time, however, you found an opportunity to turn the tables.

This time, Neuvillette had permitted you to mingle alone within the crowd in the Opera’s foyer prior to the show. Pointless chatter with the other opera goers was preferable to being alone with him, though you really knew that Neuvillette had agreed as a test of your loyalty. Although it seemed you could roam as you pleased, you knew the Iudex kept one eye on you at all times. A note slipped into a hand or a whisper for help into an ear would be detected immediately.

While you refrained from approaching others, that didn’t mean you could prevent others from approaching you.

Others like the exceptionally handsome individual striding towards you.

His azure irises soaked in your form as he ran a gloved hand through his fiery-toned hair. Once before you, he delivered a playful bow, lips pulled in a smirk. “Ah, and might I ask why a lady as stunning as yourself is standing by herself?”

You lowered the champagne glass from your lips, taking in the man’s appearance. Based on the thick fur coat slung over his shoulders and the single red earring flashing on his left ear, he certainly wasn’t from Fontaine, though he clearly possessed a good deal of wealth nonetheless.

Your eyes shifted towards the hydro vision on his hip. Your hand instinctively went to your neckline, where your own vision would have been. The only reason you hadn’t gone mad from its absence was because it was never truly far from you—that is to say, because Neuvillette was never far. Your heart ached, and somehow the fact that this man shared a hydro vision made you trust him. “And might I inquire as to who’s asking?”

The man offered you a coy smile. “Call me Tartaglia.”

Returning the smile, you sketched a brow cheekily. “That’s quite a unique name. You aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Am I really that easy to pin?” Tartaglia chuckled, blue eyes sparking mischievously. “Seems I’m losing my touch.”

“Not at all. If you ever need someone to get you acquainted with Fontaine, I’d be more than happy to oblige,” you shot back with a wink, your implications clear. Of course there was no world in which Neuvillette would ever let that happen, but you missed how fun it was to flirt—or just to even talk with—someone who wasn’t the Iudex. You’d take your fun when you could.

Tartaglia’s grin only grew at your suggestion. He offered you the second glass of champagne he held. “I noticed you might be needing another one of these, though really I just took whatever excuse I could to talk to you. Are you really here all by yourself?”

Before you could respond, your gaze subconsciously flicked around the room until it landed on the one who had brought you here. And it was then you noticed the Chief Justice glowering at you, his knuckles turning white around the goblet in his fist. The group of officials around him, though they kept prattling on, went completely ignored as his silver glare flicked between you and the mysterious redhead.

Oh, this would be good.

As Neuvillette excused himself from the conversation, your eyes met his own and a wry grin graced your lips. Blame it on the alcohol, but you were feeling bold and invincible. Like you were the one in power for once. Maybe that’s why, before Neuvillette could reach you, you leaned towards Tartaglia and purred, “It’s just you and me.”

Then you tilted your face up and kissed his cheek, the barest hint of your lips brushing against his porcelain skin. And yes, it was petty in every sense of the word, but you reveled in the furious spark of Neuvillette’s lilac irises.

No more than a second later, a shadow loomed over the two of you. Neuvillette stepped between you and Tartaglia, forcing the other man to take a large step backwards. You, on the other hand, were now partially hidden by the Chief Justice’s large frame, his left arm out to hold you behind him. His cane cracked against the floor in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Tartaglia quickly recovered, looking more entertained than anything. “Woah, comrade! We were just having a bit fun! No need to spoil the mood,” he laughed.

Neuvillette’s eyes simply narrowed as he maintained his calm facade. “You will stay away from my wife.”

The redhead tipped his head, trying to get a better look at you past the Iudex. “Didn’t know I was chatting with the Chief Justice’s lady! Any chance I could convince you to share?” He laughed again, flashing sharp teeth.

Neuvillette was far from amused. “You should hope to never cross paths with me in court, Harbinger.”

Wait. Did he just say Harbinger?

You may have been locked away for four hundred years, but you’d still been informed of the Snezhnayan group of Delusion bearers and their influence (whether for better or for worse) across Teyvat in recent years. You barely had time to process that revelation as Neuvillette firmly clasped your wrist and dragged you outside.

Heavy rain had started to fall, battering the Court with its relentless downpour. Both you and Neuvillette were quickly soaked to the bone, and while you were shivering in your light gown, the Iudex whirled on you. “What exactly did you think you were doing?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug, knowing it would twist the knife even further. “What do you mean?”

“With that man,” Neuvillette said, gritting his teeth. His composed, human mask was slowly slipping, and you were in the mood to provoke the dragon beneath.

“What, I’m not allowed to talk to other men? You were the one who said I could mingle tonight.”

Neuvillette’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Talking? You kissed him, (Y/n). In front of your husband.” His tone slipped into a deep growl. “Your mate.”

Anger flaring, you went in for the kill. “Despite what you keep telling yourself, we are not actually married—”

“Silence!”

Thunder rumbled across the court so violently you swore you felt the ground shake. You gasped as the leviathan tattoo on your arm resurfaced, illuminating your face with blue magic. The authority in his voice cascaded down your spine, soaking your entire being as if you had been submerged into the depths of the darkest ocean. But no, it wasn’t just that—the rain had started to fall even harder, accompanied by gusts of wind that threatened to knock you to your knees. You could barely see five feet in front of you, but the visibility didn’t matter, since Neuvillette’s figure was as clear as day.

He was glowing.

The Hydro Dragon’s horns sparked with blue light, and his robes seemed to have expanded to create flowing waves on either side of his form. Tendrils of azure power snaked through the air around him, forming intricate patterns that resembled water droplets spiraling around one another. Blue seeped from the bottom of his cane and formed cracks through the ground that pulsed with raw energy, threatening to unleash the waters below. His irises burned as bright and silver as moonlight on a midnight sea.

Neuvillette might have been the most composed individual in all of Fontaine, but when his anger bubbled over, it was no mere flood—it was a tsunami.

You gaped at his appearance, the closest to his true draconic form you had seen to date. You suddenly felt like provoking him was your worst idea yet, but that wasn’t what scared you the most. “Did you…can you control…?”

“I am no mere water nymph or Melusine,” Neuvillette replied curly, power dripping from his body as smoothly as water. “I am the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. Water of the earth and the skies bows to me. As will you.”

You weren’t sure when you had started shaking. For the first time in a long while, your anger was doused. You looked between your tattoo and his matching glow and realized just how powerless you were without your vision and within this dragon’s clutches.

Despite all his flaws, after all your years together, Neuvillette knew how to read you. He immediately stilled, a look of panic contorting his handsome features. The ethereal glow around him faded, and the rain began to subside into a dull mist.

He wrapped you in his arms, squeezing you with desperate abandon. “My love, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me—please, forgive me.” Another shiver wracked your form, which prompted him to hold you tighter and bury his nose into your hair, exhaling deeply. “I have made a grave transgression by frightening you so dearly, but I pledge to never lose my temper in such a manner again.”

Neuvillette caressed your cheek and tilted your chin up to gaze longingly into your eyes. “You are my entire world, and I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.” He swiftly picked you up bridal style, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Come. I’ll draw you a warm bath with fresh sea salts. I believe we’re done here for tonight.”

Wordlessly, you let him take you home. You can’t argue with a dragon.

#yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #reader insert #yandere #opera epiclese #fontaine #guess who makes a surprise appearance #childe #tartaglia

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flokali · 3 months

Text

♢ 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.”

“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

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kissesforsatoru · 1 year

Note

Haiii! I love your blog so much and I'm not sure if this has been requested or not?? Could I request Childe, Cyno and perhaps Ayato with a darling that quickly develops Stockholm Syndrome? QvQ;

Their darling probably tried to escape once, but only midway stopped herself and the moment she notices them, she runs back and apologies repeatedly? Earlier she was mortified with her situation, but now she fully submit. Their darling probably clings onto them sometimes, giving them a form of affection even if this relationship is extremely harmful.

Maybe their darling would even go as far as to defend//protect them if they're given the opportunity to even talk to others and they suspect things.

I hope this isnt a lot!

𓏲 ˖. pairing. . . cyno x reader, childe x reader

𓏲 ˖. summary. . . darling escapes without realizing they have stockholm syndrome

𓏲 ˖. warnings. . . general yandere themes, stockholm syndrome, punishments, descriptions of injuries (not graphic)

𓏲 ˖. warnings. . . i’m so sorry, but i couldn’t think of a way to do this for ayato so i decided not to include him . i hope that’s okay!

cyno is pissed when he comes home to find you gone, and it takes every ounce of self restraint in him to not flip the fuck out. he breathes slow and heavy as he looks in every possible place you could be, thoroughly making sure that you really aren’t there—and when he comes to the conclusion that you aren’t, he angrily storms out of the house to go look for you. he almost missed you, your frame hidden well behind a crate in front of the house, but he couldn’t have missed the weak cry that left your lips as he stormed by. he was honestly surprised when you tightly grabbed the fabric on his waist, crying as you murmured how sorry you were for trying to escape.

scenario ;

“what the fuck were you thinking?” he practically growled as he bent down to pick you up. you bite your lip and turn away from him, embarrassed by the whole situation, but you still cling to him despite how bad you’re feeling.

“i’m so sorry, please forgive me. i’ll never run away again.” you sob, shoving your face into his chest. cyno doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s angry because of how tightly he’s holding you against him. you’re sure there will be faint bruises where his fingers are later on, but you don’t really mind. you’re just happy to be back with him.

after running away, a group a eremites followed you until they had you cornered. all you could think in the moment was how scared you were, and that you wished cyno was there to protect you, because you knew he would. it made you sick to think about those things—you didn’t want to want him, you didn’t want to depend on him. you were lucky enough that you could run away from the eremites before they could catch you, and subconsciously you found yourself back at cyno’s house. you couldn’t help but cry as you realized the kind of situation your gotten yourself into.

“yeah, you fucking won’t. not after i’m done with you.” your lip quivers at the thought of what he might do to you, but you nestle further into him and try not to think too much about it for now—instead focusing on how warm and comfortable he’s making you feel in his arms.

childe panics when he realizes you’re not in your room anymore, instead probably deep into the snowy woods of snezhnya by now. his first instinct is to massacre all the fatui guards that let you escape, but when he realizes how dangerous it is for you to be out all alone, he quickly abandons the thought for the time being to go find you—and when he does, his heart nearly stops. you’re curled in the snow, breathe shaking and ragged as you shiver uncontrollably from the incessant coldness against your skin. he thought you were dead at first, and you might as well have been. he doesn’t hesitate to take your limp body into his arms, wrapping his fur coat around you tightly before taking you home.

scenario ;

you didn’t expect to wake up surrounded in warmth—really, you didn’t expect to wake up at all. after running away you quickly realized just how bad of an idea it was. you missed the warmth and comfort of childe’s house, as much as you hated to admit it. you desperately wanted to be tucked in his arms again where you were safe from the sharp biting winds and cool pricks of snow—in his arms where you were meant to be.

you did try to go back before he noticed, but you failed to realize just how bad the storm had gotten, and you quickly got lost. it was only so long before you’d collapsed in the snow, wrapping your arms tightly around your shivering body, trying to cling to the last bits of warmth you had left. you could barely feel anything as you passed out, your last thought being how you regretted ever leaving childe’s mansion.

the last thing you’d expected was to wake up wrapped in blankets near a fire, tucked tightly into childe’s side. at best, you thought that childe would’ve thrown you in a cell and kept you there for who knows how long to punish you for running away. but this was an outcome you wouldn’t dare complain about, because this was way better than all the horrible ways you could’ve died or been punished.

you grabbed his thick jacket tightly and nuzzled further into his warm body, the chill from earlier still lingering faintly. biting your lip you mustered up the courage to whisper an apology—one barely audible, but you knew childe heard when he hummed and wrapped another blanket around you.

maybe you’d be punished later, but right now you couldn’t help but enjoy the warmth childe provided you.

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wrixthesley · 8 months

Text

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.”

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yandere-romanticaa · 5 months

Text

My head is empty as it's filled with nothing but Childe and I just want to gush about my man for a little bit, excuse me mindless rambling.

Whenever he would leave for a trip, he would deflate like a balloon, I just know it. But, he has to go, duty calls and all that other boring stuff. No matter the time of day though Childe is always thinking about you, wondering what you're doing, where you are and with who. He's definitely the type of guy who would just start gushing about you to a complete stranger. The stranger is either going to be taken aback by his sheer intensity or perhaps even a little charmed because it's just so rare to see a young man be so in love with someone. He doesn't want anyone else in this world, no one else matters.

On paper, most people would love to have a partner so devoted and loyal.

But most people are also not ready for the sheer fierceness such a relationship would cause.

He would give himself to you 100% but he expects the same treatment back. This is a man who likes direct and honest communication, he does not have the time nor will to waste on meaningless things. If you don't like the gift he brought back, that is okay. Just speak up, he won't get mad. The way in which he senses your uneasiness is maddening, like a shark smelling fresh blood.

And like the predator that he is, Childe always goes for the kill.

He is also more than willing to give you time in order to get used to him and his presence. He tries to soothe you by being there for you in any way he can, be it physically present or sending regular letters, telling you of his adventures and mundane affairs.

He would be very insulted if he found out that you wanted to throw out his letters. You banish the thought from your mind every time it pops up.

The way in which his deep blue eyes shine with adoration is something for the history books. Some Fatui agents who possess artistic talents even go so far to write down your encounters, perhaps even paint them on a fine canvas if they feel brave enough to do so.

The way you handle the situation all depends on you. Do you try to run, the fear of getting lost in the abyss too strong to handle? Or do you stay by his side, finally madly in love with him as he so desperately wants you to be?

Once he makes a promise, it will never be broken. And if you decide to take his hand in your own, you will never know a loveless life ever again.

Are you ready to drown with him?

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Home Intruder.

Continuation of Homebound.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (+Diluc).

Word Count: 3.5k.

TW: Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Violence, A Kid Continues To Be Involved And How Childe Acquired This Kid Continues To Be Dubious, and Descriptions of Abuse.

You first saw Childe three days after you arrived at the Dawn Winery.

Through the window, standing on the edge of the vinery, standing behind a pair of his subordinates as they spoke to a small group of farmhands. From your (temporary, you assured yourself, temporary) bedroom, you could only make out a swath of ginger hair, a collection of silver medals standing against the dull grey of his uniform, the familiar heap of dark fabric thrown over his arm, but you attempted to tell yourself that it wasn’t him, actually, that he’d still be in Mondstadt – wreaking havoc and tearing the city apart in search of you. A foolish thing to think, in hindsight. He knew that you would journey through all of Teyvat to escape him. Walking across a single nation was completely within the realm of possibility.

You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t him, and then, his head jerked upward, his soulless eyes immediately finding your bedroom window, and all of your misplaced hope was immediately dispelled.

He couldn’t see you. You were too far away, the glass was too thick, and you knew he couldn’t see you, and yet, you immediately dropped to the floor, falling onto your knees and slotting yourself against the wall just below your windowsill. Your second reflex hit only a moment later: to run to Lina, to the nursery just down the hall. It wasn’t safe here. You could take her somewhere else – to Fontaine, where even the Fatui were held to the word of the law, or Liyue— No, no, not Liyue, that was his territory, and Sumeru was too untamed, you’d never make it on foot. Inazuma might offer haven, if you could find a vessel willing to—

You heard the door to your bedroom creak open, and your scattered thoughts were silenced by a bolt of pure, unbridled adrenaline. Without giving yourself time to think, you lashed out wildly, spending a dagger of ice flying toward the invader. A dagger of ice that was, predictably, turned into little more than a harmless puddle of lukewarm water by a small shield of flame, dropped as soon as the incoming threat had been melted away.

Diluc stayed in the doorway, remaining stoic as he evaluated you, shrunken and huddled on the floor. “Good morning.”

He took a step towards you, extending a hand. You did not move to take it. “He’s in the vineyard.”

His gaze flickered towards the window. “So he is. But, you have nothing to worry about.” He’d left the door open. You were thankful for his forgetfulness – you didn’t want to be alone with anyone, let alone another powerful man with a powerful Vision. At the same time, you loathed him for it, for leaving you so vulnerable with so little thought. “I’ve asked Elzer to tell our guests that any wayward travelers are to be considered under my protection. That is, if he has the nerve to seek you out so directly.”

You curled into yourself further, burying your face in your knees. “You told him where we are?”

“I told him that you were beyond his reach, and that you would remain that way for as long as you were in my care.” Now, he crouched to your height. He did not offer you his hand again, but rather, clasped both at his midriff, leaving an arm’s length of empty space between him and you. “What are you afraid he’s going to do?”

Kill you. Take Lina. Throw her into the abyss and make her claw her way back up, until she was just as cold and just as hollow as he was. Fill your chest with water and break your legs and lock you away where you’d never see the sun again. Leave you helpless and hopeless and trapped at his side. Do anything but kill you.

“I—" Your voice cut out, your vision dimming black around the edges. It was getting hard to breathe. You could practically feel the rising tide seeping into your lungs. “He’s going to take me back to Snezhnaya.”

“And what is he going to do to you, in Snezhnaya?”

Kill you. Kill Lina. Kill you. Kill you. Kill you.

“He’ll force me to marry him. He’ll turn Lina into a soldier, or a weapon, or him.”

“And why do you think I’d allow that?”

You snapped towards him, baring your teeth. “He’s not going to ask for your permission,” And then, a moment later, when you came to your senses, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so harsh with you. Childe is a very twisted man, and the things he desires are…” You trailed off, burrowing your nails into your legs, but your heart was slowly falling out of your throat, your mind slowly beginning to clear. “They aren’t good. He wouldn’t be good, for Lina.”

“Then, we’ll have do our best to make it so that he never reaches her.” With a soft grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, rising to his full height. After a deep breath, you followed in-suit, brushing yourself off and smoothing over your nightclothes - worn more often than not, due to both your limited wardrobe and your hesitance to wander farther than the second floor of his manor. You weren’t sure why you bothered, he had already seen you bloody and exhausted and barely able to hold yourself up, but it seemed wise to make the effort. “Lina’s still asleep. I haven’t had much time to get to know her myself, but Adelinde tells me that she’s adjusting quite well, albeit with a bit much to say about the accommodations.”

“She’s always been picky,” you muttered, drawing the airiest chuckle from Diluc. Despite its softness, you squared your shoulders, attempting to retain as much of your pride as you could. “If she’s fussing, give her something fur-lined and keep her warm. She hates being cold more than anything.”

“I’ll let the maids know,” He turned to the door and, glancing over his shoulder, gave you a questioning look, as if asking if whether or not you cared to follow. “Unless you’d like to tell them yourself?”

You shut your eyes, but opened them quickly enough, straightening your back and walking through the open door with as much confidence as you could manage.

You saw Childe for the second time several weeks later, within the stifling confines of Diluc’s office.

While you couldn’t summon the strength to go beyond the mansion’s walls, not when the maids seem to so often return from their errands with complaints of a ‘red haired foreigner’ who stalked them through the marketplace, but you tried to make yourself useful when you could, to help with the housework and when your limited bureaucratic skills would allow it, aid Diluc with whatever mindless paperwork running a winery entailed. Currently, you were laid across the loveseat adjacent to the desk where Diluc sat, sorting through an impressive collection of different granted licenses and requested permits, keeping an eye on Lina as she stumbled clumsily around the limited space.

She was just starting to walk – albeit, for no more than a few steps at a time before she dropped back to her hands and knees and took to crawling like a crazed geovishap hatchling once more. Her newest goal seemed to be to crash into as many sharp edges as possible, and it was all you (and Diluc, when he took a break from his work to distract your willful daughter from her self-pummelation with cooed pleas and glowing birds made from softened flames) could do to limit the damage.

“She’s quite energetic,” he muttered, as he sent a palm-sized hawk soaring toward the low ceiling. Lina clapped excitedly, giggling and clutching at the wisps of smoke. “Should I assume she takes after her guardian?”

“If you fancied yourself a blind man, you might.” To say she took anything from you would have been a severe exaggeration, if not an outright lie. She was your daughter, but she hadn’t always been, and a day didn’t pass where you weren’t reminded of that in one way or another. “If anything, she’s left more of an impression on me. I used to enjoy sleeping past sunrise, but Lina managed to break that habit within weeks of her arrival.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Diluc’s lips. He started to straighten his back, to say something, but the door to his office opened before he had the chance – Adelinde, jaw set and eyes narrowed, standing in the doorway. “Master Diluc, we have a—”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I can make my own introductions.” Recognition was instant, the accompanying fear flooding in a moment later. You went rigid in your seat, your body preparing to run, but it was too late to escape. The only exit was already occupied by the very threat you needed to get away from. “Master Diluc and I share something better discussed in confidentiality,” Childe went on, stepping into the office, leaving a string of subordinates in the hall. “If you’d be so kind as to give us a few minutes alone?”

Adelinde pursed her lips. “Five minutes, exactly.” And then, by way of explanation, “The young Master’s time is a very precious thing.”

Childe only nodded, already claiming the armchair most directly across from Diluc’s desk. “Oh, I’m sure that he has many precious things, doesn’t he?”

Any trace of emotion wiped from his expression, Diluc turned to face the familiar intruder, dismissing Adelinde with a curt nod. Childe did not look toward you, did not pay so much as a wayward glance to Lina, but you called her to you regardless, pulling her into your lap and against your chest despite her hushed sounds of protest. He would have to wrench her from your arms, if he wanted to so much as touch her. You would not make the mistake of leaving her unattended, of leaving her vulnerable. Not again.

DIluc spoke first. “To what do I owe the honor, Lord Tartaglia?”

Mirth had always come easily to Childe, even if his joy was often hollow or sadistic. This may have been the most tense you’d ever seen his smile, the most strained. “I was just passing through the area and thought I might pay my pleasantries to the owner of the manor. The Fatui has always attempted to show appreciation to our dear friends in Mondstadt, after all.” Diluc’s lips quirked, but otherwise, he remained unfazed. Childe went on, leaning back in his seat. “And, of course, I figured it was time to collect the rest of my little family. I know my…” For the first time, he turned his attention to you, those empty eyes prying into the core of your being. A deep chill settled beneath your skin, but you attempted to ignore it, to block out all but the weight of Lina against you and the instinct to keep her wrapped in your arms as tightly as her squirming would allow. “I know my partner has a tendency to stray. It’s my only remorse that my poor daughter had to be dragged into such untimely adventures, and my only hope that they didn’t manage to outwear your hospitality.”

“You partner?” You noticed, not for the first time, how unlike Diluc’s eyes were to Childe’s – bright where his were faded, vivid where Childe’s had lost their luster. They were, however, not without their similarities. The spark that played across Diluc’s gaze as he met Childe’s stare, for example, was uncannily alike to the look that seemed to come over Childe whenever he saw an opportunity to draw blood. “Surely, you aren’t talking about my fiancé.”

For a moment, all was still.

And then, you swallowed back your nerves, letting out a shallow sigh as you shook your head. Despite your mimicked reluctance, you raised your voice, doing what you could to ensure those waiting in the hall would hear you clearly. “I thought we weren’t going to tell anyone yet, honey.”

“Pardon my eagerness,” He threw you a small smile; so practiced, it was practically gilded into place. “I figured letting one of our dear friends from the north wouldn’t hurt, and you know I’ve been dying to break the—”

“Cut the bullshit.” His smile had fallen, his expression returning to one of pure, concentrated aggression. Not so much outward hostility, but a clear readiness to fight; the unfaltering focus of a soldier looking for his battle. “I came for my family. I’m not leaving this nation without them.”

“You have no family here.” Easy, immediate, rehearsed and ready to be invoked. “Within the boundaries of this winery, the only items you have in your possession are my quickly thinning patience and a standing death sentence, should you try to lay a hand on any member of my household.”

“Households can be burnt down – or better yet, washed away.” He pushed himself to his feet, a translucent polearm manifesting in one hand while the other slammed into Diluc’s desk. You flinched, pushing yourself deeper into worn velvet cushions, but Diluc held steady, unrelenting in the face of a man gone mad with obsession. “I only wonder how many of your servants will have to drown in their own blood before you return what doesn’t belong to you.”

Diluc raised his hand, and an iron claymore appeared in his right hand, black as night and sharp as starlight. It hit nearly matched his height, the angular blade cutting deep into the floorboards with ease, but Childe’s eyes never left Diluc’s, nor did Diluc allow his attention to slip from Childe. “Try it, Harbinger. You will not be the first of your kind that I’ve slain.”

Childe seemed to consider it for a long, agonizing moment. Spurs of ice began to prickle at your fingertips, heat rolling off of Diluc’s claymore in waves, but mercifully, miraculously, Childe drew back, letting his polearm dissipate into a cloud of mist and sparks. “You should count yourself fortunate that I know how delicate my beloved is,” he spat, already turning his back to Diluc. “Next time I cross your path, I won’t be this reserved.”

“Let us hope for a swift reunion, then.”

Childe scoffed, but did not offer another rebuttal. With a single half-hearted kick, the door was torn off of its hinges and sent crashing to the floor. He exited the manor with no further contest, his subordinates scurrying behind him. When you could no longer hear his footsteps, his muffled cursing, Diluc turned back to you, the work on his desk clearly forgotten. “I believe you were telling me about how Lina took to Mondstadt?”

You took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself. “Right.” You paused, just barely letting yourself relax. “Now that you mention it, I suppose she’s always had a bit of a preference.”

The third and final time you saw Childe, he was crouching in your windowsill, his form silhouetted by the dim moonlight. You’d bolted awake at the sound of breaking glass, the hollow thud of an arrow planting itself in the opposing wall, but you only had a moment to take him in before he was on you.

For all your tenacity, he’d caught you off-guard, and your strength was nothing compared to his. He was on top of you in a second, had you pinned in another, his pam slotted over your mouth and his body crouched over yours. He was erratic in his desperation, his breathing heavy and his eyes filled with a certain mania you’d only ever seen when he returned from his missions, from his slaughters. A familiar terror rattled through your body, the faint taste of your own blood rising into the back of your throat, but if he wanted to kill you, you’d already have a hunting knife planted in your neck. What he had in store for you was something you feared far more than death.

You tried to scream from behind his hand, but he bared his teeth. “Quiet,” he hissed, close enough for his breath to ghost over the shell of your ear. “We wouldn’t want your little savior to come running, now, would we?”

Another shriek, just as stifled as the first. That earned a slight smile, a kiss to your temple, then another to your forehead, both lingering too long for comfort. He went for your lips, as well, but pulled back before he could truly attempt to make contact, already laughing at himself. “We’ll have time for that later on.” He bowed his head, leaning down far enough to bury his face in the crook of your neck, to inhale your scent. “As soon as I get you home, and I’m gonna get you home.” His teeth scraped over your skin. “I’m gonna get you home, and then, you’ll never have to leave me again.”

Your eyes went wide. You made another sound – softer, closer to a whimper than anything else, and immediately, Childe understood. You’d always hated that about him, just how easily he could read your panic. “We can have another. No distractions, this time.”

It was strange, the suddenness of it, the feeling of ice-cold adrenaline spreading through your veins like frost. You didn’t know what you were doing, what you were trying to do, not before a pillar of solid ice erupted from the minimal space between your body and his, throwing him upward and into the ceiling. You managed to scramble to your feet by the time his body came crashing back down, his shoulder colliding hard with the floor, and yet, he rose without issue, the only evidence of his pain residing in the tight, fanged sneer stretched across his lips. He summoned no weapon, took no stance, but you stiffened as he turned to face you, as he began to stalk forward.

“Stay where you are.” It was a struggle just to keep your voice steady, just to stop your knees from buckling underneath you. You pressed your back into the wall, fists curled and shaking at your sides. “If you take a step closer, I swear to—”

“What are you going to do, sweetheart? Kill me?” A step forward, then another. You could see the awkward slant of his dislocated shoulder, the trickle of dark blood slowly dripping from the corner of his mouth, and then, the moonlight glinting off a wall of ice, curved and jagged, vaulting from the floor at your feet. The spiked edges caught on Childe’s coat, tearing through fabric and skin in one unfaltering motion, leaving blood smeared across the points of your makeshift barrier. He let out a growl, low and feral, and reached for the bow fastened to his back. The bow he had never before thought you formidably enough to draw.

The bow you still were, thankfully, infuriatingly, undeserving of. His fingertips barely brushed against the grip before his hand away, finding a place to rest on the bicep of his injured arm, instead. “I love you,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do – love you, and when you’re finished playing house, I’ll be here to prove it. Don’t forget that when your little knight shows his true colors.”

He moved slowly, hauling himself towards the window he’d slipped into. You could’ve shot a bolt of ice into his back, could’ve found something to shatter over his head and end this all for good, but you didn’t, couldn’t seem to move as he slipped out of the shattered window and back into the night. Already planning to haunt you for another night, no doubt.

You weren’t sure how long you remained there, your feet frozen to the ground and your body too stiff to comprehend the idea of movement. It felt like hours, days, and yet, the sun never rose, the maids never came running, and nothing in the world seemed to change save for you and the glass shards that cut into your heels as you made your way to the bedroom door, then down the hall – finding Lina’s nursery and gathering your daughter in your arms. You didn’t remain there, but rather, ventured through the manor until you found Diluc’s chambers, the grand oak doors left unlocked. Before you could bring yourself to feel much of anything, you slipped inside and, with Lina still asleep and pressed into your chest, into the vacant side of his bed. Sheets rustled, the down-stuffed mattress dipped, and you felt a strong arm wrap around your midriff, a broad chest press into your back. His warmth, although now a little smothering, was enough to soften the ice that’d formed in your blood.

You closed your eyes and slept peacefully for first time in a very, very long while.

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