#// him: I WILL GROUND ALL THE ARCHONS EVEN THE ICE ONE!

[monogatcri]

@maquiscursed replied to your post:

nahida vc: you're experiencing too many (an)emotions. would you like a headpat?

━━ ˟ ⊰🍁❝ YES , but I will also ground a god, too, don't tempt me. ❞

[crystalflygeo]

The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Zhongli + gn!reader

cw/tags: rape/non-con, angst, bad ending, yandere-ish zhongli? feral/eroded zhongli, biting, crying, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe)

notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the dark/bad ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!

Bittersweet ending version here!!

Once upon a time…

A long, long time ago…

The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies, and defending their safe Harbor.

It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.

And his partner loved him just as much.

A love that would tragically become a twisted obsession.

It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.

As for his lover… well…

-----

Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.

The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.

Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.

It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…

A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.

Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.

You whimper.

The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.

“Why do you run away from me?”

“Leave me alone!” You scream.

“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”

At the words you only sob harder.

Mate.

Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.

You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.

Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.

The undeniable marks of erosion.

You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.

“W-wait. Stop-!” You try to push him back, panicked, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he’s immovable as stone.

You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the ground by heavy geo cuffs.

“Submit.” He growls.

You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands grope and rub all over your body, rough and callous.

He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His palm presses at a spot on your navel possessively, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You whine.

Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.

“Z-Zhongli-!”

Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?!”

Your whole body shakes, with rage, with fear. Your heart about to burst. You grit your teeth and glare at the dragon god with as much venom as you can.

“I don’t belong to you!”

He snarls, eyes widening to serpentine slits.

“Insolent. No matter, I’ll fill you up again and show you.”

The eroded God leans down to bite at your neck and you yelp, sharp fangs break your skin and you cry as you feel the warm blood spill. His claws prick at your thighs as he starts unceremoniously humping against you. The ridges on his draconic cock making your hole twitch and you gasp as he presses in, dipping slightly inside your thigh warmth. No need to prepare your body after so many years of coupling. Your hole already soft and molded to him like a worn-out toy.

“No, please… n-no.” Your voice breaks, tears running down your face.

Everything turns blurry, fuzzy, and your head spins.

How had things ended up like this?

You see no love in his eyes, no recognition. And you don’t recognize him either anymore. This creature, this beast… he is not your lover. He is not Zhongli…

And hasn’t been for who knows how long…

Zhongli raises one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other and pushes further in the slick warmth, ignoring the sounds you make. “Too big! I can’t-!” You scream and it just urges him to slam it in. “No- Ahh!” Sheathed all the way to the hilt, Zhongli groans as you clench around him.

He immediately starts thrusting and you feel the world tilt. It’s all too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your walls getting battered by his thick member, his animalistic grunts and groans, and the way your body betrays you… a speck of pleasure mixed in with the pain.

It's so cruel.

“Sto- gh! Stop it! Zhongli, please…!” You sob.

Zhongli hisses, muscles taut and flexing as his hips buck into yours, finally finding that spot that has you choking out a moan, your body shivers, forced to surrender and feel everything, a hot coil building on your lower stomach where the mark of geo glows as he continues to take what he wants from your struggling form. He laps at your skin and nuzzles there, almost lovingly. “Mine.”

Your moans start turning sweeter, previously pained sounds turning to vocalizations of carnal lust, your eyes glassy. You try to fight it, conflicted, but the stimulation is too much.

You come with a raw cry through gritted teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks and your own juices coating your skin causing you to feel dirty in more ways than one. Zhongli continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.

You feel him twitch inside you and groan, absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed with emotions, feeling sick, used and abused. He lowers your leg but doesn’t bother pulling out, keeping you there as he nips at your skin, murmuring soft words. “My mate. All pretty and filled up. All mine. Love you.”

You can’t bear to hear those words, spoken in the voice you continue to love after all this time. It shatters your soul, breaking it to pieces like the corroded dragon’s destroyed mind.

Feeling about to pass out, you close your eyes and your head lolls to the side, sniffling against your own forearm as tears continue to fall. “I love… Zhongli. Miss him. I hate you…”

He dissolves the geo shackles into specks of gold and holds your unconscious body in his arms, satisfied with the claims and scent he’s left on you. His tail swishes slowly, pleased with himself as he carries you back to the abode’s mansion.

Home.

Were he’ll keep you safe, bound to him.

Forever and always.

-----

…It is said that his lover is the key to keep the eroded God confined.

Trapped by the possessive dragon in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.

Until they both turn to dust.

[bamdelune]

Open Up (To Me) ♡ Alhaitham x GN!Reader

🎧 Song : Open Up - Meg Ruiz

A year following your death, Alhaitham finds a certain someone wandering the grounds of the House of Daena, fingers gracing the spines of each book without a care in the world.

Angst, angst to fluff, major character death, reader dies, gender neutral reader, no pronouns used, memory loss, mentions of samsara, nahida our favorite wing-auntie.

ALHAITHAM was sure everything happened. He knew. He knew he held your lifeless figure in his arms, cradling it as your head lolled around lifelessly. Dried blood stained your clothes a crimson brown and your skin ice cold, the beds of your nails turning a deep purple. He knew it happened.

You were one of the few courageous warriors that had helped out in Liyue when it was under Osial's attack, having been assigned there by the Akademiya for some extended research. You were meant to come back after a week. You were meant to come back to the safety and comfort of his arms. You were never meant to overuse your Cryo vision, the glass encasing it never meant to shatter and lose its icy glow.

Celestia had other plans.

Millelith soldiers from the Land of Commerce had come knocking on his door. Alhaitham excitedly expected it to be you, standing at the entrance of his home, the all-too-familiar grin of yours with the sun shining onto your skin, making you look all the more ethereal. That excitement subsided when he saw the soldiers, handing him an enevelope that seemed to come from the Tianquan of the Qixing. They waited for him to finish reading its contents.

He scanned over the words. Over, and over, and over, and over again. Was this some kind of sick joke? He expected you to come out with an apologetic smile but he was only greeted by the silence of Avidya Forest and the soldiers.

The soldiers led him to where your cold body laid, peacefully resting for eternity. They left him to provide some space out of respect.

Archons. Even when you were engulfed by the pale of death, he still found you beautiful, like he told you each morning you woke up by his side.

Alhaitham wanted to tear his heart out of his chest. He wanted to scratch his neck to rid him of his throat. He wanted to scream, he cursed at whatever deity was listening. An ugly sob followed by a sniffle escaped his lips, salty tears streamed down his face as he buried his head into your cold neck, cradling the shell of whatever was left of you.

He remembered it, all. too. well.

So would the archons care to explain to him how you were there now, eyes scanning the books on the shelves with pieces of literature secured in one of your arms. Perhaps sleep had wanted to have its way with him for the first time in a while? It has not been long since the incident with the Doctor and Lord Kusanali and he knew his sleep schedule hasn't been the best as of late.

But no matter how many times he blinked, no matter how many times he rubbed his eyes as he pinched himself. You were still there, now on your way to sit at one of the vacant desks and chairs.

It was really you. You, whom he had lost not so long ago. You, whose deathly cold body he held so closely that one morning to evening in the city with the uncomfortably heavy solitude and the realization of your death.

The moment you saw him in your peripheral vision, you looked up at the Acting Grand Sage.

"Hello. To what do I owe the pleasure?" You politely said at the stranger.

Time had stopped for the former scribe. 364 days, 7 hours and 15 minutes. Tomorrow was supposed to be the 1st anniversary of your death. How coincedental.

It was your voice that rang through his ears. The same voice that had wished him good luck. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into his ears during intimate moments.

Alhaitham managed to choke out a few words, sounding strained as to not startle you.

"Greetings." He said, stoic as ever as how you met him for the first time one faithful day in this very library. "I do not recall seeing you around, care to tell me your name?"

You chuckled lightly. Little birdies from around the Akademiya had spoke of a certain grey haired man, the Acting Grand Sage. Some spoke of him highly, whilst the contrasting spoke of him with deep disdain.

"My, the Acting Grand Sage asks for my name? Have I ran into trouble?" You replied, gently closing the open book you were previously reading and leaning over, head resting on your shoulder with a polite grin.

"Quite the opposite, if I may. I find you quite intriguing, not many scholars like to have a physics book open."

"Ah, this?"

You gestured him to lean his head forward to your lips before whispering,

"Truth be told, I wasn't really paying attention to the words. It's my first day here, I wished to pass off as a competent one." You softly giggled into his ear.

Exactly what you had done on your first day, except Alhaitham had an icy aura that surrounded him as if he was traced by it. Now he was the one who had approached you.

The Acting Grand Sage was never the one to believe in hypothetical things like fate but it was as if that very same thing had line this up for him.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw a pair of small feet and strands of white hair running and flowing freely once he turned his focus to the source. He inwardly smiled.

Oh, he had fallen for you once again.

Worry not for the amount of hypothetical days the Samsara keeps him in a loop. Alhaitham worries not for your loss of memory. He'd willingly get stuck in the chains of it for you, for as long as he finds his way back to you and you the same.

You have embedded and carved a place reserved only for you in his soul only the Primordial One could eradicate and erase.

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙤𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙤𝙩! ✿

@lufenianwol asked: can i request a bosacious x male!reader headcannons or one-shots? whichever you prefer!

characters: bosacious x male!reader

warnings: fluff, a different AU where everyone is alive and well, nothing bad happened i swear, bosacious being a himbo, reader is zhongli’s child. whether adopted or not can be up to your interpretation, reader is half-dragon but can disguise as a human

notes: currently writing from inside my casket. kinda comfy in here ngl

art credits to: apol on hoyolab!

lucky you, lucky you

how in the name of celestia did you got so lucky that you ended up together with this fine ass himbo?

like what?????

well, it all started with your young, mischievous, troublemaker of an ass decided to play a prank on your dad AKA the geo archon

it was another simple day, morax calling upon his yakshas and adeptis to hold a their weekly meeting on top of mount hulao

everyone was present, serious, standing ready as they all attentively listen to the dragon’s words. that is until you decided to play a prank on your old man and dump a bucket of cold water with ice over the geo archon. immediately, you felt a large hand pull you down from the tree branch you were on by your throat and slam you down on the ground harshly

grunting and groaning under your breath, you glared up at your attacker, ready to hit them with a nice vile threat, did you saw your attacker

“…well hello, sailor”

“who?”

and that was how you and bocasious first met

of course morax had to explain to every adeptus and yakshas there that you meant no harm and was simply playing a prank. also a certain adepti, cough cloud retainer cough, may have fainted when she found out that you were the geo archon’s son. and yes bocasious immediately apologized and bowed and even suggested he would kill himself for offending his lord’s son

cue the rest of the yakshas trying to hold back the himbo from jumping off of the top of mount hulao

that was how you two first met. comedic, a bit aggressive but certainly memorable and nice to recall on and get a good laugh out of

since then bosacious has started to be a bit more gentle towards you. at first it was because you were his lord’s son, he must stay respectful and keep his manners in check after all

however as more time passes and the two of you interact, the more genuine bosacious’ feelings for you became

what started out as “he’s my lord’s son so i must respect him and stay close to him” slowly morphed into “he isn’t so bad after all. i kinda like this guy” to “oh… oh! i like this guy!”

and yes bosacious still haven’t figured out that he had romantic feelings for you until an incident happened

an incident where he got heavily injured and bled out a lot of blood and i mean a LOT of blood. of course in standard injury trope, bosacious had started to shake and tremble the night he gained his injuries. as a half-dragon, it would mean your normal body hear is higher than the average and so deciding to help the poor twitching and groaning yaksha through the night, you decided to cuddle his bigger frame close to yourself

heat can be transferred very quickly through physical touch, that was all you kept mumbling to yourself as you held him close. as the night passes on, it had become comfortable to simply just… lay there in each other’s arms

“perhaps this human act of cuddling isn’t so bad…”

famous last words, [name]. famous last words

the next morning when the rest of the yakshas had arrived at bosacious’ own nest, it was literally the perfect epitome of that one vine

indirias: “WAKE UP SLEEPYHEAD!”

[name], barely awake, peeking up from bosacious’ nest: “what the fuck-“

cue the screams

xiao is just standing there with the most annoyed look on his face stfu babybird, we know you’re happy for your big brother indirias and bonanus are happily screeching while menogias is rubbing his temples and rambling to himself on HOW on teyvat did his big brother ended up together with his lord’s son

at first, when morax heard of the news he was incredibly overprotective and always throwing the electro yaksha the “i’ve got my eyes on you” look

but as centuries pass and the archon war finishes with the yakshas alive and well, the geo archon and his son being revered together alongside the god of dust, eventually morax comes to trust bosacious in taking good care of one of his sons

after morax had officially gave his blessings for the two of you and his approval, bosacious got a little bit too excited and called the geo archon “father”

no one lets him live this down and i mean NO ONE. not even xiao

as time changes and liyue prospers more and more, after morax and his loyal illuminated beast followers retires into the peaks of the many great mountains of the nation of geo, did the electro yaksha asked the half-dragon to be his betrothed and mate

it definitely took an incredibly long time of pining and stealing looks over each others’ shoulders but it was all worth it

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

O Tsaritsa

Synopsis: Childe's loyalty to his Archon is unshakable, one of the surest things he's ever known. But perhaps in the end, he'll forsake her for you.

Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Fluff, Comfort Warnings: Battle, mentions of drowning and falling, crying, and nervousness

~ * ~ O Tsaritsa, protect us from the world with walls of ice and snow. Ajax knew the importance of his nation’s Archon, as all children do. The Lady of Eternal Winters, the Cold Maiden, the God of Love- she went by many names, yet all know her official title by heart- The Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon, Her Royal Highness of Snezhnaya. His father would tell him stories by the fireplace, playfully ruffling his son’s gingery hair as he weaved tales of Her Majesty; in battle, amongst the other gods, sitting upon her crystalline throne of frost. Ajax would sit in the opposite chair, eyes wide with awe and oblivious to his father’s quiet chuckles. He was too young to know the meaning of loyalty, yet still passion burned in his heart as he proclaimed that the Tsaritsa must be the best of the Seven, if all those stories were true. And his parents would smile, patting his head before asking him to come help with preparing dinner- fish, the family’s favorite. O Tsaritsa, give me strength in times of need, when I feel like falling forever. He was 14 when his childhood ended. He had merely been looking for adventure, a precocious child who deemed his easy life at home boring, slow, monotonous. He had only intended to run away- just for a little bit- for some fun and excitement, before returning home at sundown to be tucked neatly into bed, dreaming the same simple dreams he always did. But Ajax had slipped, and tumbled, and fell, down through a mysterious crack in the earth. It was scary- terrifying even- back then, thinking he was going to die and that no one would find his corpse, because who in Teyvat would want to climb down into a seemingly endless drop of darkness? Even his family didn’t love him that much. Somehow, he didn’t die. Instead he landed with a splash that echoed far into the distance, into water deep enough to swim in, sword still clutched desperately in his hands. It was only after he floundered to shore and lay there a while, wheezing and coughing up water, that he noticed the speckles of light adorning the walls and ground like miniature stars and the faint sound of howling- wind or beast, he couldn’t tell. The sun was nowhere in sight. In the coming years he would speak to no one about the horrors of underground, the creatures that lurked amongst the ruins of a decaying kingdom, or the countless, bloody battles he had to endure. He felt so much older, even though his parents said he was missing for only three days, and with that age came the loss of everything but a horrible need to experience the sensation of fighting for his life again, fingers itching to take up some weapon, any weapon, and fight. His father sent him to the Fatui, and Ajax didn’t care, only desiring to surpass everyone in terms of bloodshed, something in his mind humming in satisfaction whenever another opponent was defeated. Soon, Ajax was dead, and the Eleventh Harbinger Tartaglia was born. O Tsaritsa, I pledge my everlasting loyalty to you and this nation alone. An assignment once sent him to Liyue, a warm land all the way across the sea. It was an important mission- perhaps the most important he’s ever known, and Tartaglia preens at the fact that he, specifically, was chosen. It’s with smug satisfaction that he counts off all the correct steps, watching the bank-goers fuss over debt and mora. Accounts and money were never really his thing- Pantalone was more suited- so soon enough Tartaglia’s eyes begin to drift closed, exhausted from the last few days of nonstop moving and talking. Only they snap back open when someone strides up to the desk and sets down a bag of mora, greeting Ekaterina with a friendly wave. You never really cared if the Northland Bank was associated with the Fatui or not- their services were excellent, convenient, and Ekaterina had become a close friend. So it was with ease and confidence that you stride into the building, waving to Ekaterina and setting your funds on the desk. Your personal philosophy has always been to save most of what you earn from work, and you chat with Ekaterina as she takes your mora to deposit into your account. She’s on for lunch tomorrow- a small tradition you had formed together- and with a smile and another wave she bids you good day and farewell. When you turn, you meet the gaze of an unfamiliar man in gray, and are momentarily stunned by his deep, lightless blue eyes, before giving him a cordial nod and meandering on your way. Tartaglia curiously watches you leave, blinking in confusion when he hears a murmur in the back of his mind, the Foul Legacy he’s become so accustomed to rumbling in interest. The Harbinger turns to Ekaterina when she returns, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. “Who was that?” O Tsaritsa, this curiosity burns like never before, am I foolish for following it? He sees you more in the following weeks, coming in to deposit your pay or chat with Ekaterina, head held high. It’s strange, to see someone from Liyue walk into the bank without a look of worry or despair painted across their face, and at times he wonders if you’re even aware of the Bank’s connections with the Fatui at all. But the way you fuss with Ekaterina’s mask proves otherwise, always straightening and centering it on her face, the receptionist happier than Tartaglia had ever seen. Ah, he forgot that a majority of his coworkers are, at heart, regular people trying to earn their keep who’ve never touched a weapon in their lives. It’s by pure coincidence that you meet face-to-face one night, around dinnertime. You’re the one treating Ekaterina this time- Archons only know how stressed she’s been recently, even if she never says anything, and you’re pulling her along when your feet betray you and force you to stumble backwards. With a sharp inhale you rush to cover your head in anticipation of the fall, but instead you land against something considerably softer than the floor, leaning diagonally. When you look up, your gaze is filled with a vivid, familiar cobalt. Ekaterina rushes to your side, one apology after another pouring from her lips as she helps you up and looks worriedly at the person you ran into, but the man simply laughs and waves her off. With a charming grin he sticks his hand towards you, smile only widening when you politely take it. His name is Childe. You offer him a smile of your own, and Ekaterina watches, awed, behind you. O Tsaritsa, these feelings are new and raw, yet I want to know more, more, more. Childe finds himself attached quickly- too quickly, perhaps, if he was thinking straight- but around you, such a notion was impossible. You, who cared little for the reputation of both the Qixing and the Fatui, greeting everyone with equal respect. You, who acted as an unofficial tour guide of the Harbor, showing Childe the best places to eat and sightsee, even your own personal favorites. You, who didn’t flinch even the slightest bit when he confessed his position as a Harbinger. You- stunning, amazing, perfect; words that came to Childe’s mind when he thought of you, even if others couldn’t see it the same way. Foul Legacy likes you too, perhaps even more than Childe, always purring and cooing at the sight of you strolling into the bank- It’s only by enormous willpower that the Harbinger prevents Foul Legacy from taking over his form, just to experience the sensation of holding your gentle hand in his claws. The Abyssal monster whines and, in defeat, retreats to the recess of Childe’s mind to sulk for the rest of the day, and Childe has to hold back a smug smile of triumph. When the time comes to carry out his oh-so important mission for the Tsaritsa, he almost detests how he has to slip away from your company early, donning the mask of Tartaglia to confront the Traveler. Foul Legacy’s ravenous, enraged from a combination of being deceived and the lack of time spent with you that day, yet the Traveler prevails nonetheless and forces a weakened Tartaglia to summon an old god, the Overlord of the Vortex. The Harbor will drown, but Tartaglia- Childe- can only think of you, and desperately he hopes you get to a safe location, somewhere away from the sea. His heart sings in relief when he finds you standing beside Ekaterina in the Bank, but it quickly sinks when you glance at him and march over, a furious expression on your face as you swiftly land a smart punch to his shoulder. Childe staggers, regret already pooling in his stomach, but steadies when your arms suddenly wrap around his waist, your face against his shoulder as you tell him through muffled words to never do that again, or he’ll kill you from worry. Although weak, Foul Legacy purrs contentedly as Childe hesitantly rests his own hands on your back, and he swears a few purrs slip from his own mouth when your grip tightens. O Tsaritsa, allow me to indulge in this happiness a bit longer. Everybody in Liyue hates him now, the scapegoat in the Fatui’s plans. As he took the blame, La Signora bartered with Rex Lapis for his Gnosis before leaving without a care in the world, leaving Tartaglia betrayed and despised by everyone in a nation. Everyone except you and perhaps the Traveler, the latter of which only puts up with him for weekly sparring. It’s the same this week, every week- but although he’s hated and away from home and his god and fights to his near death with the Harbor’s golden-haired savior, Childe couldn’t be happier. You’re by his side, and that alone makes him and Foul Legacy smile like the sunrise breaking over glittering waves. Every week, he fights the Traveler, and every week, you wait for him outside the Golden House. You made a pinkie promise, after all. This week, however, you’re early. Not only early, you’re curious- you know Childe- Ajax, he said to call him, when it’s just the two of you- is an excellent fighter, and despite your lackluster knowledge of battle you want to see him spar, want to see the way he’ll inevitably twist it into a beautiful performance of Hydro and Electro. With a single hand you push the door to the Golden House open and immediately let out a yelp as you slide several meters down, the top floor already out of commission from Childe and the Traveler’s battle. You land in a pile of mora, the coins scattering around your feet and going entirely unnoticed as you stare in amazement at the fight unfolding before your eyes. The Traveler looks the same, not even the slightest bit scratched, but their opponent is an enormous monster, adorned in violet and black armor with what looks like a shimmering celestial cape, and a bloodred mask with two horns and one shining blue eye. Your heart beats suddenly when you realize that the beast is Childe- it must be- and you press a hand to your chest in an attempt to calm it. It’s a hectic, ferocious battle, but you’ve come only at the tail end and soon the Traveler strikes the final blow, Childe letting out a screech of defeat and slumping to his knees, breathing heavily. The barrier around the arena flickers then dissipates, and without thinking you shove the coins away and sprint over to the monster, ignoring the Traveler’s shock when they see you. Foul Legacy squeaks when he sees you, nervousness flaring suddenly when you approach. He refuses to meet your eyes when your run slows to a jog, too ashamed and frightened because what will you say? Surely you wouldn’t love him like this, he was foolish to think you ever would. You love Childe, the human, the Harbinger, not Childe, the creature from the darkest depths of Teyvat. You’re close enough to touch him now, and he shrinks away with a soft whimper, hunching his body over in an attempt to appear smaller, less threatening. Something soft rests on his knee, and he looks down to see you pressing your hands against it, looking up at him with nothing but worry. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” Oh. Oh. The concern and affection in your voice makes him sob, and he turns so he can face you properly, cape-like wings limp on the elegant flooring. You stay still as stone as Childe reaches, hands hovering just beside your head, before you press your face into his palms with a comforting hum. Tears drip down his cheeks which you carefully wipe away, admiring how his crystalline eye slips shut as purrs begin to filter from his chest. Foul Legacy doesn’t remember ever being this relaxed, this cared for- not while he was controlling their shared body, anyway, and subconsciously his clawed hand twitches in a need to pull you close and hold you forever. But suddenly you slip your smaller, more fragile hand into his, and Foul Legacy stares before gently closing his talons overtop of it, almost chittering in delight when you close the remaining distance with a few quick steps and lean your head against his chest, accepting and loving every part of what makes up your beloved Childe. With your opposite hand you hold his cheek, eyes glittering at the way he leans into the touch desperately, like a man starved, and by standing on your toes you’re able to press a small kiss to Foul Legacy’s forehead. His jaw drops, revealing his deadly, adorable fangs, and with a warbling trill he hides his face with his hands and the lavender fluff that adorns his shoulders, only able to let out flustered squeaks as your kind laughter fills the air, hand finding its purchase in his locks of coppery hair. Foul Legacy chirps, embarrassed, but not even he can conceal the smile that spreads across his mask-like face when you give him a hug, so similar to the one after he summoned Osial yet so much better because he feels like he’s home with you, who holds his heart and cherishes it more than all the power in the world. Home is where his heart is, and Snezhnaya is home no longer. O Tsaritsa, forgive me, for I’ve betrayed you and my nation, and fallen in love.

[sl33py-day]

Imposter AU with a twist Part 2!

Tw: Swearing, a bit of yandere Albedo, Your friend is a horrible person and gets slapped on the face with some Karma and Trauma.

A/n: I didn’t want to keep saying ‘Your friend’ so I named her Bethany and Beth. Also I feel like this blog is more of a crackfic blog since there’s barely any serious writing. But hey it’s fun to write. Someone wanted it and I hope I met the expectations

Day’s and weeks and a single month has passed since you descended to Teyvat from the bottomless pits of hell. People are still after your head, the pick me imposter still has not been visited by Karma, and you got a yandere, kinda. I’m saying kinda because Albedo is possessive of you and that’s all…..for now.

During the month of being in Minecraft survival mode some more characters believed you’re the OG creator. That and they just can’t handle your friend, who I shall name Bethany. Sorry to all Bethany’s but Imma steal your name real quick.

Diluc is a good example of not handling Bethany. He has told you that she would cry when a man, his brother and five other men, don’t pay attention to her. She would tell Childe to get her the most expensive gift and throw it away afterwards. He finds her annoying and one point he told you “If I had to choose between Kaeya and….the girl. I would choose Kaeya right away. That’s how annoying she is.”

Now here comes the fun part of this AU. The finding out that the imposter is the OG creator. Like I said the last part Karma is gonna slap her face sooner and later, well Karma not only slapped her but gave her the ultimate shoe slap, with a boot and high heel.

In the Imposter AU the only thing to tell from Imposter and Real apart was the golden child blood test thingy. There is one way where I feel like would be more funny and that is the ‘accident’ way.

The accident way is probably the most funniest way of people finding out that they fucked up. Imagine this, Your walking back to where ever the failed experiment is to give him the flowers he needed. But along the way your arm got scratched by a random branch. This y/n is clumsy they bump into things a lot and whenever they do they just rub off the pain until they or someone else tells them that they’re bleeding. So back to the branch thing, you got scratched by the lonely piece of wood and kept walking. Only to cross a certain traveler and they’re somehow flying food.

They cross paths, Aether doesn’t bother looking and has a place to be. Paimon on the other hand saw the gold shimmering blood and was like “Wait a MINUTE!”

“You there! Paimon has a very serious question!” Paimon yelled out but you kept on walking ignoring her as if she’s a ghost. That was until paimon told Aether and Aether is now chasing after you. Like I know I need my daily dose of adrenaline but why it gotta be like this?

While running Aether was yelling and Venti being the little shit he is heard it in the wind. Don’t ask me how that makes sense he’s the god of air. Now venti is in front of you and let’s skip a hour or two after.

Scratch that make one hour turn into 3 hours of no stop arguing. Not between you and the worshipers or overly simps but between you and Bethany.

Bethany Heard that people found you and wanted to see you uh turn the bye bye life light on. So she came in the most ugliest dress ever in the mind of y/n.

While being surrounded by the archons as they looked at you with disgust. You were on the ground with a sword against your neck. The archons believe that you put gold glitter on your arm to get the chance of stealing their graces spot? Does glitter even exist in Tevyat?

“You go to such lengths to steal our graces spotlight?!” Yelled Zhongli still having the pole arm against your neck. You are just sitting there on the floor slightly terrified because my god scary archons are more scarier then your mom.

“Sir, I didn’t even have a choice to look like that Beth Meth girl. It’s called Genes. GEN-NET-ICS.” You called out making everyone yell out insults. All of a sudden Bethany comes walking down as the people spread out like the sea. Everyone bowed and said praises.

“You really wearing that dress? It looks like something that Carella Deville would wear and honey that’s not necessarily a good thing” and that sent the lighter to the bomb.

“Well at least I have more things then you do. I would have an entire world after you are dead.” Beth’s sassy ass said as everyone is just wondering if you two know each other. Not only are you two fighting but Diluc and Aether are having to hold back Albedo so he doesn’t do….bad things.

Back to Beth with the meth fighting match. The light you started finally reached the bomb having Bethany spill everything she has done, on earth and Teyvat out loud. My god she did more stuff than you thought.

“You are always in the fucking way! Nothing I do to you ever works! I had to take money from you so your parents would hate you so you would feel shitty because of them. I spread rumors of you so people hated you. Hell I even practiced make up so people would believe you hit me!”

That’s not even the tip of the ice burg and yet many many people are in a state of shock that they are frozen in place. Oh and albedo? Ya Diluc and Aether are having a struggle. With the bomb being set off nothing is stopping Bethany to say anything and everything she has done to you. What are you doing? Letting her scream and yell since Karma is coming closer and closer.

“Then when I was Teleported here people said I was a god! They treated me better than you! I got the attention I wanted! No one was gonna try and steal the spotlight if they did I would just send someone to kill them. I have men at my fingertips so if someone insulted me or I found the person annoying I would send them to kill the person. Easy Peasy just make up a reason and they’ll do it.”

After she said that many people gasped and a few people yelled “Is that why my son/daughter went missing/were found dead?!” Yeah what a shocker now. The once looked up god is now the imposter and committed more crimes then the Fatui. She was about to say more but you stopped her.

“You did all that? Dear you’re worse than the American government and the Fatui combined. I’ll tell you why people were nice to me and not you.” You stood up with you hands behind your back. No one stopped you they wanted to see what would happen. “I’m genuinely nice to people and they do it back but some don’t. Take yourself for example, I was nice to you. I checked up on you everyday to make sure you where ok but you did all this instead.”

Bethany’s face was more redder then Diluc and a tomato together. She was furious that you came an ruined everything. She started to shout nonsense as you backed away slowly. She didn’t notice so she kept throwing insults after insults while you were all the way in the back with albedo.

Some hydro slimes and cryo slimes were walking around her as they were just doing Slime things. But one electro slime made a mistake of walking in front of her and, by accident or not, zapping her feet slightly. She let out a screech and hopped from one foot to another. Since the hydro slimes were walking around her they made the ground slightly wet. Thanks to the cryo slimes they made the slightly wet ground icy and slippery.

So while she was hopping she slipped on the ice. Fortunately or unfortunately you guys were by a cliff of some sort. I think you know what happened, she fell down but survived as the cliff wasn’t that high. So yay?

After she fell you stood there for a few minutes before saying “Ah, Karma did give her a punch in the face after all……But that seemed planed.” You looked at the slimes with a suspicious face. The hydro slime just turned around and walked away while the electro slime was like “oh this Leaf on the floor is so interesting wow” what is the cryo slime doing? Looking over the cliff where Bethany feel almost mocking her. “Haha bish you slipped” is what the cryo slime is probably thinking.

[lumi077]

Chapter 3: We’ve seen enough, but have we really?

Warnings: realistic healing, panic attack, just some heavy themes tbh.

You have travelled for many days and nights, but you have finally arrived at Sumeru. Your heart is still heavy with the ice of grief, but perhaps the sizzling winds will help it thaw...and the sizzling chemistry between your coworkers. You were feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time...until you see an unwelcomed party.

A/N: It has been long awaited, I'm sure. Hopefully you all enjoy!!

<Previous Next>

The first thing that shocked you upon leaving the boat was the almost overbearing heat. You were used to harsh coldness and biting winds, not humid heat and sizzling airs. Sumeru was very different from Snezhnaya, that was for sure. The doctor chuckled into your ear, he had been watching your survey of the port with keen but interested eyes. 

Trees were what caught your attention first, there weren’t many trees in your homeland because the cold was rather good at killing any fertile farming land. And the rain turned to snow before it even hit the ground, and snow rarely melted fast enough to keep a tree watered. The trees here were lush and filled with different shades of greens and browns. Birds cooed, chirped, and flew in a dance of beauty and grace in the air. It was mesmerizing.

“How do you like it, my dearest collector?” His haughty and deep voice cooed next to you, his eyes, if you were able to see them, were looking at you with a softness unheard of by the mad doctor.  

“It’s beautiful…and so alive.” You sighed dreamily. True there was fauna and wildlife in Snezhnaya but it was nothing like this. It wasn’t warm with the sun beating down, just cold and dark. “Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.”

“It is.” Dottore agreed, a slight nod of his head “But all this pales in comparison to you.” He smiled slyly as the color red dusted your cheeks and your eyes widened in surprise.

“I-” You paused, unsure of how to proceed. Dottore, archons, all your coworkers said things like that to you. Pantalone would call you his treasure anytime you saw him, Tartaglia was basically your puppy, Columbina called you her fair dove, Arlecchino was nice to you, the captain called you his darling, Sandrone called you her muse and said you were a masterpiece anytime she saw you. All of it was very weird, now that you think about it. Even Pierro treated you differently, calling you his love and babying you.

Then there was Scaramouche. He was difficult, one minute calling you his lovely doll and saying that Celestia itself was jealous of your beauty. Then going and insulting you to your face and even to other people as well. It was a rollercoaster of emotions with him, but you did miss it. You missed him.

Footsteps echoed on hollow wood, and a scowling face made it’s way into view. “There you are.” Scara’s voice rang out, eyes narrowing in anger. You still looked a bit dead on your feet, but it was nowhere near as bad as it was when you first started your journey. You can’t recall how long the journey was exactly… you slept for most of it. And when you weren’t sleeping, you were eating. That has made you a bit bloated, which Dottore said would go down the more your body got used to regular meals again.

“You look like trash.” Scara stated simply, hands on his hips as if he was a scolding mother. “But better than what I heard you looked like.” He added, still looking rather angry at you. “How on Teyvat could you let yourself get that bad? Are you so weak that just a little more paperwork was enough to throw you for a loop? Absolutely pathetic, you are completely worthless.”

You sighed, this is what you didn’t miss “Scaramouche. Not now.” It wasn’t just a bit of paperwork. It was everything Rosaylne was doing before she died, before her murder and even before her departure to Inazuma.

He hissed and took your hand with uncharacteristic softness, eyeing you with mean but worried eyes “Were you worried about me, Scara?” You asked softly, but you suppose it came off as teasing because the instant you stopped speaking he let go of your hand with pink cheeks and turned away. 

“Me? Worried for you?” He scoffed out the words like you had insulted him, which to him you probably did. “Never, I would never worry for someone as lowly as you.” His words held venom, yes, but lacked sincerity as they always do. You wish you could see the soft side of him, you can probably guarantee that it’s better than whatever side of him this is.

“No, of course not.” You agreed after a moment of thought, tilting your head. You decided to change the subject lest he get too annoyed and give you a headache like normal. “How are you liking sumeru, Balladeer?”

He didn’t miss how you used his code name instead of the nickname you always call him, and for some reason that just made him even angrier “it’s Scara to you, you lowly idiot.” he hissed, turning back to you with narrowed eyes. “And i’m liking it just fine. Here, let me show you around.”

You turned your head to look at Dottore, who simply smiled and waved you away with one hand. “Go on now, my dearest. You’ve earned a bit of fun before the work begins.” For some reason that just sent butterflies throughout your entire stomach. But you killed those fluttery bastards and turned away. Never again will someone hold your heart, you will never let anyone hurt you ever again. 

“Ok ok, show me.” you relented and let him drag you all around Sumeru to show you his favorite spots, his least favorite spots, and someone named Haypasia. You’re still a bit confused about her, in all honesty. She seems weird, and she makes you feel a dark ugly thing within your heart despite her showing you the utmost kindness. 

Sooner than you would have liked, sun was setting, bathing the city in a lovely orange hue as you and Scara walked down one of the many paths side by side. He was talking about something to you, but you stopped paying attention when a rather familiar looking blonde entered your vision two minutes ago. The traveler and their companion Paimon. Her murderer was walking the streets casually, as if the murder of your dearest friend wasn’t hanging off their shoulder like a noose. The familiar and never ending burning of the blood being pumped through your veins sprang to life with an intensity unknown to you.

Scaramouche seemed to notice, his mouth open to presumably tell you off in his aggressive manner before he stopped, eyes finding the same target as you had, and suddenly a vice grip locked around your wrist. He uttered your name, looking more serious than you have seen him be today “We should get back to the boat.” He didn’t state it like a suggestion, and the undertones of his voice made it seem like he was ordering you. “We’ve seen enough today.” He was being truthful, you definitely did see enough today. He had forced you to eat at three different food stalls, and bought you flowers at another 3 street vendors. All of which he was carrying for you in a bag with his other hand. 

The want to enact vengeance before the lowly scum even knew what was happening and who you were was strong, oh so strong as the burning only grew steadily in its intensity the more your eyes remained on them. They were laughing and happy, while you had been miserable for weeks. WEEKS. 

For some reason tears pricked at your eyes, memories of centuries with Rosalyne flashed by in only seconds, and your bottom lip trembled at the effort to keep in the building sobs. You don’t know why you were acting like this, you promised yourself and her that you wouldn’t do this exact thing. But it was so hard, and seeing the catalyst for all this grief finally broke you.

“Yeah…” You agreed in a broken whisper, shaky eyes trying to look away but stuck. “We have.”

He didn’t need to say anything else, or perhaps he couldn’t think of anything that would make you feel better. He knows that there isn’t enough words in the world, or enough gifts to stop grief weighing down your every step.

All of the warmth you accumulated throughout the day seemed to seep out of you and into the ground, and you felt cold. Cold and empty, like a corpse walking the earth again. You felt worse, if it were even possible. All you could see was Rosalyne, your dearest Rosalyne. And her smile that she saved for you, the feeling of her hands in your hair as she fixed it for you, the sound of her- wait.

Your breath, that once was calm, started coming out in short puffs and breathed in through gasps. Her voice! What did her voice sound like? You were too busy to remember it, how could you forget her voice! The songs she hummed, or the words of encouragement. You knew them all by heart but instead of hearing her voice you heard your own. 

Scara looked panicked, purple hues widened as he took in your panicked form. He tried to pick you up, but you locked up and started breathing worse. 

Looking around he decided to get Dottore, running off as quickly as he could. Leaving you alone in the shaded ground behind a tree.

You don’t remember the tears, sobs, or wails. All you remembered was that you forgot her voice, her sweet sweet voice. 

Cold gloved hands came into contact with your shoulder, and you flinched so violently people would think you were expecting a punch to follow the touch. But the hands didn’t stray, not once as they gently rubbed your shoulders. You think you could faintly hear the sound of a voice, muffled and quiet against the walls of your despair. It sounded almost soothing, but you could barely hear it at all. 

You think you heard your name, far away in the distance and not from the voice that seemed to be talking your ear off religiously. Your unfocused eyes shook as you tried to focus on them towards the horizon, the orange turning to a dark black the closer night was upon the land. 

Squinting you realized that it was Dottore who seemed to be comforting you, kneeling down in front of your hunched form and seemingly comforting you. You sniffled loudly, hands blindly going to tug at his shirt. You don't know why you were tugging so insistently, but the Doctor shook his head and picked up up. You felt a small pressure against your head at the same you felt a pinch in your arm. Your watery eyes looked up again, darkness enshrouding your vision. The last thing you did before you blacked out was glare and hopefully curse his family lineage.

Then all that was left is blackness, and her.

[fairykazu]

we are reunited / you must go ft. scaramouche

contents: mentioned of ghosting, implied requited feelings, pent-up emotions, scaramouche is referred as kunizukushi, scaramouche is balladeer, abandonment issues, self sabotage

masterlist

a fair skinned male dressed in shades of red and purple stood quietly as inazuma thundered, showering the island with tears from the archon. walking against the cold, dirt path, he arrived at a small house with a small arch entrance. he opened the gate, walking on the stone slabs to the front door. his veil attached to his scarlet hat swayed in the wind, he never felt so anxious before. as he is the balladeer, the sixth harbinger in the fatui, he would never be scared, never be a pawn to someone. but the person he’d be visiting would affect him this deeply. 

he cleared his throat, platters of the rain hitting his kasa hat. the electro delusion clinked again his belt. the wooden door seemed like it was looming over his fate. does he risk the chance of seeing them again? is it worth it? see them again, steal the gnosis and disappear again. would that be worth it? 

scaramouche shook his head, he doesn’t need to think of the possibilities right now. aside from that, by the way the window’s blinds clinked faster than the lighting striking down a tree, they’re home. knocking on the door, he snapped his fingers as if he was doing a secret code. 

the door didn’t open. 

his first reaction was to use force on the door but scaramouche was clenching his hands; he relaxed because he forgot one more step, pinching the bridge of his nose. he flicked the bell near the table, a pair of eyes greeted him as the door creaked open. 

the person before him seemed confused. seemed, that is. awkward silence lingered between the two, only the raining ambience filled the air. scaramouche stood his ground, not wanting to speak. luckily for him, they broke the ice. 

“kunizukushi.” they said, crossing their hands. scaramouche met their piercing gaze. it has been so long since he had seen these pair of eyes. he wondered what you experienced after he had left. “what are you doing here?”

“well, i’m running errands for my work.” as they scanned scaramouche’s outfit, recognizing the fatui symbol. they pulled him into their house, making him stumble on his way in here. “running errands? really, kunizukushi, do you really think i’d believe this lie?” 

well, you did before. scaramouche thought. they used to act like worshipers as if i was a god. maybe, they will after i become an archon. he glanced at them as they pinched the bridge of their nose, mumbling to themself about what to do with him. they should treat me better than what they’re doing, i will be an upcoming archon, anyway. 

he leaned against the wall, checking his nails, “is this the way you treat all your guests? not quite a host, are you?” they rolled their eyes, 

“you want a good host? fine, come here.” they replied, pulling scaramouche into the living room. it looked like it was before. when scaramouche was still a puppet who didn’t know any better, he hopped between villages quicker before he made any bonds with anyone. after the incidents before, he didn’t want more betrayals but one friendship slipped through his iron steeled heart, one being with name. 

he didn’t mean to and he tried his best to avoid their every move. but they were special in the way they attempted to befriend him, in a way someone would bait a cat with a treat. hell, they were persistent even when he said he’d move into a different village, they managed to anchor him in the same village. 

if he squinted there was a faint drawing of them and him standing together, he remembered that he drew that and they convinced their parents to keep it. why do you have it still? he mumbled to himself. he sat on the rounded, plush pillows near the table. he took a quick look around while name was in the kitchen prepping like a good host should. 

they set a teapot and two cups on the table. these were the cups you two always had drunk from. how surprising! if he was them, he would’ve thrown these mugs as quick as possible. he noticed that they placed naku weeds arrangement as a middle piece. he snorted quietly, 

you always thought the “bad” plants needed love. 

they sat down across from scaramouche, pouring the tea into the two cups; they slid one of the cups to scaramouche. despite their polite actions, he knew they weren’t keen into playing the nice guy approach with him. just like the lighting, they striked him with a stern voice. 

“answer me correctly this time, kunizukushi.” they said, cutting lavender melons into cubes. “why are you here?” 

his pale hand reached for the tea, “can’t i visit an old friend?” he replied. they sighed, 

“seriously, i know you aren’t here for me.” although it was partly true, it still stung them to say that. seeing kunizukushi again upon the lies he’d told to say he would visit soon when he left inazuma for good. he said he didn’t want another betrayal. little did they know, he was planning one, just that he wasn’t affected. they were. 

he looked slimmer than a puppet could be. his eyes were sunken in, seeming tired. does his job even provide him with the daily essentials? …wait. 

they refuse to care for him, not after what he did. the moment he answers why, they will dial the number for the tenryou commission and arrest him quickly. but he looked so pitfiul. so they couldn’t help but brew his favorite tea, jasmine. not too bitter, not too sweet. 

the silence was unbearable for them, as kunizukushi didn’t answer. they’d hope their glare would send him away until they were at the farthest ends of the earth. but thankfully, he broke the ice. vaguely. 

“im here for personal reasons. maybe you’d hear it on the newspaper.” scaramouche jested but they didn’t laugh at his joke. “fine, im here for my work. but besides that, i am here for you.” he knew that they wouldn’t believe him but it was truth. why would he deliberately ignore his objective at work? he arrived at their house for a reason. “why would i ignore my mission to go to your house, name.” he said their name so easily as if it was liquid gold; in contrast, they couldn’t even say his fatui name correctly, only saying his birth name dipped with venom.

“why my house? i’ve heard of the traveler’s adventures and how you encountered them. are you here for similar reasons?” 

“name, i don’t have any lost siblings to find. i was here looking for you.” he admitted but he knew they wouldn’t believe him despite any other sign he could send. he noticed they let out a sm

“you saw me… now go before i call the commission.” they replied. although, they didn’t hesitate to threaten him, he saw their lips tremble, clinging onto every word. 

he scooted a bit closer, bit too close to their face. he could feel their warm breath against his porcelain face. “do you really want to?” 

a beat of silence followed just before they reply to his question. their lips trembled again like it used to when they were about to lie. 

“scaramouche.”

there it is, you’re saying the correct name now. though, considering you, you would call him the balladeer but he’d let it slide. he returned the same tone but sweeter, “name.”

“don’t test me. it’s been over a decade since you came back home. i don’t want to deal with you. i dont want to see you ever again.” 

his indigo brows furrowed, his smirk turned into a frown. you’re afraid of what would happen next. “what do you mean? didn’t you miss me?” 

“i did. i used to…” they refused to make eye contact. “... i used to believe you would come back and come back for me but you never did. i wanted to wait for you but you never came unlike the tides at the shore.” 

scaramouche didn’t speak. 

“please leave before i call the authorities. it’s your last chance, scaramouche.” 

he scuffled, his laugh echoing throughout the halls. he turned away, putting on his facade of confidence, “you should’ve thought twice before saying that.” 

he heard their breath hitch. 

“but alas, i’ll pardon you just this once. but if i see you again, i won’t let you off so easy.” 

after the storm had passed, he was gone, not leaving one trace. they looked out the window, it was for the best for them and him. they rolled on their back, pushing themself down and buried their face into their hands.

i missed you too.

from vidia: this oneshot is based off of my ocs' story but i twisted it to make sense for the story. this is a bit plot holey but please forgive me. thank you for reading. reblogs and shares would be appreciated !

to: @ainnofinway @lovemari to be added to the taglist, fill out this form ! here

[genshin-side-piece]

Maîtresse-en-titre

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+, Yandere themes, Yandere Behavior, Sexual Themes (No Actual Sex), Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Forced Consent, Dark themes, gn reader, My bad writing, Anything Else I Missed

Finally got that Pierro C*cking Capitano out of my head. Enjoy.

A service. A sacrifice. A duty. 

Even as you stood outside the ominous doors to what was the Jester’s domain, your husband's words rang loudly through your mind. An honor above all. That’s what he had called it. To be chosen by the director himself to serve the Fatui in this way. The pride that had reverberated in your husband’s voice had nearly made you sick then. The echoes of it served to further unsettle your stomach now. How could he be proud? How could he be happy that another man wanted you? How could he be pleased that someone else was about to lay his hands on you, and most grievous of all, how could he ask you to go along with it? A stuttering breath slipped past your lips as your eyes dropped to the floor. The concept that your beloved husband, your knight, your savior would ever ask such a thing was nothing short of vile. The vows you had made to him, made to each other were sacrosanct in your mind. They served as an inviolable promise between yourself and Capitano. They spoke of the love and commitment you had made to each other. How could he, despite his righteous nature, cast them aside so easily? The answer to that was simple. The devil who currently held you outside of his door had gotten in your husband’s ear.  

Your entrance to the Snezhnayan court had been a quiet one. Your husband, despite his status, wasn’t much for personal fanfare. Unlike some of his brethren, he had no need for ostentatious carriages or trumpets announcing his arrival. Capitano preferred stealth to openness, calm to chaos, simplicity to complexity. A plain carriage had driven the two of you onto the palace grounds, where you passed by the notice of the crowd who lingered outside the gate. Despite your husband’s good reputation, you had been grateful for their lack of interest. Your poor body wouldn’t have been able to handle dealing with the attention you would have received. The slipping and rocking of the carriage against the icy streets had done little to help the severe bout of motion sickness that you had suffered under since you had left home. Despite numerous pleas to the Hydro Archon for their blessing, the seas hadn’t been kind to you. The ship had spent most of the journey being tossed around like a ball in a tin cup by the waves and storms that had plagued it. As a result, you had spent the better part of your journey in bed, with your husband hanging close to your side. Upon your arrival to the land of ice and snow, Capitano had insisted you be taken to the palace to rest and recover from one journey, before you made a second leg of the trip to his estate in the heart of Snezhnaya’s countryside. In his words, he wanted you happy and well. At the time, you were grateful for his care. Now, you silently wished you had been a tad more observant. If you had, you would have noticed the single star shaped pupil that began to follow you everywhere you would go. 

“Excuse me” The intrusion of a soft voice broke your train of thought. You jumped back slightly, your heart leaping into your throat at the thought of being found lost in your own thoughts. The imposing doors in front of you had opened, and in the space between them, stood a smaller man in a Fatui uniform. He gazed at you with a rather curious expression, utterly confused as to why you were silently standing outside of the director’s apartments, staring at the floor. “Apologies-” Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I-” You didn’t even know what to say or how to excuse it. How could you? What reasonable explanation was there for questioning your own life choices outside of the Jester’s door? 

Those that sought his favor often haunted the hallways leading to his office or the grand space that was the Tsaritsa’s throne room. The dimly lit corridors that lead to his private apartments were devoid of any life. You had no viable reason to be here beyond the actual purpose for which you had been summoned. Hence his curiosity. “I suppose this isn’t the best place to stand.” He gave you a forced smile. “Unfortunately not.” His hands tightened around the edges of the doors. “If you’ve come to speak with the Lord Director, then I’m afraid he’s indisposed. At present, he is expecting an important visitor and has asked not to be disturbed for the remainder of the evening. If you have an emergency, then I can see if there is a harbinger lurking about.” 

A harbinger. There were quite a few nearby. You had passed the rich one and the short one on your way here. They had been discussing some matter of state that you were ignorant of. The new one, who you hadn’t been introduced to, had been sulking about as well. He had been standing a few paces off the short one, presumably ready to intervene should things get too lively with the rich one. Conspicuously absent though, was your husband. It had been your sincerest hope to pass him on your way here, if nothing else than to see him, but you had not. Capitano had been scarce since you had agreed to this little rendezvous. Part of you began to wonder if it was by design. “If there is no emergency-” You turned your focus back to the man in front of you, gently shaking your head. “Then may I be of service?” You hesitated, which wasn’t entirely appreciated on his part. “Not to be rude, but I am on my way to fetch someone. If you have no business here beyond blocking my lord’s doorway, then I ask that you go elsewhere.” The urge to take him up on that offer was strong. Archon help you, if only you could. You would run as far as your legs would carry you and never look back. There was just one issue with it, your husband. You doubted he would appreciate you making a fool out of both of you simply because you were scared of what was waiting for you on the other side of the door. “I-” You took a deep breath, summoning all the courage you had to finally speak to him. “I believe I may be the one you were sent to fetch.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The lord director sent for me this afternoon.”  

“You’re Lord Capitano’s spouse?” He sounded about as impressed as he looked, which wasn’t very. You fidgeted under his gaze, hating how he silently assessed you. Had you been in a better state of mind and not ready to fall apart, you would have scolded him for it. “Finally.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Where have you been? The lord director is most displeased.” You forced the heavy lump that formed in the back of your throat down. It hadn’t been your intention to displease anyone. The fact that you had, didn’t bode well for the remainder of your evening. “For-” He was quick to cut you off. “You’re terribly late. Were you not instructed on the time?”

“I was.” You briefly hesitated, your mind rapidly trying to find some excuse as to why you had tarried. “I got lost.” The excuse was a lame one, but it was the best you could manage considering the man’s harsh stare made your stomach flop around inside of you. “This place is so large. I had to forego the usual tour as I was unwell when I arrived.” The look on his face told you all you needed to know; he didn’t buy it. 

Detailed instructions, including directions, had been provided to you. There had even been an offer for one of Pierro’s assistant’s to show you the way, lest you actually get lost. To claim that as an excuse for your tardiness after turning the guide down was literally the most idiotic thing you could say in the moment, but you had nothing better. Telling him you didn’t want to be here wouldn’t help, nor would admitting the real reason as to why you had been summoned here. Even if he already knew, the idea that you would tell one of Pierro’s lackeys that you were here to bed his superior was too humiliating for words. It was easier to let him think you were an idiot. For the time being, it spared you the blushes of him thinking any worse of you. “I see.” He took a step back, pulling the doors open for you. “Then I trust then that you are aware that should you make him wait in the future due to your own personal incompetence or otherwise that you will suffer the consequences of your actions.” Your heart leapt into your throat at the very thought of the repercussions the Jester could make you suffer, should you displease him again.

The man, who later you learned was named Evgeniy, led you through the dimly lit foyer of Pierro’s apartment and down a small passage to what he described as a sitting room. The room, like the foyer, was unlike the rest of the palace. It possessed the same grandeur as the shining halls of Zapolyarny, but here the gilding here had long faded to a dull shine. The wax of dimming candles coated many of the surfaces that weren’t covered with papers or books, with the large fireplace being the main source of light in the room. The flickering light helped to emphasize the wear on the cold marble floors. Entire paths in the polish had been worn away due to years of use. To you, it seemed that the faded glory of the space reflected the age & experience of the man who occupied it. 

Evgeniy cleared his throat, drawing your attention to a table at the far end of the room. Your eyes took in the piles of papers, refusing to see the large figure hovering over them. It was your rather foolish belief that if you did not acknowledge Pierro’s presence, then he wasn’t really there. It was a belief that you clung to as Pierro lifted his eye from the paper he had been reading, to meet both your and Evgeniy’s gaze.    

“Ah” The annoyed edge that grated against his tone softened as he took you in. “At last.” With a flick of his fingers, Evgeniy bowed, swiftly leaving your side in silence. Your eyes followed the smaller man, silently imploring him to stay, but he didn’t. He gracefully exited the room offering both of you a second low bow before he was gone. “Good evening.” Your head snapped back in Pierro’s general direction, finding that he had moved closer. “I understand you’ve been unwell since arriving in our fair country. Hopefully I’m right in assuming that you’re now on the mend?” You had, but tonight wasn’t really all that good for your recovery. Your stomach felt like it had been tied in a knot and your whole body felt wobbly. Briefly, you considered whether or not that could be your saving grace. You were already as pale as a ghost, you wondered if you could get away with a fake fainting spell to avoid the inevitable. “I-” One look at him told him it was probably best not to try it. He was already annoyed that you had been late. You doubted he would allow you to get away with a bout out illness, real or otherwise. “I am, Lord Director.” A quick bow to him followed. “And you? Are you well?” He gently smiled at, closing the remainder of the small distance between you. “I am faring better than I was ten minutes ago.” You inwardly cringed, forcing an apologetic smile onto your face when he stopped in front of you. “I thought that my illustrious Captain might have changed his mind. He’s been terribly worried over your health. He had concerns you might not be up to the task. How nice to see that wasn’t the case.” You forced a small smile, trying your best not to shake too much when you nodded.

“No, my lo-.” You faltered when he gently reached out, the tips of his fingers brushing against your cheek when he tucked a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Lord.” There had been an excuse prepared. You’d been suffering from a headache, the clothes didn’t suit, your hair didn’t fix, but one stern look from him silenced them all. He neither needed nor wanted them. Why should he, when they wouldn’t change the fact that he finally had you?

Pierro pulled away from you, gesturing for you to take a seat on the small sofa that was situated in front of the fireplace. Between them was a low table with a highly decorated porcelain and metal drink set resting on top of it. As you moved closer, the faint smell of cinnamon and turmeric, mixed with the rich aroma of coffee filled the small space. You perched yourself on the end of the sofa, watching him as he drifted by you to take a seat on the opposite end, near the drink set. “You’re shivering.” The ache in holding your shoulders as stiff as possible had given way to it. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Not when the source of present woes was sitting a foot away from you. “Poor dear, allow me to warm you up.” 

He began pouring the coffee, both of you knowing the cold had nothing to do with your shaking. Still, Pierro seemingly ignored the real cause, choosing only to smirk at you once he had finished with your cup. “I do apologize for calling you so late.” He handed you the ornate cup, his gloved fingers caressing the tips of yours. Much to his amusement, you were quick to pull back, clutching the warm porcelain to your chest. “I had intended a dinner for you.” He turned away from you again, busying himself with his own cup. “It’s fitting for the first night we’ll spend together, that we have dinner first, but I do not yet know your preferences. I thought to serve you some Snezhnayan delicacies, but regrettably I lost track of time. Something came up that stole my attention from my plans for this evening.” You had to silently wonder if it was the same thing that stolen Capitano from you this afternoon. He had promised to visit with you after you had agreed to this little fiasco, only for him to back out at the last moment. You had been devastated. His apology for his abrupt cancellation had come in the form of the outfit he had wanted you to wear for tonight, as well as a note that simply told you to do your best. “I do hope coffee is an acceptable substitute for now.” He finished pouring, setting the pot to one side. 

Pierro looked up, his eye connecting with yours once again. It was oddly nice to see Pierro’s face, even if he was terribly frightening. The one quality you disliked about your husband was that he never allowed you to see what was hidden under his mask. You spent all your time speaking to a dark void. During your swift courtship, it had made him difficult to read. You had to learn his moods and preferences based on his voice. Not the easiest thing, considering he rarely showed any emotion beyond calm. It had been your hope that perhaps he would let you see his face once you were married, but that wasn’t to be. He only chose to remove his mask when he was assured you were asleep or when he opted to employ a blindfold to shield your eyes in the waking hours. You had pleaded with him to reconsider both courses. It would make things easier between you if he did, but he always gently refused. You were told that the discomfort regarding his mask was temporary. Once the two of you arrived in Snezhnaya, it wouldn’t be a problem. You learned what he meant by that upon said arrival. Your life together at sea quickly became a life lived separately on land. Capitano’s presence in your life had been reduced to that of a dark spector in the doorway of your bedroom bidding you good morning and good night. Your days were empty or at least devoid of his person. Efforts to see him were in vain. His assistants and secretaries all fed you the same excuse. He was far too busy. You were always asked to return to the apartment by way of the path that took you past the director’s office and wait for your husband to return home. 

Pierro’s pursuit of you was in no way subtle. It didn’t need to be. As the Director of the Fatui, the Jester had carte blanche to do as he pleased. The only person that could hope to reprimand him was the Tsaritsa, and even then it was doubtful that it would ever happen. He had her wrapped around his little finger, just as he did everyone else. It was testament to how charismatic he could be. You almost wished you could fall under the same spell the others had, at least then your present situation might be tolerable. 

“You are so very lovely.” His voice brought you back to reality. “Perhaps once Capitano has departed for his next mission I can make it up to you.” There was an odd smile that ghosted its way across his pale lips. His eye left yours, traveling over your exposed neck and down across your shoulders. “We’ll know each other better by then.” You didn’t pay his gaze much attention, because your mind had focused on one singular thing, the word departed. You couldn’t stop what  color you had from leaving your face. “He’s-” You nervously swallowed, forcing the bile that had shot its way up into your throat back down. “He’s leaving?” Somehow, you managed to force out a little laugh. “We uh -” Your lips pressed themselves together into a hard thin line before you finished your thought. “We only just arrived.” In your mind, the stay at the palace was supposed to be temporary. “Surely you’re referring to us journeying to his estate in the country.” And not that you were being abandoned to Pierro’s care.

Together, you had planned to see the sights of Snezhnaya with your beloved husband. He had promised you so many things to make up for the rather botched and rushed wedding you had had. One of them had been a proper honeymoon of sorts. The rough nights at sea had been calmed with dreams of morning rides through the snow at his estate, while the afternoons would be spent by the hearth of the fire as he told you stories of battles won. Now all of that was reduced to ashes at the mention that Capitano was going away again, without you. Your horror at the thought had to be apparent. Why else would Pierro’s gentle chuckle resonated in your ear? “How terribly awkward.” The Jester’s weight shifted and you felt him inch closer. “I would have hoped he would have told you, but perhaps you didn’t see him before I sent for you.” In the back of your mind, you knew Pierro had insured you hadn’t heard, but for whatever reason you tried to tell yourself that’s not what had happened. In Capitano’s haste to apologize for canceling your plans, he had forgotten to mention the trip. “You have my sincerest apologies my cecilia, but this can’t be helped.” He ran a cool hand over your face, ripping you away from your thoughts. The coffee cup nearly flew out of your hand, but Pierro was quick to steady it with his other hand, preventing it from spilling all over your clothes. He held you like that, the warmth of his hand radiating through his gloves. His fingers took it upon themselves to stroke the back of your hand, while his smile grew. “I was advised you can be a bit jumpy. You needn't worry though.” His free hand came to rest on your shoulder. “It will only be for a few months. You’ll have me to keep you warm while he’s gone.”

There was something in his tone that made your stomach roll. The inference that this wasn’t a one time thing nearly suffocated you on the spot. All at once, everything became too much. The air was too thick, the room was too hot, his hands on your body were too heavy, he was too close. Your mind, along with the room, spun as the panic that you had tried to quell finally took hold of you. The cup in your hand made it’s way to the table beside you as you tore yourself away from the sofa. He tried to grab hold of you, but his fingers weren’t fast enough. You managed to slip away, bolting for the nearest wall. It was your hope to put as much room between you and him as possible, without trying to get past him to get to the door.

“I can’t do this.” You did your best to calm your ragged breathing and pounding heart, but nothing helped. All you could do was stand there and toy with your fingers as you gazed at him with what you felt was absolute agony written across your face. It was your hope that your own internal conflict over the situation would be apparent enough that he might take pity on you and excuse you for the evening. Unfortunately, the Jester wasn’t that magnanimous in his victory. The determination to claim you far outweighed any emotional discomfort you might be having at the moment. So much so, that he met your outburst with complete apathy. He even dared to let his amusement at your actions show when a small smirk played across his thin lips. It was almost as if he was expecting it to happen. It was then that you stupidly realized he had. 

According to many, the man in front of you was eternal. The Fatui had been born by his hands centuries ago, ripped from the ashes of the old world and built using the remains of his homeland. In the time since the Fatui’s founding, Pierro had built himself into a formidable figure. Mysterious and daunting at every turn. He was a weaver of destinies, a decider of fates and a ruler of harbingers. Snezhnaya’s very soul laid in the palm of his hand. Sadly, your soul and your whole future laid in the palm of his hand. He could decide it here and now and no one could save you from it. He wouldn’t even need to call the guard. Pierro was more than capable of handling you on his own. It would be nothing for him to force you into whatever fate he decided, should he need too. 

A chill went down your spine, causing your whole body to shiver. It was hard not to wonder how many other individuals had found themselves in this same position you found yourself in now? How many of them had been willing? If they had been resistant like you, what had been done to make them willing?  He sat where had you left him, intently studying you with that cold, cutting stare of his. The only sound that filled the room was the crackle of the large fire as it buried ominously on the other side of the room. You noticed the way the light from the flames danced their way across his handsome features. You saw the demonic shapes and shadows that they cast, giving the Jester a devilish appearance. The malevolence reflected in the crystal blue orb only seemed to emphasize it even more. “I- I love my husband.” The words spilled out in a thick, jumbled mess as you did your best to stop the tears that were now pricking at the corners of your eyes. Neither had any real effect. Pierro sat as still as a statue, letting you have what he would later describe to you as your little tantrum. 

For now though, duty be damned. You didn’t want to be here. The vows that you had made, while rushed, had been spoken with your entire heart. You had sworn on the altar of your archon to be faithful to your husband. To break that vow, even with Capitano’s consent, felt wrong. The entire situation felt wrong. Surely he had to know that. “You have my sincerest apologies, my lord, but this isn’t right. This isn’t me.” He remained silent, still holding you fast with his gaze for a moment or two longer before he finally responded. “New brides really are the sweetest of flowers. How fortunate Capitano is to have found himself such a lovely one amidst the wilds of Teyvat.” You furrowed your brows in utter confusion. “I’m sure your assertions of love and devotion will warm whatever heart he may have.” But it would do nothing to save you from Pierro. “Perhaps it will be enough to spare you from his disappointment when I tell him you refused me.” A light, breathy laugh broke that thought. “But then again, he does hate being disappointed, almost as much as he hates dereliction of duty.” You were beginning to hate that word almost as much as you hated how it was being used. It wasn’t your duty to be here anymore than it was your duty to mop the floors or light the fires. Your presence here was the result of Pierro’s control over his subordinates and nothing more. The concept that he expected you to pleasure him as if it was an act of service was revolting. “I suppose he could spare you his wrath since you are his most beloved spouse. After all, your refusal is coming from a place of fidelity. I imagine he is honor bound to be obliging.” He paused for what you assumed was dramatic effect. “But I would doubt it.” You forgot your own discomfort long enough to ask the one question you shouldn’t have asked. In part, because you had to live with the reality of the answer. “Wrath?” Capitano had never once raised a hand to you. The thought of him even trying sent another shiver down your spine. He had always been deliberate with his touch. Capitano understood his strength. It was nothing for him to leave marks or bruises without trying. It would be nothing for him to strike you dead should he try to. “He would never-” The confidence in that statement failed when Pierro laughed at it. The words to finish it died on your tongue. 

Slowly, the older man stood, groaning slightly as his body shifted despite its stiffness. It was the first indication that you had seen that Pierro might possess some human qualities. “Your husband believes in the fulfillment of one's duty, regardless of whether you view it as personally honorable or not. Service to the Fatui, Service to the Tsaritsa-” Service to the director. “Come before everything else. He will not tolerate failure where it is concerned. He expects nothing short of perfection in his soldiers and he will expect nothing less of you.” Orders were orders. “Should I tell him that you have displeased me, then I have little doubt he would do all that he could to correct it.” Your eyes dropped to the floor at the thought of that. You used the last scraps of your denial to tell yourself that your husband wouldn’t go that far, that he wouldn’t force you into another man’s bed, but your presence here was already proof that he would. You hadn’t been begrudgingly sent as some kind of sacrifice to Pierro’s wanton desires, you had been gift wrapped in the finest Capitano could afford and presented with pride to the director like a prize at a fair. Despite his endless professions of love, in the end, your husband had been all too happy to give you away to a man he deemed his superior. “I-” Your mind spun at the possibilities of what could happen if you didn’t do as you had been told. For the first time, you saw the man your parents had seen. They had told you he was dangerous. They had warned you he would bring you nothing but ruin. They had done all that could to stop you from making what was now the biggest mistake of your life, but you hadn’t listened. Instead, you stupidly believed you were getting your promised happy ending. You had run away with him, marrying him on the bow of the ship that had brought you here. You had laid with him night after night dreaming of a brighter future. You had prided yourself on being so smart. How could you have not seen that your shining knight wasn’t your savior, he was your villain? 

The sound you made was inhuman as your back collided with the cool wall behind you. The scratchiness of the wallpaper against your neck and shoulders exacerbated the waves of panic that were shooting themselves through your body. Across the way, you heard the faint sound of Pierro’s boots shuffling their way across the plush area rug as he closed the gap between you two. “Perhaps my cecilia is seeing the reality of their situation.” He stopped an arms length away from you, the tips of his ornate boot barely coming into view. “If you are, then I may not have to tell your husband about your misstep after all.” You looked up at him, blinking back the tears that freely spilled over the apples of your cheeks. “Your concerns regarding the morality of the situation have been noted.” And promptly ignored. “Since this is our first night together, I will give you a choice.” Or at least the illusion of one. In truth, there was only one choice and it had already been made for you, by two men who were not you. 

You leaned against the wall for support, watching his long fingers as they reached into his side jacket pocket for something. “You may choose to take my hand and willingly follow me to my bed. If you do, then I can be persuaded to forget your hesitancy regarding this matter, provided you are obedient from now on.” You swallowed, continuing to stare up at him. “Or you may drink this.” He produced a small vial from his pocket, holding it up with two fingers. “It will render you unconscious-” A small chuckle slipped past his lips. “Or at the very least render you incompetent enough to where you won’t remember this night. But-” He drew the moment out for his own personal amusement. “It will render you piliant to whatever punishment I deem is fit for you.” Much his delight, you failed to stop the small whimper that had been building in your throat from escaping. The word punishment added a whole new level of terror to an already frightening situation. Pierro wouldn’t punish you lightly. While he had enjoyed your skittishness in the beginning, you had clearly tried his patience. Men like him didn’t enjoy being tested. So far, he had been generous with you, but you knew it wouldn’t continue. Pierro commanded loyalty, he commanded respect. His expectation was that you would fall in line and do as you were told. If you disobeyed, he would make sure you would never do it again; either by his own hand or via Capitano’s. 

“I should warn you though.” He gave you a cruel smile, spinning the small vial between his lithe fingers. “Should you opt for the potion, I will make up for your lack of memory come the morning.” There was another cold laugh that followed that. Your only reaction was to shrink back, pressing yourself further into the wall. What should you do? What could you do? Take his hand in the hope that he hurt you less tonight versus the pain you could feel come the morning? Then there was your husband to consider. What would you face once you returned to your shared apartment? How would Capitano cope with the idea that you had behaved badly? Would he be proud that you had done all you could to remain faithful, despite his very clear consent, or would you face further punishment because you had proved an embarrassment to him? 

A new kind of horror filled you.  

You couldn’t help but falter, the lump in your throat feeling as if it would choke the very life out of you. Your knees failed, buckling under your own weight. You didn’t register that you were on the floor, nor did you register that Pierro had followed you, kneeling next to you as the reality of your situation crushed the last of your resistance under its weight. “Come now child.” The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. He tried to mask it with concern, but it was still there. He had enjoyed watching you break right before his eyes, just as he enjoyed the fact that the game between you was over. Now all he had to do was take you how he wanted you. 

Helplessly you watch as Pierro reached out, brushing the tips of his gloved fingers over the line of your jaw, testing the proverbial waters. You flinched, but you didn’t pull away from him, earning a hummed approval. There was no point in resisting him. If you ran, you would be stopped. If you screamed, you would be silenced. If you fought, you would be punished. There was no escape. All he would allow you was to submit to him, willingly or otherwise.

[genshinsidepiece]

Maîtresse-en-titre

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+, Yandere themes, Yandere Behavior, Sexual Themes (No Actual Sex), Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Forced Consent, Dark themes, gn reader, My bad writing, Anything Else I Missed

Posting this here as well, just because I think the other blog got shadowbanned. Anyway, finally got that Pierro C*cking Capitano out of my head. Enjoy.

A service. A sacrifice. A duty. 

Even as you stood outside the ominous doors to what was the Jester’s domain, your husband's words rang loudly through your mind. An honor above all. That’s what he had called it. To be chosen by the director himself to serve the Fatui in this way. The pride that had reverberated in your husband’s voice had nearly made you sick then. The echoes of it served to further unsettle your stomach now. How could he be proud? How could he be happy that another man wanted you? How could he be pleased that someone else was about to lay his hands on you, and most grievous of all, how could he ask you to go along with it? A stuttering breath slipped past your lips as your eyes dropped to the floor. The concept that your beloved husband, your knight, your savior would ever ask such a thing was nothing short of vile. The vows you had made to him, made to each other were sacrosanct in your mind. They served as an inviolable promise between yourself and Capitano. They spoke of the love and commitment you had made to each other. How could he, despite his righteous nature, cast them aside so easily? The answer to that was simple. The devil who currently held you outside of his door had gotten in your husband’s ear.  

Your entrance to the Snezhnayan court had been a quiet one. Your husband, despite his status, wasn’t much for personal fanfare. Unlike some of his brethren, he had no need for ostentatious carriages or trumpets announcing his arrival. Capitano preferred stealth to openness, calm to chaos, simplicity to complexity. A plain carriage had driven the two of you onto the palace grounds, where you passed by the notice of the crowd who lingered outside the gate. Despite your husband’s good reputation, you had been grateful for their lack of interest. Your poor body wouldn’t have been able to handle dealing with the attention you would have received. The slipping and rocking of the carriage against the icy streets had done little to help the severe bout of motion sickness that you had suffered under since you had left home. Despite numerous pleas to the Hydro Archon for their blessing, the seas hadn’t been kind to you. The ship had spent most of the journey being tossed around like a ball in a tin cup by the waves and storms that had plagued it. As a result, you had spent the better part of your journey in bed, with your husband hanging close to your side. Upon your arrival to the land of ice and snow, Capitano had insisted you be taken to the palace to rest and recover from one journey, before you made a second leg of the trip to his estate in the heart of Snezhnaya’s countryside. In his words, he wanted you happy and well. At the time, you were grateful for his care. Now, you silently wished you had been a tad more observant. If you had, you would have noticed the single star shaped pupil that began to follow you everywhere you would go. 

“Excuse me” The intrusion of a soft voice broke your train of thought. You jumped back slightly, your heart leaping into your throat at the thought of being found lost in your own thoughts. The imposing doors in front of you had opened, and in the space between them, stood a smaller man in a Fatui uniform. He gazed at you with a rather curious expression, utterly confused as to why you were silently standing outside of the director’s apartments, staring at the floor. “Apologies-” Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I-” You didn’t even know what to say or how to excuse it. How could you? What reasonable explanation was there for questioning your own life choices outside of the Jester’s door? 

Those that sought his favor often haunted the hallways leading to his office or the grand space that was the Tsaritsa’s throne room. The dimly lit corridors that lead to his private apartments were devoid of any life. You had no viable reason to be here beyond the actual purpose for which you had been summoned. Hence his curiosity. “I suppose this isn’t the best place to stand.” He gave you a forced smile. “Unfortunately not.” His hands tightened around the edges of the doors. “If you’ve come to speak with the Lord Director, then I’m afraid he’s indisposed. At present, he is expecting an important visitor and has asked not to be disturbed for the remainder of the evening. If you have an emergency, then I can see if there is a harbinger lurking about.” 

A harbinger. There were quite a few nearby. You had passed the rich one and the short one on your way here. They had been discussing some matter of state that you were ignorant of. The new one, who you hadn’t been introduced to, had been sulking about as well. He had been standing a few paces off the short one, presumably ready to intervene should things get too lively with the rich one. Conspicuously absent though, was your husband. It had been your sincerest hope to pass him on your way here, if nothing else than to see him, but you had not. Capitano had been scarce since you had agreed to this little rendezvous. Part of you began to wonder if it was by design. “If there is no emergency-” You turned your focus back to the man in front of you, gently shaking your head. “Then may I be of service?” You hesitated, which wasn’t entirely appreciated on his part. “Not to be rude, but I am on my way to fetch someone. If you have no business here beyond blocking my lord’s doorway, then I ask that you go elsewhere.” The urge to take him up on that offer was strong. Archon help you, if only you could. You would run as far as your legs would carry you and never look back. There was just one issue with it, your husband. You doubted he would appreciate you making a fool out of both of you simply because you were scared of what was waiting for you on the other side of the door. “I-” You took a deep breath, summoning all the courage you had to finally speak to him. “I believe I may be the one you were sent to fetch.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The lord director sent for me this afternoon.”  

“You’re Lord Capitano’s spouse?” He sounded about as impressed as he looked, which wasn’t very. You fidgeted under his gaze, hating how he silently assessed you. Had you been in a better state of mind and not ready to fall apart, you would have scolded him for it. “Finally.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Where have you been? The lord director is most displeased.” You forced the heavy lump that formed in the back of your throat down. It hadn’t been your intention to displease anyone. The fact that you had, didn’t bode well for the remainder of your evening. “For-” He was quick to cut you off. “You’re terribly late. Were you not instructed on the time?”

“I was.” You briefly hesitated, your mind rapidly trying to find some excuse as to why you had tarried. “I got lost.” The excuse was a lame one, but it was the best you could manage considering the man’s harsh stare made your stomach flop around inside of you. “This place is so large. I had to forego the usual tour as I was unwell when I arrived.” The look on his face told you all you needed to know; he didn’t buy it. 

Detailed instructions, including directions, had been provided to you. There had even been an offer for one of Pierro’s assistant’s to show you the way, lest you actually get lost. To claim that as an excuse for your tardiness after turning the guide down was literally the most idiotic thing you could say in the moment, but you had nothing better. Telling him you didn’t want to be here wouldn’t help, nor would admitting the real reason as to why you had been summoned here. Even if he already knew, the idea that you would tell one of Pierro’s lackeys that you were here to bed his superior was too humiliating for words. It was easier to let him think you were an idiot. For the time being, it spared you the blushes of him thinking any worse of you. “I see.” He took a step back, pulling the doors open for you. “Then I trust then that you are aware that should you make him wait in the future due to your own personal incompetence or otherwise that you will suffer the consequences of your actions.” Your heart leapt into your throat at the very thought of the repercussions the Jester could make you suffer, should you displease him again.

The man, who later you learned was named Evgeniy, led you through the dimly lit foyer of Pierro’s apartment and down a small passage to what he described as a sitting room. The room, like the foyer, was unlike the rest of the palace. It possessed the same grandeur as the shining halls of Zapolyarny, but here the gilding here had long faded to a dull shine. The wax of dimming candles coated many of the surfaces that weren’t covered with papers or books, with the large fireplace being the main source of light in the room. The flickering light helped to emphasize the wear on the cold marble floors. Entire paths in the polish had been worn away due to years of use. To you, it seemed that the faded glory of the space reflected the age & experience of the man who occupied it. 

Evgeniy cleared his throat, drawing your attention to a table at the far end of the room. Your eyes took in the piles of papers, refusing to see the large figure hovering over them. It was your rather foolish belief that if you did not acknowledge Pierro’s presence, then he wasn’t really there. It was a belief that you clung to as Pierro lifted his eye from the paper he had been reading, to meet both your and Evgeniy’s gaze.    

“Ah” The annoyed edge that grated against his tone softened as he took you in. “At last.” With a flick of his fingers, Evgeniy bowed, swiftly leaving your side in silence. Your eyes followed the smaller man, silently imploring him to stay, but he didn’t. He gracefully exited the room offering both of you a second low bow before he was gone. “Good evening.” Your head snapped back in Pierro’s general direction, finding that he had moved closer. “I understand you’ve been unwell since arriving in our fair country. Hopefully I’m right in assuming that you’re now on the mend?” You had, but tonight wasn’t really all that good for your recovery. Your stomach felt like it had been tied in a knot and your whole body felt wobbly. Briefly, you considered whether or not that could be your saving grace. You were already as pale as a ghost, you wondered if you could get away with a fake fainting spell to avoid the inevitable. “I-” One look at him told him it was probably best not to try it. He was already annoyed that you had been late. You doubted he would allow you to get away with a bout out illness, real or otherwise. “I am, Lord Director.” A quick bow to him followed. “And you? Are you well?” He gently smiled at, closing the remainder of the small distance between you. “I am faring better than I was ten minutes ago.” You inwardly cringed, forcing an apologetic smile onto your face when he stopped in front of you. “I thought that my illustrious Captain might have changed his mind. He’s been terribly worried over your health. He had concerns you might not be up to the task. How nice to see that wasn’t the case.” You forced a small smile, trying your best not to shake too much when you nodded.

“No, my lo-.” You faltered when he gently reached out, the tips of his fingers brushing against your cheek when he tucked a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Lord.” There had been an excuse prepared. You’d been suffering from a headache, the clothes didn’t suit, your hair didn’t fix, but one stern look from him silenced them all. He neither needed nor wanted them. Why should he, when they wouldn’t change the fact that he finally had you?

Pierro pulled away from you, gesturing for you to take a seat on the small sofa that was situated in front of the fireplace. Between them was a low table with a highly decorated porcelain and metal drink set resting on top of it. As you moved closer, the faint smell of cinnamon and turmeric, mixed with the rich aroma of coffee filled the small space. You perched yourself on the end of the sofa, watching him as he drifted by you to take a seat on the opposite end, near the drink set. “You’re shivering.” The ache in holding your shoulders as stiff as possible had given way to it. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Not when the source of present woes was sitting a foot away from you. “Poor dear, allow me to warm you up.” 

He began pouring the coffee, both of you knowing the cold had nothing to do with your shaking. Still, Pierro seemingly ignored the real cause, choosing only to smirk at you once he had finished with your cup. “I do apologize for calling you so late.” He handed you the ornate cup, his gloved fingers caressing the tips of yours. Much to his amusement, you were quick to pull back, clutching the warm porcelain to your chest. “I had intended a dinner for you.” He turned away from you again, busying himself with his own cup. “It’s fitting for the first night we’ll spend together, that we have dinner first, but I do not yet know your preferences. I thought to serve you some Snezhnayan delicacies, but regrettably I lost track of time. Something came up that stole my attention from my plans for this evening.” You had to silently wonder if it was the same thing that stolen Capitano from you this afternoon. He had promised to visit with you after you had agreed to this little fiasco, only for him to back out at the last moment. You had been devastated. His apology for his abrupt cancellation had come in the form of the outfit he had wanted you to wear for tonight, as well as a note that simply told you to do your best. “I do hope coffee is an acceptable substitute for now.” He finished pouring, setting the pot to one side. 

Pierro looked up, his eye connecting with yours once again. It was oddly nice to see Pierro’s face, even if he was terribly frightening. The one quality you disliked about your husband was that he never allowed you to see what was hidden under his mask. You spent all your time speaking to a dark void. During your swift courtship, it had made him difficult to read. You had to learn his moods and preferences based on his voice. Not the easiest thing, considering he rarely showed any emotion beyond calm. It had been your hope that perhaps he would let you see his face once you were married, but that wasn’t to be. He only chose to remove his mask when he was assured you were asleep or when he opted to employ a blindfold to shield your eyes in the waking hours. You had pleaded with him to reconsider both courses. It would make things easier between you if he did, but he always gently refused. You were told that the discomfort regarding his mask was temporary. Once the two of you arrived in Snezhnaya, it wouldn’t be a problem. You learned what he meant by that upon said arrival. Your life together at sea quickly became a life lived separately on land. Capitano’s presence in your life had been reduced to that of a dark spector in the doorway of your bedroom bidding you good morning and good night. Your days were empty or at least devoid of his person. Efforts to see him were in vain. His assistants and secretaries all fed you the same excuse. He was far too busy. You were always asked to return to the apartment by way of the path that took you past the director’s office and wait for your husband to return home. 

Pierro’s pursuit of you was in no way subtle. It didn’t need to be. As the Director of the Fatui, the Jester had carte blanche to do as he pleased. The only person that could hope to reprimand him was the Tsaritsa, and even then it was doubtful that it would ever happen. He had her wrapped around his little finger, just as he did everyone else. It was testament to how charismatic he could be. You almost wished you could fall under the same spell the others had, at least then your present situation might be tolerable. 

“You are so very lovely.” His voice brought you back to reality. “Perhaps once Capitano has departed for his next mission I can make it up to you.” There was an odd smile that ghosted its way across his pale lips. His eye left yours, traveling over your exposed neck and down across your shoulders. “We’ll know each other better by then.” You didn’t pay his gaze much attention, because your mind had focused on one singular thing, the word departed. You couldn’t stop what  color you had from leaving your face. “He’s-” You nervously swallowed, forcing the bile that had shot its way up into your throat back down. “He’s leaving?” Somehow, you managed to force out a little laugh. “We uh -” Your lips pressed themselves together into a hard thin line before you finished your thought. “We only just arrived.” In your mind, the stay at the palace was supposed to be temporary. “Surely you’re referring to us journeying to his estate in the country.” And not that you were being abandoned to Pierro’s care.

Together, you had planned to see the sights of Snezhnaya with your beloved husband. He had promised you so many things to make up for the rather botched and rushed wedding you had had. One of them had been a proper honeymoon of sorts. The rough nights at sea had been calmed with dreams of morning rides through the snow at his estate, while the afternoons would be spent by the hearth of the fire as he told you stories of battles won. Now all of that was reduced to ashes at the mention that Capitano was going away again, without you. Your horror at the thought had to be apparent. Why else would Pierro’s gentle chuckle resonated in your ear? “How terribly awkward.” The Jester’s weight shifted and you felt him inch closer. “I would have hoped he would have told you, but perhaps you didn’t see him before I sent for you.” In the back of your mind, you knew Pierro had insured you hadn’t heard, but for whatever reason you tried to tell yourself that’s not what had happened. In Capitano’s haste to apologize for canceling your plans, he had forgotten to mention the trip. “You have my sincerest apologies my cecilia, but this can’t be helped.” He ran a cool hand over your face, ripping you away from your thoughts. The coffee cup nearly flew out of your hand, but Pierro was quick to steady it with his other hand, preventing it from spilling all over your clothes. He held you like that, the warmth of his hand radiating through his gloves. His fingers took it upon themselves to stroke the back of your hand, while his smile grew. “I was advised you can be a bit jumpy. You needn't worry though.” His free hand came to rest on your shoulder. “It will only be for a few months. You’ll have me to keep you warm while he’s gone.”

There was something in his tone that made your stomach roll. The inference that this wasn’t a one time thing nearly suffocated you on the spot. All at once, everything became too much. The air was too thick, the room was too hot, his hands on your body were too heavy, he was too close. Your mind, along with the room, spun as the panic that you had tried to quell finally took hold of you. The cup in your hand made it’s way to the table beside you as you tore yourself away from the sofa. He tried to grab hold of you, but his fingers weren’t fast enough. You managed to slip away, bolting for the nearest wall. It was your hope to put as much room between you and him as possible, without trying to get past him to get to the door.

“I can’t do this.” You did your best to calm your ragged breathing and pounding heart, but nothing helped. All you could do was stand there and toy with your fingers as you gazed at him with what you felt was absolute agony written across your face. It was your hope that your own internal conflict over the situation would be apparent enough that he might take pity on you and excuse you for the evening. Unfortunately, the Jester wasn’t that magnanimous in his victory. The determination to claim you far outweighed any emotional discomfort you might be having at the moment. So much so, that he met your outburst with complete apathy. He even dared to let his amusement at your actions show when a small smirk played across his thin lips. It was almost as if he was expecting it to happen. It was then that you stupidly realized he had. 

According to many, the man in front of you was eternal. The Fatui had been born by his hands centuries ago, ripped from the ashes of the old world and built using the remains of his homeland. In the time since the Fatui’s founding, Pierro had built himself into a formidable figure. Mysterious and daunting at every turn. He was a weaver of destinies, a decider of fates and a ruler of harbingers. Snezhnaya’s very soul laid in the palm of his hand. Sadly, your soul and your whole future laid in the palm of his hand. He could decide it here and now and no one could save you from it. He wouldn’t even need to call the guard. Pierro was more than capable of handling you on his own. It would be nothing for him to force you into whatever fate he decided, should he need too. 

A chill went down your spine, causing your whole body to shiver. It was hard not to wonder how many other individuals had found themselves in this same position you found yourself in now? How many of them had been willing? If they had been resistant like you, what had been done to make them willing?  He sat where had you left him, intently studying you with that cold, cutting stare of his. The only sound that filled the room was the crackle of the large fire as it buried ominously on the other side of the room. You noticed the way the light from the flames danced their way across his handsome features. You saw the demonic shapes and shadows that they cast, giving the Jester a devilish appearance. The malevolence reflected in the crystal blue orb only seemed to emphasize it even more. “I- I love my husband.” The words spilled out in a thick, jumbled mess as you did your best to stop the tears that were now pricking at the corners of your eyes. Neither had any real effect. Pierro sat as still as a statue, letting you have what he would later describe to you as your little tantrum. 

For now though, duty be damned. You didn’t want to be here. The vows that you had made, while rushed, had been spoken with your entire heart. You had sworn on the altar of your archon to be faithful to your husband. To break that vow, even with Capitano’s consent, felt wrong. The entire situation felt wrong. Surely he had to know that. “You have my sincerest apologies, my lord, but this isn’t right. This isn’t me.” He remained silent, still holding you fast with his gaze for a moment or two longer before he finally responded. “New brides really are the sweetest of flowers. How fortunate Capitano is to have found himself such a lovely one amidst the wilds of Teyvat.” You furrowed your brows in utter confusion. “I’m sure your assertions of love and devotion will warm whatever heart he may have.” But it would do nothing to save you from Pierro. “Perhaps it will be enough to spare you from his disappointment when I tell him you refused me.” A light, breathy laugh broke that thought. “But then again, he does hate being disappointed, almost as much as he hates dereliction of duty.” You were beginning to hate that word almost as much as you hated how it was being used. It wasn’t your duty to be here anymore than it was your duty to mop the floors or light the fires. Your presence here was the result of Pierro’s control over his subordinates and nothing more. The concept that he expected you to pleasure him as if it was an act of service was revolting. “I suppose he could spare you his wrath since you are his most beloved spouse. After all, your refusal is coming from a place of fidelity. I imagine he is honor bound to be obliging.” He paused for what you assumed was dramatic effect. “But I would doubt it.” You forgot your own discomfort long enough to ask the one question you shouldn’t have asked. In part, because you had to live with the reality of the answer. “Wrath?” Capitano had never once raised a hand to you. The thought of him even trying sent another shiver down your spine. He had always been deliberate with his touch. Capitano understood his strength. It was nothing for him to leave marks or bruises without trying. It would be nothing for him to strike you dead should he try to. “He would never-” The confidence in that statement failed when Pierro laughed at it. The words to finish it died on your tongue. 

Slowly, the older man stood, groaning slightly as his body shifted despite its stiffness. It was the first indication that you had seen that Pierro might possess some human qualities. “Your husband believes in the fulfillment of one's duty, regardless of whether you view it as personally honorable or not. Service to the Fatui, Service to the Tsaritsa-” Service to the director. “Come before everything else. He will not tolerate failure where it is concerned. He expects nothing short of perfection in his soldiers and he will expect nothing less of you.” Orders were orders. “Should I tell him that you have displeased me, then I have little doubt he would do all that he could to correct it.” Your eyes dropped to the floor at the thought of that. You used the last scraps of your denial to tell yourself that your husband wouldn’t go that far, that he wouldn’t force you into another man’s bed, but your presence here was already proof that he would. You hadn’t been begrudgingly sent as some kind of sacrifice to Pierro’s wanton desires, you had been gift wrapped in the finest Capitano could afford and presented with pride to the director like a prize at a fair. Despite his endless professions of love, in the end, your husband had been all too happy to give you away to a man he deemed his superior. “I-” Your mind spun at the possibilities of what could happen if you didn’t do as you had been told. For the first time, you saw the man your parents had seen. They had told you he was dangerous. They had warned you he would bring you nothing but ruin. They had done all that could to stop you from making what was now the biggest mistake of your life, but you hadn’t listened. Instead, you stupidly believed you were getting your promised happy ending. You had run away with him, marrying him on the bow of the ship that had brought you here. You had laid with him night after night dreaming of a brighter future. You had prided yourself on being so smart. How could you have not seen that your shining knight wasn’t your savior, he was your villain? 

The sound you made was inhuman as your back collided with the cool wall behind you. The scratchiness of the wallpaper against your neck and shoulders exacerbated the waves of panic that were shooting themselves through your body. Across the way, you heard the faint sound of Pierro’s boots shuffling their way across the plush area rug as he closed the gap between you two. “Perhaps my cecilia is seeing the reality of their situation.” He stopped an arms length away from you, the tips of his ornate boot barely coming into view. “If you are, then I may not have to tell your husband about your misstep after all.” You looked up at him, blinking back the tears that freely spilled over the apples of your cheeks. “Your concerns regarding the morality of the situation have been noted.” And promptly ignored. “Since this is our first night together, I will give you a choice.” Or at least the illusion of one. In truth, there was only one choice and it had already been made for you, by two men who were not you. 

You leaned against the wall for support, watching his long fingers as they reached into his side jacket pocket for something. “You may choose to take my hand and willingly follow me to my bed. If you do, then I can be persuaded to forget your hesitancy regarding this matter, provided you are obedient from now on.” You swallowed, continuing to stare up at him. “Or you may drink this.” He produced a small vial from his pocket, holding it up with two fingers. “It will render you unconscious-” A small chuckle slipped past his lips. “Or at the very least render you incompetent enough to where you won’t remember this night. But-” He drew the moment out for his own personal amusement. “It will render you piliant to whatever punishment I deem is fit for you.” Much his delight, you failed to stop the small whimper that had been building in your throat from escaping. The word punishment added a whole new level of terror to an already frightening situation. Pierro wouldn’t punish you lightly. While he had enjoyed your skittishness in the beginning, you had clearly tried his patience. Men like him didn’t enjoy being tested. So far, he had been generous with you, but you knew it wouldn’t continue. Pierro commanded loyalty, he commanded respect. His expectation was that you would fall in line and do as you were told. If you disobeyed, he would make sure you would never do it again; either by his own hand or via Capitano’s. 

“I should warn you though.” He gave you a cruel smile, spinning the small vial between his lithe fingers. “Should you opt for the potion, I will make up for your lack of memory come the morning.” There was another cold laugh that followed that. Your only reaction was to shrink back, pressing yourself further into the wall. What should you do? What could you do? Take his hand in the hope that he hurt you less tonight versus the pain you could feel come the morning? Then there was your husband to consider. What would you face once you returned to your shared apartment? How would Capitano cope with the idea that you had behaved badly? Would he be proud that you had done all you could to remain faithful, despite his very clear consent, or would you face further punishment because you had proved an embarrassment to him? 

A new kind of horror filled you.  

You couldn’t help but falter, the lump in your throat feeling as if it would choke the very life out of you. Your knees failed, buckling under your own weight. You didn’t register that you were on the floor, nor did you register that Pierro had followed you, kneeling next to you as the reality of your situation crushed the last of your resistance under its weight. “Come now child.” The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. He tried to mask it with concern, but it was still there. He had enjoyed watching you break right before his eyes, just as he enjoyed the fact that the game between you was over. Now all he had to do was take you how he wanted you. 

Helplessly you watch as Pierro reached out, brushing the tips of his gloved fingers over the line of your jaw, testing the proverbial waters. You flinched, but you didn’t pull away from him, earning a hummed approval. There was no point in resisting him. If you ran, you would be stopped. If you screamed, you would be silenced. If you fought, you would be punished. There was no escape. All he would allow you was to submit to him, willingly or otherwise.

[theinnerunderrain]

Fall into The Abyss [Yan!Childe x Childhood friend!Reader]

Warnings: Yandere themes, brief description of graphic implications, no mention of romantic implications or feelings directly involved.

AN: I just wanted to say that this short prompt is inspired by a movie I recently saw but I don't want to exactly say which movie in case some of you saw it, cause it'll spoil the plot.

Enjoy!

-

It was an audacious assertion to make given that Snezhnaya was notoriously regarded as the region of snow and ice, but perhaps Childe could make a compelling case that the abyss was considerably more harrowing than the frigid cold of Snezhnaya. The northern hemisphere of Snezhnaya at least had some semblance of sunlight some sort of indication of life, but below, in the pitch-black depths, the only illumination within the abyss seemed to be as far away as the moon from the earth.

Seemingly yet so close, but endlessly far in reality. Ajax could only gawk up in awe at the aperture that appeared to be so far away, which seemed to him to be nothing more than a gap that radiated like a bright star in the midst of the winter night, serving as some type of beacon for travellers.

Childe was all too aware that it was his fault, and no amount of reassuring words or gentle assurances could make him change his mind. Childe probably wouldn't mind if he was the one to plunge into the depths, but why did the archons beyond decide to drag you down with him? If only Childe had heeded to his parents and remained at home instead of wandering aimlessly into some immature adventurous fantasy, life might have been considerably simpler for him.

If only he hadn't managed to run into you after sprinting into the woods whilst sporting an irate grimace, prompting you to become worried and insist on following him. If only he hadn't tumbled on the ice, collided with a pile of branches, allowing the wild wolves to become aware of your location, prompting for the both of you to sprint deeper into the snow covered woods.

If only he hadn't unintentionally stretched out for your fingers as the ground imploded beneath him, drawing you down into the dreadful abyss, that awful feeling of relief surging through his chest at the feeling of your warm hands wrapped around his. If only you hadn't been so kind as to extend your hand to take his, if only he wasn't so foolish to accept your kindness.

If only.

"Let's try climbing the walls again. We'll have a better chance now since we managed to recover for a bit."

With his softly rounded orange tresses streaming down the left side of your face, Childe softly murmured whilst pressing into your shoulder, trying his best to keep you warm but not enough for his body to be practically crushing against your frame. Anyone who has known Ajax for a while would find it strange to hear him speak with such a weak voice considering he typically spoke with a cheerful tone, the typical tone that wasn't unusual for a boy his age to use, one full of determination and aspirations. Nevertheless, after plummeting into a steep, deep pit and having virtually nothing in the sense of food or shelter to grasp onto, anyone would likely feel quite worn out and downtrodden. It's even remarkable that both of you survived despite colliding with the pit's wall and having your flesh scraped by jagged boulders, your jackets wrenched off, and your flesh punctured.

"With what?"

Your voice was somewhat softer than Ajax's, and it melded so well with the uncanny stillness of the dark pit that he may very well have missed it. Ajax couldn't exactly see your eyes since the majority of your hair, which was usually tied back into a ponytail, was loose and obscured by the majority of your face.

"Your shoes."

He responded by kicking one of his feet into the air, displaying his wounded toes, which weren't concealed by any shoes other than a soiled thin sock that was partially torn from the fall. He fortunately kept hold of his other pair of shoes and employed them as a fulcrum to transition from one platform to another. Perhaps it wouldn't be too tricky to climb up onto the other structure, one high enough just to try and call out for help, provided the two of you cooperate and manage to conserve the majority of your energy. You were going to survive without a doubt; Childe would even give his life to save yours if it meant sparing you from anguish.

Right, it shouldn't be too challenging. You did, after all, succeed in climbing up a few platforms already.

"I can't."

Childe lifted himself off of your shoulder and peered at you bewilderedly. But even so, you didn't bother to turn around to face him; you merely sat there, motionless. Your fingers felt abnormally cold in comparison to Childe's, who carefully wrapped his fingers on yours, giving your palm a quick squeeze. Although it wasn't unreasonable given how cold it was within the deep abyss, his hands likewise felt frigid to the touching.

But you were too cold.

"Why?"

Childe enquiries once more while he awaits for your eyes to turn to him, internally pleading for you to just turn to look at him and give him your typical consoling smile. That exact same grin that always welcomed him whenever the two of you joined together to frolic in the snow, giggling as the cold snow melted into your skin, prompting you to become bedridden the next morning. The smile that always gave him a sense of comfort since his childhood, a smile he was willing to give up his life for, one that he always sworn to live for.

"It's not up here is it?"

Your voice was steady and perhaps even frigid when you spoke this time. A tone that you never used unless you were truly irritated or tired, a tone that he always managed to keep away. Again, Childe would do anything to ensure your general welfare; he had already promised to request for your hand in marriage, thus it is his responsibility to keep you safe and secure. He didn't care if the commitment of marriage was an innocuous thought, one made over a flower ring he fashioned over the course of numerous summers.

Yet, he lacked the strength not only to protect himself but also to defend you. He had a small frame, slender arms, and enormous, vulnerable eyes that exuded a childlike wonderment, thus it was infantile of him to dream so high.

But one day, he will rule the world. With you at his side.

"What?"

A pause followed by a ghostly stillness that persisted in the air might well have rendered the atmosphere considerably thicker than before. It felt smothering, like if the bottomless, dark pit was threatening to swallow him; it was rubbing up against his soul like some kind of beast. When you finally turn to face him, the pair of orbs he treasured were slowly revealed as your hair gradually lifts from your face. However, rather than the radiant, beautiful orbs he so deeply adored, your eyes were a gloomy pit akin to the depths of the abyss.

Lifeless.

Your fingers pointed to the edge of the cliff and directly into a different platform, the platform that was directly below the one he was currently standing on. His eyes tentatively left your face and glided towards the direction of your fingers.

Oh god.

His heart began to thrash violently against his ribs, and his breathing became laboured as his brain struggled to comprehend the abhorrent scene that was unfolding just below him. At the core of the boulder was you, or someone who resembles you. Your chest was still, your body was visibly still, and there was no precise evidence of life. Your hair wasn't as silky as he had remembered it to be; instead, it was dried out and bunched together, suggesting that something had flowed into your hair, prompting it to dry up like that.

Something metallic, something like blood.

Your face was largely obscured by your hair. Even so, he could still make out a thin stream of blood that was trickling from your forehead onto the rocks, even a slight amount of dried blood, and a fleeting view of the enormous wound that stretched from one ear to the other.

He grimaces at the sight before turning to face you once more. This time, his eyes are sharp enough to recognize the truly awful wound on the sides of the head, where blood is oozing from your head and staining the left side of your face as well as reaching your lips. Even though there is a large gash on your face that is clearly visible, Childe could still say that you were the most stunning girl he had ever seen. Even with the horrid way you appeared before him, even if you were a mere illusion.

You were still beautiful.

Truly beautiful.

"It's down there."

Not even death can bypass your beauty.

[lixieswritingbakery]

Tragic Nostalgia

genre: PURE angst word count: ~500 words warnings/content: Where Signora finds herself in a flurry of emotions and memories when she enterse your previously shared home in Mondstadt. Gender neutral reader, not proofread! Nostalgia was what the all-powerful Eighth of the Fatui Harbingers felt when she entered Monstadt to retrieve Barbatos’ gnosis. Since Signora and her companions had to stay at Mondstadt for an elongated time to avoid attention and suspicion, they “took refuge” in the Goth Grand Hotel, only exclusive to the fatui. But it wasn’t before long when she felt the longing for her lover, Y/N. That night, she had met again with Mondstadt’s beautiful stars shining above your house, at the dead of night. Once she excused herself into your empty house, claimed to be haunted by your ghost. She was shocked to see that everything had stayed the same. Signora let her icy facade slowly melt into the everlasting warmth of your previously-shared home. She looked around, turning herself back into the Rosalyne Lohefalter you loved all those years ago. Caressing your adorable face while you woke up, protecting you from all the death threats sent by her enemies, and you giving her a Mondstadt specialty, a Windwheel Aster, and a hydro timepiece to remind her of you to her before she had left for her studies in Sumeru, leaving the both of you tearful. But you weren’t there. “You weren’t there. You weren’t there. You weren’t there.” The Fair Lady chanted, trying to ground herself from the fleeting memories of you and her. No, she couldn’t be seen as weak, even in your presence. She sunk down to the floor, furious, miserable that you, of all people, had died at the hands of the Cataclysm. Of the hands of Barbatos. She’d never felt this emotional in years, maybe decades. Hell, her emotions would’ve killed her if not for her cryo delusion. Signora had to remind herself that she wasn’t the sweet and naive Rosalyne Lohefalter anymore. She wasn’t the same person who had a partner who truly cared and looked out for her. Not just as a subordinate, but as a lover. She took one last look at your house, and froze those memories back into cold, dead ice. Shortly after, the harbinger and her underlings made their way to the outside of the cathedral, to retrieve Barbatos’ gnosis. Of course, she had an underlying meaning to visit this peasant, rodent “ruler” of Mondstadt. She saw red, and swore to take away the power that he had. The power that should’ve been used to save you. Signora let her icy delusion incapacitate the archon as she taunted him of his power, slowly letting her hidden emotions show once more, before swiftly leaving after getting his gnosis. The next time Signora had let the crimson flames engulf herself once more was when she participated in her last ever duel, a duel with the traveller. The harbinger had lost, and she had found herself in fear and misery once more, but a lingering thought at the back of her mind distracted herself from the pain of the Musou no Hitotachi. “Beloved, I will return to you once more.” care for a reblog? ^^ @lixieswritingbakery do not repost.

writing tag: #lixie.cake

[crystalflygeo]

The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Morax + gn!reader

cw/tags: angst, no joke I cried writing this, bittersweet ending, rough sex, feral/eroded zhongli, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe) fingering, dubcon at first maybe??

notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the bittersweet ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!

Dark/Bad ending version here!!

Once upon a time…

A long, long time ago…

The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies,a nd defending their safe harbor.

It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.

And his partner loved him just as much.

Willing to do anything for his sake.

It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.

As for his lover… well…

-----

Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.

The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.

Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.

It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…

A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.

Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.

You whimper.

The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.

“Why do you run away from me?”

“Please… I just want some time to myself.”

“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”

At the words you only sob harder.

Mate.

Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.

You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.

Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.

The undeniable marks of erosion.

You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.

"W-wait. Stop-!" You try to push him back, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he's unmovable as stone.

You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the very ground by heavy geo cuffs.

“Submit.” He growls.

You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands explore your body, rough and callous but still gentle despite his displays of power.

He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His thumb softly brushes at a spot on your navel lovingly, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You let out a moan.

Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.

“Z-Zhongli-!”

Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?”

You gulp, knot in your throat, mind dizzy, heart and body aching.

And then you smile. Softly. Pained.

“Morax, my love… n-not so rough, please…” You whisper.

The eroded God leans down to kiss you, swallowing your moans when his fingers tease, rub and pull at your hole, spreading you a little, preparing you. His long serpentine tongue invades your mouth as his free hand teases a nipple before sliding to settle at your hip. Your body relaxes and melts down onto the grass, pliant for him.

When you break apart, you see pure love and adoration in his golden eyes, but they no longer carry that wisdom, that solemn and dignified depth. Only a primal desire to keep you, claim you, breed you.

It’s alright…

This was your choice.

Blinking back tears, you moan and struggle a little against the restraints on your wrists, two of Morax’s fingers already pressing deep and curling inside you. You see stars when he quickly finds that spot that shoots pleasure up your spine, having already memorized it. Your sex leaking fluids and spurring him on.

Then, Morax pulls out and you feel the tip of his cock press against you, you gasp, back arching as he slowly presses forward inside your warm heat with a pleased groan.

“S-so big… ah!” You whimper, bucking your hips on reflex.

“My mate. So pretty. I will fill you up.” He mumbles, eyes half-lidded as he rolls his hips, inch after inch sinking into you languidly until he sheathes to the hilt, your legs spread around him. Morax slides his large hands around your hips, lifting them to pull closer and deeper, the new angle making his cockhead press deep against your sweet spot. He wastes no time thrusting in and out, gradually picking up the pace.

It's almost tender.

Soft keening sounds escape your lips as you lock your legs around his lower back, your feet resting atop the base of his tail which whips around wildly as he starts fucking faster. You feel the world blur around you, all that exists is you two and the mounting pleasure, the wet sounds and the slapping of skin against skin.

“Morax… Morax… ah! I’m… I’m c-close…”

He grunts and redoubles his efforts, hands pressing bruising spots at your hips, your insides clenching around him. “Mine.” He growls possessively, and you nod and chant his name over and over. Everything feels hot, dizzy, so much- too much-

You come with a filthy cry tumbling out of your lips, slick juices rolling down your skin. He continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.

The two of you ride out your orgasms in tandem, then he drapes over you, kissing your skin softly and making you sigh.

“My love, please, release me?” You try, struggling against the cuffs once again. “I want to touch you.”

“No.” He snarls. “You’ll only try to escape again.”

“I-I won’t… hng… I promise. I’m yours.” You reply breathless, full of emotion.

Morax eyes you with a stern expression, contemplating for a moment before letting out a soft huff. You feel the geo cuffs dissipate into golden dust, your aching limbs free, though sore, but you ignore it as your hand weakly cups his cheek, thumb rubbing at the golden scars there. Morax leans into the soft touch, nuzzling your palm.

“Love you.” The eroded dragon mutters, and you imagine it’s your lover telling you, despite his decaying fractured mind.

“I… I love you too.” You reply softly, bittersweet tears rolling down your face.

Forever and always.

-----

…It is said that his lover made the ultimate sacrifice.

Willingly locked with the eroded god in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.

Until they both turn to dust.

[aurellya]

Heart's Longing

Summary: Where Childe reunites with Zhongli in the most unexpected situation — the ex-archon in disguise as one of the fatui’s recruits.

[“I only ever wanted to spend my remaining years by your side” — 红绝]

[Originally created as a thread fic posted here]

Meeting

“A pleasure to meet you, Tartaglia,” The person who had just walked into the room greeted, smile peeking through behind the mask he wore, and it takes Childe all of 5 seconds to realise just who was standing before him.

“ZHONGLI?!”

“Yes, that is me,” Zhongli laughs as he removes the mask, golden eyes piercing through Childe. “I—“

Grabbing the other’s shoulders, Childe pulls him to the side and out of view of the recruits in training. “Just what are you doing here?”

Perhaps it had been the slight bitterness to his tone that had unwillingly seeped through the cracks, or the way he had the former archon pinned to the closed doorway, but Zhongli simply stared back at him — gaze unreadable.

“To see you.”

“And why would you want to do that— Is it because—”

“Because I loved you, Ajax.”

Loved

Loved — Zhongli loved him. The word rang within the silence of the room, almost mocking.

There had to be more than mere memories leading Zhongli to him once more. And yet as the former archon’s gaze burned into him, only one truth laid in those golden eyes.

“Zhongli… what did you do.” Childe spoke slowly, free hand reaching out, pausing just before it met Zhongli’s cheek.

“To let this happen…it was an oversight on my part and I apologise. But, Ajax—“ Inhaling sharply, Zhongli clutched at his chest. And, as if he were just a paper puppet, Zhongli crumpled to the ground, lines of gold pulsing across his skin.

“I need your help.”

To see the oh so proud geo archon lacking his usual grace and composure was almost unbelievable, and yet that was exactly the sight before Childe.

“…alright.”

A hand is offered out with a soft smile he cannot hide, concern dancing within ocean blue orbs, and Childe insists that this is fine. That he would help Zhongli as needed, and nothing more.

That their love had long since been discarded. Ever since the day Rex Lapis had fallen.

Yet why did his chest hurt as he helped the other up, hands meeting ice-cold skin that lit up on contact with his hand. Why did those golden eyes stare at him such a way. Why did he feel—

[Ah, perhaps this was another trick and he was the fool yet again… all because of love…]

Warmth

The warmth of another next to him is a comfort Zhongli had not experienced in a long while.

The steady rise and fall of Childe’s chest, the arm wrapped around him, the soft, sleepy mumbles breaking the silence — it’s almost as if nothing had changed.

But that, of course, was not true. That which has been broken can never be made perfectly while again.

The gap between them was unmistakable.

He could not fault Childe for resenting him after he’d learnt of the truth behind his identity. And, perhaps even now, the other still held such feelings… After all Zhongli was once more requiring his help.

A blessing of the adepti, or to some a curse, it was — to have one’s soul bound to another.

Though this was the first time such a thing had happened without proper ceremony…

“It’s that Snezhnaya’s rascal isn’t it— Dijun, let me—“

“A mortal?! How dare—“

“Quiet, all of you, I’m sure Dijun has his reasons.”

As his adepti hovered around him, Zhongli could only sigh as he gazed out towards the sea. Towards a faraway land covered in snow.

He’d never meant to fall in love. Much less… fall so deeply that such a thing could happen. And yet it had.

Yet his carelessness and lack of full understanding of the heart had only brought such a precious bond to ruin. Even still… that warmth was the same as ever.

“And what happens should the bond break?” Zhongli had asked, though he already knew the answer.

With a sad smile, Madame Ping placed a hand on his. “The adeptus dies.”

“Zhongli?” Hearing Childe’s voice, Zhongli turns, smiling as he takes in the sight of the other’s tousled hair and unfocused eyes blinking away the last bits of sleep.

“Good morning, Ajax.”

He tries to hide the disappointment as Childe pulls away, sitting up on the other edge of the bed. Yet the adeptal magic curling itself around his heart only makes it more known as it pulses painfully — attempting to reach out and failing only due to Zhongli’s hold on it.

No. They would take this at Childe’s pace. It was selfish enough that Zhongli had done such a thing just to get close to the other and speak with him once more.

If Childe could not love him back then… then so be it. At least he’d managed to experience that warmth once more.

Clash

Blade pressed against the ex-archon’s neck, Childe laughed. “Can’t handle a simple Fatui training routine, Morax?”

Losing focus in the middle of their sparring session… just who did Zhongli think he was to be disrespecting his opponent in such a way.

It has always been like this, hasn’t it. The archons seeing those beneath them as mere pawns in Celestia’s game.

Just like that fateful day in Liyue, their blades had clashed. Raging waves crashing against unmovable stone in complete silence as their movements spoke for them.

Broken trust, shattered friendship, the loss of something more. What needed to be said had been spoken through the clanging of steel against steel high in the clouds above Liyue Harbour.

It had been the most thrilling battle of Childe’s life — save for the day he’d slain the beast that threatened to take his flickering flame of life during his time in the Abyss.

But this time, as they clashed once more, something was very off.

A strange cloud of tiredness seemed to hang over Zhongli, holding the other in its grasp and rendering his reactions slower than usual, eyes faintly glazed over no matter how he visibly fought the haze away.

A wheezing cough broke Childe out of his thoughts. And as he pulled back his blade, the liquid gold now staining its body glittered under the light of dawn.

An almost beautiful sight of the same liquid did not currently coat Zhongli’s lips.

“Zhongli? Wha—“ He called out, throwing the blade to the floor and stepping forward only to recoil as the temperature of the air around him plummeted, biting at his skin and suffocating him in a way not even Snezhnaya’s coldest winters could.

“Apologies, please do excuse me for today. I do not seem to be feeling well.” Zhongli muttered, hand held over his mouth as he continued to cough.

And before Childe could even speak, Zhongli left — taking the odd chill with him.

Gold dripped from the tip of his blade and onto the crystalline floor, steam rising where they met. And where betrayal had once been back in the heights of Liyue’s golden palace, there now only remained a strange ache.

[Zhongli… Just what is it that you are hiding from me now?]

~❄️~

Upon her icy throne, the goddess of love sighed. “Time’s running out, Morax… what is your choice? Whatever happens, do forgive the child of winter… he does not know anything else. After all, Snezhnaya’s winters temper even the most blazing inferno.”

Truth

“Zhongli,” Childe called between the clashing of their blades, training hall empty.

But the god did not respond. Only continuing the rhythm of battle they’d given themselves to.

“Zhongli, you— Won’t you say something?”

Few words had been spoken between the sessions that followed that day, pleasantries and necessities exchanged but never anything more.

The light within those amber eyes dimmed with each passing day. Power fading in a foreign land. And yet…

“There is nothing to say, Tartaglia.”

Maybe it is the adrenaline running through his veins, remaining battle lust from the mission overnight influencing his decisions. But the god’s response only led to uncharacteristic anger rising even further.

“Then tell me, what is this?” Grabbing Zhongli’s wrist and throwing the sword he held across the icy room, Childe shifted the sleeve of Zhongli’s fatui uniform till it revealed cracked veins of gold skin rough as stone.

It did not take a genius to know something was clearly wrong. The odd fatigue. The distraction. The secrets…

[I knew it] Childe thought to himself, fist clenching at his side.

The very picture of calm, Zhongli simply smiled. “Nothing you should be concerned with. It is a strength… and inevitable weakness of my kind.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it.” The words were barely loud enough to be heard over Snezhnaya’s howling winds. Still, they are heard.

Countless unopened letters had laid neatly in a box within his room. The same number of unsent ones piled beside them and even more unfinished scraps scattered across his desk.

And written in familiar ink on those letters had been the truth.

“It is not. The decision was my own.”

“Then tell me. Do you still feel the same? Even after

“… a heart of stone is a heart nonetheless… but there is no need to force yourself for my sake—“

“Do you think this is me ‘forcing myself’?” Childe laughed, leaning in. Zhongli’s warm breath fanned across his cheek — faint but sill there.

The smile Zhongli gives him is more than enough. Distance between them closing.

Power fills the hall, rushing in and sending the doors slamming open as the icy ground cracks.

It wraps around them, piercing their cores and flooding them with all the light of an ancient bond.

In that moment, it is almost as if nothing else mattered.

The odd emptiness and chill of Snezhnaya’s endless winter within his heart dispelled. His world held in his arms at last.

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading and feel free to say hi on Twitter [@mikarin_Z], or find my other fics on AO3 [aurellya]!

[windgesang]

@archoniic sent: Chaos; fire and carnage lay all around them. Yet atop a stone bridge stood two very old souls. One with fire in his heart and a yearning for vengeance; another that held sadness and a look of defeat upon his face. One who held all the freedom; the other who’s hands had been bound more than once. Even here, there was very little he could do.      “I am sorry, but if you persist then you will have to face me first.” For what could he do in the face of a contract? Bound by his own rules. This fight was not one he wished to have; despite their differences, he wouldn’t wish to harm the Anemo Archon. 

“Walk away, Barbatos… please.”

The land he once built lay in ruins, every blade of grass turned ashen by the flames of the wanderers burning everything in their wake, the once so lively city made desolate. Even the screams of agony, the desperate prayers of his beloved people that had torn his mind asunder as they died one by one had grown silent, leaving nothing but a dead and empty wasteland where once the land of freedom had flourished. That same desolation was inside him, the spirit of love and freedom twisted and fractured beyond recognition.

There was nothing but grief and madness then where life and joy had been and no amount of hope could bring them back. They were all gone like the smoke in the wind, faster than Barbatos could hold on to any of them; wiped out like whispers in a storm long before their time.

It hurt. It hurt like nothing he’d ever felt before; worse than his betrayal of the king, worse than any sacrifice they had made in the name of freedom. Worse than the loss of his only true friend. It was unspeakable, unbearable agony, like a claw through his chest that grinded his heart to dust and left scars on his soul he would never recover from.

The winds were howling around them, screaming his pain and growing with his rage. They carried the fires across the land, swallowing everything in their path - but it mattered not. There was no life left for them to take, only ruins and charred broken earth.

When he spoke his voice was broken, silent and yet roaring like the raging storm around them. He was shaking with unbridled emotion, tears streaming down his face for all his children lost. The wings on his back swayed in the violent winds, the tips of their feathers burned like the land around him.      “Step aside, Morax.” Behind him Andrius’ claws dug into the earth as he growled with his master’s pain, a terrible broken sound that pierced marrow and bone like the ice his paws spread over the ground.

What was Morax’ betrayal in the face of this destruction? All memory of friendship burned like the towers of the brave city of Mondstadt while he stood there, blocking the way. Immovable as he’d always been. Soulless, vile, TRAITOR-- the winds seemed to call as they grew stronger still, tearing trees from the ground and causing the very water from the river to rise high into the sky.

He would not save them from justice; he would not fulfill his word this time. If his life was the price to pay then so be it - no power in this world, immortal or otherwise, would stand against Barbatos’ vengeance.

“I will make them face my storm.. and you will not stop me.”

[blackicephantom]

Genshin Impact - Wrath of a God 3

We're almost done folks.

So enjoy!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Childe was just staring at the older man. Has he heard that right just now?  If THAT wasn’t a confession, he’ll pay the traveler one month worth of commision rewards. That those gentle and warm hands still held his own wasn’t helping either, his heart doing little saltos. 

As enjoyable as this moment was, something occurred to the hurt Harbinger.

“Her Majesty won’t be thrilled when Signora returns to her with empty hands…” The soothing strokes stopped and the ginger held his breath for the few seconds it took Zhongli to answer.

“Tsaritsa knew the conditions she agreed to, as well as all the risks. And she is well aware of what happens if those conditions are not met. She has seen it happen more than once during all this time. It was her very own signature on the paper that sealed that promise. And my promise is as solid as stone.”

A shudder traveled down Tartaglia's back. With every spoken word the other's voice got deeper, getting all growly and dark. And that was soooo damn hot…. `Keep it together Ajax!´

Trying to shake these thoughts away the poor boy missed the way the old god looked at him, missed his adoring smile and that brilliant yet gentle golden glow of his eyes and hands.

Said eyes suddenly moved towards the window and Childe’s natural battle instincts told him something was wrong. But before he could even think about moving, which felt close to impossible, Zhongli was already on the move. Striding towards the curtain, he pulled it open and was greeted by ice flowers on the glass. The Tsaritsa’s way to leave him a massage.

The fragile looking flowers slowly spread, until they covered the whole window and Childe felt quite chilly even under the blankets. Those flowers reminded him a little bit too much of his homeland and this time not in a good way. He knew of his Queen’s means of communication, knew that this right here was not just a simple massage. Still very much in antagonizing pain he struggled to sit up, turning just the slightest bit to see the window more clearly. Ignoring the stinging under his bandages and all the other hurting things on and under his skin, he watched as something began to shimmer on the ice.

Her Majesty looked part disappointed and part utterly pissed and he wasn’t sure which one was directed towards him. Maybe both. Maybe none. Who cares?

Her pale lips were a straight line and her covered eyes bore right into the challenging ones of her fellow archon. And after minutes of this staring contest, it was Zhongli who spoke first.

“I hope your 8th Harbinger has returned to your side safe and sound.” It took everything the ginger had not to snort or outright laugh. After that crippling defeat Signora was definitely not safe and sound. And the Tsaritsa was not amused. “Yes, she has returned. But there are a few things missing that I am told are in your possession, Morax. Care to explain?” Her voice sounded cold, indifferent. It was only then that she let her eyes wander, looking around. Once she had spotted him, he immediately  lowered his gaze. No one was permitted to look her Majesty in the eyes. No one but her absolut equals. Right after that there was a rock solid figure in front of him, shielding him from the frost of the Cryo Archons fury.

“Has the girl told you what happened? Has she given you my massage?”  Blazing gold clashed with frozen blue. Unmoving rock met chilling ice. “Answer me, Tsaritsa.” Said Archon clenched her teeth and ground somewhat of an answer out.

“The mission was a failure. Your dear Liyue not yet ready it seems, your Gnosis still in your possession, as well as my precious 11th.” 

Childe was, for lack of better words, speechless. Lies, all of them, and she knew it. She HAD to know it. What the fuck was his Queen thinking, lying right to Zhongli’s face about what happened?! Sneaking a look at the older Archon he had to swallow. Rex Lapis was not displeased. He wasn’t even angry. No no. The Lord of Geo was furious.

There was none of his gentle smile there, his whole face nothing but hard lines and downturned lips. Warm amber now a raging gold, black and gold hands balled into fists and a low growl sounding from his chest. Childe really wanted to put his ear down where he thought that aggressive sound was coming from. Only the flexing of those multi coloured hands brought him out of that one fantasy. 

“Not only have you tried to bend our contract, making it beneficial only to yourself, now you also have the impudence to LIE to me? I am almost impressed, Tsaritsa.”

Pale lips were pulled into a smirk just as cold as the winds of Snezhnaya. This wasn’t good.

“But it is what La Signora has told me. Isn’t that what you've instructed her to do? To Tell me of her failure, with every little detail? Wasn’t she supposed to tell me that your precious contract is no longer active?”

All playfulness left her face and Tartaglia felt like vomiting. The Tsaritsa was playing a dangerous game here, taking a gamble that could turn south so fast that not even that damn Yaksha could help her. She’s using loopholes, created by Zhongli himself. Said man looked rather composed, his arms crossing over his chest. “Sly witch. What do you want?”

Oh god, Childe was going to die. Has Zhongli just called her Majesty a witch?! He was trying so damn hard not to laugh, that he totally missed her sour expression. “Simple, Morax. I want my dearest Tartaglia back. All of my Fatui are supposed to return to my side after their missions. Including him.” That shut him up rather quickly.

“A few of my closest guards will come to collect him, so have him ready.” 

With that, the image shattered and the icy flowers thawed from the glass, leaving both men alone once again. The Harbinger said nothing when the older politely excused himself, reassuring him he will be back in a few minutes. The following silence felt stifling, reminding him of the cold and deep ocean. And just as his thoughts wanted to spiral, a sound unlike anything he’s ever heard shook the land. It wasn’t just the bed or the room that trembled, it was the whole fucking building. Maybe even the whole archon damned city and Childe was honestly impressed. His dear Queen pissed off one hell of an opponent.

Deciding that simply waiting was kinda dumb and boring, Tartaglia got to his feet, slow and painful, and looked around one more time. This was probably his only chance to remember as much as he could. Once back at the Tsaritsa’s feet she wouldn’t let him leave for quite some time…. He strolled through the room carefully, not touching anything or else he might break something. And would you look at this? Between all these treasures were more than just a few things that he had gifted the brunet. Little things from the market or his oh so well loved stones, the most beautiful Cor Lapis and Noctilucous Jade. Looking at these little gems he just couldn’t help the smile that stole itself on his lips. He was truly hopeless, wasn’t he? “Like a lovesick maiden.” was his whispered confession to himself.

True to his word, Zhongli returned about ten minutes after disappearing. He still looked tense but put together enough to seem normal. Somehow Childe got nervous, because the older man took measured steps towards him, only stopping right in front of him. “It is useless to tell you to rest some more, isn’t it?” With a half hearted smirk Tartaglia had to agree. “If her Majesty is truly sending her own guards, I’ve probably got about another hour or so.”  He doesn’t think about the lost look in those expressive eyes, doesn’t think about his soft sigh or the gloved hands reaching for him. But just before the worn leather could touch his skin, they stopped. They just. Fucking. Stopped.  Ready to give the handsome grandpa in front of him a piece of his mind,he just let it go. It’s better not to get his hopes up, after all. 

But the next thing he heard was a really, really soft `Fuck it´ followed by the feel of those hands on his back and hips that pulled him impossibly close. Then he looked into deep Cor Lapis, felt warm breath on his lips right before Zhongli closed the gap between them. This kiss was honestly everything Tartaglia had ever imagined and then still some more. It was gentle and yet passionate enough to steal his breath away. Nothing special, yet everything he had wished for. Even if it was rather short lived, he was a blushing and slightly panting mess, while Zhongli was still as put together as ever. Well, if you ignored his slowly darkening eyes and that damn tongue slowly licking over his lower lip. Swallowing, Childe watched as the slick muscle disappeared back inside the other's mouth and wanted to hit the other when those sinful lips were pulled into a lazy smirk.

Just then the moment was broken by a soft knock from the window. Looking over, Childe saw not only Aether but also the little Yaksha he was so fond of. Even if both of them were in denial about this little fact. A few of them had bets going for how long it will take those two to figure their shit out ….. Not that he had any room to talk…..

The brunette let both males inside.

“My Lord.” were the Yakshas first words while Aether first looked at Tartaglia and frowned. But the ginger only smiled and waved off all of his concern, just like he always did. Clearly not happy about it, the blonde still turned towards the Archon. “We did what you’ve asked of us. And you were right. The first ships are already at the horizon and fast approaching.”

Then the teal haired male continued. “We are ready whenever you need. Just give the word.”

And despite his smile Morax shook his head. “Any act of violence will most likely be seen as a declaration of war. And even if we COULD win, I can’t endanger the people anymore then I already did.” These words filled Childe with no small amount of guilt. He knew that he was to blame for most of the damages in Liyue and the injuries of many of its citizens. No matter the fact that it didn’t have to come to this, if his Archon had done what she was supposed to…..

“Let them pass peacefully but be alert and on stand-by. Even if they are allowed in Liyue, they are not welcome. And they would do very well to remember that.”

Only few other words were shared before their visitors left them alone again. But just before Xiao teleported both of them back to the harbor, Aether turned around one more time. And his next words hit something deep inside of Ajax. “She really doesn’t deserve you, you know?” And then they were gone.

Silence hung heavy between them as Zhongli stepped in front of him again. For a few seconds he just looked at him, looked at his beaten skin and the bandages still covering his form. Then he looked at the scars that are visible without removing anything and without moving him. Slowly, oh so slowly one of the other’s warm hands rose and gently cupped his cheek, staying no more than two seconds before it slid along his neck, down his shoulder and along his entire arm. Then it took hold of his own scarred hand and brought it up to the Archons soft lips. And what an image this was: the always straight standing and proper Funeral parlor consultant, dark hair falling over one shoulder, back slightly bowed and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand while those smoldering eyes never left his own. The pure desire in them sent a tremble down his spine.  Then they started to glow, as well as the tips of his hair, before sliding halfway closed.

“No matter what may happen, know this: This will NOT go unpunished. She may be an Archon but she is still terribly young and does not know what grave mistake she has made.”

He stood up straight again and pure geo energy pulsed around them.

“And this, I promise: She will not keep you away from me. Your Tsaritsa has openly challenged me. And I shall deliver.”

Blue eyes widened when the silhouette of the Geo emblem slowly manifested itself on the back of his hand, which was still held by the god. Then he looked back into said god's eyes and shivered. They were nothing more than small slits and there was also another deep growl vibrating around them. 

“And my promise is as solid as stone.”

Sealed were those words with one last longing kiss on the now completed geo Symbol. This was not Zhongli. This was Morax, Rex Lapis, the Lord of Geo and the god of war staking his claim on Ajax. Just like his Majesty had challenged him, he was challenging her.

But this was so much more than a simple `challenge´. This was more than just a promise.

It was a pledge. A pledge for retribution and vengeance. And Childe could feel how his heartbeat quickens and how his own excitement starts to grow. He just couldn’t wait!

His dear Archon, his precious Tsaritsa, has no freaking idea what the hell she got herself into.

Out of all the Archons, she has angered the only one she absolutely shouldn't have. And said man is ready to show her exactly why.