#Snezhnaya

[blood-orange-juice]

There's already Fantasy Russia doomposting, let's have Fantasy Russia wishes too!

We have Balkan and Greek references in the game, so no need to restrict yourself to Russian Empire. Go ham. I'll start.

Name change. Please. It's so cringe currently.

A world quest chain based on Bazhov's tales (miners' folklore mixed with Ural and Slavic fae stories). Non-negotiable.

Trains and trams. Do I even need to say it?

TRDLO. Look at it. Look at it. We can have Western Slavs too and if there's no trdlo I'll riot:

(for the US people reading this: it's a sweet pastry cooked on metal rods over coals, popular street food in Prague, although it was originality Hungarian. eating it on a cold day is an Experience)

Frozen lake sounds, they sound a bit like whalesong.

Sami people. Finnish references in general.

Childe's family's side of his story.

A tired playwright bullied by censors.

Sirin and Alkonost birds! Half-birds half-humans who could put you to sleep or kill you with a song.

A black cat called Behemoth. iykyk.

Pulcinella as an Alexander II reference ("ruling Snezhnaya is not hard but it's pointless").

A giant bridge over a harbour.

Greenhouses. Just giant greenhouses.

Some steppes. A girl can hope.

Bog.

A springtime area near the sea with rhododendrons in bloom.

Space program. If Natlan can be modern then Snezhnaya can have space program. We are going to the moon to poke at a dead goddess (now where have I seen that... hm).

Cyberpunk and medical horror.

Pantalone's Ayn Rand era.

Atonal music.

Linguists.

An ice skating mechanic.

I'm assuming that Soviet adaptation of The Snow Queen (one of the things that inspired Miyazaki to draw) is a given, so here's an obligatory mention.

And, the last but not the least, 6 nations coalition army entering Snezhnaya for humanitarian help after the country falls apart on its own.

Hoyo, please. Allow us to have nice things at least sometimes.

[avnasace]

where is the tsaritsa finding these harbingers goddamn bc so far we have:

a royal mage from khaenriah

capitano (no spoilers but those who played 5.1 you know what i mean)

evil very intelligent doctor who experiments with god remains and dabbles in educational crimes, (DO NOT let him near children)

columbina.

a cursed child from a thought-extinct khaenriahn bloodline with shadow fire blood ish magic who runs an orphanage

a politician

the inazuman puppet made by a traumatised god who got discarded by said god, who went on to join the fatui out of spite and grief, almost brought inazuma to its knees, stole a gnosis, made himself a god, then erased himself from history and went to uni

lady and her svarog who we know nothing about except that she created katherine which could be either very wholesome or very sinister

mondstadtian crimson witch of flames 'im the only one around here who gets shit done' la signora (R.I.P)

a banker

local guy in his mid twenties who fell in a hole as a child, went briefly to hell, came back feral and probably traumatised, has a heart of gold but also an 'i want to fight god at every opportunity' complex. was ready to sink a nation bc the hot god said so, and bro can also turn into an 8ft strangely hot abyssal creature and fought an intergalactic all powerful world devouring whale for like 40 days straight.

[mawlaeina]

Childe is a family man.

Of course he loves his current family—so much that he spoils them everytime he comes home to Snezhnaya.

But recently he’s come to a point where he’s thought of making a family of his own. Sadly, he’s been too busy with his work as a harbinger to even find someone he wants to get to know better.

That all changed though when he saw you comforting Teucer at the lake nearby his family cabin.

When he came to the lake, he wasn’t expecting hearing the sad sobs of his younger brother Teucer. Instinctively, he began to run through the snowy terrain and towards where the cries were coming from.

There he saw you, panicking and reassuring Teucer (albeit timidly). Teucer had clung to you, hugging you tightly as he cried his eyes out on your shoulder, and there you were—knelt to the young ginger’s height as you embraced him, softly patting his back to soothe whatever was ailing him.

Something ticked inside Childe’s head, and before he knew it he was walking towards you with a glint of interest in his eyes.

Childe called out to Teucer, and Teucer let go of you to rush over to his older brother. It put a smile on Childe’s face knowing he was still his younger brother’s favorite. You stood up, and both of you introduced each other.

You say that you were new, having just moved into the neighborhood from Liyue. Currently, you began to work as a tutor for the neighborhood kids, adding that you’ve always liked kids and wanted to help and see them grow up. It gave you such a fulfilling experience.

Oh, you had no idea how that statement made Childe’s blood rush to his head… and pants.

He smiled, saying that he also liked kids, his younger brother Teucer in particular. He asks how you managed to meet Teucer since he usually just stays inside playing with the Mr. Cyclops toys that Childe gave him everytime he returned. You reply that you visited his family cabin because his mother invited you over after helping her with some groceries before.

Teucer randomly began to mention how his brother was single—much to his own brother’s surprise. Who taught him that? Childe thought as he awkwardly laughs it off in front of you, though he secretly hoped you’d take interest in such a topic.

Before any of you could even say another thing, Teucer began to go off again, talking to his brother how pretty you were, and how he liked and wanted you to be another one of his big sisters. You were flattered of course and chuckled at the cute ramblings of the kid.

You asked Childe if this was a normal thing, and Childe responded that he doesn’t usually do this. You began to talk to each other, and Teucer seemed to notice how the two of you got a long so well so quickly.

So he asked you the million dollar question.

“Hey, will you marry my big brother Ajax?” He asks abruptly, stunning you and Childe momentarily.

A blush forms on your cheeks as you began to laugh bashfully, scratching your cheeks with a finger, unsure of how to respond to the child without sounding too bad.

“Uhm… Teucer, we just met.” You say to the young boy.

“But you’ll marry him, right?” He seemed so excited at the thought, and Childe was as well, though he decided to laugh it off.

“Teucer, don’t get too excited now. No one’s rushing for me to get married.” Childe tells his younger brother kindly, though Teucer only pouts.

Oh, but the plans that Childe began to have in his head after Teucer mentioned marriage. He definitely saw a possibility that he could spend a future with you.

Maybe give him some time, get to know him. You’ll definitely find yourself spoiled rotten in the future by this handsome Snezhnayan bachelor.

✦ I’m not obsessed with him, I’m not obsessed with him, I’m not-

✦ happy birthday to my dearest darling harbinger and husband

[Good lord I just wanna pamper him with kisses in the face]

[kujousaramybeloved]

fatuiposting

[121231212i]

Genshin Impact | Childe

[berriblossom]

Devotion - Childe

☆| Helloooo, another sagau fic! Liking these atm, read warnings below!|

☆| WARNING| male masturbation, semi-smut (not really just tartag jacking off), religious themes, obsessed devotion, reader is reffered to as a holy elder/ ancient god in teyvat AKA "The Great Divine", MDNI, ALL WORK AND CHARACTERS PROTRAYALS ARE FICTIONAL! Enjoy yaaay!|

Holy divinity was different for many people. Specifically in his homeland of Snezhnaya, the way the cryo archon and the fatui worshipped the elder god of this land, was through trials of hardship and sacrifice. Not by human life but more so in spirit. Tartaglia remembers before he fell into the abyss, he remembers how his parents would take him to the capital of the nation as people handed out hot mule, carts of candies, soups, and strict coupons from the Northland Bank as a way to get more people into debt. Ah sweet times he remembers, but specifically the core of this memory and why he wanted to grow strong in the first place was the military parade, led under the first Fatui Harbinger, Capitano, or the Captain.

How the soldiers and men under such an esteemed figure, followed his order, chanting prayers of absolute dedication and power given to her lady the Tsaritsa and the Great Divine. How they held onto their weapons and raised them in the air, promising victory in their journey, for they won't falter in this promise, and how this promise to their benevolent gods was a sign of pure devotion and strength. As a young boy watching this with eyes of life and joy, Ajax made a promise to himself that day at the small celebration, that he too would lay his life for not only the cryo archon but now his devoted and beloved Divine diety.

Ajax entered the now vacant temple hall. At the moment he had returned to his homeland for a banquet held by the Regretor for the honor of bringing home another gnosis in the name of the Cryo archon. However, he left the party early, a rare sign for the youngest harbinger. Usually, some would suspect the adrenaline-driven young man to be bursting with energy at large gathering and times to show of himself. But unlike an actual party, Fatui Banquets aren't about celebration, but rather politics and money. Something despite his position wasn't something he felt interest in. Just for him to be reminded of the greed and personal gain each of his fellow members had for themselves, so silently he left. Ajax sat on a temple pew, your frosted statue standing at the top of the hall, sat atop a small stage with a chair beside it, representing the Tsaritsa as she would sit or stand beside you in glory at your fated return to Teyvat. Ajax sat on the step underneath your statue, the air was cold, his breath coming in small pants, cheeks blushed as the usual bite of the cold nibbled on his features. But his eyes remained on your statue, focused and unchanging.

Silently, Ajax wondered what the feeling your benevolent gaze had on him. He remembered that even his master, Skirk mentioned casually that despite your benevolence to humankind, you were in fact a being of havoc and destruction, it was that you chose to keep humans, mortals, and immortals out of said fury, and wrath out of your kindness. Hearing that at a young age, made Ajax double his promise to you, that he would lay his life for you, even fight for you. Hell if needed he would betray his fellow harbingers for you and the cryo archon, without a split second to rethink the decision. Even as he travels for work and missions handed to him by the Tsaritsa, he carries a small page of scripture for you, words from thousands of years ago spoken that still ring in his mind when he feels unsettled or disturbed and needs your guidance and love.

"For human life and soul is the building block of all things in this world, without it, I am nothing, and as nothing, I shall depend on the love my humans have created out of nothing to give for me, something. Human love is worth a thousand years in memory and gold."

Ajax no matter what the anxiety, fear, or even boredom that plagues his mind, he daydreams of the day you'd return. How in his wildest fantasies, he'd get to hold you, cherish you, worship you, kiss your feet, and hands, hold the strong hands and fingers that sculpted his entire being and blessed him for the victories in battle he as acquired and carry scars as if they were trophies.

His breathing in the cold temple hall stalls for a moment.

He looks up.

His eyes meet your stone-engraved ones. Closed as a warm smile is printed onto the marble statue, forever frozen in a warming embrace and careful tenderness. Ajax whimpers as he closes his eyes tightly shut, his hands grip into fists against the tile flooring, leaning over as he kneels under your stone gaze. He mumbles quietly.

Ajax's voice echoes as he feels the weight of his words hangs in the empty temple. The world feels like it is silent, for it feels like he is only here with your statue, your presence, your being. Pressure builds in the base of his spine, crawling up his sides like a flame, tingling and burning with passion, burning at his fingertips, the cold leaving a numbing feeling as his other hand stays on the cold tiled floor. The hand from his chest lowers as he swallows hard, his eyes fluttering open and close with each breath, and each touch he leaves, imagining it was you. His voice falters as his pleas grow silent but his soft noises echo louder.

"My grace...by the names given to you...my dear loving god...hear me.." His voice was hoarse as he shivered feeling what felt like warm air hit his clothed back. Covered in the official Fatui coat, Ajax's hands tighten as he releases his fist and lays his fingers flat on the floor, his voice picks up again in the cold room. Light only by a sole candle illuminating your stone-etched face. "My grace, hear my prayers, as your devoted soldier, I want... no need for your blessings, the gifts of life and victory you've given me have warmed my heart, have been so tender...I am grateful....however.."

Ajax sighs and as he feels another wisp of warm air hit his neck, shivering he brings his hand to his chest, flat as his heart beats steadily. "I want more than your power...my fellow harbingers wish for your dominion, wishing to be like the gods you've created and destroyed....I want..your love...your sole love..your divine love only for me...a sin it is to be ready my grace, but I plead..."

With the promise he made set in his heart, Ajax tumbled forward, his chest heaving, as he spilled warmth into his palm, his flesh flushed, heart pounding in his ears, the warm hands he imagined, the sensation was replaced with his rough scarred palm. He looks down at his hand, his face flushed but eerily calm. He sighs and pulls his gloves back on, not caring about the mess as he stands, his coat overhanging on his shoulders.

He bites off his glove, wanting to imagine a new sensation, a warm scarred hand is replaced by his fantasy, a hand he can't recognize but adores. His eyes water as his fantasies grow wild, your voice, he imagines surrounding him, asking him to explain his needs, how he wants you to love him. The hand slides down his toned abdomen, tickling at his ribs and chest, flicks of hydro swirling around his fingers as he whimpers again..

"Please..." His voice gave in, slowly hurling over, the hand he imagined dipped below his belt, tossing away the useless fabric, taking hold of his form, his breath quickens as the pace is slow, "as it should" he thinks in the back of his mind. It shouldn't be rushed...he whispers into his consciousness, it should be slow, careful, tender. With love, he moans into the cold room. The candle flickers in the cold wind, the wisp of warm air against his fingers as they stroke hypnotically, circling around his flesh as he bites down on his lip harshly. Fresh drops of blood drip into his throat, flowing slowly as he swallows some, delusionally believing it could be your blood into him, flowing into him he wishes.

He desperately wants everything of you, all of it. Even if it hurts, even if it killed him. Ajax was prepared for such a price for your love, depraved and unattached, he choked a struggled moan as he felt his body tense, he quickened his pace, his voice speaking in hushed prayer as he used the other hand to press against his neck. His moans begging.

"Please...please...give me it...all of it...my grace..... give-"

He looks at your statue.

A smile creeps onto his face the gloved fingers just used for pleasure, cup your sculpted face. His final whisper relayed before leaving the frozen temple.

"You will be mine...and I yours, my beloved divine and holy god."

☆|Oof, I made him a freakish ngl, anyways I hoped you enjoyed it!

_______________________________________________

[kazumiku]

Of Pride and Prejudice

a scaramouche x gn!reader smau

— IS NOT GENERAL INCIVILITY THE VERY ESSENCE OF LOVE ?

synopsis | it was the 21st century. the world looked like it was having a turn for the better. although, not for you. nor your home, khaenri'ah. a poor, declining nation, with wars raging from north to south and all across the borders, as far as it goes. with your people poisoned by cryptic messages against your family, may it be deemed blasphemous, but the country was falling apart one way or another.

in an attempt to save what little they have left of their falling kingdom, your parents salvaged few bits of money to send you and your siblings to mondstadt away, reserving what's left of the royal blood. you were tasked to keep a low profile, but unfortunately, you and your siblings were a bunch of unruly rebels, wounding up in a ball where you manage to sneak in, somehow. 'lo and behold, it was hosted by a visiting figure from snezhnaya… along with a certain someone from inazuma, too.

while your siblings fall subject to charming faces and suave attitudes, you find yourself catching beef with the prince of inazuma instead. yet, how long can you both drag this out, really?

genre | modern!royals au; maybe a little angst; wars; eventual fluff; enemies to lovers kinda

warnings | HEAVILY inspired by pride and prejudice (go check the 2005 movie out if you haven't); bits of actual genshin lore; very offensive jokes; triggering topics; suggestive themes/comments; more to be added

status | ongoing ( 07/17/24 - tba... )

taglist | open ( send ask or reply anywhere )

p.files ↬ princesses and a frog, testicle traumatizers

p.logue ↬ the grand escape

Courtesy call!

01 → tweaking bad ; 02 → introversion is a myth

03 → hella washed ; 04 → put yo leash on

05 → tba... ; 06 → tba...; 07 → tba...

Curtain call!

00 → tba... ; 00 → tba... ; 00 → tba...

Load out call!

00 → tba... ; 00 → tba... ; 00 → tba...

—everything is subject to change!!!—

main navi!

a/n; jus gonna post this out here before i forget about it and it rots in my notes!!!

[d-thwish]

I cannot wait until we get to snezhnaya and get random playable characters that have nothing to do with the fatui but have voicelines for childe. like there's a baker and his "about childe" voiceline is "he comes in sometimes to buy croissants. nice guy."

[sirlancevrot]

"Snezhnaya is so beautiful..."

chilumi my chilumi are so sweet

the plot: tartaglia wanted to charge a snowball into the lumine but saw how wonderful she was in the light of a lamp against the background of snow-covered trees

[lumiitoile]

tartaglia : [snow day.]

☆ — requested! contains: established relationship, fluff, gn! reader (no pronouns.) a day in the snow with your boyfriend. tartaglia has freckles.

there it goes again. 

you're out on a stroll with none other than your beloved boyfriend, ajax, walking hand in hand as you two enjoy this evenings frosty weather. thick layers of white crunch beneath your feet as you walk, the tip of your nose pink from the cold. you cant help but admire the way the flurry blankets over your surroundings, trees coated in a sheet of frost. its been snowing all day, and he thought it'd be nice to go out and bask in the chilliness together. he loves the snow, after all. 

but for some strange reason, his scarf just wont stay in place, no matter how tightly you secure it. you've redone it at least three times now—not like he cares enough to fix it himself—and its really starting to get on your nerves. 

you let out an annoyed sigh, reaching up to fasten it for him yet again. “idiot...you’re going to catch a cold if this keeps up.”

this steals a chuckle from his lips, though he dismisses your worry with a wave of his hand. “i would never catch a cold. i dont get sick,” he states confidently.

”well, dont jinx it,” you warn, re-looping the fabric and tying the scarf extra tightly this time around. snug enough to stay put, but not enough to a point where he'll find it uncomfortable. “there. all warm.” 

he smiles as he watches you bundle him up, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eye that you're all too familiar with. "oh, but my lips are still so, so unbearably cold in this jarring snezhnayan weather..." his palm finds its way to the small of your back, and he pulls you a little closer. "wont you be a doll and warm those up for me too?"

you roll your eyes at him, though its hard to deny the soft pink hue creeping its way onto your cheeks. you pull yourself out of his grasp, averting your gaze and staring off to the ground. "youre ridiculous...come on, lets keep moving. it's way too cold to deal with your shenanigans." 

he feigns a gasp, clutching at his chest dramatically. "you dare reject affection to the one you love? scandalous!" 

you let out an amused huff and continue to walk ahead of him, stuffing your hands in your pockets to protect them from the cold. he's such a dork sometimes...well, all the time, really. but thats one of the things you love about him. not that you'd ever tell him that directly to his face, however...he has a big enough of an ego as it—

bam.

a cold object crashes against your cranium and you gasp at the contact, rubbing the back of your head and swiveling around on your heel to search for the source. there stands ajax, looking anywhere but your eyes as he smiles and whistles to himself, hands behind his back. 

it was a snowball. he just hit you with a fucking snowball. 

"wow," you chuckle, voice poisonously sharp as you lean over to scoop a cluster of snow into your palms. "thats how we're gonna play it, huh?"

he's still faced away, smiling sweetly to himself and biting back a laugh. "i have no idea what youre talking abo—"

you fling a snowball of your own, cutting him off mid-sentence as the chilly lump collides into his chest. he gapes at you, disbelieving, and you smirk a little, chuckling at his now dampened sweater. 

though naturally, of course, this now means war. 

the both of you go on, hurling clumps of flurry at each other for archons know how long. its an all-out showdown between you two, dodging snowballs left and right as the snow crunches beneath your feet with each leap. that is, until you launch a snowball a little too hard and hit him smack dab in the face. he visibly staggers and you let out a yelp, rushing over to his side immediately. 

"shit," you pant, exhausted from your battle. "im so sorry. are you oka—"

he interrupts you by scraping the snow off of his skin, smearing it onto your face with a big smile. "perfectly fine," he beams. 

you gasp in surprise at the cold and swipe the snow off immediately, pressing your face between the fabric of your mittens and breathing warm air into your hands. "you're such a prick..."

he stares at you for a moment longer, the silence heavy before the both of you burst out into a fit of laughter. he plops down onto the snow, laying back and patting the spot beside him. "c'mere."

you suppose this means your earlier duel served no victor, but...thats alright. you'll get him next time. you take a seat beside him, smiling softly and resting your head on his chest. his heartbeat thumps quietly in his ribcage and you listen carefully, closing your eyes and breathing in sync with each beat. 

"look," he whispers, nudging you gently, and you open your eyes to see that a fresh flurry of snow has started to fall. he sticks out his tongue to catch a few flakes in his mouth and you laugh, giving him a small squeeze. you gaze at his face as he licks at the falling snow, at his piercing blue eyes, before your eyes trail down to his cheeks and...ah.

his freckles.

slowly, you reach up to cup his face in your palm, thumb brushing over his cheek as you trace patterns and connect his freckles together. his attention turns back to you and he smiles, leaning into the touch of your hand. "what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"constellations," you breathe, ghosting over each and every inch of his dotted face carefully. "im tracing constellations into your freckles. theyre like...stars..." 

he laughs, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles tenderly. butterflies. your face heats up at the contact, and your heart cant help but thump a little faster with the way he handles you so delicately. 

its cold here. so, so cold. and yet...he always somehow finds a way to make you feel warm. 

© lumitoiile. please do not copy, steal, translate, or edit my work.

[simonisferal]

there's only one god you'd serve — scaramouche x obsessed, scholar male reader

"you're so crazy, manipulate me." — SUICIDAL-IDOL

shouki no kami era (everlasting lord of arcane wisdom), reader's not like other boys 🤭, ii dottore mentioned :/, yandere-ish and dark themes, haypasia slander (sorry), suggestive, pet play (leashes and collars), reader's kind jealous, praise (scars), VERY self indulgent — needed to feed my own delusion 😞 also dottore's kinda ooc / also didn't know what happened towards the end but 🤷

spoiler alert if you havent completed sumeru's archon quests

snezhnaya was never kind to the weak, you had to learn that yourself. the harsh weather and lack of trade made it almost impossible to live off as a commoner unless you were to join the ranks in the fatui. your parents didn't want that for you but by tradition, you were forced to be exploited by the tsaritsa and her harbingers.

you never cared for her royalty, only acknowledging the words of your lord.

he was sweet to you as a child, often letting you cry at the loss of your parents' attention even though he'd tell you to suck it up later. he'd let you eat some of the sweets he gotten from banquets, ones he hated due to the sugar or just overall sweetness. you would attempt to repay the favor of his kindness but he dismissed it as you were a kid, still learning how to survive.

he was right because when you were drafted as a teenager, any soft words or affection he'd give a regular child disappeared. he didn't even remember your name or maybe he just never cared to learn it before. but the live he would give you for years to come tainted any familiarity within you and him.

later, you were stationed in sumeru, the nation of wisdom. your group was meerly there to threaten a few merchants and to place fear in the believers of the dendro archon and her young vessel. it was easy enough and it was easier to slip through the cracks of the broken squad and find yourself in front of the akademiyian doors.

maybe it was the inner child in you who wished to learn, or the teenager who wanted so badly to run away, or the adult you are now who wanted to do both out of spite.

you made the smart choice of taking most of your funds out of the northland bank in your small vacation to liyue before this. it wasn't much, sure, but it was little to go noticed and enough to let you study and rent out a proper living quarters for two whole years. for all the hard work fatui members do, their pay matches their energy.

you cut your hair short, switch out uniforms, and do the tough assignment of giving yourself long lasting marks and burns. even the little thorn pricks mattered as the small group had gone looking for you.

no one dared to accuse you but instead asked where you were from and how you got those scars. lie after lie with you. a mask was put up between your past and your future life to secure the safety and comfort of being long forgetten by your comrades. it didn't bother you when the fatui came in the akademiya, searching for their previous team member, and your classrooms. they hadn't even seen your eyes, let alone your face or body out of the uniform.

it was refreshing to say the least. you had the freedom of an uncaged fledgling, slowly but surely using your small wings to fly away from your problems. and it managed to work for a while.

you continued your new life for years, studying under the kshahrewar darshan, managing your own job at a bar, and even learning to love lesser lord kusanali, even if she wasn't present. your life was great until you heard mentions of the fatui again.

your boss placed you in charge of serving any members of the group since they didn't seem to bother you (he shits his pants every time he sees their signature masks). making their drinks and setting down their plates, your ears perk up as they talk about their lord harbinger.

"the balladeer retrieved the electro gnosis from inazuma, what greatness!" one chimed. another one joined in with sorrow, "the fair lady's sacrifice shalln't be in vain comrades, remember what she has given us." they seem to salute to themselves in a creepy, culty way. weirdos...

they didn't even bother to pay for their meals and it pissed you off. mainly because their debt was paid from your wallet either way and becuase of their entitled natures. you scoff as you clock out, placing some of your mora into the register and walking home.

the next day, scholars you had known acted different towards you. not in a they know your secret, run way, but in a they're too busy to even look at you right now way. you would've let it be if it was for matters important but it wasn't even project week. you sat alone in the library, tinkering away with your machines that you yourself built.

an alternative for a vision was your most prized possessions, it wasn't like a delusion nor a vision, running on some sort of life or desire to be obtained but mildly a packet of batteries and some water of fontaine. no help from the akasha as usual, even you knew it was tainted with, made the project more valuable to you.

scholars appeared at your desk, sitting in front and beside you as you tinkered away. you didn't bother to look up at them in the process, your alt-vision tied onto your hands if they tried something funny. you sat in quiet until one of them grabbed you and stood you off of your seat. you were about to laugh in their faces about rough-housing until you saw their eyes. they were covered by a mask. a very familiar one at that.

"you're coming with us." you scoff, tugging back your arm. their grip is still tightening as the other members stand up to back them up. brotherhood is disgusting.

you clenched your jaw as you think about your options. cause a scene and somehow manage to get azur on this was the worst case scenario. he was the main cause of the farui roaming around with the audacity to spread rumors about your renowned archon. the best case scenario was to go somewhere private and defeat them, you think. you frown, relaxing your arm in their grasp and letting them drag to you a empty room.

they shove you in and lock the door behind them. they guard the door, in and out, like there was an important figure to maintain. you scoff, rubbing your arm due to their harsh yanking and examine the room. it's one you hadn't seen before, even after several years of being in sumeru. the interior is damp and dark, small cords of purple liquid ran on the floor and walls, and a maniac laughter that you knew only belonged to one person.

"well, if it isn't one of your previous servants, scaramouche." you can see his twisted and pointed teeth smile from where you were standing. his mask was unlike any other, and the second ranked harbinger tilted his head in amusement.

you heard another voice, more of a scoff than an actual word. "as if i'd need him back. he can go die off just like the rest of his pathetic group." his tone was condescending, like it had previously been for years. you didn't expect to see him until your death and he was the devil.

it was habit but after a few seconds, you got on your knees and bowed. your head laid down as sweat ran down your face. your done. your life as a scholar and a perfectly okay person was slipping through your fingers. "..lord."

"get up off the floor, insect. don't dirty my floors." ii dottore laughed at his remarks and you only trembled. you didn't fear him as everyone did, you didn't hate him like others did. you had a weird sense of devotion to him, like he was a god. you stayed on the floor, shaking your head. "apologies but i'm afraid i... i can't."

scaramouche growled from where he was, on a small throne. how mature.

the doctor beside his simple chair walked up to you and crouched to meet your eyes. he lifted your head with his finger no problem and you could only stare back at his mask. "you have a feisty scholar, balladeer. i'm sure he'll be the perfect addition." he chimes. you can't tell if he's being serious or not.

the sixth only cross his arms and leans back in his seat. he huffs. "that alternative for a vision powered on simple batteries is amateur work, at its finest. you sure there's no one else?" it hurt hearing your (new) life's work being tarnished but you don't refute it. you can only clench the false mechanic. ii dottore seemed to have seen a look in your face because he laughs.

"no one who knows the insides and out of elemental material and how to transfer it into a battery powered object. and yet that's exactly what we need." he looks back at the fellow harbinger. "don't be a brat in front of one of your beloved followers."

your breath hitches and you look back down in contrast of what both harbingers want. scaramouche scoffs, "fine. if this gnat is what i need, i suppose i'll do him the favor of letting him serve me."

the next several days were the most complicated of your life. you had so desperately escaped the fatui for years and life a studious life but all that hard work bit you in your ass later.

you were helping design and make with large tubes that had to be strong enough to handle the energy transfer of a gnosis alongside another group of scholars—mainly the ones who decleared they were too busy. it was complicated work for most and you had to lend your precious 'vision' as an example of a smaller transfer. you weren't even supposed to be studying this matter as your major but libraries are full of knowledge and peace that it was hard to resist.

and when you weren't carrying the group's discoveries and progress, you had to act like a dog. maybe you should've just stayed a fatui and let a playable character kill you for drops. that would be better than working under the supervisor of the doctor. but you doubt it was better than being on the floor, on a collar and leash.

yes, you've expressed plentiful amounts of hatred towards other harbingers (including childe, he would not let you rest in practice), you somehow maintained a sweet spot for scaramouche. he didn't let you call him anything else beside his title, which although fed into his superiority complex, it kind of pleased you to see him in power.

and surprisingly, he let you take control most times when it wasn't anything work related. he had gotten used to your nuisance, as he calls it and even gave you backhanded compliments about your work, including your 'vision'. he regularly got mad and fortunately/unfortunately, you were there for him, letting him tug and pull on your leash. weird, i know but it gave him some sort of comfort.

even outside of his chambers in sumeru, the collar stayed on. you weren't sure it it had a tracking chip or could explode like in your turn to die but you definitely won't risk your life just for an answer. perhaps that's what seperated you from other scholars.

and speaking about other scholars, you loved the balladeer with you heart and soul, as a child, teen, and now, but he thought it was a good idea to collect a new follower. was it because you weren't enough? her name was haypasia and although she was fairly pretty, you hated her. maybe because she got to see his previous names and life before you even dared to dream it. your blood boiled at the thought of them getting closer.

you sat in scaramouche's chambers, near his bed, waiting for him. it was like your second home already, most of your clothes were hanged and your shoes were placed softly near the foot of the bed. your favorite books and novels were set on a bookshelf that he had personally installed to keep you entertained while he was gone.

you could work on your project—you know, the only reason you were forced to meddle with the fatui again, but nah. you just sat there, waiting for your beloved (as he lets you call him) to return from the greenhouse. your jaw clenched at the thought of haypasia worshipping him like she was special. maybe she was but you'd never admit it out loud.

the only thing that took you out of your thoughts was when your shared bedroom door flung open with an aggravated harbinger standing in front of it. he slams the door closed, stepping inside and sitting down beside you on his bed.

"..lord?" scaramouche looked down at his hands. they were balled up into fists and they were trembling. he was definitely mad if the door didn't proof it already. he didn't bother looking at you, only extending his hand towards you. you already knew what to do and you head him a leash tied to your collar. he doesn't pull it to your surprise and instead looks up at you.

"give me your hand."

you raise an eyebrow but do as he says either way. you gently place your hand in his, it was slightly bigger than his and scared with tiny slashes and cuts. he holds it tightly and faces you. "where'd you get these? no lies."

the sixth slid his other hand to your forearm, tracing over the marks and scars you had given yourself. he was gentle with it unlike his usual nature and it gave you a sense of familiarity, the one you had lost before. "i gave them to myself, sir.."

he looks at you for a split second before eying your healed wounds. he raised your hand closer to him as if he were examining each individual pore on your skin. "why?" scaramouche asks.

you don't lie, "to hide."

the harbinger frowns and holds your hand up to his cheek. what exactly did haypasia do to him? he leans into your touch and flutters his eyelashes at you. all his previous anger was gone, like it was a facade or an act to get your attention. "from me?"

"i could never hide from you." he grins, backing away from your hand and placing it in his lap alongside his own hands. "good. if that was the plan, i would simply just let you leave. no big deal.." he looks away from you, acting like he's better than to see such a pest as youself but you see the small hint of red on his face.

he scoffs, "you'd come back to me," he leans in while grabbing your arm in a rough manner. "isn't that right?" scaramouche asks.

you can't help the small smile on your face and nod. he smirks and runs his hand on your broad shoulders, trailing them down your arms and admiring every inch of your tainted skin. "really? and how do you expect me to believe you?" it was a rtheorical question, you know but answering it would lead to a better place.

"how about i prove it to you?"

[stu4e]

Christmas is soon! On a way to Snezhnaya!

[mawlaeina]

отчаянный | Desperate

(adj.) having a great need or desire for something.

🍊 content: Obsessed! Childe x fem! reader, implied red string of fate (sort of)

✦ content w: religious themes (if you squint), praise and worship (if you squint?), implied violence and murder by Childe, general angst

Childe had to fight.

Ajax was not older than 14 years old when he suddenly fell into the abyss on a regular snowy day in Snezhnaya. He closed his eyes for one moment, and the next thing he knew he was falling down towards dark colored waters of what looked like a dimly lit cave.

In seconds, Ajax felt himself crashing down harshly against the surface of the water before he began to slowly sink. He shivered, the water constantly staying icy and cold even when he was below the surface, and there was also an uncanny atmosphere that he felt as he continued to sink.

In a panic, Ajax swam up—the feeling of such a heavy weight on his entire body almost choked him off of oxygen as he managed to break to the surface of the water.

He gasps for air as he steadies himself before be swims to some nearby land. He clings to the sandy ground once he was out of the water, choking and gasping as the density grew greater on his body—as if it was going to crush his lungs and ribs at any given moment.

But he manages to grow accustomed to it a bit as he composes himself once more. He lets out an exasperated sigh as he asks himself what was happening.

He looked around for a moment and realized that the entire place was packed with wolves with shadow-like features that were focused on him upon his arrival.

The creatures were simply staring at Ajax with some kind of dark madness and hunger—albeit slow, some were already approaching him on the little island that he was on.

He had nothing to use to defend himself with—no armor, no shield, no weapons. When one of the wolves finally dashed forward with a jaw slightly hanging and ready to bite, all Ajax could think of was to run.

And he did run away—his legs moving light and fast as he tried to avoid all the other wolves that were coming in front of him. He was running even though his legs were tired, even when his lungs started to feel like they were bursting again.

For a moment, he was happy as he managed to lose sight of the wolves.

That was until he tripped.

He tripped over his own feet and began to roll down painfully against the rough and rigid ground. Once he finally landed at the bottom, his body had taken multiple fractures on the torso, and bleeding wounds on his face and arms.

Ajax groaned in pain, reaching and placing his hands on his hair before weakly clenching his hand on it. Ajax could hear the wolves coming as they howl with distorted voices from the direction he was just running away from.

He began to panic again, his breathing frantic and scattered all over the place. He closed his eyes for a moment as the darkness began to settle in his vision. For a moment he saw glimpses of mental images of his family—his mother, father, older and younger siblings.

Was this it? Was this his demise? He felt like crying, he didn’t want to die, not now, not when he was this young.

Why? Why? Why?

He questions desperately to the gods and celestia.

Fight.

His eyes opened, widening in shock as he wore a stunned expression on his face. He heard someone—the voice clear as day, with words spoken firmly as the frozen ice of Snezhnayan fjords, yet it was somehow spoken with the same desperation that he felt.

Fight, please. I’m begging you.

The voice’s tone broke momentarily, and Ajax could somehow picture someone in front of him as he lay on the ground—the person pleading, their warm and ticklish tears fell from their eyes and onto Ajax’s cheeks. Though their face was blurry and could be vaguely seen, he sensed some familiarity coming from them—even though he remembers no one with such a voice.

I don’t want you to die.

In an instant, Ajax rolls to the side as he avoids a claw strike from a wolf that had already came up to him. His back bumps into a nearby stone wall, but he manages to take a sharp rock before standing up with haste.

His hands are tensed, clenching the sharp stone and wielding it like a kitchen knife. Despite the state of his body, he felt the urge, the need to move and survive against the monster.

Ajax dashes forward as the shadow-like wolf lunges towards him. Before the ruined animal could bite his head off, he slides under the wolf and stabs its hide before slicing through its underbelly using the stone. Once the wolf’s body passes over him, it collapses onto the ground with a pool of blood quickly forming under its lower half.

For a moment, there was some sort of adrenaline that came over Ajax—one that made him feel stronger, more confident to survive, and his fresh kill ignited a newly sense of pride of winning.

He liked how it felt for some reason.

It wasn’t until the adrenaline wore off rather quickly. He coughed out some blood as he drops the sharp bloody stone to the ground, just before he fell to his knees—eventually, his body collapses onto the ground just like the wolf before passing out.

—

Childe had to survive.

When Ajax woke up, he found himself laying on the ground—his body covered in bandages. He groaned as the pain began to strike all over his body. He looked around for a moment and saw numerous wolves laying dead and bloodied everywhere.

He doesn’t remember doing any of this, and it somehow bothered him.

The next thing he knew, he was took in by a stranger who introduced herself as Skirk. He was taught multiple skills on how to survive in this place, which was called the Abyss. Skirk teaches Ajax how to survive and pass through the regions of the Abyss unharmed, and how to wield his hydro vision in the abyss—even though he wasn’t aware that he received a vision at all in the first place.

After a month of rigorous and intense training, Skirk teaches Ajax to wield Foul Legacy. For the first few tries, transforming and using Foul Legacy for even just a few seconds put such a heavy strain on his body, and he eventually ended up in critical condition every time.

When he passes out, he dreamt or had short visions. He saw someone making tea on a kitchen counter, their faces were blurry and could be vaguely seen but he could feel some sort of warmth emanating from them. Ajax somehow knew it was the same person who talked some sense into him on the first day that he fell into the Abyss.

He holds his hand out, reaching it gently towards the person.

He wakes up, his breathing heavy as he sweats profusely. Skirk was confused as to why Ajax woke up in such a way, yet she dismisses it as an insignificant nightmare that the young child probably had.

However, in Ajax’s case, he wanted more of that warmth that he felt just now. How long has it been since he’d touch something warm after falling into the cold Abyss? He doesn’t recall, he doesn’t remember—so, naturally, as a young adolescent, he wanted more of it, he craved it.

From then on, Ajax began to train harder, harsher—pushing his body to his limits everyday. He got stronger, and that’s what he told himself what his training was for—to get stronger, to be stronger.

To conquer the world.

A merely shallow form of self-manipulation to deny a more selfish reason he had in mind.

In truth, he wanted to see and feel more of that person, and he did—so long as he passed out. He passes out more frequently now as he continuously extends his limits—pushing himself until his body was in pain from just moving a hand.

Everytime he would pass out, he would constantly try to reach for them when they weren’t looking, he would try to see their face clearer, hear their voice clearer as they talked to him for even just a second. Eventually, he realizes they were a year younger or older than him—if not, they were perhaps the same age as he was.

But as another month passed, he began to pass out less, and when he did pass out, if wouldn’t be long enough to see that person again. While it confirmed that he did get stronger, he was irritated by the absence of such a warm presence. The only light that he had in the Abyss, and now it felt like he was losing it.

Stronger, I need to get stronger.

Ajax thought to himself angrily as he began to train even without Skirk. He continued to push his limits—training in the dark and heavy waters until his lungs almost gave out, training against stronger enemies using his Foul Legacy form, training against every other weapon that he could find in the Abyss. His bloodlust began to grow by the day as he relentlessly hunted the monsters that resided in the Abyss.

Yet for some reason, he no longer saw that person when he passed out. Did he recover too quickly? Were they going to leave him behind now? They wouldn’t right? Right?

He could feel himself losing his sanity, his thoughts full of silent pleas for that person to appear at least once every other day or so.

No, no, no, please. Don’t leave me here, come back.

COME BACK!

—

Childe needed to breathe.

When Ajax came back to Teyvat, he returned to his family cabin in Snezhnaya—to which he was welcomed back warmly and gladly with thankful sobs from his family members. Much to his surprise, he had been only missing for 3 days in Teyvat despite having trained for 3 months in the Abyss.

While Ajax missed his family so much, his thoughts were still plagued with the unknown warmth that he felt in the Abyss. Yes, he enjoyed the warm hugs and such affectionate love coming from his family, he enjoyed the warm sensation of his hands when faced to the fire of the cabin fireplace—but those, for some odd reason, could not compare to the comfort that he felt and witnessed first hand in the Abyss.

They were simply not enough.

It was a week after his return that Ajax looked up to the sky. The last shimmering gloss on his eyes reflected the clear blue skies of Snezhnaya that day, and he wondered if that was just the Abyss playing tricks on his head.

He sighed as he plopped down on the snowy ground. The Snezhnayan cold no longer affected him—not when the Abyss conditioned him with colder temperatures.

His hands twitch for a moment, just like it had been for the last week. He needed to move, to fight. He thought he could control himself, that he could return to just being his mother and father’s son.

But he couldn’t, and on that day, he ended up massacring all the ruin guards he could find in his region using his Foul Legacy form.

Ajax, stop, your body can’t handle any more stress.

His eyes widened after hearing a worried voice just as he was about to move to the next region—a small wave of warmth passes by him, the sensation was weak but familiar. He pauses for a moment, waiting for them to speak again—but there was only silence.

Where are you?

He looked around the snowy terrain, still in his Foul Legacy form. It took him a few seconds of silence before his body began to feel heavy—coughing up blood and collapsing onto the snow as he turns back into his normal self.

Where are you?

He repeats inside his head with desperation. He stood up and began to walk around, his other leg limping as he does so. His mouth was slightly agape, taking in shallow breaths of the thin air as blood trickled down his mouth.

Please, please. Answer me, where are you?

When he finally turned his head, he saw you.

Clear as day, warm as the sun.

His breath hitched as he felt your hand on his cheeks, your warmth constantly emanating and burning through his cold skin. He felt like crying right then and there, but he wondered if you were real—if this was real. He raised his hand to touch yours, and it did.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, your voice full of worry—yet its so soothing to his ears. It’s that same voice that Ajax could never mistake for someone else. Ajax just stares at you for a minute, too stunned to speak as he takes in your face. “Hey, you’re badly injured, we should take you home.” You suggest.

Ajax seemed to realize something for a moment. While he knew that the person he’s seen and heard in the Abyss was you, you were acting like a stranger to him—it confused him.

“You’re injured.” Ajax pointed out abruptly as he gently takes your hand off his cheeks and spins you around lightly, which catches you off guard for a second. “Who did this to you?” He asks, his voice low and angry as he runs a finger down your back—your spine crawls at the painful sensation.

“I got hit by a ruin guard earlier and passed out by that tree earlier.” You explained rather awkwardly. “But I’m fine now, so you there’s nothing to worry about. We should get you home since you’re in an even worse condition.” You say as you turned around to face him. “Can you tell me where you live? I’ll help you get there.”

Ajax tells you where he lives, and it surprises both of you that you two were neighbors. What a coincidence, how come you never saw in each other?

It was already midnight when Ajax returned to his family cabin, with you supporting him from the side. His mother was relieved to see his son back, but her concerned grew when she saw him covered in dirt and blood. She thanked you for accompanying him during his journey home.

You told them that you were going to leave, and Ajax couldn’t help but feel devastated by the idea—so he speaks to his mother, saying how you were also injured.

Naturally, as a loving and concerned adult that she was, Ajax’s mother told you that she could at least treat your injuries before you leave, and that you could stay the night in their cabin and return home the next morning.

The look of reluctance painted on your face somehow ticked something inside Ajax’s mind. He never questioned about what happened in the Abyss—how he heard your voice when he was on the brink of death, when he was barely going to survive. He simply concluded that it just happened, that your fates were intertwined so strongly that your voice reached him even when the two of you were worlds apart.

Don’t you feel the same? Why do you want to leave?

He wanted to be angry, but he can’t find it in himself to be angry at you—not when he thinks you’ve done so much for him, not when you saved him from the brink of death in the Abyss. You were his salvation, his one and only savior in this world—not even a single person from celestia came to put him back into his senses at the time, and for that he no longer believes in them.

He believes in you.

When you finally agreed to his mother’s offer, he felt glad—an understatement to the joyful emotion that he had swirling in his chest. He lets you sleep inside his room after being treated, and when you fell asleep, he took it upon himself to watch you.

He was kneeling on the ground, arms and head resting on the side of the bed. He continues to watch you in silence for a moment before he briefly caresses your cheek.

My god.

He lifts himself up a bit, enough that he hovered over your sleeping face. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead, feeling the comforting warmth that you had stinging his cold lips.

My universe.

—

Childe suffocated.

When he finally got recruited into the fatui, he was given a nickname, “Childe”.

Acknowledged by the Tsaritsa and the organization for having great strength at such a young age, he was given a chance to be promoted—to become a harbinger, but he had to sacrifice something or someone.

He was made to choose.

Blinded by the loyalty that he swore, he chose to sacrifice someone who would get in the way of the fatui ambition that he had. You.

With fates intertwined as strong as celestia, he was told by the Fatui that you would hinder his progress, his strength.

You were a distraction.

While Childe did return to be a fairly normal person ever since he had you by his side, the warmth that he felt from you slowly faded into something more common. Your warm hugs no longer felt special over time—it was as if you turned into another fireplace for him to stare at.

Snezhnaya was not as cold as the Abyss, and so he disregarded the need for something as warm as you.

So there he stood, in front of you with a knife held dangerously close to your neck. His hands trembled, and he seemingly fought every cell of his body from hesitating.

I just have to kill her.

He thought to himself, his inner voice lacking any sense of determination to do so.

You, yourself, was not surprised that he had come to kill you.

You knew this day would come, and you just hoped it wouldn’t happen to his family. While you were clearly against him joining the Fatui, you said nothing—a decision that you’ve come to regret every day.

As his hands trembled, you smiled sadly—closing your eyes as you held his hands. For a moment, his eyes widened, and everything turned silent as the sound of blood splattered on the ground.

Childe did not come home to his family that day like he said he would.

—

Childe has forgotten how to breathe.

“What do you mean you don’t know about big sister?” Teucer pouted, and Childe simply laughed confusedly at the young ginger.

“Who are you talking about, Teucer?” Childe asks his younger brother without a single shine of sunlight reflecting his eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about!”

“Big sister Tonia?” Childe raises a brow, but Teucer shakes his head with a frown—he was getting upset with his big brother now.

“The one you always brought to go ice fishing with us.” Childe doesn’t know what his younger brother was talking about.

“I don’t recall bringing anyone other than you when we go ice fishing by the lake, Teucer.” Childe spoke honestly and knelt down to Teucer’s level. “Buddy, are you sure you aren’t tired?” Childe asks worriedly.

Teucer shakes his head, still frowning.

Everything was so odd for Childe ever since he woke up this morning. Everyone in his family cabin had asked him about someone he doesn’t know about—his family claims that the two of them were close, very close, and they wondered why Childe no longer remembers them.

Who on earth were they talking about?

Childe asks himself as he holds Teucer’s hand as they walk to the frozen lake nearby. He wonders who that person was, and how he forgot about them if they were so close.

Once they arrived to the frozen lake, Childe couldn’t help but stare at the scenery for a moment. It was as if he was stunned for a moment from the aching sensation that he deeply felt in his chest.

It was the same lake that he’d visited in his entire life, yet for some reason…

Why is it so cold?

✦ this is kind of bad.. idk how to feel about this

✦ I didn’t want to write this because I hate angst + my sweet boy, but if I suffer I’m dragging everyone else with me

✦ would rather praise and worship him instead ngl

✦ there’s gonna be an extended version of this if I don’t get lazy soon so look out for that

✦ Yes, there’s ivantill reference there

[clavdere]

(The horse rider)

[marlin-blue]

i hope they rerun childe every single patch in snezhnaya, in both halves. second character banner permanently becomes farewell of snezhnaya. they revamp his kit everytime the banner refreshes. you get delusion childe, abyss creature childe, primordial sea thing version childe, foul legacy childe. there's childe in a knight outfit weilding a longsword, childe in official fatui regalia using a polearm, childe in an agent uniform with a catalyst and a set of daggers. little ajax with a wooden sword and no vision, with barely any dmg but he is literally incapable of dying. 1 hp forever. use him for three months and the next time he dies, the party automatically replaces him with foul legacy version. at the end of the third patch you have to pull at least one of his official weapons or you're locked out of progressing the story. you can't talk to npcs or open chests if you don't do it as childe.

[endlessskymaster]

Childe is the best big brother to Teucer, his little brother.

We actually get a glimpse of what Childe's family home looks like.