#i love you tartaglia

[mawlaeina]

“you remind me of the orange skies, the calmness of the ocean, the depth of the Abyss

how wonderful it must be to meet you, to see you do your work

to hold your blood stained hands as your blades take my life”

— Letters to Ajax

[tamorii]

"Hey girlie! Wanna hear me play Wonderwall?"

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Childe who purrs when he's sleepy, little rumbling murmurs and croons.

Childe whose teeth are a bit sharper than the average human's, but it only really shows when he laughs in that boisterous way of his.

Childe with patches on his skin, tough pieces of night-colored armor littering his body in random places when his guard is down around you. He almost falls over when you scratch around the edges.

Childe with nails that are just a bit longer and sharper, blackened at the tips of his fingers.

Childe who idly snuggles and nuzzles against you, ginger hair brushing over your cheek and arms around your waist.

Childe who occasionally growls when he's startled. His hair always fluffs up into a poofy mess, and you laugh as you smooth it back down.

Childe with fleeting stars in his eyes and a raspiness to his voice.

Childe with hints of Foul Legacy, bits of the Abyss that he lets free just for you.

[snail-migraine]

Yandere Tartaglia

This man is like a dog when it comes to his darling.

Sweet and caring to you but to everyone else he is a dangerous maniac who will attack anyone who dares to take a step too close.

I imagine that he probably found his darling when they were just wondering the streets.

No food, no water, no mora to their name. Nothing.

Not even a home or a family to go back to. Absolutely nothing.

Looking at your malnourished body, he felt both pity and anger.

How could someone, anyone for that matter, just walk by and let you slowly decay like this?

Certainly not him.

He decided in that moment he was going to take care of you.

"Shh, it's okay. Don't be scared. You're going be okay, everything is going to get better I promise."

He basically just picked you up, put up on his shoulder, and said "This is mine now."

In the beginning he tries his best to keep his distance, especially since he doesn't fully know what you went through on the streets.

And also you don't know that he's just trying to make sure you're okay.

It pains him to see you flinch away from all of his touches, when you refuse to eat for fear of being poisoned.

He doesn't know who made you so paranoid but all he knows is that he'll try to make your life as comfortable as possible.

And if that means he has to keep at an arms length, then so be it.

But everytime he sees you cuddle up close with the mountain of pillows and blankets on your bed, he can't help the burning jealousy he feels.

Why can't you cuddle him like that?

Once you start showing signs of getting better, your temper tantrums lessen in numbers, and you no longer flinch quite as hard when he pats your head. That's when he decides that now is the time to let loose.

"Sweetheart! Where's my sweetie? Where are you baby? Come here and give me some smooches."

The man is so smitten for you.

You have one of the most powerful men in teyvat wrapped around your delicate little pinky and you didn't even realize it.

He showers you with all of his love, from gift-giving, to quality time, to snuggling up together at all hours of the day.

You and him are practically attached at the hip.

However once you start getting better he has to go back to being a Harbinger.

Most of his job just includes him moving around a lot and not being able to come back home to Snezhnaya all too often.

Which means he either has to take you with him or leave you back at home.

As much as it pains him to do so he chooses to let you stay back home in Snezhnaya.

You've only just got use to being home in Snezhnaya, it would be cruel to make you start hopping place to place just to be with him.

It tears his soul apart that he has to leave you, but as a member of the Fatui, he does what he has to do.

He decides it's best not to introduce you to his family just yet, and instead allow you to be guarded by Fatui members when he's not around.

What he doesn't know however is that you plan on escaping when both he and the guards are not looking.

You're not much of a hassle to begin with so the guards have a tendency to slack off whenever they feel like it.

Which usually means taking short naps during their long working hours.

All you had to do was figure out when they usually fall asleep and prepare.

When the hour comes your more than ready, every fiber in your body is practically jumping with joy at being away from Tartaglia.

You wade through the thick snow of your Homeland, with a giant fur coat engulfing your body as you figure out which way to go.

In your excitement you don't think to cover your tracks. Which is how, when Tartaglia came home to an empty house with nothing but sleeping a guard to comfort him, he knew exactly where you went.

"Stop fighting it.", Ajax's tone drips with his barely contained rage. If his iron-grip on you wasn't a sign of his anger, then his voice for sure was.

Words couldn't describe how enraged you made him. He'd thought you been getting better, that you'd grown past wanting to run away. Turns out the moment he let his guard down is the moment you decided to sprint.

How dare you?

How dare you play with the strings of his heart like this. He trusted you with his heart and you just rip it all to shreds like it never even mattered.

His footsteps crunch in the crisp snow. His face no longer looks like that sweet, smitten, puppy dog that you knew. No this Ajax is cold, dangerous. The Ajax you knew was gone the moment he figured out you decided to run away from the sweet domestic home life you were so graciously blessed with. The Ajax you knew was replaced with Tartaglia the cold eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui.

The one who served the Tsaritsa with nothing but blind loyalty and bloodied blades.

You should've known that this plan would've failed. You should've known that Ajax would've done anything to get you back into his arms. Oh but how hope can blind the weak.

Hope prays on our dreams and tells us that no matter what we will prevail. No matter how many times we stumble and fall. Hope will guide the way. What a load of shit.

Hope is what got into this mess, carried like a princess, your arms held together tight behind you, your 'Lover' stalks his way back to the mansion hidden deep within the dense Snezhnayan forest. The very same mansion that has held you prisoner.

Hope has done nothing but lead you blindly into situations that progressively get worse and worse. You know that so far Ajax has been gentle with for fear that you'd get scared and try to run away. Now that you have, you tremble at what he might do to you now.

With every passing moment your mind fills with worse and worse images of torture you'd havr to endure at Ajax's hands. All because you allowed yourself to believe in some shitty hopefulness. With every new image, your lungs tighten even more. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your legs twitch. Every bone in your body screams at you to run.

But again, that's what got you here in the first place. Didn't it?

Ajax darts his eyes down at you, taking in your shakey form. Your uneven breathe and beating heart all tell-tale signs of how scared you are. How scared you are of him. Your terror must've taken over all of logical thinking.

No matter how angry you make him he'd never lay a so much as a finger on you.

Never.

He sighs before kissing your forehead, the kiss is soft and loving. Reminding you of the Ajax you knew. His face falls from the once tight expression to one more somber and melancholy.

Stress and disappointment etched onto his features. He loves you so much, and he hates that he'll have to punish you. But he can't just let you get away with this.

He brings you up higher, digging his face deep into the crook of your neck. Taking in a whiff of the sweet citrus perfume he gave you. You don't move, your body turned frigid the moment he kissed your head. You don't understand what's going on.

He lifts his head up, looking you in the eye. His eyes mimic a raging sea, waves of blue and teal swirl together to make a his powerful gaze. The look in his eyes is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You've never seen him look at you like that. With such sorrow and sizzling frustration.

He brings a hand up to your face, wiping away all the tears falling from your watery eyes as he coos in your ears.

"Oh baby, don't cry, there's no need to be scared. I'd never hurt you. I only want what's best for you. But I can't just let stunts like this go unpunished. I promise you, it'll be over before you know it. Okay baby?"

[yandere-romanticaa]

Despite the cheerful smile on his face, Tartaglia's eyes are like the sea - deep, dark and most importantly, terrifying.

No one knows what dwells deep within those waters and frankly, many are afraid of taking a dip in that endless sea of mystery. Who in their right mind would dare to see what this ticking time bomb has up his sleeve? Life is easier if you steer clear of him. Bow your head or simply leave, nothing good comes with dealing with the Fatui, let alone a Harbinger.

But to fall head over heels for one, well... That is a story worthy of the history books.

It was difficult to be with him. His lust for blood would never cease and the hunger for power would keep on growing.

That need doubled once you became a constant presence in his life.

Do you see him? Are you looking at him? He sure hopes so. Tartaglia lives for your words of praise, he needs it like air. Tell him he's the best even though he already knows that he is. Tell him that you love him, that you won't ever leave him and watch him take down the entire cosmos for you. Watch him come running back to you bloody and bruised, his tone quiet but sincere as he spills his undying love for you through his busted lips.

He is danger incarnate. Not even his co-workers want anything to do with him. But it's so hard not to fall into his strong, secure arms as he kisses you breathless beneath the shimmering moonlight. People avoid you due to your association with him and sometimes, you miss your old life. Sometimes you miss how the sun would kiss your face as your friends laughed behind you, picnic baskets in your hand as you made your way towards a clearing you all fancied. You can still recall the smell of fresh bread, various jams and the endless sea of fruits everyone would bring.

Those moments were true slices of paradise. They were simple but meaningful, powerful even.

Some things were more powerful however.

You traded the sun for snow. Warmth for cold. Comfortable uncertainty for caged safety. Friends who left you for a lover who was ready to kill for you.

Don't focus on them, the ginger man would tell you. You don't need any of them, not when you have him. And you would grip his jacket tight, so impeccably tight that your knuckles would turn pale. He would then proceed to kiss those knuckles with a gentleness a man like him ought not to possess.

Tartaglia was a walking contradiction of a man. And you wouldn't have him any other way.

🍒 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149, @thedeadbitchwalking, @osiial

[amourette]

working too long for their liking.

with my lovelies (i didn’t feel like doing kazuha or thoma)… Scaramouche, Tartaglia, and Xiao!

SCARAMOUCHE.

TARTAGLIA.

XIAO.

a/n : sorry for this being so short! i was just pretty bored and felt like making this :3 im going to start a xiao smau soon though… be ready! (or not, i lose motivation quite quickly 🚬…)

[seven-tastic]

has anyone else gone through this character pipeline i feel like i'm going insane

[pigeonpeach]

Their greatest weakness!

Aka genshin’s most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes greatest weakness or biggest turn ons. The easiest way to get them riled up and ready.

Arlecchino

In general you just existing makes her feel more… greedy. But often are the children surrounding you with innocence and naïveté so she keeps her hands to herself most of the time. But sometimes she wishes she could just pick you up and carry you away. Oh seeing you being so motherly warms her heart.

But she has her needs and whenever you’re alone her hands are often all around you. The easiest way to seduce her is simply just showing a little neck. She lovesss to mark your neck, biting and smearing lipstick all over. You’ll have to wear a scarf or collared shirts after but its a small price to pay. In particular she’s fond of ribbons and lace. Especially around the chest. She likes the idea of being able to untie your clothes like unwrapping a present. She will do so slowly and gently of course, she would love to use the ribbon to bing your hands or block your eyesight.

Jean

She’s definitely the easiest to seduce. She’s oh so repressed. Even seeing you in a simple low cut dress showcasing even the littlest of cleavage will have her reeling. A great way to lure her to bed and to take a ‘rest is to simply wear a nightgown more low cut and sweetly ask when she’ll be coming to bed. She’ll be rushing through work as soon as she can. If possible she will just ditch the paper and go to you right away. Unable to focus now that she nows what she’s missing.

Diluc

Anything. The sight if your thighs, your neck, your cleavage, your belly, your hips. Oh anything that is you. He cannot help himself when you show even the smallest of skin. Once when you went to the beach with him he quickly pulled you to a more isolated part to ravage you. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, you weren’t even wearing that lewd of a swimsuit but so much skin just sent him into frenzy. If you wore lingerie he would lunge at you almost immediately.

Ayato

He is much harder to seduce. Often he’s the one seducing you, his hands lightly tracing your skin to heighten your senses. He’s a big fan of blindfolds. So if you wear a sleeping mask he tends to get a bit mischievous. He won’t do anything if you’re unconscious unless you’ve given him permission to do so prior. Its not that he isn’t attracted to you, he simply has alot of self restraint

But to lure him from his office is difficult as he has a high self control. So subtle and innocent looks won’t work. He’ll know what you’re playing at. If you want to seduce him you have to commit and hard. Lingerie is a favorite of his. Especially if he catches sight of it under your clothes. The difficulty being that.. the get up you usually wear isn’t allowing of little peaks like that. So you have to be creative and direct. In general he likes begging. You will probably have to grovel too as you try to encourage him to come to bed with you. Then he will oblige.

Childe

Anything. If you’re with him he is likely obsessed with you. Like a drug any inch of you will drive him mad and wanting more. In his homeland however such revealing clothes are a liability. But oh how he lovessss your thighs. He often lays his head on them, bites them, squishes them, etc. thigh highs in particular will drive him insane. Stockings too. You could be wearing anything but if you’re wearing stockings or thighs highs it will drive him mad. You will not be walking straight.

Chlorinde

Ohhhhh despite her stoicism and professionalism she is down bad for you. Anything drives her crazy. She is great at hiding this though. In public she will simply maintain her usual professionalism. But in private? Oh she won’t be holding back. She won’t stop herself from taking what she wants where she wants. She can tell when you’re doing it on purpose. She is quite fond of gloves, lacy and transparent ones in particular. She loves to hold your hands in hers while in the act. Its such a intimate feeling to her. She loves lace in general but your hands are just so delicate to her. She loves feeling them on her too.

Thoma

Honestly touch is a big turn on to him. In particular light touches and body contact too. If you just pull his body close to yours, leaving no gaps in-between he’ll start to get flustered. If you sneak up behind him and start lightly touching him he’ll get all worked up and flustered. He’d be too embarrassed to do anything at work. That would take alot of seduction. He’d be pouting and trying so hard not to whimper as you easily would have him wrapped around your finger. He is easily aroused by the sight of your body. But if you start teasing him he’ll be following you like a dog on a collar

Wriothesley

Another thigh guy. He fuckin loves thigh highs an stockings too. He loves just ripping them off and burying himself in between your thighs. The best part to him is seeing you have to walk away in torn tights clearly showing what exactly you had been doing in his office. He loves mesh clothing in general because he loves just ripping it off. Like tearing wrapping paper off a box. He cannot resist it.

[meowkunas]

falling asleep on you !

w/ al haitham, wanderer, diluc, tartaglia/childe

a/n: under the cut because they got really long omg

al haitham likes to rest his head on your shoulder whenever he's tired. when it's in a more private setting, he'll lay his head in your lap instead. a loud, satisfied sigh will leave his lips once he's in this position. it's almost as though all the tenseness in his body simply dissipates once you start running your fingers through his hair. he rarely drifts off for a nap, but he looks close enough to peace when he's lying down like that.

it's the closest you'll ever get to having him be needy or clingy in any way. he tends to lean his whole weight onto you without explicit warning, so it's taken some practice to make sure you don't fall over on to one side — helplessly squashed.

there are signs to look out for.

you'll notice him staring at you out of the corner of his eye, making sure you're comfortable with how you're sitting before he places his head on your shoulder. sometimes he'll even mention that it's very "quiet and peaceful" before nearly knocking you over with a heavy slump.

when he's been kept up late for too many nights, he really will drift off to sleep. he's heavy and he makes your entire body ache from trying to hold him up, but you can't really bear to move him, especially not when he smiles in his sleep after you brush your fingers over his cheek.

he won't tell you that he always wakes from your sudden touch.

and with how cute he thinks you are when you're trying not to wake him, he doubts he ever will.

"i don't need sleep." wanderer announces proudly. it takes him exactly nine minutes to pass out after you promise that you'll keep watch while he's resting. you even make sure that he's asleep by waving your hands in front of his face to see whether his eyes twitch. nothing.

he doesn't even breathe.

his arms stay crossed over his chest and his hair falls onto one side. completely at rest.

still, this is the last thing you were expecting would happen. you resist the urge to touch his face. you haven't gotten that far with him yet.

unfortunately, you end up falling asleep beside him instead of keeping watch. there's something so comforting about his weight on yours, that you lean back into him, just to close your eyes for a few minutes.

the next time you wake is with the morning sun, and with a blanket haphazardly thrown over you. you fight with it for a bit, tangling your arms even further.

"oh good, you're up," comes the familiar, haughty voice. you expect to be berated for falling asleep, but he says something different instead. "thank you."

"huh?" you murmur intelligently. it's not fair that he does this when you're still groggy from sleeping.

he turns away, pretending he said nothing else. you smile at his back. guess he's still full of surprises.

diluc's very gentle with you. he's always been the one to beckon you over once he notices you yawning or when you look a little down. the way he caresses you while wrapping you in his arms is enough to send you straight to sleep. it's cozy.

but you've never seen him asleep before you. he's always been the one to creep back into your shared bed at the crack of dawn, when you're just awake enough to know that he's there.

this time, you're the one late.

he's already sleep — legs stretched out and turned onto one side. you take a single step forward and jump as he snores, disturbing the silence.

you crawl into the bed, facing the outline of his back. you reach out for him just to hesitate before actually touching him. what if he wakes up if you try to cuddle him? what if he has a really busy day tomorrow and he'll be frustrated with not getting enough sleep?

he answers the myriad of questions for you. just your presence must be enough for him to know you're there in his sleep. he ends up turning over to face you and bundling you up in his arms, letting out a huff. on the other hand, you're tense, unsure if you've accidentally awoken him or not.

"diluc?" you mumble.

the only answer is his steady breathing.

hope you're ready to stay squished in that same position for the whole night.

tartaglia pesters you with affection. he shows up at your door in the middle of the night sometimes, claiming he has "no where else to go right now". on certain nights, he'll be covered in blood that's definitely not his with a fiery look in his eyes as though he's set alight from the inside. he's not really there on those nights.

more often, he shows up with a cheery look on his face that disappears once you start to clean him up. you don't need to look at him to know that he's already staring at you.

tartaglia is always quiet in both types of nights; an unsettled nature or a calm energy. you're never sure what you're going to get.

but you know this: he would always show up after long periods of disappearing, even if it was just the smallest scrape. just to see you.

he'll be the one tucking himself in between your legs on the couch, no matter how many times you tell him that his legs are too long and he's way too heavy to lean back on you like that. but he does it. somehow.

when you start to grow tired from listening to his shenanigans, he becomes so gentle with you. he'll carry you to bed and hold you until you sleep.

he's gone in the morning, or maybe he leaves once he's sure that you've been lulled to sleep. either way, you know he was here. even if he tries to disappear without a trace.

he's always here on the nights that you sleep the best after all.

[luvkuvi]

P.S i still love you !

Childe x reader ☆ smau

Synopsis — Are his dreams coming true ? his high school crush suddenly appears to be his secretary! But those dreams were shattered when realizing you don't remember him at all. Will you give him a chance? or will the past repeat itself in where you reject him once more?

Genre — Boss/employee troupe, GN! reader, kdrama inispred smau hehe,cheesy and corny, fluff,crack, minimal angst, Childe had a crush on the reader but was turned down in highschool, childe is sort of a loser and simp, y/n is cool 🙏

Status — Not started yet!(will start after or when my scara smau is ending)

💌 — feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

Chapters: tba...

Business only × Job hunters !

Act 1 ★

01 — fired

Taglist(closed): @ravolix @wisteriaa-heree @hanilessa @gingerblxssxm @zamorazz @b2tr09 @elernity @idontevenknow129 @mykyoon @kokoscutie @moonplethxra @esthelily @auroratumbles @4thnocturne @aeongiies @kiokiee @yuminako @lylovw @nnasv @kazedaka @nicponi @startographist @kazegf @k1an4a @pinksodacan @rosaayumi @chaosinanutshell @arraxthatsonjah @dazaisboner @sakura0913 @angel-antidote @orionicchaos @mintea273 @haunts-gh0st

[popponn]

a bit of red. [childe x reader]

summary: your nose was bleeding. all while Tartaglia never once looked away.

notes: childe is a feral battle maniac but has traits of a genuinely good husband material. the mix is a funny fatui guy. those are the only thoughts that exist as i write this down. warnings: light blood and injuries, sfw, blood licking, reader and childe’s relationship is best described as "complicated frenemies with something going on", reader’s gender unspecified.

“Oh, they got your face, huh?” Tartaglia asked, cheerful in a very wrong manner as he put a hand on your shoulder.

Without sparing him a glance, you could already feel the taunting smile in his tone. You gave him a muffled grunt as a reply, your hand still busy rubbing your bleeding nose as you glared at your own feet. You really should have paid more attention to that one guy with big wood.

Also, why didn't Traveler tell you she also asked for the Eleventh Harbinger's help for today? You really weren’t in the mood to spend alone time with him for—

“—are you listening?”

A hand grabbed your chin—rough and quick, yet not harsh enough to hurt you—pulling your head to turn to your side where Tartaglia had already stared at you with an unamused frown plastered on his face. You knew, logically, you should have slapped his hand away and gotten ready for combat—you have enough brain to remember that Tartaglia is a seasoned fighter and a shady person meshed into one no matter how friendly he acts towards you. Yet, at the same time, you found yourself blanking out the moment you met his eyes.

“Really, don't you at least know that you shouldn't rub your nose when it's bleeding? That's common sense, you know,” Tartaglia said to you. It felt like he was scolding you like a child.

You, whose head was still filled only with empty statics, could only reply to him with a dumbfounded blink. “Huh?”

Tartaglia raised an eyebrow, his face still wearing the uncharacteristically serious expression. “Come on—they didn’t hit your head that hard, did they? It was only a wood to your face, I had hit you with something harder than that.”

Which wasn't wrong. He pretty much already threw lightning bolts and hydro blades to your face numerous times during your regular scuffles with him.

“I…” you opened your mouth. You wanted to defend yourself, but you had to acknowledge the fact that what you did was indeed pretty dumb. “…I was not thinking.”

Hearing your response, Tartaglia looked at you exasperatedly. It should be insulting, considering it's Tartaglia—but seeing the obvious fondness in his face, you found yourself once again being unable to react much. Or perhaps, it was because of how you had come to notice that his hand had moved away from your chin, when he pressed his thumb lightly and softly against the skin above your lips, wiping off the blood that still trickled down from your nose with a lopsided smile befitting of his charming, youthful face. A few moments passed, and you continued to let him without any chirp of complaints.

Then, slowly, at some point, that smile shifted into a different one—wider, sharper—as his eyes darkened without moving away from your profile. “…well, the blood does suit you though.”

“Hu—?!”

Within a second, there was a mouth and a pair of lips on your face, right above your lips and below your nose, as you felt a hand forcefully drag you forward by your collars. It happened so quickly, sparing you not even a second to react as a tongue—Tartaglia’s—slithered out and licked a few droplets of blood off your face, smearing out some of them in the process. Your eyes were wide open as Tartaglia pushed his face against yours and dragged his lips down. Ending whatever the fuck he did with a light peck on your lips.

And when you finally find it in yourself to breathe and blink once again, Tartaglia’s face was already somewhere further away from yours. You still tried to process what just happened when you spotted the self-satisfied look he wore—not too full of his brand of odd brightness, all while the way he licked at his lips and wiped the leftover red away with his fingers told you enough. Faintly, you could still feel the heat of his hand from the tight grip he let remain on your clothes.

Tartaglia looked at the almost invisible red on his gloves for another moment. Silent with a look you were not quite ready to decipher just yet. Your whole body still stood stiff, frozen by something that was both surprising and pleasant that crawled through from the insides of your spine.

This was not the first time for the both of you to have your lips smashed against each other—but this would be the first time Tartaglia wore a look like that when doing so.

Good Archons.

“What the fuck, Childe.” You snarled at him, almost spitting in every syllable. You glared harshly at him, deciding to focus more on the stunt he just pulled instead of humoring the stupid thoughts your head was starting to come up with. You were not dealing with that when there were unconscious treasure hoarders laying around you in some foreign nation’s wilderness.

Tartaglia, hearing the way you angrily called him by his title, finally seemed to be back from whatever odd trance he just had. Within a blink, his expression switched into one that was far more innocent. A few creases away from confusion, but at least he still had enough decency to manage out a nervous laugh as he let go of your clothes. Still carrying his usual air of confidence, he rubbed the back of his head and offered you his usual smile—secretive and untelling no matter how sweet it looked.

“Wow—okay. I mean, sorry. I don’t know what suddenly got over me—ha ha ha!” Tartaglia apologized as if he was some adorable first date who got too much into the heat of the moment and kissed you. It would have been much cuter if he was not some rascal who just licked the blood on your face. As if it truly was something out of adolescent impulsiveness, Tartaglia took out a handkerchief and offered it to you. “Here, here—let me wipe that blood off you for a bit. Want me to press on your nose for you too? Oh, wait, do you need to sit—”

“That was disgusting. That's common sense,” you spat at him without making an attempt to stop him from dabbing his expensive silk handkerchief on your face, letting the young Harbinger step into your space once again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I really am! I really wanted to help you—I didn't mean for it go to like that!” Tartaglia insisted nonchalantly, repeating his apology as he swiped the fabric across your nose and cheeks. “But, yeah.”

You glared harder at his sudden pause, “But, yeah—what?”

“It really looks good on you,” Tartaglia said, breathlessly and honestly, never once stopping from tending your face as if he was caressing you. A sincere smile—resembling a loving one yet not quite one—etched itself on his lips as a shadow of something flashed along with it. Once again, it nearly stunned you again.

If only it wasn’t about you having a nosebleed.

Trying your best to not take a sharp, angry deep breath, you decided to grit your teeth instead. There were certainly many different thoughts that heat up your whole head for many each their own reasons. However, first thing first—

“Okay, we are done!” Tartaglia loudly cheered as he pulled his hand away from you, taking a few steps back away whilst looking at you like some proud handiwork.

“Thanks,” you blandly said, before turning and walking away, “now, let's go. We still have a few more camps to do for Lumine.”

Following your steps easily, Tartaglia returned to his place beside you prior and nodded enthusiastically at the thought of more fight. “Right! Aah—hope the next one is—”

Coldly, you cut him off, still walking calmly beside him, “Tartaglia.”

“Hm? What?”

“For the next camp, go get injured or something.”

Tartaglia made an offended noise at your suggestion. “Hey, I said sorry already! No need to—”

“I will make sure to return the previous favor when you bleed,” you said, cutting him off again without a hint of joke in your tone. Your eyes stared straight at his startled ones.

Tartaglia held the look of rare surprise for another few seconds. He seemed to be truly caught off guard—but not for long, as with a barking laugh, he returned your words with a wide grin you had seen he wore numerous times in every battle the two of you shared. “Is that so?”

You silently cursed at Lumine once more for making you keep working together with him. Many times enough that you could reply unflinchingly. “Of course. So go ahead—do something funny.”

“Will bleeding from any place work? Is it only for one wound or is it for every wound I get?” he asked, interest displayed clearly in his tone. Of course, the battle maniac had started to treat this like some recreational excursion. “I’m quite sturdy, you know.”

You didn't even try to humor whatever he truly meant by those. As the next camp and chest came into view, you spared him a glance, eyeing him through your peripheral.

“I wonder,” you said. “Depends on my mood and how funny you were, maybe.”

“Oh, really,” Tartaglia mocked out a swoon, readying his blades as they formed in his hands. “You truly are the best sometimes.”

[mawlaeina]

Imagine it’s your wedding day.

Your friends, family, and other close relatives are invited to witness you make your vows with your significant other. It’s the happiest day of your life—supposedly.

Childe helps you with your dress and other preparations, a tender yet somewhat forced smile on his face as he knows that his closest friend is going to get married to a man he’s barely acquainted with.

He knows this was a marriage of convenience, arranged and agreed by both parties. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy and hurt when he saw you being on good terms with the other guy.

At least you were happy, that’s all that mattered. He tried convincing himself to push his own happiness aside, gaslighting himself that he’d be happy so long as you were happy.

You smiled lightly at him as he finished helping you with your dress.

You looked stunning.

Yet he couldn’t help but frown a bit at the thought that this dress wasn’t for his eyes to see and appreciate when you’re going to walk down the isle.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him, clearly seeing he was upset.

“I almost feel bad for the groom to have you as his wife.” He joked, chuckling emptily.

It didn’t seem to convince you, and the way you gently cupped his cheeks caught him off guard. You smiled softly at him, reassuring that everything was going to be fine.

He swallowed nervously as he gazed directly into your eyes. There was a small glint of sadness in them that bothered him.

“Do you really wanna get married to him?” He asks you, a sincere yet vulnerable look in his eyes that you don’t usually see.

“No.” I spoke honestly and sighed lightly. You were silent for a moment, gathering enough courage to say the next words out loud in front of him. “I wish it was you.”

Childe froze, an unreadable but also clearly shocked expression painted on his face. All at once, multiple waves of emotions crashed his brain.

But the gnawing regret that he felt the most—the regret of missing all of his chances to confess his feelings to you.

You misunderstood his silence, and forced a smile instead. “Thank you for helping me with the dress.” Your voice was strained as you spoke.

Then you left, your steps reluctant and your eyes a bit regretful as your mind raced—was telling him a good choice?

Maybe the timing wasn’t great.

But you wanted him to at least say something. You wanted him to ruin the wedding, for him to sweep you off your feet and rescue you like some prince charming.

Childe stayed in the room, and the second you left, he knelt to the floor as his knees seemingly gave up.

Oh.

He thought he could be happy so long as you were happy.

But now he knew that you weren’t, and it left him devasted.

✦ okay.. I definitely don’t like the way I wrote this (its so badly written help)

✦ saw a tiktok post about genshin wedding day or something, and my darling dearest ajax was the one helping me with my dress and he was my best friend? NO *cries*

✦ I’m going to marry that man and no one else, even if it breaks the laws of physics

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Me, Us, and You

Synopsis: You've been used one too many times, and find comfort in the arms of those you love.

Foul Legacy x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Warnings: Mentions of being used as an emotional outlet

~ * ~

“Hey… why do people like using me?” Foul Legacy looks up from the chunk of crystal he was batting around, tilting his head curiously. You catch his gaze, inquisitive and concerned, and sigh. “…Sorry. It’s nothing.” He frowns with a quiet trill. Not good- he’s seen this habit before, your way of pushing down your emotions, never speaking a word. Legacy shakes out his fur, rising to his feet and crossing the room before plopping down beside you, chittering in worry. His claws knead against the carpet, nudging and pushing up against you gingerly until you finally huff out a laugh and weakly shove him back. “…You get what I mean." He does. Far too well. He’s seen it happen, from behind a corner as Childe; idly twirling a coin between his fingers, walking up to meet you at your favorite restaurant, or merely happening to pass by on the street.

One, two, three. Then more. The number of times that you’ve been treated as a mere outlet. You’re too kind for your own good, too patient, too understanding. Why can’t you get angry? Why don’t you tell off the people who start using you as an object to vent their emotions to- or at least tell them no? Instead you just smile and nod, offer your advice even when you don’t know what to say since you don’t even know your own feelings and what they mean, but you try so, so hard to lift them up, help them feel strong, better, braver. And they do. They smile again, nod, laugh. Sometimes they take your advice, sometimes they just want someone to agree with them. Whatever the case, they leave lighter, and you leave with a new burden in your arms. It’s fine. You don’t mind carrying it for them, as long as they’re happier- you insist that it makes you happy if they are, too. But inside it still hurts, knowing you only exist when someone needs you to listen. When you need to fulfil a certain role or do something for someone.

They started getting used to it, too. Pulling you into conversations as innocently as a lamb only to pour forth a tidal sea of issues and frustration. They cry and rant and yell and scream and then pat you on the back with a smile with a see you soon and talk to you later. One even paused, looking at your tapping fingers, your focused expression, and told you to write things down. So you could remember them for later, if more things came up- we wouldn’t want you to forget, now would we? A pause, a strained smile, as you fished a notebook and pencil from your bag. It made dread coil in your chest, a heavy weight over your heart. That’s right. You only matter as long as you have use.

There’s a croon, and you blink, shaken from your daze. Foul Legacy stares down at you, crystalline eye wide and anguished. No. No, no, no- he hates that you think of yourself like that, as someone, something to be used. He crawls towards you, cupping your face in his claws and letting out a soft, saddened warble. His wings twitch and flutter, curling in your direction as if he wants nothing more than to cuddle you close and shield you from all the dreadful things in the world, because he does, his instincts scratching at his skull and hissing, biting, gnashing the source of your hurt, trying to vanquish it in battle and make it disappear. Protect. Heal. Love.

Legacy squeezes you a bit tighter, pressing your head against his lavender fluff, grown soft with how much you brush and fawn over it. You think he’s beautiful- you’ve told him before, time and time again. Beautiful, lovely, wonderful- why can’t you see how amazing you are, too? How much you help, how much you matter? Even if anyone else can’t see past their own nose, he knows how much you deserve to be showered with gratitude and affection. His gentle nuzzles shift and crackle lightly, turning to soft skin, scarred hands massaging your arms. Childe presses his forehead to yours, his despair on par with Foul Legacy’s, murmuring frantic words of reassurance filled with tears. Nothing, nothing, nothing. That’s all you ever call your feelings, your wants and needs. You’ve spent so long supporting others that you can’t even remember anything you desire, truly, nothing at all. He caresses your cheek, looking deep into your eyes with an oceanic gaze. Please, tell him something you want. Anything. Please. You shudder, and desperately reach your arms to him. Childe meets you halfway, wrapping you in a firm, tight hug and pressing his face against your shoulder.

He wants to give you everything, yet he knows what you need most is someone you can just exist with, not to help, not to complete a task for them, but just to be in their- his- presence. If you listen to his woes, ever, not even the Archons would be able to stop him from listening to yours, because you deserve it. Friendships go both ways, the world seems to have forgotten. Childe was your friend first, and he’s your friend now, and your love, your Harbinger, your sweet, monstrous Foul Legacy, and he adores you with every fiber of his being. Childe peppers kisses over your face, one hand human, the other armored talons, both him and his Abyssal half comforting you. Yes, they get what you mean. They get what you mean all too well, aching and weeping and watching you suffer again and again, wringing yourself dry for people who toss you away once their problems are solved.

But not with them. Never again with Childe and Legacy, forever by your side. You have no tears left to cry, but they still hush you, gently. Shh, shh… it’s alright. Everything will be okay. Childe sighs as he pulls away, tracing your features with a finger and holding back his own sobs, steadying his voice against his resentment towards the world for your treatment. “Talk to me. Talk to us. Please.” For us, we love you so.

[theoutcastwrites]

Make You Mine - Childe x Reader

Almost 4 years ago I started obsessing over Liyue Qixing Secretary!Reader x Childe and never did anything about it. Now the dynamic is stuck in my head, 4 years later, and I'm ready to write miniscule drabbles about them, coated in longing and yearning and the like. Hooray

The soft, silver glow of the moon seeped through the open windows, illuminating scarred skin and hair as golden as cor lapis itself. Childe lay with his back facing you, sound asleep, ignorant of the countless thoughts that swirled in your mind. The unwillingness to say goodbye; the sheer desperation to keep him in your field of view; the fear of being exposed, once and for all.

If these thoughts raced in his head during the day as they did in yours, then he did a better job of not showing it than you ever could.

You shifted behind him. His tanned skin, littered in scars and freckles alike, was more than just a sight you wished to remember; you wanted to memorize the placement of every little blemish, every freckle, so that you could recognize them by touch alone. How many battles had he seen to acquire this many scars? How many of them were near-deadly for his skin to become so marred? How did he remain so gentle, with all the bloodshed he had witnessed at such a young age?

You figured you should simply ask him next time. Childe would happily tell you - though he might gloss over the more gruesome details to save himself from the pity you would no doubt offer - but he would tell you nevertheless.

Biting your lip nervously, you reached out a careful hand to trace his shoulder blades. He didn't react to that - still sleeping, you thought, and took it as a sign to continue. With a featherlight touch, your fingers trailed his broad shoulder, his bicep (you fought the urge to squeeze the muscle there, appealing as it was).

Childe was unfairly beautiful at his barest. Every man in Teyvat should envy him and strive to have half the charm he had; but maybe they shouldn't bother trying. Who could ever hope to compare if not the gods themselves?

Your fingers stopped at the back of his neck, where they were tickled by unruly ginger hair. You had half the mind to kiss him there but there was no point in waking him. Childe had to leave early, anyhow.

Rex Lapis must not approve of your relationship; because Childe had to leave for Inazuma on your only day off work and, to make matters crueler, you couldn't even walk him to the docks. Under better circumstances, you would have kissed him right by his ship until he could speak nothing but your name. Under better circumstances, he would have held you tight, regardless if there were people around to see, and you would have happily returned his embrace. Until such a day came, you would have to do with fervent touches at illicit meetings.

"I'll bring you gifts," he'd said hours earlier, "whatever you want. Name it, and it's yours."

"What if I only want you?"

He laughed, as though you hadn't bared your soul to him in that confession,"but I'm already yours."

"Then keep being mine. No matter where you go, just come back being mine."

Childe smiled wide, with cheeks dusted red and eyes crinkled around the corners. A kiss, and then:

"You say it as if it's not the easiest thing in the world."

Come morning, he would vanish without a trace, leaving naught but a cold bed in his wake. His sweet words, surely half-forgotten by Childe himself, remained in your head like a painful reminder of what you could never fully have.

[yandere-romanticaa]

I'm just thinking about how terrified people would be of Tartaglia.... He is protective but not in the way a dangerous dog might snarl at someone, no, his threat is an equal mix of subtle but obvious. It's an oxymoron but he manages to make it into that very specific package.

His arm is always slung around your shoulders, a massive grin on his handsome face as his piercing blue eyes stare down at anyone who thinks they could get too cute with you. He doesn't see himself as the jealous type but the thought of another person's hands touching you just rubs him the wrong way. He laughs that carefree laugh of his, the sound reverberating deeply in his throat as his adam apple bobs up and down in a teasing manner but he never once looks away.

The eyes are a window to the human soul and no one is sure if he even has a soul.

He is cold, dead, dark. Deadly. Not someone you want to spend the rest of your days with. And on paper, you agree with that sentiment.

But the thought of running away perishes from your mind the millisecond it comes because, how could you? The way he holds you is so sweet, so gentle, like you are the only thing he cherishes. His touches are feather light and his kisses are an aphrodisiac, they always make you crave more and more, you can never get enough of him.

And that is how he plans to keep it.

[chkn-kit]

omfg how is it 6 am already

ANYWAY I SAID I'D DRAW THEM but all I can offer are silly sketches rn :'D