#tw ajax

[politeparadox]

Making a post here to share my experiences with Ajax/Kuai/Nick/Vampiricdogs/AtaruTerrier

TL;DR: he is extremely volatile and in my opinion not a safe person to be around. I believe he is running a high control group. I urge others to be cautious around him.

Information will be added below when I get more energy.

• His mods are required to send them his full ID (under the guise of making sure they are 18 or older)

• He requires them to defend him in any controversy, otherwise they are his enemy

• he will blame his mods for not settling his paranoia

• he actively claims to utilize cops and lawyers against those he doesn't like

• if something happens online, he expects and requires mods to send screenshots of their messages, their dms, their Twitter dms and logged in Twitter accounts and each of those Twitter accounts' dms, their discord dms, their photo galleries, their deleted photos, etc. This can last several days. Repeatedly sending new and updated versions of all of these.

• If you refuse, you are dubbed a threat to him.

• as a threat to him, you are subject to more monitoring and screenshot and alibi requirements.

• you are not allowed to talk about the server outside of the server

• should you become his 'enemy', they will talk shit about you. Whatever tbh, this is common in my experience, but others are deeply upset by it.

• he revels in his BPD. He excuses his explosive temper, his volatile behavior, his harassment of others, his refusal to own up to what he has done with said BPD.

More to come

• he expects only comfort for his wrongdoing. He does not let anyone hold him accountable for his actions.

• He oversteps boundaries often and repeatedly

• he tags people in his NSFW and kink messages, even when they are fringe kinks. I don't care that he has them, I care about him tagging random people in them.

• he peer pressures people to roleplay his OCs even when told no repeatedly

• he harassed my partner for Over a month to get him to break up with me. He never did btw, he just told Ajax he did so Ajax would stop harassing him about it. Then, not even a day later, tried to start a FWB situation with my partner.

(He claims this was not manipulative. I think trying to get someone to break up with someone just to ask them out is at least very shitty if not manipulative and abusive)

• asked me to step down as a mod and leave his server because my boundaries included, but were not limited to: don't pressure me to roleplay, don't tag me in NSFW, and I expect us all to hold ourselves accountable

Add: Ajax, ik you're reading this because you can't resist seeking anything out about you. I did not tag you because I'm not fighting you. I am stating facts about my own experiences with you. You're blocked on my discord, and have been since you started harassing my partner to dump me. If you want to talk, message me here. If you become volatile, you will be blocked, and I will share screenshots. You do not scare me, you annoy me at best. You are not the powerful god you think you are man. Get therapy. You don't get to hurt others and get mad when they speak out about it.

[b3grim3d]

My experiences with Ajax/Ataru/Kaui/Nick.

I had originally met Nick in late December of 2023 via Toyhouse. Things had started out simple and innocent enough, he found one of OCs there and he even commissioned for a ref sheet for an OC of his. He then invited me to his public community server based around Mortal Kombat, and after that things quickly began to spiral out of control.

He'd frequently DM me to try and talk about his series he has been working on for some time and then it eventually went on to him wanting to roleplay. I don't roleplay anymore, and at the time I hadn't for awhile and had tried to explain it wasn't something I do. He continued to push that I should "give it a try" and wore me down for hours regardless of whatever reasons I'd try to dismiss the idea until I finally relented.

His Mortal Kombat server was deleted after he had gotten into a confrontation with another friend [now ex friend] of his accusing him of harassment and abuse. I should've seen this a sign to leave, but with what he had shared what had happened and with what I had been shown at the time, it just felt like a personal matter that was being made public and by then I was already feeling apprehensive of it being safe to leave. Nick would frequently vent about feeling lonely and of people leaving him, and I didn't want to be "one of those" to join in leaving him.

I felt like I needed to frequently give him reassurances because he'd freak out constantly, and I suppose by then he started catching feelings. By March he confessed he was crushing on me, and I didn't know what to say. I'm aroace, and have been very comfortable with that identity and have a difficult time identifying my feelings towards people and told him that I would need time to figure out if I felt the same. He said that was fine only to come back an hour or so later to see if I had made up my mind. While it was in DMs, the frequent rambles on his end about his feelings, and how I've seen behave around others, I felt cornered and exhausted and said I felt the same so we started a relationship.

Throughout the ten months our relationship lasted, he continued to make demands for things, framing them as "partner activities". He'd have me draw his OCs as icons for his Toyhouse pages, and that escalated to him asking me to draw his characters for his series. And then it turned into him asking me to work on large pieces of concept art and a comic for a trailer as well as posters. He expected this to all be for free, and while I had started working on some of these, I would slowly stop working on them as I wasn't getting paid nor did these feel like mutual activities to do. These were beneficial to him only. I never worked on the posters and tried suggesting the idea of payment as he wanted several posters with different designs, and when I had brought it up, another alter in his system remarked that I shouldn't charge him all for the sake of us being partners.

He pushed frequently over the summer to move in together, and being a college student, my one main thing that I wanted to do was graduate before moving. He hated it, and would berate me and snap at me for wanting to finish school and constantly asking me why I would want to finish school if I complained about it. I had been assaulted on campus a couple years prior and my abuser from highschool was in a class of mine during the spring semester of 2024, hence my complaints. But he would constantly push me to move out with him and for me to drop out. It made me feel stressed out beyond belief to have all this responsibility thrown at me. Having already grown up in an environment where I actually needed to take on adult responsibilities to care for another completely, I felt like I was regressing to that point in time of my life and like I needed to bend over backwards to do what I could to prevent him from sinking, all the while drowning myself.

I even went as far as asking both of my parents for help in potentially moving Nick to where I live. My mom politely explained that she did not feel comfortable with having a stranger in the home, especially since we did not have a solid plan or timeline to follow. I understood, but Nick became hostile towards me when I relayed that to him. My dad was willing to help, even offering to save up for a camper to allow us to live there but Nick refused due to me not living with my dad and because he has a fear of cis men.

I have C-PTSD, along with ASPD, OCD, autism and DID. All of which affect me deeply, but whenever I would have symptoms become noticeable, such as my tone being flatter in calls, or dissociating and not being as responsive, or having specific thoughts and compulsions that interfered with his day to even the most minor degree, he'd grow irritable and snap at me. And when I'd try to explain where my thought processes were coming from, he'd brush me off and say that I sounded too upset and refuse to talk to me until the following day. So I stopped talking about my issues, only mentioning that some days I may catch myself having more obvious symptoms of my disorders, only to get in response a TikTok slideshow on how to interact with people with BPD.

Over the past 10 months he would frequently ask and demand for money. Overall I estimate about 4-5k of my own money has gone to him. 1.5k of that going to a fursuit I felt like I needed to give him after a week of constant vents and calls of him crying over how he doesn't have his own belongings and wanting so desperately a fursuit. Other times I would pay for his rent or when his bank account overdrew I covered it. I've even gone as far as to help with paying his artists and voice actor for his series. He'd frame everything as a crisis where I had even resorted to asking friends for money and I would pay them back over the span of weeks. Guilt would eat me alive and yet he held no shame in asking me to ask my friends for money again, and I refused to do so.

He often berated me for not picking up on cues right away, so now I'm holding him to that same standard. I would try to pick up to the best of my ability what his needs were and try to accommodate how he needs things, but he never did the same for me. He financially, emotionally, mentally and sexually abused me. There are plenty of other smaller instances I could easily bring up but this is what I'm bringing up first and foremost because I felt they were the biggest examples of his dangerous and honestly disgusting and vile behavior. His system is nothing but enablers of harmful behaviors and coddle him massively and are no better.

Under the cut I have written out my experiences with him under sexual contexts that I did not want just freely out for the comfort of myself and others.

Nick if you ever see this, I don't want to debate this, I don't want to hear from you or anyone else in that system of yours. Fuck off and leave me be.

We had begun to sext each other early on, and trying to perform other activities. Me being aroace, at the time I had labeled myself indifferent to the idea and willing to try. I gave it a try but eventually realized it was not something I was comfortable with. When I voiced it, Nick became furious and accused me of lying to him about me saying I was okay with it. I went along with it to avoid further conflict, but I never lied. I had changed my mind. Through even after this he continued to press on to do erotic roleplay and nag for porn art for me to draw. While the demand would sometimes die down for small periods of time, he'd ask frequently.

I have also felt pressured by his insistent pleas and constant vents of how his being hypersexual was so painful he needed someone to assist him to perform kinks he was into and sext him as I was doing so. I felt disgusting and severely uncomfortable. I was fetishized for being fat, and felt disgusted for being fat due to it. I never found it charming, I never found it encouraging it. It was gross and unwanted to constantly have my body commented on.

None of this consented. This was assault. This was sexual abuse.

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hi! I wanted to say I absolutely adore your art and headcannons! I wanted to ask if you would be interested in making a headcannon for our lovely harbingers where there is someone trying to sabotage their relationship with the reader like for example the person is saying that the reader is cheating or is saying mean things about the harbingers and that they have ,,proof" it is if course a lie. Don't force yourself to do anything you don't want to tho!

(Absolutely genius idea! Sorry to keep you waiting! I’m a slow writer…)

✦ When others try to sabotage your relationship with them

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

(tw: general mentions of violence and blood. sfw) 

Being intimate with a powerful Fatui Harbinger provides the illusory dream of having riches, power, and status. Some watch you with hushed murmurs as you accompany your beloved with linked arms, looking all elegant beside him. Perhaps some people cannot comprehend how such a ruthless Fatuus can even court someone like you. Others simply cannot comprehend that status and money is not a key factor in your relationship.

✧ To crossfire with Pierro is to go against every single Fatui Harbinger. The Director is known far and wide as a man of cold words and power beyond the seven nations. All valuable intel and actions are reported to him first and foremost, as even the top Harbingers bow before him. You, on the other hand, were not meant to bow before him. The Jester shall never let you lower your head, because it is he who shall stoop to worship you. 

However recently, a certain rumor reached his ears. His spies related to him info that certain Fatui soldiers, some lowly commoners at the bottom of the ranks, are spreading uncouth jabs about you and Pierro. Intel states that these fools think you infiltrated the Fatui and The Director’s inner circle by some intimate provocation and seduction; that you’re in it for the money and status.

Pierro’s gloved hands gripped the papers. Nevertheless, his expression is placid as always. 

Thus, the culprit now sat in Pierro’s office, trembling as the room oozed with murderous silence. The Jester never raised his voice, nor did he question the man who “joked” about you. The fellow kept spitting apologies, begging for mercy. He knew it was futile to lie or waste the Director's patience.

And the Jester? It took everything in his power not to get his gloved hands bloodied. To hear someone accuse you - his most cherished, as a shallow harlot? Consequences shall be faced. Calming his boiling turmoil, Pierro continued to conduct himself professionally:

He made sure the man and his entire generation met their oblivion. 

With the recruitment of his best spies, he ascertained that the culprit’s disappearance was not felt by a single soul, his entire family gone, and all traces of spread rumors eradicated. Above all, it was orchestrated so that you would remain unaware that anyone dared to tarnish your reputation.

You carried on with your life, blissfully unaware and undisturbed. Even now, you came in knocking on his office, asking: “Long day at work, honey? I can bring you some tea or coffee if you want.”

The Jester's smile returned, throwing away some crumbled documents into the trash can - “A tea break would be excellent, my divine.”

If it’s blood that needs to be spilled to protect you and his private affairs, then Pierro won’t think twice. 

✧ For Il Capitano, the way of the blade speaks more for its wielder than words. If you wish to prove your stance, you better be prepared to face the First Fatui Harbinger, as his might will test you in a relentless duel of strength. So what do you think happened when Capitano overheard someone calling you “weak”? That his beloved does not deserve an ounce of his attention, because you are a meek being compared to the Harbinger? 

His hand instantly found its place on the hilt of his claymore. He left no room for negotiation or doubt. He marched straight towards the culprit, unsheathed his weapon, and pointed the sharp point of his blade straight at the person.

“If you are so confident to spit such insolence about them, then you must be equally confident with your strength. Let your blade speak.”

The poor fool tried to defend himself with excuses. But his mocking meant nothing to the Captain’s weapon. Before you know it, there is an ongoing duel initiated by Il Capitano. The witnesses know that whoever is on the receiving end of his wrath has no chance of surviving. Not when a single swing of his weapon causes craters on the ground.

The man was about to collapse, accepting his violent demise. But just as Capitano was about to unleash his final lesson, your voice rang out amongst the crowd.

“Hey! Cease this commotion at once!” - you stepped up, your expression stern as you stood in front of your beloved. In a rare moment of vulnerability, the Captain’s already stoic body language shifted. His claymore was sheathed back to its place.

“My beloved, you shouldn’t have seen this…”

“And yet I did. It would’ve reached my ears anyway. What did I say about temperamental duels, Capitano? Morons are not worth it.” 

“He called you weak. I cannot allow it.”

For a minute, Capitano kept his head hung low in reverence. You stood with your arms on your hips, scolding him. Was it not for your intervention, that person who vocally mocked you would’ve been lying dead now. Instead, you spared the offender, and the man was allowed to flee in humiliation. 

The conflict was eradicated, and Capitano's imposing demeanor showed he didn't regret his actions. Considering how even Capitano bowed to your words, the accuser realized - you are not weak. Because if there was one person who made the First Harbinger go motionless then it was you. 

✧ Today was a good day for Il Dottore, but you weren't sure why. He was a tad clingy, his steps laced with a sense of giddiness. Giving you extra squeezes while hugging, smothering you with longer kisses on the cheek. Even as you sat idly in his lab, you watched him as he worked on some paperwork with a grin.

Thus you questioned him, lazily strolling around his lab and observing the countless tools or vials. But he waved off his excitement, tapping his pencil over some papers - “Nothing of major importance, but I did have something interesting happen recently.”

You raised an eyebrow, beckoning him to continue.

“An idiot made a pathetic attempt at spreading rumors about us.” - You stopped in your tracks, going still as you held some miscellaneous container with what seemed to be tissue samples. The Harbinger continued: “Some fool spoke behind your back; stating that anyone who is close with a heretical scholar is bound to be equally insane. They thought that if their words didn't reach you, then it's of no consequence.”

Your expression fell somber with each word Dottore spoke. He said it with such profound avidity, that his voice demonstrated threatening intent behind them. So he continued. “But you know me, dear. Nothing goes past me. Vile nicknames are nothing new to me. My work is not for the faint of heart, and those pesky cretins enjoy concealing their fear with profane titles. And they can call me whatever they want. However, I won't allow them to call you names. Not because of my work.”

You averted your gaze sadly onto the samples of veins and organs in vials. You pretended to inspect them, but your sorrow was more prominent. You suspected Dottore already did something, hence his unusual giddiness today. Thus, you inquired in a soft whisper - “So… what did you do?”

“I handled it, naturally.”

“...You did? What happened? To the person who said such things, I mean.”

“What happened? Dear, you're holding them in your hands right now.” - Il Dottore beamed, pointing at the vials of organs you held. 

✧ Today, Scaramouche was eerily silent. You were accompanying him during one of his work expeditions, aiding him with certain formalities regarding his Fatui subordinates. The 6th had soldiers working under him, and although he did not care for their training, he did not tolerate any incompetent weaklings.

Therefore, you decided to lend a hand. You helped conduct a training program for his underlings, making sure all standards were met. It’s not the first time you did so, since The Puppeteer often placed you as the second in command whenever he was absent. And the Fatui soldiers did not conceal their thrill - it’s like you were their favorite substitute teacher who was more cheerful and forgiving than their superior.

Either way, Scaramouche saw that the mission was going smoothly. But soon, lightning would strike. A certain Fatuus, an agent in training, was getting too charmful with you. It was during the usual training assigned by you, and this person was focusing more on his conversation with you than his training:

Telling you how you are a remarkably skilled person. How it’s a marvel to see someone so delightful as you working alongside the Balladeer. How you shouldn’t waste your time with someone as aggravating as Lord Harbinger Scaramouche. He’s even leaning closer towards you.

You smiled uncomfortably, your attempts at polite disagreement did not work with this agent. Yet now you felt the static in the air, and that’s when you realized - Your beloved heard all of it.

On this usual, unassuming morning, Scaramouche walked silently and struck a man with lightning. All eyes turned towards the commotion as you stood behind the Harbinger. His fists were clenched, sparks of electro crackling from them.

He may have been silent the whole day, but don’t mistake his silence for impassivity.

“Next time, know your place,” - he seethed, standing over the person who endeavored to sweet talk you. He permitted his subordinates too much leeway, now they dare charm you with empty flirts. Scaramouche would’ve stomped that man’s head if he wanted, but he wouldn’t create such a grotesque scene in your presence. Instead, he turned away, held your hand, and pulled you away.

He gave you a day off, his mind already conjuring plans to deal with his underlings later. At least he scoffed out an apology. Not for what he did; he does not lament that. Just a small ‘sorry’ for giving you a quick fright. The lightning strike was very loud, after all. 

✧ Pantalone often gets invited to luxurious meetings or extravagant galas. Any party that is attended by the richest man in Teyvat is a guarantee to make high-society elites turn heads. However, considering your prolonged relationship with your darling Pantalone, you know he secretly despises these social gatherings. Therefore, he takes you with him. Dressed in your finest, Pantalone proudly shows you off to the pompous aristocrats.

People would watch enviously, thinking to themselves: The Regrator’s sweetheart, spoiled by his riches. Your attire is as glorious as his expensive suit. His arm is tenderly linked with yours, always offering you his hand like a true gentleman whenever you two walk. Even as he conversed with various business partners, he always had to make sure his hand was around your waist or your hand.

This dotting behavior made certain ladies of Snezhnaya jealous. They could see you were not a noble-born, nor were you used to the attention during such gatherings. You just timidly accompanied him, and Pantalone kept rambling about you and your benign achievements. Childish, really. You’re probably someone who just ran after and clung to the Harbinger until he relented to keep you. Therefore, a group of ladies initiated the conversation: 

“It’s a pleasure to meet a man such as yourself, Lord Harbinger.” and “Why, a man of your status is probably seeking some interesting company. Oh? You are with someone? My, my, I did not notice them.” or “Surely you desire connections worthy of your status, sir.”

Pantalone had mastered the art of courteous smiling, yet even his act was about to crack. He noticed the way these ladies tried to stand too close to him, pretend you were not in the picture, or even passively mock you. Their insolence stenches, and noticing your silent discomfort caused his heart to sting. But he had a plan.

“Why yes, you are right,” - Pantalone smiled with his charming looks “I do value my time, and it’s important to not waste it on shallow conversationalists. Oh, but it’s such a shame that the people in front of us are just that. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Pantalone turned to you, his arms encircling your waist while speaking such backhanded comments with triumphant smiles. The ladies’ smiles fell instantly, and you tried everything to avert your gaze. “Um, Pantalone? Maybe we shouldn’t-”

“Shouldn’t bore ourselves with such lowly individuals? Hmm, I agree. There isn’t much to do here anyway, only the greedy will seek something in this superficial gathering. Oh well, let’s go so I can take you to dance, dear.” - Pantalone concluded in his usual enamoring tone “Ladies, if you would excuse yourself.”

In this world, the 9th of the Fatui Harbinger doesn’t excuse himself - others do. Therefore, he took you away, scoffing and checking up on you with hushed whispers. Pantalone was offended. Why do they assume it was you who desperately sought out the rich Harbinger? Little do they know it was Pantalone who used to run and seek your attention just to be yours. Honestly, they’re discrediting his neediness for you. 

✧ Should anyone meddle with Tartaglia’s personal life, they are picking up a brawl. Someone dares to flirt with you? His fists are ready. Someone said something unwelcoming about you? Anything in the vicinity can be used as a weapon. Someone endangers his relationship? Their life is now in danger.

Of course, you’re the one who consistently yanked him out of these fights. Usually, it’s nothing serious, as when you scold your boyfriend for such reckless behavior it ends with his heartfelt words and apologetic chuckles. He finds solace in embracing you from behind, gently enfolding his arms around your shoulders, reassuring himself that all is well.

However, Tartagia is still a Harbinger. Away from home, he’d personally search for intel on the culprit who dares to offend your relationship. Names, records, locations, anything to keep tabs on those who think they can drag his family into bloodshedding matters. Tracking is of no issue, after all, when he was still a young rookie, training as a Fatui agent was just the first step.

Once he determines the offender, he’ll pay a discreet visit to them. And this time, without you dragging him away from fights, there is no place for mercy or jests.

At night, Childe returned home, cheerful as the sight of you getting ready for bed welcomes him. Yet in the dim lights, you’d gasp and approach him with concern, catching traces of smeared blood on his face or hands.

Ajax would just smile; he didn’t need to explain. Instead, he would quietly approach you from behind and envelop his arms around your shoulders in quiet stillness.

[averaillisa]

lil doodle 💧🔥

[l1tw1ck]

Till Debt Do You Part

Bottom!FTM Ajax x Top!FTM!Harbinger Reader

+ FTM voyeur Pantalone

🌊 Word Count: 1,709 🌊

Ajax pays off his debt to Pantalone by giving you his body

AFAB Language Used | Reader (He/Him) has bottom + top surgery

CW: Non-Con/Coercion, Size Difference, Voyeurism, Virginity Loss, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Masochism, Asphyxiation, Belly Bulge, Creampie

Pantalone purposefully omitted the fact that Ajax will have to pay Pantalone in return for the money he borrows from him. He's so naïve that he didn't even think to ask. Now, Ajax has finally racked up enough debt to allow Pantalone's repayment plan to go into effect.

The poor harbinger steps into Pantalone's room, completely unaware of what's about to happen.

"Tartaglia, you haven't been paying me back lately." Pantalone says, leaning against his desk. "Do you know how much you owe?"

"Pay you back? You- you didn't say I had to.."

"Is it not a given that you must return what you borrow from someone?" Pantalone tilts his head.

"I'm sorry...I didn't know."

Pantalone chuckles and brushes the hair out of Ajax’s face. "It's okay, you can pay it back with your body."

"My body? Like fighting?" Ajax perks up, happy to hear that he might be fighting even more.

"No, I mean intercourse." Pantalone smirks.

Ajax frowns. "But I've never...Is this my only option?"

Pantalone wants nothing more than to see Ajax become ruined.

"Yes."

"..Fine." He sighs. "Are you going to have me do it with the soldiers..?"

"Of course not, you're too precious. And what would I gain from that? My trusty colleague will be the one to have you." Pantalone smiles. "I owe [Name] a great debt, funnily enough.” He originally wanted to use Ajax himself but once you came back to Snezhnaya and met him, you got Pantalone to pay off the debt he owes you by giving you Ajax’s body.

Tartaglia should feel relieved but he doesn't. You're scary, and by his standards that really means something, and around the same size as Pierro and Capitano. For you to be his first time…

"[Name] bought you something special." Pantalone says, turning around to open his desk drawer. He takes out a human sized collar. "Isn't it cute? It suits you." He walks behind Ajax and puts the collar on for him. It feels strangely intimate.

"I…I guess..” He touches the name tag. It’s fitting, everyone calls him the loyal but rabid dog of Snezhnaya.

Pantalone places his hands on Ajax’s shoulders and leans into his ear. “He’s waiting for you in his room. Make sure to be a good boy.”

Pantalone enters the room with Ajax in front of him him. He looks like a cold puppy. You chuckle. “I was right. The collar does look good on you.” You walk towards him. “We haven't had many opportunities to interact, have we?” You rub his cheek with your thumb.

“N- no, sir..”

“He's a virgin, you know.” Pantalone smiles.

“Is that so?” You turn around and sit down on your bed. “You wouldn't mind helping him learn the ropes, would you?” You begin freeing your cock.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Pantalone makes Ajax walk towards you. “C’mon, kneel.” He kneels in between your legs, Pantalone kneeling next to him. He guides Ajax’s hand to your length. He’s in shock by your size. He glances at your chest as you remove your shirt, then at your arm. Custom made. It definitely suits your build, despite its outrageous size.

“Now, lick it.”

Ajax frowns and nervously darts his tongue out, licking your length. It doesn't feel or taste as bad as he thought. He glances up at you for a moment before looking back at your cock.

"Try to put it in your mouth." Pantalone gently touches Ajax’s body.

Tartaglia gulps and opens his mouth, trying to take it all in at once. It reminds you and Pantalone of a certain pink video game character. He gags when your dick hits the back of his throat.

"Just start with the tip, puppy." You chuckle softly. He gets more red and does as he says, wrapping his lips around the head of your cock.

"Pretend it's a...popsicle." Pantalone brushes Ajax’s hair from his face. He starts bobbing his head up and down while looking at Pantalone for approval.

"This is how you eat popsicles?" You groan in pleasure, gently wrapping your hand around the back of Ajax’s head. "How cute." You run your hands through his ginger hair, admiring his charm.

“Isn’t he?” Pantalone carefully snips off Ajax’s shirt. “Don't worry, you won't have to pay me back for your clothes.” He says, knowing exactly what the ginger is thinking. He starts to grope the rookie’s breasts with his elegant fingers. “You're surprisingly soft.” He hums.

He’s extremely embarrassed but he keeps going. Once he starts something, he's determined to see it through. Even if it's something like this.

“You're making me impatient with those words, Pantalone.”

Pantalone giggles softly as he unbuttons the ginger’s pants, then reaches over to slide his hand inside. “Every meal deserves to be savored.” Ajax’s t-dick gets a cold hug from Pantalone’s slender fingers.

Ajax moans and stops.

Pantalone uses his other hand to spank Ajax. “Nobody told you to stop, sweetheart.”

Ajax does his best to keep going despite how sensitive his body is. “Mmh!” His eyelashes flutter beautifully.

“There you go.” Pantalone purrs, sliding his digits into the ginger’s entrance. “Good boy, all nice and wet for your master.”

Ajax’s ears redden. He looks up at you and the redness travels to his cheeks, a shudder down his spine from how turned on you look. You look, and feel, so aroused and the fact that it's his fault is causing so much internal conflict. It's not bad if he likes this, right? You want him to feel good too, don't you? He adjusts his pace, filled with motivation to please you.

Your groans of pleasure are starting to become music to his freckled ears. You grab a fistful of his hair and keep him still. Ajax’s confusion disappears once he feels your seed filling his mouth. He closes his eyes and swallows it all up. As your hand drags him back, his tongue gives your tip one final lick, a string of cum dripping onto his chest.

“Is that it?” He asks.

“Of course not. Do you know how much you owe?” Pantalone chuckles and helps Ajax stand up. “You’ll be doing this for a very long time, rookie.”

“That's right.” You wrap your arms around Ajax’s torso and pull him onto your lap. “A couple years at least.” Your mouth latches onto one of his nipples.

Ajax throws his head back and moans. A couple years of this sounds like a good deal. Your hands travel around his body, feeling up every inch of him, before landing on his ass. You gently grope him.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Pantalone asks, groping the ginger’s unattended breast. Ajax nods. “Say it.”

“I like– I like it~” He shivers as your cock comes back to life and happily leaks pre cum onto his stomach. You pull away, now he can really see your cock again. He stares at it with hearts in his eyes.

“See that, rookie? That's how deep he’ll be inside you.” Pantalone makes a line with his finger over the tip of your cock. “He's gonna fill you up, right to the brim.”

Ajax moans. You get up, holding him up as you do, and lay him down on the bed. You remove the rest of his clothing as Pantalone sits next to him on the bed.

The banker gently runs his fingers through Ajax’s hair, comforting him as you take his virginity.

“Mm-” He grips the bedsheets. Pantalone licks his lips, watching a bulge appear in Ajax’s stomach. Ajax slightly arches his back. “Big–”

“It hurts?” Pantalone asks. It's obvious from his tone of voice that it turns him on rather than worries him. “Don't worry, rookie..” He kisses Ajax’s forehead, his hand trailing down to grope his tits.

Ajax moans.

“I think he likes that it hurts, Regrator.” You notice a subtle change in the ginger’s expression.

“Is that true, cutie?” Pantalone coos.

“Mhm~” He mewls at the feeling of his nipple getting pinched.

“How about this?” Pantalone squeezes Ajax’s neck, the tag on his collar resting on top of his fingers. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“I think you should suffocate him with something else.” You wink at the regrator.

“Yeah? What do you think, rookie? You want me to sit on your face?”

Ajax shivers and softly nods. Pantalone smiles and starts removing his clothes. Ajax stares at his superior with curiosity. He's never really thought about it, but looking at him now, Pantalone is definitely his type. Ajax scans his body as the older man adjusts his position, from his hardened pink nipples to the scars beneath his chest and to the trimmed black hair hiding his undoubtedly beautiful pussy. Ajax’s gaze remains fixed on him as he opens his mouth, more than happy to be suffocated by it.

Once you stop moving, Ajax can tell you're completely inside. It still hurts but he doesn't want to wait until it stops. You're on the same page as him and start fucking him.

Pantalone slowly grinds on Ajax’s face, twitching with pleasure from the vibrations of Ajax’s moans. The bed creaks as your thrusts become rougher. You praise him as your hand trails over to his t-dick, making sure he knows how much you appreciate his soft, wet pussy. His body shakes violently as he squirts.

Pantalone feels his own orgasm approaching as he watches Ajax’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He doesn't stop licking the older man’s cunt even as he starts to become overwhelmed and lightheaded. He didn't think sex could feel this good.

“Yes~ like that, Ajax~” Pantalone lets out an airy moan. He slides his fingers through his ginger curls. “Good boy…taking us so well..”

“We should've hired you for this instead of combat. You won't mind if I take him on a ‘vacation’ from work, would you, Regrator?”

“As long as you let me join from time to time.” He puts all his weight on Ajax’s face as he squirts, his slick sliding down his face.

“Of course.” Your orgasm quickly follows Pantalone’s, your seed pumping him full. You watch Pantalone get up and look to see if Ajax is still conscious.

“So good..” He mumbles before passing out with a smile on his face.

[neuvilletteswife4ever]

Hii! First time on youe page!Requests? Bet. A performance was demanded of me...And now I have delivered...ENCORE(I miss my fnaf phase ok?😭)

Well, here is the request. Yandere fatui harbingers with a darling who is on a hunger strike(bacically refuses to eat unless freed).

Ty 4 reading my request.

YANDERE FATUI HARBINGERS X A DARLING WHO REFUSES TO EAT

Warnings:

Kidnapping, no consent, killing, unhealthy obsession, torture, force-feed, needles

"Eat! Eat it!!" Scaramouche yelled at you annoyed while trying to force a spoon into your mouth. You refused. You wouldn't eat until they freed you from this miserable place. You didn't care if you starved. But you knew that they wouldnt let you starve because of their lovesick obessions. No way that you would starve on their watch.

"Eat it." Dottore said coldly, his voice making shivers run down your spine. The other fatui harbingers agreed as they stared into your soul. Gosh...you were sick of those lovesick smiles.

"I'm not hungry..." You said turning your head away and crossing your arms.

"Now now, come on dear, don't be like that now." Tartaglia stared at you, his eyes filled with lust and obsession. Pantalone agreed.

"Right, and then who would i spoil with gifts if you died from starvation?" He said, his smile wide as he enjoyed your scent, your beauty, everything about you.

"N-no. Not happening, I refuse..." It was obvious you were hungry, but you couldn't break your promise to not eat until they released you. All that starvation for what? To end your promise now? You wouldn't give up that easily. That's not you. You know better than that.

Everyone sighs deeply, as they glared at you.

"I'll only eat (a tiny amount) if you remove this chain from my ankle.." You managed to mutter out.

*The Fatui Harbingers eyes widened. The thought having you roam around free without them constantly gushing over you was ridiculous. It was obvious that you'd attempt to escape if they did remove the chain.*

"My dear, my dear. You leave us no choice." Arlecchino simply says, her eyes darkening as the others suddenly looked even more obsessive than they already were. You wondered what she meant by "you leave us no choice".

The Fatui Harbingers kiss you (without your consent) and leave the room. They make sure to have atleast 500 fatui agents outside of your room to prevent you from escaping. Even if you had a chain on. But they couldn't take the risk. Especially after your previous attempts.

1 Hour Later

The doors to your room opened and there they were. With fatui agents (the fatui agents were blindfolded because the fatui harbingers didn't want anyone to simply look at you, even the slightest.) carrying 50 dead corpses to your room. The corpses looked familiar...wait! Those were the corpses of your relatives and friends!!

"Now, let's make a deal my love. If you don't eat, we will kill anyone that's dear to you." Capitano smiles obsessively behind his mask.

You saw your mom and dad brutally tortured to death based of the injuries. You began bawling your eyes out as you felt a sharp pain in your back. It was Dottore. He injected a sharp needle that would make you faint and be unconscious for some hours. They forced your unconscious body to eat.

When you woke up you saw Columbina patting your head gently in bed as the other fatui harbingers watched you sleep. Their eyes never leaving. It made you really uncomfortable.

"Isn't it just better to obey us, love?"

(Im sorry if these are cringe and weird. Im still learning how to write proper yandere stories.)

[seajacksonz]

welcome to the motherland, comrade!

[http-taru]

i think childe likes to be mothered in a very concerning way. he'll want to be the man of the house while you stay at home and keep everything nice and clean and tidy and warm. he'll want to have you see him off and greet him with warm, open arms when he gets home, holding him in your embrace as he "accidentally" shoves his face into your cleavage. he'll want to have meals at the dinner table where he discusses his day and how hard it was, how happy he is to have someone like you to look after him. i can see him being pretty obsessive with you, monitoring your every interaction because why are you paying attention to someone that's not him? smiling at someone else instead of him? again? he's warned you time and time again about this, now he's got to get his hands dirty once again, but that's okay. he knows that even when he arrives home covered in blood you'll welcome him with that sweet, sweet smile, and tell him everything's going to be okay.

[yandere-sins]

OMFG I absolutely LOVE your writing and the overall creepyness of it💕😩 May I request a yandere childe with a crybaby s/o who Gets scared way too easily? Ik this might be basic but I really wanted to interact with you 💗🥹

Aah, thank you so much, you're so sweet! Sorry it took me so long, but thank you for requesting and interacting with me, I appreciate it! I gave the reader a good reason to be scared this time, hope that is okay! ♥

Extra Warning for Murder, Blood Mention

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Shh, babe, what's wrong? You don't have to worry about them anymore."

A calloused hand caressed your cheek, the other arm wrapping around your body as Childe drew you close to him. You were shivering, sobbing in his embrace. Still, he didn't seem to mind at all, a gentle smile on his face as he cradled you, having had more than enough practice with comforting his siblings to know how to comfort you. With the weight of his head on top of yours, you were nestled perfectly in the crook of his neck, his hand wandering back to brush down your hair while the one at the small of your back rubbed its thumb up and down. It was a perfect hug for a perfect darling, as Childe liked to call you. But there was one thing off about it.

The stench.

The squishy, wet feeling smeared all over your cheek and soaked into your clothes, together with the biting, iron smell of blood that stuck to him. Or perhaps it came from the corpses that lay behind his body, shielding the view. Or maybe you were only imagining it. It was hard to believe that you had just watched people die, their deaths caused by this almost stranger's hands. These people were your friends, and yet you couldn't believe it was real.

"I-I'm scared," you stammered, barely able to get the sound out of your throat. "They- They're d-dead."

"Oh, that's true," Childe replied, his voice full of pity and gentle reassurance. As if it hadn't been him who killed them. As if it was a coincidence, you stumbled over the bodies when, really, your friends had been laughing and talking next to you just mere seconds ago before Childe struck them down out of cold-blooded malice.

More tears dripped down your cheeks, countless of them. You were in too much shock to scream and run, but the flow of tears seemed endless as regret, guilt, and horror mixed. You felt nauseated, and yet you couldn't throw up, couldn't do anything. Frozen in place, you listened to the rapidly beating heart of the monster comforting you, feeling Childe take a deep breath, letting it out with a content sigh.

Whatever he was feeling, he seemed... proud of it.

You whimpered miserably as he pressed you tighter against his chest, swaying you side to side before pulling away a few inches. Not enough to let go of you, just so much that he could look into your eyes. Instead of pupils, there was only endless darkness, the moonlight dimly reflected in them, causing swirls of infatuation in the madness that was his gaze on you. Even with barely any light, you could see your own scared reflection. The blood stain on your cheek, the shock etched in every inch of your features.

"You need to keep it together, babe," Child whispered, the same broad, boyish grin on his lips that he had the first time you met him. Where you still thought he was a good guy, helping you carry some groceries home and inviting you to see the festival with him. You had to tell him "no" back then, since you already made plans with your friends. But now, they were no more, and he remained. Only now, that grin was nothing short of psychotic, standing in stark contrast to his eyes so devoid of emotions and the gore on his clothes.

"The guards will be here soon. You wouldn't want them to find you covered in the blood of those people, would you? They might think you did it."

Humiliating as it was, you could see your features grow desperate as a sob escaped you, your eyes crinkling as more tears fell. Childe hushed you again, pressing his lips to your forehead and kissing it over and over as he told you everything would be alright. That he wouldn't let anyone take you or take the blame for him. You could only listen half-heartedly as your feelings threatened to take over your whole body, controlling it and cementing you in place.

It had always been this way for you; the tears were your lifelong friend. Crying was the reaction your body knew best, whether in good or bad situations, and there wasn't much you could do. As a child, you had been mocked for being a crybaby, and as an adult, you were pitied for not having better control over your emotions. Fear had been your constant companion. Whether it was about making a mistake or not feeling like you were good enough to finish a task. You soon began fearing your own incapability, but no one—sometimes not even you—understood that this fear was a force to be reckoned with, one you were completely helpless against.

Unless there was another person stronger than it.

"Aaand up!" Childe proclaimed, having stood up and gripped your hands in the time you spiraled into anxiety and desperation, the overwhelming guilt not helping. But suddenly, you were on your feet despite the tears still falling. Even though you didn't know how to move or act. First, he had comforted you for the crime he committed, and now he did what you had never managed before—pull you out of the trance of your fears.

"Let's go!" he announced chipperly, a slippery, bloody hand gripping yours so tight that it hurt. Jerking you forward, you could only watch Childe's back as he began to run, laughing carefreely as if the death of your friends didn't bother him. As if he was free, unbound by laws and those feelings, you felt so strongly.

Only when you looked down did you notice your own feet moving—rapidly, swiftly. You didn't need to look up as Childe led you through the labyrinth of people who were so occupied with the Lantern Rite in Liyue Harbor that they didn't notice the two blood-soaked individuals passing through.

Breathing was hard, moving was straining, and his grip on you was relentlessly painful. Yet, neither of you stopped until you were already partway up on a mountain outside the harbor, Childe panting just like you, trying to catch his breath. He collapsed with a groan on the dirty trail up the mountain, and with your hand still in his grasp, he pulled you down with him.

It should have hurt when your body was forced to give out, but you landed cushioned in his chest and on his lap. The vibrations of his laugh against your skin felt weird, your senses not yet having returned fully. Lifting your head, you saw the countless lanterns rise to the sky, illuminating it beautifully with the people's memories of those they lost—and you should have been there, lightning lanterns for your friends.

"There we go," Childe muttered, catching your attention as he wiped over your cheek, sticky skin against more sticky skin. Only now did you realize that your tears had dried up, and you looked at the monster that had both made you cry and took care to run them dry—literally.

"You're a pretty crier," Childe sighed, the glow of the lanterns returning some life to the blue in his eyes. Or perhaps the sight before him returned his emotions to him, making him almost look normal despite the red stains. "But I like you better when you're happy. One of us has to."

Leaning his head on your shoulder, Childe reached for your hand, giving it another tight squeeze. Above you, the night sky was filled with beautiful lights, the view even better than from the harbor itself, but you couldn't forget even a second of what had happened that day. That you weren't enjoying this view with your friends, but with some murderer you barely knew, who had pulled you out of the sadness in your heart, only to leave it empty, no feelings able to fill it.

"I'll keep you happy," Childe promised, a faint blush on his cheeks that reached up his ears. "Everything will be the way you want, so you don't have to cry anymore."

Only then did you realize what it truly meant to be afraid, sitting on the lap of someone who thought manipulating the world to his liking would make you happy. Someone who didn't bat an eye before killing an innocent soul. Someone determined to make you feel as empty as he was, just to keep you by his side.

And when Childe looked up grinning, you managed to wipe the smile right off his face, a tear dropping down your cheek.

[tartagliove]

TO DEVOUR tartaglia x reader ✧ 1.3k words

childe would never wish the curse of being a vampire upon you. but you eating a pomegranate paints such a pretty picture that he can’t help but give in to some of his desires.

tags and warnings ✧ vampire!Childe, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), he’s so obsessed with you, sfw but suggestive, finger sucking, he licks you. note ✧ hm. i’m having Tartaglia lick reader in a lot of my fics… um. anyway. this idea came to me as I was eating pomegranate last night! it falls after the events of my vampire!Childe fic (bloodlust!! blood…love?) coming on february 14th and since I couldn’t figure out how to put it into the fic, I’m sharing it separately. hope you enjoy!

vampire!Childe hears you before he sees you.

The pomegranate skin tears beneath your hands, each seed plucked from the white membrane with a soft snap. The arils pop, bursting between your teeth before the seeds crack under the pressure.

Your signature scent of vanilla and cinnamon sugar grows stronger as he finds you in the dining room, sitting at the table with a plate of the split open pomegranate before you. The seeds gleam a dark ruby under the steady, soft flames of the candles. You look up when he enters, a smile spreading across your face.

"Welcome back, Ajax. How was your day?"

He pulls out the chair beside you at the table, settling into the seat and resting his chin on his hand. His eyes track your every movement as you pluck more pomegranate seeds, his predatory gaze cold and blue, yet you do not flinch under his stare. 

“It was good! Very eventful,” he says.

There’s a satisfied curve to his lips. You raise an eyebrow, noting the healthier tint of pink beneath his skin as your fingers work to loosen some seeds. “Tell me, who had the misfortune of fighting you today?”

His smile turns into a full-blown grin. Of course you’d be able to tell. “It was a shapeshifter today. I don’t think I got to see its true form, but that doesn’t matter. The forms that it changed into during our fight were exhilarating enough!”

He continues to tell you about the fight as you eat the pomegranate. The seeds crunch and a pleased hum leaves your lips as the sweet and tart juice spreads across your tongue. His eyes darken at the noise.

You don’t notice, only focused on the sound of his voice as you break off a new segment of pomegranate. As the flesh tears apart, your hand slips and a few arils burst under the pressure of your fingers. Dark red juice sprays across your skin and sinks under your nails. You let out a small huff of disappointment but carry on with eating the fruit. Each time you lift your hand up to your mouth with ruby kernels between your fingers, the droplets shift across your hand.

Childe watches the deep red juice trail down the back of your hand, meandering past your wrist. It continues to slide down your arm, glistening and taunting him under the candlelight.

He fails to realize that he stopped talking until you hold your hand out toward him, a small pile of pomegranate seeds resting on your palm.

“Do you want some?” you offer.

“No,” Childe manages to push out.

The rough edge to his voice makes you study him, taking in the way his pupils have almost fully eclipsed his iris. He had been staring so intently at you eating your fruit that you thought he wanted some. “More for me, then.”

You lift your hand to your lips, tilting your head back to toss the palm full of arils into your mouth. When you pull your hand away, he notices that your lips are stained a few shades darker than they normally are, a deep red clinging to them in a way that makes him think of you eating—drinking—something else. The trail of pomegranate juice that has made its way down your arm beads at your elbow, before the droplet falls onto the table with the softest plop.

Childe snaps.

His hand flashes out, fingers curling around your wrist. 

You look down, eyes wide at the way his hand flexes as he battles his own strength and desires, his fingertips angling away from you to protect you from his too-sharp nails. Eyes moving up to his face, you see his gaze is fixated on the pomegranate juice dripping down your arm. 

Realization strikes and a coy smile curls at your lips. 

Leaning in toward him, so close that he can feel the faint brush of air against his skin, you whisper, “Are you sure you don’t want any, Ajax?”

His eyes snap up to yours, all dark depths of the sea. When you give permission in the slight incline of your head, he raises your arm and lowers his head.

There’s a moment where he pauses. He takes a second to listen to the flutter of your heart, feeling the tremors of your pulse beneath his fingers. Though you look unaffected, your racing heartbeat betrays you. It pleases him immensely to know that he has this effect on you.

Then, Childe opens his mouth. Sharp and elongated canines come into view before his tongue darts out to catch the pomegranate juice about to drip from your arm. He locks eyes with yours as he continues to follow the trail of red staining your skin, his tongue warm as he laps and licks, not just tasting the fruit but also tasting you.

When he reaches the back of your wrist, he unfurls his fingers and turns your arm so he can run his tongue over your pulse and the thin skin where your scent is stronger. 

The pomegranate juice is sweet and tangy. If he imagines hard enough, the tang can turn into a more metallic bite, as if you had just fed off of someone—as if you had fed off of him, it’s his blood trailing down your arm and staining your lips red. At that picture, Childe pulls back from you. A moan escapes him as his eyes flutter shut, breaking eye contact with you for the first time for a shiver to run through him.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds you staring at him, eyes dark and wide, lips parted, enchanted by his beauty and in awe of the reaction you draw from him without having to do a thing.

He flashes you a satisfied smile, showing gratitude for letting him indulge in his vampire instincts. Childe will make it worth your while.

Pulling your arm toward him, he lifts your hand to his mouth. His tongue laves across the back of your hand, tracing the trails of red weaving across your veins and tendons. He licks the webbing between your fingers, scraping his teeth over the flesh between your thumb and pointer finger. Then he cleans your fingers, one at a time, putting each one into his mouth and sucking gently as his tongue works over them. He spends extra time at your fingertips, licking at the nails that have been stained a deep red. Yours are so different from his own, he muses, filed blunt so you can work without the fear of breaking them.

Finally, Childe pulls away. He is satisfied with how your hand is now clean, yet you’ve been turned into an utter mess. 

Your face feels too hot and you’re squirming in your seat. He can hear your heart fluttering away in your chest, sees how your shoulders rise and fall as you take shallow, rapid breaths.

He can’t help but tease you more. “What’s the matter, hm?”

He kisses your fingertips, then nips at the pad of your pointer finger. A whimper escapes your lips; the sound so sweet to his ears. You shift a bit more, so flustered under his piercing gaze as you struggle to come up with a response.

Finally, you manage to piece together a stammering, “W-what has gotten into you? You can’t just- you can’t do this to me!”

The grin on Childe’s face is downright devious. He stands, moving before you so his legs bracket your knees as he leans over you. “Do what? I’m just kissing you.”

“How was any of that kissing? You were devouring me!” Your eyes nearly cross as he slides a hand behind your neck and tilts your head back, his face hovering over yours with dark ocean eyes dancing in delight.

“Was I? Let me kiss you too, then.”

Childe closes the distance, lips slotting over your pomegranate-stained ones. And kiss you, he does.

note ✧ ahhhh I'm so •///• this man makes me sooooo unwell. writing this vampire au is making me lose it!!!! btw please forgive the inconsistent fic layouts, I'm still trying to find something I'm happy with ahh.

a little bit of writing trivia: I wanted to focus a lot on sound in the opening, because that’s a sense that has changed for Childe since he became a vampire. there also isn't too explicit of a mention that he's envisioning you as a vampire but I hope that still came through. I also didn’t want to mention the word “blood” until he’s imagining you feeding off of his blood. hehe c:

reblogs and comments are much appreciated; i'd love to know your thoughts on this!

[politeparadox]

Hi! I’m not exactly sure how to go about this, but I’ve seen you’ve posted about him and I want to share my own sort of warning.

When I was 13 (turning 14), Ataru/ajax/nick, whatever he goes by, groomed me. It was in 2021, and I believe he was 16 turning 17 at the time. He peer pressured me into a relationship, and I was frankly really scared. He was also incredibly abusive to my friends and the people I consider family on the internet.

He constantly begged for money and attention, and my friends STILL have gifts they bought for him that they never got to send. I understand that he was mentally ill and still is, but his behavior shouldn’t be excused. He hurt me and my friends and I’m still suffering the issues to this day.

I just want to say that he has been an issue for a while- and I’m worried for the people he is friends with. He is insanely toxic and does not provide a good place for people to be safe and comfortable.

Y'ALL WE MAY HAVE FOUND OUT WHY HE'S SO OBSESSED WITH GROOMING ALLEGATIONS

[thepastelprophet]

If yall wanna stop being so cryptic about what Actual has ever done to Nick then you better start sharing what the fuck Actual seemingly did to Nick. No vague BS answers. Post it loud and proud if Actual is so terrible.

And no "AWAHHHHHHH WAHHHHH NICK TOLD ME NOT TOOOOOO". I do not care what Nick told you not to do. We want PROOF. And if you don't have it, that's fucking suspicious. So start fessing up.

[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?"

[m1d-45]

bloodletting

summary: a budding god needs a place to test their new powers, and childe was always a little too eager to lose a fight... a match made in heaven!

word count: 1.7k

-> warnings : minor AQ spoilers ? just like, general gi plot.. fairly graphic depiction of blood + other injuries (might be classed as body horror???). generally obsessive tendencies (childe <--> you). i cannot stress this enough, reader is 110% a sadist.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

power was not something that came easy. it was fought over, stolen, defended with teeth and claw, tides of blood shed just so one could have power over another. social, physical, financial; no matter the leverage it provided, power was hard won. to give someone power was to admit defeat, a certain death that tartaglia had learned and taught more than his fair share of times. nobody undeserving of power ever held onto it for long; it was an acknowledgement that you were better, that you deserved it, that you’d won. power was a fickle resource that childe would kill to keep, only ever laying down his blade for a precious few.

the tsaritsa, of course. his fellow harbingers, skilled both on and off-field, who themselves could rival the archons. his family, for whom he’d happily give the world.

and naturally, who would be more worthy to hold power than you?

you, not just a god but the, the highest authority across all of teyvat. you bore a hundred names and a thousand monikers, your worship the one thing the world could agree on. granted, nobody could quite agree on how, but that was fine. childe did not need external powers to tell him what to do. he knew, in his deepest heart, that he had gotten it right.

he knew—and, on occasion, flaunted—that he was your favorite. of all the vessels you had chosen, you returned to him time and time again, wishing on his stars until his vision gleamed. his bow shone with power, even his weakest weapon more than enough to push his strength to new heights. part of him wondered what he could do if you’d granted him swords, or a claymore… but that was speculation for another time. didn’t it say something that you had still chosen him at his weakest?

the thought always made him smile. thick in the heat of puppeteered battle, before the sun to after dark, your presence was a constant in his life. at every altar, with every offering, when his hands stung from the rash of leather and his blade was covered in rust, your name a prayer behind blood-soaked teeth. he could not remember a time when his pocket was not weighted with a charm.

his devotion was no secret. he wore your bow with pride, entirely phasing out his other weapons. it didn’t matter that he was technically more controlled with them, for you had chosen this path for him. your word was his guide, a polar star through bitter nights.

he did not doubt when your presence ebbed or flowed. who was he to dictate when or where you spent your attention? no, his faith did not waver. it had no reason to. he waited patiently, going about his regular duties, lingering in snezhnaya for no other reason that he just felt like he had to.

who was he to question to buzzing in the back of his head? who was he to decline when he felt an instinct to leave, to go for a trip far past the city gates? who was he to think himself better than the guiding light that had never led him astray?

for you, he was whatever you needed. and so he went, armed with a thick coat and snowboots, hands shoved deep in the pockets to hide the slight shake. down the main road, an arbitrary turn into an alley and down an abandoned path, into a part of the city he’d never traveled. but a golden thread had tied itself around his heart, pulling without hesitation. he easily hopped over the fence gate, not bothering with hauling it open through the snow. the path beyond was covered in a thick layer of powder, his foot crunching through a foot of it before hitting solid ground. still, he continued.

snezhnayan winters were not warm. they bit and dug into every gap in your clothes, stealing away the precious warmth within. and yet, with his half-done coat and incomplete guard, he was not cold. or, rather, he couldn’t feel it. his hands were pink with frost, stiff at the knuckles, but he couldn’t feel the resistance. his body was not important, not now.

the snow began to thin. it fell from his knees to his shins to his ankles to his toes, until he was face to face with a thick wall of bramble, impossibly overgrown. he was beginning to overheat in his jacket. twin blades made quick work of the wall, and the sight behind it easily dispelled any breath left in his lungs.

the air that washed out of the bubble was thick and heavy, like a humid spring instead of snezhnayan woods. his breath came in short gasps, a shameful wheeze that he hoped was missed beneath the howling snow. he didn’t want you to see him as weak, as someone so easily tired by a short trip to a falling star; he didn’t want you to think of him as anything other than his best.

but you didn’t push him away. you helped him up—his head was buzzing with delusion, he could hardly see, when had he fallen to his knees?—and brushed the snow off his hair, not pushing him away when he leaned into your touch. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could barely collect himself enough to recognize that he needed to get you inside, away from the wilds.

that was power. to so effortlessly take over every thought in his head, to hold his mind in your hands and pull it into your liking, that was the power he adored you for. gods were figureheads of power, a physical incarnation of their dominion. a god of the entire world would only naturally have power to manipulate that world to their liking. how blessed was he, that he could be the first you made yours.

he was with you when you first stepped into zapolyarny palace, looking around at the chandeliers and fine tile. he opened the door for you to her majesty’s throne room, sucking in a sharp breath as you brushed by. he was by your side when the tsaritsa swore you her fealty, delicately placing the gnoses in your hands.

and oh, how he’d fallen to the floor right then and there, dizzy from the wash of power that rolled off you in waves, an ocean that he willingly dove into. the floor was cool beneath his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin as sweat quickly began to bead. he didn’t bother pushing himself up on his hands, teeth sinking deep into his lip again to control his panting breath. copper bloomed over his tongue, filling his mouth and clogging what remained of his senses.

dimly, he was aware that he was being pathetic, that this would surely change your mind about him. he heard your voice, faint through the fog of his mind, your wisdom lost to his own inadequacy. and yet, despite his weakness, every part of him was tuned into you. he knew it was your hand whispering across his shoulders, he knew it was your influence that stole the breath from his lungs. he knew it was you, because it was always you. you were all he could think of, and now you were finally able to leverage your full power over his self.

he’d woken up in a hospital bed. saline dripped into his arm and the lights pierced his eyes, his head full of snow and iced over. and yet, the moment he was cleared for release, he found himself desperate to be back to your side, racing through the tiled halls of the palace and following the urgent burn in his chest. you would have been right to turn him away, to deem him too weak to stay by your side, but you didn’t. you smiled when he lost his breath and laughed when he wavered, brushing off his concern. you invited him with you—his lungs burned with the need for oxygen—as you twirled the gnoses between your fingers, as if they were toys or paperweights rather than objects of divine power.

divine to him. child’s play to you. a courtyard of snow was cleared in an instant, ripples of pyro melting permafrost while keeping the flora beneath intact, a lazy show of power that pulled little more than a slight hum from you in response.

he wasn’t so much a fool as to think he could teach you everything, or even something, about being divine. and yet he clung to your side like a sailor in a storm, watching as you grew familiar with the elements. he watched, stubborn and weak, as you stopped hesitating.

flowers bloomed as you walked by, crumbling to ash with the slightest look. electro jumped from your skin to his, a painful spark that drew his mind from his head, finally seeing your amused eyes instead of just mindlessly staring. you could—should—have just left him behind, but you didn’t. you instead asked for his help, taking his hand in yours and leading him to a quieter hallway of the palace. you didn’t comment on his thundering pulse despite the fact that you could certainly feel it, tracing a finger along the crease of his palm.

“i wonder…”

a claw of geo cut across his skin, a sharp sting that quickly welled with blood. he barely felt it, watching with detached awe as it filled up his hand, sliding over the edge and dripping to the floor. you didn’t show any emotion, just… watching. his heart beat in his hands, a pool collecting on the floor, and still, you just watched. your other hand moved over the surface, barely an inch away, the blood collecting in a bubble beneath it. with a hum, your fist tightened, pain lighting up his arm. a strained grunt slipped between his teeth, hand flinching closed, brushing against the ball of his blood you had pulled from his veins. his hand was stained red, shaking in your grasp, minutes stretched into hours.

all at once, it dropped, forced back into his body as forcefully as it was removed. with a snap, the skin stitched itself shut, and you were again dragging him along like a child did their favorite toy.

you did that a lot. pull him aside and experiment with whatever new reaction you had discovered that month, week, day, hour, watching his reactions with unabashed delight. and he let you. every time, without fail, he eagerly followed, knowing full well he’d end up rigid with lightning or with ice crystals studding his throat. it was worth it, though. you always fixed him up, squeezing his hand with a whispered ‘good job’ that never failed to make him dizzy.

it didn’t matter what you did to him. it never did. even when his mind was hazy with pain and he couldn’t quite stand on his own, he never regretted it. unconsciousness licked at the edges of his vision, burning black stains that lingered even after you stopped, but he never once hesitated.

if you asked him to jump, he’d ask how high. if you felt like holding him underwater, he’d cherish every bruise. to be kept as a toy was still to be kept.

[neuvilletteswife4ever]

Hii! Could I get a yandere harbingers with a darling who is on her period?(female or afab darling).

YANDERE FATUI HARBINGERS X READER WHO IS ON HER PERIOD

Warnings:

Mentions of experimentation, kidnapping, chain to ankle, non consent, extreme obsession.

"Leave me alone!!" You yelled at them, becoming more aggresive than usual. It was your hormones kicking up like always.

"Darling...why are you yelling at us." Childe switches from a loving obsessive voice to a low deep voice.

They all looked at you. Maybe you were acting different because you didn't want the chain on? Well, you'd have the chain on for the rest of your life so don't even think about it.

They tried giving you food, but nothing worked.

"Love, why are you acting like this?" Capitano asks with curiosity in his voice while holding your hand gently. Hmph, why is he acting so kind, as if he wasn't the one who killed your friends and family because he was "jealous" of them.

They also noticed you often went to the toilet. More than usual. They'd always follow you in the bathroom because of their fear of you escaping somehow (even if you had a chain at all times), but you did NOT let them follow you today. At first, they thought that you wanted to get away from them.

But then, Arlecchino's and Columbina's brain clicked.. You were on your period!!

"Oh no! My darling is in so much pain." Columbina says slowly as she turns much more gentle with you during your period.

As for Arlecchino, she kissed you at all times and comforted you when your cramps started acting up.

When the other Fatui Harbingers heard, they somehow got more obsessive and gentle.

Pantalone bought you gifts, chocolate, snacks, much more than you could ask for. They didn't want you to be in pain. Seeing you in pain was their worst nightmare, even the slightest headache.

Tartaglia cuddled with you, not letting you go away at any second.

Well, the upcoming night was quite interesting.

As usual, they forced you to sleep in their HUGE bed. They were cuddling with you every second. You were in the middle, and you didn't wanna wake them up.

As you tried to get up, they all woke up out of nowhere.

"Where are you going..." Dottore asks with a low voice. They all thought you were gonna try and escape.

You don't answer immedietaly because it was kind of embarassing to say it.

"I just need to go to the bathroom.."

And then it clicked in their brains. You needed to change your pad.

"Oh, of course love, do you want us to accompany you?" Signora asks lovingly, but a hint of huge amount of obsession underneath that voice.

You don't answer. You just go in.

You were in for a long long night.

(Now you may wonder, why didn't Dottore just experiment on you and take your period away? Well, that was because you swore to never talk to him again if he did. Not having his darling talk to him was his worst nightmare.)

[mystii-gur0]

Childe x Reader hcs. Except I'm honest.

You are not his top priority. He will drop everything to save you, but if it comes down to you or his family, or you or the Fatui, he will ALWAYS pick his family or the Fatui over you.

He is a yandere, just not for you. The Tsaritsa is his darling.

He feels guilty for being with you.

Lowkey if it's a modern au he calls you at horrific times in the night because he can't sleep and wants to make sure you don't hate him.

You CAN'T fix him

He doesn't like to be touched without warning

He won't tell you what's actually upsetting him, ever. Like if he's mad at you he'll be like "I'm pissed off" then refuse to elaborate further. Mostly because he doesn't want you to get upset with him for setting boundaries or smth.

he does always want to spar with you. Constantly. "Hey babe, wanna watch a movie" "no thanks, lets spar!"

He cannot make himself be attracted to you sexually if you are incapable of beating his ass

He's a dog boy but not in the cute way. In the Denji from csm way.

He gets jealous very easily, especially when you compliment or spend time with other people.

He does not let you touch the star shaped scars from Foul Legacy on his back.

His love language is acts of service and gift giving so he does like to spoil you a lot. He gives you the princess treatment.

If the Tsaritsa told him to break up with you, he would, no questions asked. He might be sad for a while, but he wouldn't like- fight his god to save your relationship. Your relationship he's not even supposed to have.

He's asexual. And is very disinterested in that kind of thing. He would if you really wanted to but he wouldn't initiate it. He'd rather spar.

He would never cheat on you. Ever. He would ghost you instead of breaking up though.

If you're stronger than him he stalks you lowkey.