eepyuii

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 14

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn

cw ; mentions of scars (edit: im a fucking idiot i forgot they talk abt scars at the start of the chapter) and like… brief dottore mention, so u know it’s icky. also u guys will be mad at me.

notes ; AHHH!!!!! I LIVE!!!!! oh gosh so many hectic life events lately….. i hadnt been able to get my hands on this dang chapter for so long

anyhow, i was planning to publish this one early like a day or two ago with a reference to an arlecchino voiceline that was THEN a leak and not out yet, so i’m glad i waited and developed this one just a little more LOL

also good luck with everyone’s arle pulls!!! (better luck than mine i hope ;w;) just like childe and the reader at some point, WANTERS WILL BE HAVERS ‼️

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“agh— be more gentle!”

“i’ll be more gentle if you stop flinching away. you’re a war machine who can turn into an abyssal beast, withstand how draining it is to use it, hold your ground against a champion duelist but you can’t handle a little cotton ball soaked in alcohol?”

“well there’s no adrenaline anymore to remedy this sting, now, is there?”

it’s almost comically reminiscent of your meeting with childe back in zapolyarny palace, where he got himself hurt just to come tell you that he was to leave for liyue— feels like it was ages ago. childe leans against the elegant marble counter of your hotel room’s bathroom, pile of bloodied cottons and tissues piling by his hands, while you clean the fresh wounds he’s just acquired from clorinde.

from how much he flinches and hisses, the wounds almost seem grave… but they’re no more than a few scratches, slashes and bruises. after his witty remark, you can only attribute his absurd resilience during battle to the mentioned adrenaline— otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as he has with those reactions of his.

“so did you get what you wanted from that spar? how was it in comparison to your other tries?”

childe pauses thoughtfully and proceeds to pout.

“…i think she was still holding back. i need another spar.”

“gh-! are you kidding?! childe tartaglia ajax, i am not letting you resplit the forehead i just fixed up anytime soon.”

he sighs melancholy like a grounded child, but nods in agreement anyhow. childe’s eyes remain downward, he mindlessly fiddles with the hem of your shirt as he awaits patiently for you to finish tending to his wounds. once you finish, you scan him up and down to certify that you’ve taken care of everything, until your gaze is caught by his scars.

his war medals.

he’s got an insurmountable amount of them scattered all over his body and not one is like the other— some are large lashes most likely caused by weapons like axes or claymores; some are finer lines caused by swords or daggers; a few of them even look like different types of burns, likely the work of varied elemental catalysts; and some look like small stars or circles, probably the result of arrows or the tips of polearms.

the inches of his skin that his scars don’t cover are littered with the tiniest specs of freckles… ones you’ve barely had the privilege to see over the years as a result of living in eternally cold lands. it’s only been since you’ve both been to warmer regions like liyue, inazuma and now fontaine that you’ve began to notice them.

and you’ve found that the intricate, graceful tapestry that childe’s scars and freckles weave is… gorgeous.

it’s so uniquely mesmerizing that you nearly struggle to find a worthy comparison within words or the world around you. the closest one would be to a starry sky— you imagine that his freckles become the stars that remain stationary and furthest away in the night sky, small and bountiful, while his scars are the shooting stars that flash by in a vivid explosion of light.

it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.

you’ve realized that you’re less afraid to admit this to yourself now. perhaps spending so much constant time with childe after such a while of misencounters and diverging schedules, has made you become more comfortable around him— to the point where you barely minded him childishly playing with the hem of your shirt. it feels fine, domestic even… almost in the same way that a coup—

“hey, why’re you staring so hard? am i not gonna make it, doc?”

you flinch as you’re snapped away from your train of thought, taking in how childe’s eyes flicker worriedly over your face. unfortunately, your mind isn’t freed from the grasp of your thoughts of… admiration and your gaze quickly flies over his scars once again. the delicacy of the moment, unexpectedly, fuels you with enough confidence to raise forward a hand that lightly grazes a particularly eye-catching gash on childe’s neck— the stretched healed skin ever so slightly bumping against your digits.

“nothing… j’st looking at your scars.” you answer absentmindedly.

beneath your hand, you feel his adam’s apple raise in a hearty gulp. next, childe inhales deeply and exhales a shuddered breath, as if an attempt to ground himself.

“what about ‘em?” he whispers expectantly.

“i like them.”

it’s as if you’ve gotten the liquid courage of a drink while being entirely sober, you’re surprised that you’ve done so much as let yourself say that out loud. though perhaps… that bewilderment might just be your downfall— within the thought, you notice just how close you and childe stand before each other. he leans against the bathroom counter in only the deep red undershirt of his uniform, eyes laser-guided onto your every move while you’re only a hair’s length away from him. his absurd height doesn’t help the moment either, as he’s forced to hunch over and his figure arches forward into you— it’s suffocating.

you can’t allow yourself to crumble and panic right now, it would absolutely destroy you for the rest of your life, so you opt to breathe deeply. childe watches intently as you do and returns it with his own deep sigh, one that you feel hit your face warmly the moment it leaves his lips and so it further capitalizes on just how obscenely close the two of you are— to the point where you breathe each other’s air.

childe’s piercing azure eyes move from matching your own to slightly further down on your face…

to your lips.

“yeah?” he mumbles in the most delicate tone possible, it’s not like you’re too far to hear anyway.

it’s an inexplicable magnetic pull that brings you the smidgenmost closer to him, it has to be so. it must be that same pull that brings you to look at his mouth— plump and pink, likely still store from the split at the corner of his bottom lip. and there’s no other possibility other than that damned magnet as to why your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, childe’s shyly snaking around your waist in response.

you don’t feel like you’re in a bathroom in a hotel room in fontaine anymore, you don’t feel like the seconds pass anymore. it’s a pocket between space and time that has enveloped the two of you, away from everything else.

and there’s nothing in this world left to do other than to lean just a breath closer to each other… just a little more and—

knock knock knock knock!

you flinch away faster than lightning, heart thudding ironically like thunder. childe also seems to have been entirely spooked by the knocks on the bedroom door and he pretends to bring his hand up to scratch something on his face, but you know very well he means to hide his glaringly flushed face— you know that because you do the very same, only you briskly step away to open the door instead.

outside the room, two fontainian officers greet you, though they seemingly go wide eyed for just a brief second as if you’re not who they expect to answer.

“forgive me, friend, this is… mr. tartaglia’s room, is it not?” one inquires.

you frown in suspicion, and you plan to not directly confirm the question as to pry exactly what business two policemen would have with childe. unfortunately, the devil decides to announce it himself by coming up behind you, arms crossed defensively.

“and what might be the problem, officer?” childe asks pointedly.

both officers simultaneously eye the two of you, the blushing idiots opening the door together, and proceed to share a knowing look. the first officer sighs while the second clears his throat awkwardly.

“we apologize for… intruding so abruptly but— mr. tartaglia, you are currently being suspected of being the culprit behind the serial disappearances of young women case. for the time being, you are under arrest and must face trial at the opera epiclese to make your case.”

…what.

“what?”

coincidentally, both you and childe exclaim at the same time— though, childe’s tone is rather condescendingly skeptical while yours is laced with pure, unadulterated shock.

the harbinger scoffs. “well, i can very confidently tell you right now that i didn’t do it.”

yeah, great way to clear any and all suspicion, man.

frustratedly pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to help you process the last five seconds, you sigh.

“i-i think what he means to say, officer, is that it’s not plausible for him to even be a suspect in this case. i mean— if i remember correctly, doesn’t that case extend for over twenty years? we’ve only been in fontaine for a few weeks! you can check our travel tickets, they’re dated. plus, we haven’t done anything even remotely disruptive while we’ve been here, both of us have multiple reliable alibi’s regarding our whereabouts over the past few days, and—“

the officer puts up a dismissive hand, effectively interrupting you. “please, leave this for the iudex to hear.”

a metallic jingling catches your attention and you see that the second policeman wordlessly produces handcuffs from his tool belt, the panic bubbles in your throat even further. childe’s shoulders visibly tense and it’s clear that he’s intent on fighting back— with once again lighting fast reflexes, you put a hand on his shoulder and throw him a warning look as a means to discreetly impede him. childe sighs frustratedly but ceases anyhow, allowing himself to be guided out of the room. out of pure illogical desperation, you chase after.

“don’t say anything hostile or stupid until we find you a lawyer! i promise you i’ll be right behind!” you call out as the three are at the other end of the hallway and catch a final look from childe, the emotion behind it is indescribable.

your chest feels overwhelmingly tight.

—

who knew such a resplendent room could be so suffocating.

it feels as though you’ve been waiting for an eternity and the intended comfort of the opera eplicese’s waiting room only serves to unnerve you more. the most important person in your life has just been abruptly accused of being a serial kidnapper and you’re supposed to indulge in sickeningly sweet pastries and tasteless tea? it’s almost derogatory.

your leg has become sore from how much it bounces restlessly, your nail plates scratchy from how much you fidget with them, all the paper napkins on the table sloppily folded into failed paper stars. none of it helps.

you can’t even decide what to worry about, all of it swirls and spirals in your head like a rumbling tornado. is he okay? are the officers treating him well? who will defend him? will he go to prison? for how long? when in the tsaritsa’s name will arlecchino retur—

the door slams open and you jump, partially with the abruptness of it and out of sheer panic to get some news on the situation. your heart starts palpitating again and it takes everything within your willpower to seem more put together in front of the knave.

“s-so?” you ask with an uncontrollable shake in voice.

“it’s invariable, childe must face trial and defend himself. we can only count on the factuality that he is innocent and the oratrice will say accordingly.”

you sigh, at least… whatever in the archons’ name constitutes that machine is infallible.

“the trial starts in five minutes.” arlecchino adds curtly.

you nod and allow yourself to take a deep, grounding breathe before standing up to leave the waiting room. as your hand reaches out to the doorknob, there is a firm grip on your shoulder. you turn ever so slightly to find a pointy-nailed, stark black hand holding you back— another moment to analyze the hand reveals to you that… that’s her skin. black.

a chill runs down your spine.

“allow me, for a moment, to ask a selfish question in exchange for a selfish answer, sargeant.” she stands, voice dark and menacing. “as an asset of the doctor’s… do you share his ideals?”

the question takes you off-guard but it also… doesn’t. you’re not an idiot— you’ve heard of dottore’s letters to the house of the hearth suggesting the, err.. ‘rejects’ be sent to his custody so he can further his experiments. you remember how utterly appalled you were when you first came across the information. if the knave truly cares about the children in her orphanage, it’s no wonder how tightly she grips your shoulder, sharp nails just a breath away from breaking skin.

and so she asks you selfishly, a question not of loyalty but of morality.

dottore’s face flashes before your eyes and your hand subconsciously tightens into a fist, expression hardening.

“if his life were in my hands, i’d crush it in a heartbeat.” you whisper bitterly.

the grip releases you and it’s as if air is easier to breathe after that. arlecchino wordlessly steps ahead to open the door for you and gestures for you to leave first, expression neutral as if nothing had happened.

the courtroom looks like no courtroom at all, rather you feel as though you’re about to watch an opera in a grand theater— the rumors about fontaine seem to be true after all. in the rows of cushy seats, people whisper and gossip endlessly until you find yourself a seat and the booming sound of a gavel being struck echoes through the court, all sound ceases.

“court is now in session for the case of serial disappearances of young women, today we will hear both the prosecution and defense’s arguments regarding mr. tartaglia of the fatui’s alleged involvement.”

a baritone voice echoes through the silent courtroom, the direction it rings out from reveals a white-haired man in proper blue robes, sitting in a balcony that floats above the courtroom’s stage. you recognize him as the iudex, the chief justice, monsieur neuvillette. his tone is elegant and intellectual, with complete considerate professionalism—- its cadence almost reminds you of zhongli in a sense. but that’s not all that reminds you of zhongli… you can’t quite put your finger on it though.

what follows is merely formal introductions from the prosecution and the defense and you take the opportunity to become distracted and ponder over just how catastrophic your morning had turned out. it all happened so quickly too— one second you were… ah… canoodling with childe and the next he was being escorted out the room by law enforcement. had you been cursed by the gods? would they be so cruel as to make every peaceful moment in your life just merely bedding for the next major inconvenience? would they be so frustratingly taunting as to let you get that close to the one you have feelings for only to rip you two away from each other right afterwards?

“it would appear i must repeat my question, mr. tartaglia.” neuvillette says firmly, catch your attention and breaking you from your daze.

“do you accept the charge that you are the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case?”

“to be perfectly honest, i don’t understand your country’s complicated court systems, or the reason why i’m being charged with something i’ve never even heard of.” the harbinger answers bluntly.

“however, i did hear that people who have been charged can choose to participate in a duel to clear their name— is that right? in that case, as long as i accept the charge, i can have an all out fight with that champion duelist clorinde, right?”

…

how can the supposed love of your life be this stupid?

“when i privately sparred with her last time, she was obviously holding back… real disappointing.”

“hey, don’t you understand? you’re currently the prime suspect for a major case! this isn’t the place for you to be looking for fights.” a female voice calls out from the balcony directly above where you seat— while you can’t see who it is, you can only assume from the bossiness of her tone that it’s lady furina herself, the hydro archon.

“oh? sounds like the hydro archon wants to lecture me on the ways of the opera house…” childe taunts. “then why don’t you duel me too? i’m the kind of students that learns best in the heat of battle.”

you’ll kill him, oh you’ll kill this idiot one day… does he want to rot in prison for the rest of his days? this time you truly cannot hold yourself back from subconsciously standing up in panic, limbs urging to get up there and try to amend the situation yourself by arguing like a normal, sane person— but the judging stares of the other spectators hinder you glued to your seat out of sheer embarrassment.

“alas, it would appear that communication with the defendant is going poorly, and we have made very little progress.” neuvillette intervenes. “in that case, let me explain everything from the very beginning again. the goal of this trial is to determine the culprit behind the serial disappearances case—“

“that case had nothing to do with him! you’ve got the wrong man!”

huh? …who said that? did that not come out of your own mouth? seems like something you’d blur out… instead it comes from a flamboyantly dressed blonde woman who bursts into the courtroom at that very second. to you, she nearly seemed angelic in the moment.

“miss navia, this is the second time you’ve interrupted the court proceedings. i only tolerated your behavior last time because you were able to provide the court with a key eyewitness. but that was exception rather than standard court protocol— i can very well charge you with contempt of court for your interjections.”

“oh please, did you ever think i had any respect for this place’s pointless theatrics?” navia scoffs.

“we can put aside that discussion for now, i’m not here to argue with you. i’m here to charge the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case. and if my charges prove true, the tartaglia here will be proven innocent by default, correct?”

neuvillette proceeds to dismiss childe from the stand to make way for navia and allows him to seat in the audience and you feel like you should owe this lady your life. childe’s eyes scan through the seats and when he spots you, he visibly lights up and beelines to the seat next to yours.

“challenging the hydro archon? really?” you whisper playfully.

childe contains himself not to laugh loudly. “can’t say it wasn’t worth the shot.”

it’s as if a wordless conversation settles between the two of you, silent glances and deep sighs that express the mutual hopefulness for a good outcome of this trial. after a solid few seconds of staring at each other like fools, childe’s gaze drops down, you follow it to see his gloved palm sat in the armrest between the two of you— it faces outward in an invitation. your hand joins his without thought and the second your skin registers the warmth that radiates from his hold, it’s like an electric shock runs through your veins. one so buzzing that makes you two simultaneously face away from each other to hide your burning cheeks.

you’d like to pretend that you’re paying attention to the trial, but the ever so gentle squeezes childe hand gives yours periodically seem to take up all of your focus and cause it to short circuit. suddenly, there’s another burst of the courtroom’s doors and there stand the traveler and paimon, because of course they’re somehow also involved in this.

“naviaaa, we’re back!” paimon calls out.

“as expected of my partner! i just knew you’d come back in the nick of time!”

“just how often do you intend to flout the rules of this court…” neuvillette mutters disappointedly.

the traveler’s appearance contributes new evidence towards navia’s favor, who expertly disperses all of the oppositions statements. the culprit is revealed to be a man by the name of vacher, who was intent on bringing back his dear vigneire to the point where he began dissolving innocent young women with primordial seawater. as overtly ridiculous as fontaine’s spectacle culture seemed to be, you couldn’t say that watching this trial play out wasn’t extremely entertaining.

but speaking of innocent…

“at this point, the verdict of this trial is clear. with mr. marcel’s conviction, the charges against mr. tartaglia no longer hold any basis.”

you giddily look over at childe, who seems as aloof as someone who didn’t worry for a second. your fingertips tingle with excitement and you can feel the stress evaporate off your shoulders in real time. neuvillette summarizes the entire case once more and submits the verdict to the oratrice— the machine hums loudly and flashes a blinding blue, producing an envelope finally confirming his guilty status. much to unspoken disappointment, childe lets go of your hand to stand with his chest proudly puffed up.

“well now, hasn’t this been the most delicious piece of drama? the villain has been caught, justice has been served, pas wrongs have been righted and it’s a bit ol happy ending… since it’s been such a great show, i’ll just let the false accusations against me slide. either way, i’ve still got some business to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me—“

the harbinger looks back to offer you his hand once more and you happily take it before childe begins to lead you two out of the room. unfortunately, the guards at the doors of the courtroom remain unmoving as they block the doors and you frown in confusion.

“please wait just one moment, mr. tartaglia.” says the iudex.

“oh, what now? none of this has anything to do with me.” childe groans.

“according to court protocol, since this trial was initiated due to a charge against you, a verdict must also be made regarding the initial charge before the trial can conclude.”

you sigh out of selfish frustration, but opt to respect the proceedings anyhow— it’s not like the verdict will change now. childe, on the other hand, voices his annoyance like a petulant kid.

“please respect the laws of fontaine. this has always been the rule.”

“it’s fine, we’ll just have to wait here a few little seconds more.” you whisper to childe coaxingly.

he sighs. “alright alright, but this has been a lot of hassle. all i need is to stand over there, right? let’s just get this over with…”

“through evidence presented in the public trial that was just held, it has been established that mr. tartaglia has no direct connection to the serial disappearances case. the guilty party has been established and thus, it is logical to suppose mr. tartaglia is innocent of the charges.”

the machine whirrs once more, stirring some curiosity within you as to what exactly makes it tick or give accurate verdicts at all. as the envelope reaches the chief justice’s hands, he seems to stutter for a moment as he reads it. neuvillette’s ever so stoic face falls slightly into a vexed frown and he hums in confusion.

“according to the judgment of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, mr. tartaglia is— guilty.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

#genshin impact fic #childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe fic #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia genshin impact #tartaglia x reader

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 13

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn

cw ; none

notes ; april fools prank where i actually post a new chapter!!! (i actually just speedran finishing this one bc i couldn’t sleep. it’s 2:30 am :3)

anyway, more of these pining idiots (france edition)

previous | next | masterlist

“…fontaine?”

at this point, you’ve forgotten why you were even crying. your heart is still hammering in your ears from childe’s words towards you— recalling his exact wording almost makes you want to sob again, but your head is already thrumming with ache too much for that. childe explains further his reasons for wanting to go to fontaine but you can’t bring yourself to focus, still replaying what happened previously in your mind.

“i’ve been having these strange dreams and mood swings… i think they’re related to the abyss.”

now that gets your attention. the mere mention of the abyss seems to create a flash of everything in your mind, from the day he disappeared to the day he came back, to when you saw foul legacy for the first time, to when he told you about the abyss— it hits you so abruptly that you physically flinch.

“w-wait what..? why?” you ask meekly, pit forming in your stomach at what this could possibly entail.

“well… you remember the sword master i told you about, right? the one that taught me all i know— skirk was her name. at one point while i was learning under her, i asked her why she took me in at all.. and her answer was extremely cryptic. she something along the lines of ‘because i awakened it’ and that i was ‘connected’ to it.”

“…’it’?”

“hah, she never told me what it was, that enigmatic lady.” childe tries to laugh it off and lighten the sober mood, but you can still gauge that it’s really a vexing matter to him.

“but i’ve got a hunch— i think it’s a whale.”

the vivid image of his whale attack blinds you momentarily, like you can still feel the chilling breeze of its waving water anatomy as it launched upward and slammed down on the floors of the golden house. no wonder childe used it while in his foul legacy form.

“a whale… is that why it’s one of your moves?”

“perhaps, that was never my intention though. my hunch isn’t due to that attack specifically either— it’s more about what i see in my dreams. within them, i find myself in the deepest depths of the sea, not a trace of anything except seawater, and then… there it is, a colossally big whale.”

“and- and the mood swings, how do you feel?”

“i don’t know— lately there’s just these moments where my mood completely flips around and i just feel… bad, like there’s something pulling at my throat. and then the next second it goes away.”

almost as if childe’s own description affects you, as a pit forms in your stomach and a clawed grip pulls at the back of your throat. besides the glaring bad news of anything abyss related, you have a feeling that… something might genuinely go wrong. like this is a bad idea.

“a-and you’re sure you want to go to fontaine to investigate that?”

“yep, positive.”

all of this feels entirely off and you’re not willing to take any chances anymore. you’re not losing this idiot to the abyss again, even if it means jumping down there to pull him back up yourself.

“then i’ll come with you.”

the way childe’s face entirely lights up at that makes it seem as though it’s all he’s ever wanted to hear in his life. for a moment you even think you spot a reflection of the inazuman street lamps in his irises, making him seem utterly starry-eyed. as he’s about to exclaim something about how glad he is, he pauses pensively for a moment and hesitates.

“wait— we’d have to go through sumeru again… are you sure you’re okay with that?”

you nod with full certainty. “i’ll be okay, because this time i’ll be with you.”

the two of you simultaneously turn away from each other discreetly the rest of the way to the hotel, as both try to suppress the grins that creep onto your faces and the heat that rises to your cheeks.

—

the trip to fontaine is arduous and tiring.

by the time you’re on land again, you and childe bee-line for your new hotel. after a long night’s sleep, you finally get to take in the breathtaking architecture, the unimaginable technological advancements and the extravagant lifestyles of the hydro nation. it’s almost overwhelming how much there is to see. childe, simultaneously, furthers his investigation in how to battle the champion duelists— spars with some of them even. and the more he does, the more you’re confident he’s signing up to get his ass kicked if he’s looking to go for tougher champions.

today, you’re whiskered away and into a fancy café in an impromptu invitation by the knave before you can even think of choosing where to go next. once lead into a private conversation room in the café, you’re met by the sight of the knave herself and… three teenagers? childe doesn’t seem to be as taken aback by their presence as you are, perhaps he’s known of them prior to the meeting— either way he doesn’t even spare the three a glance, being far too busy trying to contain the tension in his posture upon seeing arlecchino.

you don’t blame him for that either, as the fourth harbinger is someone you’ve only heard poorly of. she was never much present in zapolyarny palace, in fact you can only recall hearing of her staying in snezhnaya at all for the fair lady’s funeral. other than that, it’s only snarls and shuddered comments from childe saying that he does not like her entirely.

alas, all conflict represents a failure in diplomacy. and she doesn’t seem like someone fun to fight.

“childe… and— sargeant y/n, is it? be very welcome to fontaine, i’m glad to see you’ve accepted my invitation for this chat. be assured this meeting is solely meant for cordial conversation, so, please, relax.”

the knave gestures for you both to sit on the loveseat facing hers— assorted sweets, steaming tea atop a table between them and a collected smile on her face. her eyes seem to hold more than just… cordiality in them, in fact her gaze has a predatory hint to it. you feel so utterly scrutinized under her stare that you almost forget the three teenagers still standing at a corner of the room.

“as you might’ve noticed, i’ve brought three of my children from the house of the hearth— lyney, lynette and freminet. i’ve brought them here in the spirit of… first contact, they’ve never met one of my fellow harbingers before.”

oh that’s right, the house of the hearth. for a moment you feel bad for those three kids, having to stand nearly unregarded at the corner like actual children at an awkward family gathering, merely because the orphanage that took them in happened to be associated with the fatui. you wonder if they’re well treated in the house— rather you hope they are, being under the wing of someone you’ve only heard be described as psychopathic.

arlecchino and childe engage in small talk, she asks about his recent comings and goings, family, work and such while he responds with cautious answers. you can tell childe is as on guard as he can be, before someone who is unpredictable even to him. meanwhile you only stare boredly into your teacup, tracing its intricate painted patterns with your fingers.

your eyes trail over to the three kids almost involuntarily and you see that they haven’t moved an inch since you’ve arrived, merely watching carefully with unreadable expressions. well, at least the tallest one of them does, you think you’ve seen his face in flamboyantly decorated posters around the city, perhaps for a spectacle in true fontainian fashion. same goes for the girl, who seems to be a cat hybrid, bears an even more unamused expression than yourself and she seems to be much more entertained in watching her own tail sway back and forth lazily. finally, the other boy is crouched down over a rounded device as he tinkers with it with a screwdriver in his hand, you can’t discern exactly what it is though.

finally, you notice that besides what you, childe and arlecchino have nibbled on, the rest of the food on the coffee table remains untouched. you don’t know what it is, but a small voice in your head tells you to walk over to them.

a few silent steps, unacknowledged by the two still chatting, and you’re standing in front of the three teens. their shoulders immediately tense at your looming stature and it’s then that you’re reminded that you’re fatui— much more fatui than any of these orphans will ever be.

“hey, uh, aren’t you guys hungry?” you whisper awkwardly.

the taller boy seems to be taken aback by the question and his previously guarded expression melts into relieved amusement.

“ah— don’t worry about us, sargeant, we’ve eaten.” he chuckles politely.

you nod, feeling a tinge of embarrassment creep at your fingertips at how simple and foolish your question seemed. your eyes scatter as you search for something else to bring up in conversation.

“o-oh um… this may seem silly to ask but— are you two part of any show? i think i’ve seen these posters on the streets with two people a lot like you.”

“why yes, i am known as the great magician lyney and my sister lynette is my assistant.” lyney presents proudly, giving you a humorous bow— a complete 180 of his demeanor before, while lynette remains stoic and merely nods to you.

you’re intrigued by the reveal. you’ve seen street ‘magicians’ both in snezhnaya and liyue, mere entertainers fooling the naked eye for petty change, but to be titled a great magician in a nation as grandiose as fontaine, it must say something about lyney.

“magician, huh? i’ll be sure to catch one of your shows sometime.” you grin.

the other boy, who through your supernatural investigative skills you determine is named freminet, remains unbothered and undistracted from his activity. you quietly crouch down to his level and watch with intrigue as he works on his device, either unaware of your presence or uncaring of it.

“hi,�� you whisper in a gentle tone, grabbing the boy’s attention as he raises his head to show so, even if he doesn’t fully face you. “freminet, right? can i ask what is it that you’re working on?”

“a-ah uhm… i-it’s nothing too intricate, just fixing up my diving helmet.” freminet fidgets with the edge of his helmet— still not once making eye contact with you, rather his eyes scatter back and forth toward the ground, much in the same way you were before.

“woah, a diving helmet? i would’ve never been able to guess that’s what it was. it’s so cool looking… can you see well in it?” you gasp with wonder.

as soon as you ask, it’s once again as if the teen’s entire mood shifts, his posture becomes more relaxed and his eye light up as they finally meet your own. freminet visibly attempts to hold himself back from getting too excited.

“yes! i-i can’t see very well with the visor but… it’s the best i can get for a helmet meant to sustain such high levels of water pressure!”

“oh sweet— i’ve heard that fontaine’s waters have so much to explore… how deep can you go with it?”

“i’d say about thirty five meters. the maximum safe depth for humans is sixty, though.”

“that’s already so far! what do you usually encou-“

“y/n? we should get going.”

childe calls out faintly as he stands by the door, fond smile on his face. you say goodbye to the three, who return it parting smiles, even lynette flashes you the most microscopic grin though you didn’t directly speak to her. scurrying to formally say goodbye to arlecchino, you join childe outside the café. in such a hurry, you don’t even catch the intrigued stare of the knave towards you.

as the two of you return to touring the streets of the city, you notice childe chuckle and grin to himself as he looks away aimlessly, any of his attempts to hide it fail completely.

“what’s gotten you so giggly?” you ask amusedly.

childe has always reddened easily, perhaps it’s a trait of his redheadedness or a trait of his shy nature as a kid— just like then, his ears immediately give away his embarrassment and he can’t hope to evade explanation.

“ah well, it’s just…” he trails off, hand coming up to scratch his nape sheepishly. “i find rather amusing how good you are with kids.”

the answer surprises you and your step halts momentarily.

“w-what do you mean?”

“oh c’mon, y/n… look at how you were talking to those kids. they were so hostile and serious before and then when i looked again, there you were chatting with them and making them feel comfortable. i was surprised anyone could even be that comfortable in a room with that lunatic…” childe grimaces briefly.

“and it’s not the first time this happens. my siblings all adore you, especially teucer and tonia. she always asks about you in our letters.”

as if karmic, heat rises to your own cheeks— you’d say it’s due to the vulnerability that childe brings out with his words, but the back of your head focuses the mere fact that childe paid attention to that at all to the point where he’d smile at the thought and summons pesky butterflies to your stomach.

you’ve found that lately, most times you think about childe those butterflies are there again. you’re not an idiot, you’ve read fairy tale books, but now was the least appropriate time to indulge any further— your best friend has heard callings from the abyss again and it’s affected his well-being, get your head in the fucking game, y/n.

“s-sure but you know that’s not always been the case! don’t you remember when tonia was born? she always cried whenever i was around…” you retaliate in an attempt to dismiss your embarrassment.

childe opens his mouth to reply but his attention is caught by something else. following his gaze you spot a gathering of people and it seems to be rather more confrontational than merely social. looking further, you recognize one of the men as a representative of conferie of cabriere, a shady organization with even unclearer relations to the northland bank branch of fontaine city. while you haven’t bothered to visit the branch, childe has passingly spoken of his findings there about said organization.

you also spot an all too familiar head of blonde hair— the traveler and paimon. before you can ask anything, childe steps briskly ahead, though he does not disturb the conversation just yet and watches from the sideline.

“…that you won’t go running off by the end of this month? i want fifty percent. today. no— seventy percent.” you hear part of what the man says.

“huh?! you…” the woman in front of him exclaims incredulously.

“hey, hold on! before you go trying to collect payments, why don’t you settle your own debts first?” intervenes childe in a taunting tone.

“if confrerie of cabriere wants to poach clients from northland bank, that’s fine, but i’m afraid you still owe the bank a hefty sum of mora. so why don’t we work things out between us first before you get back to your little conversation here?”

the man visibly cowers slightly, chuckling nervously.

“ah, you’re from northland bank? but we said we’ll pay you everything we owe next month. why are you hounding me now?”

in the midst of that, paimon waves from where she and the traveler stand and it catches childe’s attention. he immediately saunters over to them with delighted surprise in his face, as if completely brushing his prior interaction off, and you take that as your que to join him.

“oh, traveler! paimon! didn’t think i’d run into you here in fontaine. what are the chances?”

“we’re surprised to see you too! what are you doing here in fontaine? didn’t want to stay in snezhnaya?”

this time you answer. “ah, we were actually in inazuma before this for a little… leisurely trip.”

at that, the traveler eyes you suspiciously and it’s very clear that both of you catch onto her meaning, as childe chuckles nervously and you fidget with your fingertips. as discreetly as you can, you shake your head at the traveler, who drops her glare with slight disappointment.

“haha! yeah, long story short, we’ve been in fontaine for some time now. and honestly— things here have been pretty mundane. but it seems that fate has brought our paths together today!”

childe throws you a delighted look as his chest puffs up proudly. his demeanor has completely changed from its mellower nature from before, like spotting a conflict to participate in has lightened his mood exponentially— painfully in-character for him. he shows to be as excited as a little kid on their birthday, in such a manner that it almost takes away the weight of the fact that he’s excited to beat the shit out of someone. you won’t anote that verbally though, you know very well he’s been craving a fight ever since you landed in fontainian grounds.

“not only will i have more good friends here now, but ones who always seem to find trouble. either way you look at it, it seems things are going to get a lot more interesting now.”

dear tsaritsa, you know him so well.

paimon chuckles nervously. “pretty sure we’d want to avoid anything you’d find interesting… besides, our trip here has gone pretty well so far, right traveler?”

the traveler shrugs. “i don’t mind a little excitement every once in a while.”

you almost reprimand her for encouraging childe’s tendencies, but instead the sound of someone clearing their throat is heard behind you.

“ahem, uh… hey you, northland bank boy. aren’t ya forgettin’ somethin’?”

“don’t interrupt— it’s not often we’re all reunited like this. why don’t you wait for me over there for a while?”

“hah, you kiddin’?! aren’t ya the one lookin’ for us? you really expect us to sit and twiddle our thumbs while you catch up with your friends?! listen to me, boy. if you want your mora, fine— why don’t you come and take it?”

oh well. rest in peace whoever this asshole was.

“hey! i said not to interrupt. oh! by the way, traveler, y/n i forgot to tell you this one too… the last time i took tonia and teucer ice fishing, teucer said—“

“HEY! that’s way over the line! alright boys, let’s see who has to pay up now!”

“ugh, can you at least let me finish one sentence? fine, though the bank told me not to get rough with our clients…”

you’re not exactly worried about the outcome of this fight, so you just continue the topic childe was interrupted from.

“you still take them ice fishing?” you ask him fondly, warm smile on your face.

childe is rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as prep, but he still turns his head to throw you a playful wink. “‘course i do. i’ll tell you all about it after i take care of these guys.”

“alright, want me to hold your earring?” you ask teasingly.

“hah hah..” childe feigns a laugh, rather very obviously fake than convincing.

you may fake it all you want in front of other people, but there was no point in lying to yourself and saying you didn’t feel your heart stutter at that wink, it makes you like a silly teenager. the traveler and paimon almost instinctively expect you to try and hold childe back from getting himself into trouble— but when you don’t move an inch to stop him, perhaps too distracted thinking about how heavily your heart strums against your chest, they both give you a judgemental glare.

“what happened to your common sense?” paimon deadpans and you can’t bring yourself to respond.

as expected, childe single-handedly takes down the confrerie’s gaggle of goons without even breaking a sweat. soon enough, only the leader remains standing, already panting heavily and stumbling on his steps.

“what’s your deal brat..? how are you so strong if you’re just a staffer from snezhnaya’s northland bank?! …wait, don’t tell me you’re a—“

“ohoh, now you notice— s’ a little late, don’t you think? just make sure you understand that you don’t mess with northland bank, got it?”

to finish off, childe summons his dual elemental blades… or rather he tries to.

the water swirls into the silhouette of the blades, but when it means to solidify in shape— the water vanishes. you frown in bewilderment almost immediately, did he just change his mind? no, you look towards childe’s expression and see that he’s just as taken aback as you, looking down to the hydro vision at his waist that sits inactive. his opponent takes the distraction as an opportunity to strike, but much to his dismay it takes childe only a punch to knock him out instead.

seeing that all of the men have been taken down definitively, you rush over to childe’s side— you instinctively give him a once over to check for injuries or anything off. the traveler and paimon join you soon after.

“huh, that was weird…” he mutters.

“yeah… safe to say that wasn’t intentional. you okay?”

“what happened?” adds the traveler.

“i’m not… sure. it’s as if i lost control of my hydro powers when i needed them. maybe there’s something wrong with my vision?”

“strange. how could that happen? first time paimon’s ever heard of someone losing control of their vision.”

childe shakes his head dismissively and sighs. “nevermind, it doesn’t matter. if i wanna stay sharp, i shouldn’t be relying too much on my vision anyway. besides, i always have my delusion in case i need it.”

you throw him a glare. “hey, we know better than anyone that a delusion isn’t the remedy for a vision.”

“so what’re you guys actually doing in fontaine? and don’t say it’s work for northland bank…” paimon asks, in hope of changing the subject.

“well… i guess it’s because i’ve been having these bad moods lately.”

“huh? what kinda reason is that? wait, since when do you feel down about anything?”

“haha… i dunno, maybe i still have a lot to learn about myself. but recently, there seems to be some sort of restless power stirring inside of me— and i don’t know why but every now and then, i feel like i’m a in terrible mood.”

at a realization, that familiar anxious feeling returns to your chest, claws at it. it was only just recently that you felt free from it, yet your mind replays the moment where childe’s vision failed him against your will and causes that old weight on shoulders to return.

“what if… that’s why your vision did that? because of ‘it’?” you suggest meekly and childe nods thoughtfully in consideration of the possibility.

“‘it?’” paimon questions.

childe explains his story with the abyss and his swordmaster, almost verbatim to the way he told you. perhaps partially due to deja vu, you can’t bring yourself to listen intently— your mind is far too addled with fleeting and overwhelming whispers of what could happen to childe after this new development. you instinctively start to fidget with your fingers anxiously, as your eyes stare off into nothing while you’re deep in thought. your time for relaxation was dismantled so fast… like the worried thoughts were stalking you from a distance like patient predators— waiting to pounce and overtake all of your neural functions.

there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

coming to, you realize that the traveler and paimon are no longer standing in front of you and your eyes scatter to find them already taking off into the streets, waving goodbye absentmindedly. secondly, you turn to see childe looking down at you with a somber air in his eyes.

“y/n? seems like you spaced out a bit there… you alright?”

you scoff, though the scoff feels more demeaning at yourself than childe. “your powers are malfunctioning and you’re worried about me?”

he laughs. “yeah well… guess i picked that up from someone. listen— it’s fine, maybe it was just a random hiccup, we don’t know anything yet. i was going to tell you that i’ve got to go keep my appointment with the champion duelist but… speaking of my vision, here.”

a palm opens up in front of you, sapphire-esk gem neatly sitting on it.

“…you’re giving me your vision? why?” you frown.

“heh, i know i just said it could’ve been a hiccup but… it’s still not reliable, i’d hate for it to get in the way of my duel.”

as if childe senses your wholehearted reluctancy, he holds up both of your hands, puts his vision in them and closes them beneath his own.

“besides, there’s nobody in this world i’d trust more to keep it safe for me.”

he holds both of your hands there for a moment, a moment in which you realize how warm his hands are and how cold yours are. it’d be easy to say it’s due to his gloves— but he’s always been like this. you still recall how ajax would complain about your ‘subzero temperature hands’ whenever you tried to tickle him. and the irony is even funnier, for you to have received a vision that summons powers of ice and for childe to have received a vision with control over the waters… essentially the warmer version of your powers. perhaps it’s a coincidence, or perhaps a silly little play put on by the gods.

with all the time you’ve had to ponder over all of this, you realize that the two of you are still holding hands— not a falter or pull from either of you. as you’d been looking down aimlessly once again, when you look up to face childe, your gaze is already met by his. like he’d been looking at you the entire time.

at that, your arms start to tremble, seemingly causing childe to realize the reality of the situation himself. he brings a gloved hand up to cover his cheeks, pretending as if he’s scratching something on his face.

finally, he mumbles something about wishing him luck in his duel and takes off briskly.

his vision feels heavier in your hands now that his aren’t there to hold it with you.

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

#genshin impact fic #childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #childe fic #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia genshin impact #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia fic #childe genshin #childe tartaglia #childe genshin impact

[eepyuii]

I HATE FINDING TYPOS IN MY WRITING HNFFNFNHGGH I SOUND LIKE A FUCKING FOOL HHFHFHGNGH 💥💥💥

#genshin impact fic #BUT I ALSO GET TOO EXCITED TO PUBLISH THE CHAPTERS TO FUCKING BETA READ BEFORE AAAAAA

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 12

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; some self loathing talk, ending that you guys are gonna hate me for LMFAO

notes ; listen guys. i KNOW it’s been a minute, life’s just been really hectic lately- so many ups and downs and i couldn’t come up with what this chapter could be until i remembered- the inazuma trip!

and so that is what this is, the inazuma trip from childe’s POV and NOTHING ELSE happens. i promise :)

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if a mere gaze could incinerate, the letter before you would’ve been reduced to ashes by now.

it sits as pathetically unmoving as paper can get on the table before you— yet you can’t even bear to pick it up into your hands again, what a coward. it’s not even a bad letter either, very far from the bone-chilling mandates you receive from the doctor or directly from zapolyarny palace.

no, it’s an invitation. from ajax.

a simple invitation to a simple visit to inazuma to simply explore the scenery he had so passionately raved about to you before. your stay in sumeru had unintentionally prolonged itself, for reasons that if someone asked you out loud right now, you’d say you just ‘didn’t notice the days going by’. but any dimwit, if there is even such a thing inside sumeru city, would’ve been able to tell that you’re just cowering away from seeing ajax again.

since all of the matters had been resolved— crisis averted, dottore gone, kunikuzushi restored to his sharp-tongued self, you’d expected yourself to feel better. feel happier.

but you don’t.

because the guilt is still there, it still thrashes against your chest and scratches your throat dry, yelling out in a raucous, grating voice that you’re a terrible terrible person.

a terrible person who doesn’t deserve to go to inazuma. who doesn’t deserve to see ajax.

you still think of collei. you’ve been terrified to leave your quarters during the day, lest you bump into her on the streets of the city. you hope she’s feeling better, since all of eleazar was cured. gods, why do you even care this much? you’ve never even met the girl yet you’re desperate for her to forgive you, when you haven’t even done anything to her directly. you want to be worthy of her forgiveness so badly but.. you also think you’re not deserving of it, or any forgiveness at all. what is wrong with you?

“what is wrong with you?”

what.

“h-huh?”

you’re brought back to reality by kunikuzushi’s voice, who looms over the table you sit at, periodically moving his judgemental gaze towards the letter then back to you.

“the last ship for inazuma leaves in an hour, y’know. and you haven’t even started packing! you humans slack so much it baffles me how anything gets done ever.”

you fidget with your fingers, averting your gaze elsewhere as to avoid the very predictable death glare kunikuzushi is about to give at what you say next.

“i’m not going.”

thank the archons that his puppet body doesn’t have built-in eye lasers, or else you’d be barbecue by now.

“what do you mean you’re not going?”

“i changed my mind, i’m not going.” you shrug simply.

“as if,” he scoffs. “seeing that imbecile again is all you’ve talked about for days! i can still hear your stupid little melancholic sigh inside my head from how much you do so much as think about it.”

you remain silent, staring down at your own fingertips and fighting the urge to pick your nails.

“now suck up your idiocy for a second and answer me truthfully— why are you not going?”

it’s safe to say that one second you opened your mouth to answer and the next you were practically beaten into the ship, but not before you were almost deafened at kunikuzushi’s yells for you to pack up faster. you don’t think you’ve ever witnessed someone be so ragingly doting, though you believe he was partially motivated by how irkingly sulky you’ve been lately.

at least you can rest knowing nahida won’t let him rest.

—

“i’m sure they’ll arrive today, tartaglia!”

he’s sure yoimiya is right, yet his leg keeps bouncing impatiently. surely you’d accept his invitation, or at least show sign of life by sending a rejection letter— he could live with the sting of it as long as you were alive and safe in sumeru.

…no, that might not be enough. maybe his letter never arrived to you, maybe he put in the wrong address, maybe the letter did arrive but you weren’t there to receive it because you were unsafe. maybe he should just go to sumeru himself and check in on you. childe’s leg starts bouncing faster. he hates it, this giddy feeling but in a bad way. it’s not the kind of giddy he feels when he’s about to engage in combat or.. when he sees you— it feels terrible, like his heart is beating incorrectly in his chest.

but then he feels erratic taps against his shoulder and he looks over to see yoimiya hopping excited as her other hand points toward the port, where a ship is arriving. yoimiya doesn’t know what you look like, so you might not be in that ship at all— he prepares before getting his hopes up. the two of them step closer towards the port and childe scans the passengers leaving the ship with utmost attention, like he’s never focused so hard in his life. amongst the crowd, the top of someone’s head who looks like you is visible and just from that, his heart stutters. it still beats incorrectly. finally, as though a blessing from the tsaritsa herself, it’s you.

and his heart starts beating right. erratically, but right.

his legs take him to you before can even think of it. there’s a sense of deja vu from your reunion in liyue, except now there’s assuredly nothing that’ll keep you away from each other, for the time being at least. the one thing that’s different this time is that neither of you say anything upon seeing each other, you just both wordlessly wrap yourselves in a tight, breathless hug.

neither of you pull away for a while either, until childe moves 3 inches or so back to keep you at arms length. he exhales heartily, as if he only got to breathe for the first time just now, and takes in all of your features now that he can. he notices that your eye bags seem darker, more prominent— have you not been getting enough sleep?

he’s about to ask you that very question when your eyes flicker towards something, or someone, behind him with a hint of wary surprise in your eyes and he remembers that yoimiya is here and probably shaking with excitement to meet you— he’s spoken a lot about you, but we’ve already gone over extensively just how much he does that.

“a-ah, where are my manners— y/n, this is yoimiya, owner of naganohara fireworks and friend i’ve made alon-“

a shrill squeak comes out from behind behind childe and within the blink of an eye, he’s shoved away by yoimiya, who takes you into her own bone crushing hug.

“oh, y/n, it’s so so so nice to finally meet you!”

the blonde releases you from the hug, her hands fly to hold yours as she hops up and down with joy only comparable to a prancing bunny. whatever standoffishness you felt before melts and you return yoimiya’s excitement with a big grin, one that makes childe’s chest swell more than he thought previously possible.

though much to his dismay, you’re viciously dragged around by a hyperactive firework maker around inazuma city, she shows you all the best shops and spots within the city (especially naganohara fireworks), while childe only hurries to keep up with you two. eventually, you’re released from yoimiya’s ecstatic grasp, as she mentions having to help her father with dinner— the old man won’t even hear the pot boiling on his own, she says.

the two of you end up at a viewpoint in the city, leaning against a railing, shoulders only a breath apart from each other. sunset arrives before you even notice, the caramel rays shining against the unusual violet hues nature of inazuma create a sweet ambience— one neither childe nor you dare to interrupt.

it’s almost painfully awkward, the silence. you would’ve expected to be chatting till the sun rose again about your respective escapades but nothing, perhaps you two have so much to talk about you don’t even know where to start. and so neither of you do.

childe finally decides to take the fall and fills the increasingly cooling air of the evening with a clear of his throat.

“so,” he swallows hard. “have you been well?”

you take a split second to answer, he notices that your fingers fidget as well.

“yeah, just fine.” you nod before nudging him playfully. “what about you? surviving the island weather?”

he frowns— you’re not telling the truth. firstly, changing the subject so fast before he even gets to ask about your… mission in sumeru, whatever it is he can’t seem to remember it. secondly, the way you fidget is strangely familiar to him. it takes a moment but childe recalls, it’s precisely one of your old tells.

when the two of you were young, sometimes your father would bring back board games from his job in the big city— some were guessing games, some were training cards, some murder mysteries and others games all about bluffing. and you were terrible at bluffing, eyes always scattering about, fingers itching against each other, tongue poking against your cheek. old habits die hard, he supposes.

he wishes he could feel good about reminiscing over those moments but really, right now they only serve to prove that you were lying about doing well— he doesn’t like that.

childe opts not to sour the moment, though. it’s not even your first night in inazuma yet.

“i’ve been faring. but uh.. remind me again as i seem to have forgotten,” he chuckles sheepishly. “what exactly was your mission in sumeru?”

your eyes scatter.

“just an on-field investigation about this strange disease that was born in sumeru, eleazar. unfortunately, it’s still all pretty confidential— so no snooping even for someone like you, mr. harbinger.”

“yeesh, sounds serious. i’ll do my best to make sure you unwind from all that uptight working for now, though. i’ve got the next two days planned with all sorts activities and places to show you around in inazuma.”

your shoulders seem to intense slightly at the idea of actually vacationing and childe feels some relief in his chest. he grins.

“but for now— i’d like to take you to try some inazuman cuisine and then get some rest. i’ll show you around the food district but i heavily suggest these… little stuffed balls of rice they sell at this kiosk, i believe they’re called ‘onigiri’.”

“mm, sounds tasty.”

—

“no, i’m telling you i saw it go over here!”

it’s somehow nostalgic, hopping around chinju forest and chasing bake-danukis around like unburdened children. childe swears he sees the esper of your younger self following after you as you hop from rock to rock over the river, giggling at the splashes of water that lick at your ankles. he hears the jingle of the monster yōkai as it tries to taunt him, but he’s long since forfeited his own goose chase to bask in the warm delight of watching you.

it’s like his limbs have shut down, locked in place for the sake of gluing his eyes to your grinning figure who runs up and down after the elusive bake-danuki without another care in the world. you know that the chase is aimless, that the yōkai has no purpose or finality other than to taunt you— but you don’t care, you’ve abandoned the rationality you usually cling to like the air in your lungs just to have stupid fun for once.

and it’s because childe took you here. the pride that fills him due to the fact is so immense that he feels as though he could fell an army of mitachurls without even using his vision.

the image of your state yesterday is still burned into his retinas, how utterly exhausted you looked, not to mention that you lied about being well. it’s the most basic state of being, just being ‘fine’, yet even that wasn’t your truth. the worst of it all is that he can’t even figure out why, what could’ve happened in sumeru that left you like that. it all terrifies him.

“…ax?”

huh?

oh. you’re calling out to him. childe feels his entire being perk up at that and he’s fully at attention within a heartbeat.

“ajaax? you okay?”

you’re standing two rocks away from the bake-danuki over the river current, but you no longer care for it. instead, you look over to childe and wave to catch his eye, worried frown invading your features.

childe nods rapidly. “peachy! i was just, ah— thinking up a strategy to catch that slippery bake-danuki!”

he monitors you closely for the rest of the day, making sure everything goes well as to not make you frown again. he takes you up to the grand narukami shrine, where your eyes fill with light as you gaze up in wonder at the huge cherry blossom tree, a pink petal gracefully lands on your head but it compliments you so splendidly that childe doesn’t have the heart to tell you about it.

he’s only not completely enamored by how the peaceful scenery frames you so majestically because he feels an itch at the back of his neck, turning around to see the guuji of the shrine throwing him a both amused and judgemental stare. she gives him the creeps.

the next day, childe takes you to watatsumi island. it seems you’re once again possessed by a childlike spirit, as you scurry about every inch of the island to take in all of the almost magical details of it. you tell him it reminds you of the fairytales you used to read and the sheer glee in your demeanor almost makes him tear up. at some point, the two of you even go swimming in one of the beaches that frame the cascading island and it’s a sight childe’s dreams only hope to imitate, to see you canonballing into the warm seawater with pure joy— it’s completely incomprehensible to the frigid tundras of snezhnaya that you’re both used to.

to finish it off, you’re back in inazuma city to dine in a traditional inazuman restaurant and you’re both almost bursting from how much you’ve eaten by the end of it. you’re waiting patiently for a waiter to come by your table and give you the check for the food with sleepy eyes— the kind of sleepy that only hits you after a hearty meal.

when it arrives, both of you reach out for the check simultaneously.

“come on, please let me at least pay for the food this time? you already paid for our last two dinners.” you plea.

“nonsense! i invited you to inazuma to give you a tour, you’re a practically guest here-“

“not like you’re a local either… just this once, please-”

“i brought so much excess mora, it’s been weighing down on my backpack. just let me empty it a little more with this check and i promise you i’ll let you pay for our next-“

“but i’ll feel terrible. you’ve been doing everything for me these past two days, it’s the bare minimum for me to-“

“y/n. i insist.”

your poor waiter.

“fine.” you huff begrudgingly, turning to look down at your empty plate with a defeated frown. childe immediately feels like the worst person in the world.

the walk back to your hotel is quiet, eerily so. it’s almost ironically parallel to your first night here, you even pass by the same viewpoint as it’s on the way to your destination— you choose to take a wordless detour to the same railing.

childe is a step behind when he joins you, the first thing he notices is how hard you’re gripping onto the railing, knuckles turning white. the second things how tightly you press your lips to suppress their trembling. and the third thing is the wet glimmer that lines your bottom eyelids. he wishes the earth would give way and swallow him whole.

“y/n… i-“

“w-why are you doing a-all of this?” the breaking in your voice is the worst sound childe has ever heard in his life.

“w-what do you mean? have i done something to upset you?”

you shake your head.

“why are you d-doing all of this for m-me? taking me to beautiful p-places… paying for all my f-food— what did i even do to d-deserve this from y-you?”

childe scoffs incredulously. why would you even be worried about that?

“because you’re my best friend, y/n. i care about you and i wanted to show you somewhere new, somewhere i loved. people simply do that for each other someti-“

“t-that’s the thing, though, i’m not just people! i’m a t-terrible person who works for an even worse person, a fucking m-monster that i let be a monster! people are sickly and d-dying because of him and i j-just let him do it! i don’t d-deserve sceneries or g-good food for free…”

you yell, tears running freely and ceaselessly down your cheeks. childe is almost angry at the complete nonsense you’re spewing, but he scatters his brain for a gentler way to calm you down. then, he remembers a previous tactic of his— he places both of his gloved hands at either side of your face.

successfully, you immediately shut up, save for the erratic breaths that leave you. you’re staring up at him with almost enraged confusion, but not at him, rather at yourself— you truly believe what you’re saying to the point where you’d lose sleep over it, it shatters childe’s heart into a million pieces.

“y/n. please listen to me very carefully. you are not a terrible person, in fact, you’re one of the best people i have ever met-“

“but i c-could’ve done-“ you interrupt and childe immediately squishes your cheeks inward as to press your lips shut.

“shush. you are the most intelligent, caring, attentive, patient person i have ever had the privilege of meeting, y/n. dottore is a psychopath, that’s no doubt, but you couldn’t have done anything to stop him— he’s got power even i couldn’t begin to gauge and… unfortunately he uses them for evil deeds. but you, you use yours for good and for that, you’re infinitely and eternally better than him.”

you’ve stopped crying at this point.

“you’ve only ever used your capabilities to help people— help me, the traveler, all of the new cadets who get stupid injuries in zapolyarny palace.” he chuckles. “and you care so much and so deeply. you took such good care of teucer when he was in liyue, you even chose to go against me, betray our mission, for the chance to help the traveler and save the people of the harbor, you nursed me back to heal when i was at my weakest.

i believe that in this world, the lines between good and bad are blurry— many dance around in its fog, heh, including myself. but you, y/n? i think you’re as good as it gets.”

there’s no reason for childe to still be holding your face in his hands, really, but at this point it seems like the entire rest of the world has disappeared for him.

“this trip has only been the minimum of the thanks i owe you, hell, i’d pay for all of the meals in your life if that even repaid half of what you’ve done for others.”

you chuckle at that.

“but… i-i also wanted to treat you to this because i…”

oh god, why did he start that sentence, he wasn’t ready to admit that just yet. childe’s heart hammers against his chest, bound to break out at any moment, and his throat becomes dry almost immediately. his hands are so clammy that he desperately wants to pull them away from you, unfortunately his limbs betray him and stay right where they are. childe thinks he feels a heartbeat at his fingertips, like he can feel it from the pulse in your neck, but his fingers shake too much to discern.

years in the battlefield, a harbinger title over his head, falling into the abyss and childe has never felt as terrified as he does now— he feels as though he can’t breathe.

the entire world, time and space, halt at the tip of his tongue, where it’s next words will forever change your relationship. but then again, childe did say he could live with rejection so long as you were safe and sound…

…couldn’t he?

“…b-because i mean to go to fontaine soon.”

i saw this tweet in the midst of finishing this chapter and i was like “oh my fucking god. them.” LMFAO

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe fic #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia genshin impact #childe tartaglia #childe genshin #tartaglia genshin impact #childe genshin impact #genshin fic

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 11

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; several mentions of blood, torture and killing (could you guess that it’s dottore related) as well as mentions of self-loathing

notes ; sorry folks, no childe this time! this is the dedicated sumeru chapter, i am not dwelling any fucking further on it or i might die. this chapter is also solely focused on the relationship between reader and scara! bonding about your fucked up boss with the bitchiest little cockroach on earth <33

honestly pretty happy with this one, it’s got the exact depth of character that i’ve been wanting to add to the reader, their internal moral conflict, their skepticism toward gods and their eternal guilt as to what they’ve gone through with dottore. as well as how they’re definite besties with scaramouche!!

finally, just ignore the nahida logic toward the end- i don’t CARE if it doesn’t make sense in the lore for her to be able to do that and also DONT MIND the self insert of the name i gave to my wanderer. ok goodbye.

previous | next | masterlist

you wish someone had warned you of how cold nights in the rainforest were.

leading up to this trip, you were only trying to mentally and physically prepare yourself for the extreme weathers of sumeru, obviously more directed towards the desert. you expected to only be hit with scalding heat that you’d never once see in snezhnaya— but in the rainforest, where you’d been stationed, it was shivering cold during nighttime. cold is no stranger to you, unspokenly so, but the chilliness in sumerian air was different from the one you grew up with. snezhnayan cold was dry and sharp, like microscopic shards of ice constantly nip at your skin, which you’ve long since learned to bear— though sumerian cold was overwhelmingly humid and smothering, like a—

“can you stop shivering? the sound of your joints shaking is gonna give me a headache.”

oh, that’s right. you were in a room with that brat.

for a moment, for one shining moment you’d forgotten you were in a damp workshop, dottore branded, in the middle of the rainforest with the doctor’s most promising little experiment— the balladeer. it’s only been a few weeks into the collaboration between the sages of the akademiya and the fatui, to create a manmade god out of scaramouche with the electro gnosis he’d previously disappeared with. even thinking about everything that was explained to you about the project made bile rise up to your throat.

“is there even anything inside that porcelain head of yours to ache?” you snarl back.

scaramouche scoffs, you can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused by your response.

“watch your tongue, vermin. wouldn’t want me to call your boss over and see how fast he finds a new squirming roach to refill your position.”

“for someone destined to be a god, you seem to really rely on a ‘mere mortal’ like dottore to get your way.”

“you cower in his presence like a cornered lamb and then start running your mouth the second he’s away, don’t even try to act as if you’re better than me. you never will.”

“it’s funny that you think someone with an ego as catastrophically big as yours could ever become a real god.”

scaramouche inhales sharply, his eyebrows furrow further as a manifestation of how irked he’s become.

“the gall you have to criticize my divinity… i heard of what you did in liyue, y’know— your little.. moment of unfaithfulness. you were only lucky that the imbecile of a harbinger you were up against wouldn’t dream of hurting you.”

the mere indirect mention of ajax makes your heart stutter—you’d only ever admit to yourself how much you wish you were still back in the golden house facing off against foul legacy instead of here. anything but here. the balladeer, somehow, seems to sense that you space out slightly at his words and presumes his snark.

“unlike him, if you decide to join that pathetic traveler and try to stand in my way, i won’t hesitate to crush you into a fine pulp.”

your fists close so tightly that your nails begin to dig into your palms. “at least i have somewhere else to be and someone else to get to! you have nothing but this, if this fails you’ll stay in this form and remain stuck in dottore’s grasp until he gets bored and finds a better lab rat to experiment on. you chose to isolate yourself in the grasp of a fucking monster like him up to the point where this stupid project is all you have in life and it’s all you’ll lose when it goes shit!”

your outburst seems to have finally broken through scaramouche and you can tell that if he had any veins under his skin, they’d be tensing through it at this moment from how vexed he becomes— if he had any blood, it’d be slowly seeping through his bottom lip from how hard he bites it. even though he’s strapped to a wall of tubes and machinery inside the workshop, he launches as far forward as he can like he means to strangle you where you stand.

“i could end your depressing excuse of an existence right this second if i wanted to!” he practically barks out, his words echo through the empty metallic room as you give up on retaliating. silence invades the space between the two of you while you both pant from how much you’ve argued.

this always, inevitably seemed to happen whenever you and scaramouche interacted— you’d back and forth like bickering siblings until both of you were entirely too pissed off at each other to keep going. it was pointless. knowing someone as ‘take-no-shit’ as the balladeer, you’d expected for him to have reprimanded or even just kill you off for your insolence long ago, but he does nothing and your arguments just happen again and again. you can’t tell if it’s because he recognizes you’re one of the few people who has enough of a brain to try to humble him cleverly or if he’s planning a bigger, more painful demise for you lest you stop overestimating your authority before him.

“why…?” he growls lowly, but this time it doesn’t sound like intends to verbally berate you— rather it sounds like he’s just… frustrated. maybe even with himself.

“why are you so sure that this’ll fail? even if you have that idiot to go back to, you still put your career and your life at risk by working for dottore. why? why do you work in fear of him and skepticism of the tsaritsa’s cause?”

you chuckle bitterly. “i had no choice. if my homeland wasn’t so reliant on its military, i would’ve never even considered getting a medical degree in the first place. and,”

you pause, flashes of dottore’s cruel scarlet gaze stab at your mind and you physically flinch slightly. it seems it hadn’t settled into your chest how imprisoned you were as definitively before— you talk big talk but you’re just as trapped as scaramouche.

“a-and he forced me to. i blinked once and suddenly there was blood on my hands that wasn’t mine and an assistant title over my head.”

scaramouche is silent. you can feel his stare on you but, once again, it doesn’t feel as though he scrutinizes you. a smaller, more hopeful part of your brain whispers to you that he might even be sympathizing with you— even if he’s so convinced that this is righteous, that his godly destiny is finally within his grasp admittedly because of dottore, he still fucking despises that man. probably more than you do, given how much he’s been prodded and tested by him over the years of his position within the fatui.

“would you kill him?” he asks suddenly, the question hangs heavy in the air of the workshop. his tone is quiet and deliberative.

“w-what?” your breath is briefly taken from your throat.

“if you could. if you had the chance to wipe his livelihood off of teyvat, would you do it?”

your mind blanks. it’s equally a simple question and the hardest one you’ve ever had to answer in your life. it’s about an innate desire for liberation, for closure— if you just could would you? but then… it’s also about opportunity, about the possibility of you ever stumbling across the chance to finish him— if you would could you?

now that you think about it, you’ve never considered dottore to be someone killable. he’s always been so up high, so entirely unreachable to anyone around him. the second fatui harbinger is a heavy crown, perhaps not for him to wear but for you to bear witness to. it’s almost as if… he’s the untouchable god here, he’s the culmination of unjust divinity that you so loathe, not scaramouche. it was never scaramouche.

you have your answer.

“no.”

“h-huh? why?”

the balladeer is visibly taken aback, his shoulders roll back slightly and his head leans backwards into the wall. sheer incredulousness overtakes his features before it blends into suspiciously— he’s looking for you to elaborate justly on the choice.

you chuckle. “even if it’s.. not exactly right, i’d love for nothing more, trust me. but comparing the two of us… i think you deserve to stab him in the heart more than i do. you’ve known him for longer and that’s a misfortune few people have.”

his breath hitches. it seems he wholeheartedly did not expect that to be your reason for hypothetically letting go of the chance to make sure dottore feels as much pain as he’s cause you— for it to be so he can return what the doctor has done to him over the years. scaramouche analyzes your expression, as if he’s desperately looking to find the logic in your sympathy, after all you barely know what he’s been through. all you’ve been told is that he was supposedly a puppet prototype created by the electro archon, hence his attachment to the relative gnosis— but beyond that, you can’t even begin to imagine what sorts of hardships he’s been through to turn out as hostile as he is. yet this was still your answer. he looks aimlessly toward the ground defeated and… if you dare to say, he’s trying to hide how much your answer affected him.

“foolish human… once i become a god, it won’t matter wether that doctor lives or not.” scaramouche dismisses with a growl and your suspicions are confirmed.

—

at some point of this project, you became thoroughly convinced that you’re a terrible person.

most of your time has been spent inside joururi workshop, overseeing the construction of scaramouche’s godly form— shouki no kami, it’s been called. even overseeing is a gross overstatement of what you do here, which is essentially nothing. you’re a medical professional specialized in, well, human patients and with the closest thing to a patient here being a doll created by an archon, there’s little for you to do.

within these rusted metal walls, you’ve had more than enough time to think over everything— especially how you work for possibly one of the most terrible people in teyvat and do nothing but cower in his shadow while constantly praying that he gets what he deserves without doing anything about it. you’re pathetic. you’ve since met the traveler and paimon in their current stay in sumeru, they’ve told you about their ventures and investigations around the land in the midst of heroically trying to solve the nation’s problems and have specifically reported to you about their discoverings on a scholar named zandik and his atrocious actions, you don’t need to think twice to wonder who he’s become.

you recall paimon’s look of horror while she retells what they found about zandik murdering a classmate, how adamant he was about investigating a ruin killing machine that took several of his peers, his involvement with the investigation of eleazar, the hospital in the desert— and hearing it all, you couldn’t even muster fake shock. all you do is watch that man do unthinkable, inhuman things without even batting an eye, it’s all normal to you now.

you’re a terrible person.

you can’t even bear to recall the forest ranger the traveler and paimon befriended, that they told you about— collei, an unfortunate victim of eleazar and even worse, former… patient of the doctor. you don’t think you could ever muster up the audacity to look her in the eyes if the two of you ever met. collei is partially why you don’t dare to leave the workshop if unrequired, any venture around the rainforest could very likely lead you to stumble into her and be forced to face the very personification of your guilt.

you spend so much time deliberating over all of this and yet… you still blindly follow after the traveler, paimon and a small girl when they enter the facility.

you hide within the shadows and pipeways of the workshop, watching the three brave souls solve the overly complex and arguably unsafe pathways of the place and waiting for them to unlock the marbled elevator leading to the larger area where scaramouche’s fo— err… shouki no kami rests to await the final touches.

when the puzzles are completed, you move to stand beside the structure of the lift and the traveler is the first to spot you as they arrive. she presents you a small, friendly smile, you don’t think you’re deserving of it. you think you’re much less deserving of the immediate kindness you receive from the small girl who came along with the two travelers. she speaks so wisely and patiently, with a distinct aura… it’s like a change in the air, you’ve only felt it twice— near the tsaritsa’s quarters in zapolyarny palace and during your dinner with zhongli. she’s an archon.

your hands close into fists, nails digging into your palms— you’re so tired of entangling yourself with godly beings. yet… your feet still take you inside the chamber, your fingers still tingle with slowly growing cryo energy, your body still mindlessly wants to help sort this out. nothing will fix what you’ve done, what you’ve been an accomplice to and what you’ve allowed to happen, so why are you still here? why are you still trying to help your friends by sustaining them with your healing capabilities, why are you still putting yourself in the frontlines of danger just to provide the most minimal assistance?

you want to say it’s because you’re itching to see scaramouche get his ass handed to him, but… that’s not it. why isn’t that it? he’s so arrogant and condescending, even more now that he’s so far into divinity— he’s never looked at you as if you were an ant to crush quite as much as he is now. he attacks you so mercilessly, like he promised he would, like your answer to his question truly meant nothing to him. he’d evaporate your and dottore’s existence all the same with his new powers, it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. though, that taste could also be the blood invading your lips from all the injuries you’re sustaining.

scaramouche, or whatever it is he wishes to be called now, has pushed you to your physical limit and he’s done without breaking a sweat. so why is that something tugs at your chest when he’s desperately clawing out of his cushy seat inside shouki no kami to reach for the gnosis that’s just been torn out of his chest? why do you swallow hard when you hear his nearly crying pleas, or more so threats since it’s scaramouche, for nahida to take anything but the gnosis— his wails that he’ll never go back to what he was before?

and moreover, why do you sprint to catch him, despite how entirely hurt and exhausted you are, when the tubes on his back finally give way and he proceeds to fall from the absurd height of his mechanical form? why do your eyes sting when you fail to catch him and he hits the ground with a devastating cloud of smoke? why is there a warm wetness flowing down your cheeks as you spot a crack on his pale porcelain skin, obviously a consequence of his hard impact against the marbled floor.

and the most vexing question of all— why does nahida let you stay as she whisks away his unconscious form?

—

it’s ironic how much you hate gauzes.

they’re so itchy… they prick at your skin and press uncomfortably against your injuries— you’re only lucky you’re usually tending to others’ wounds rather than receiving them. in fact, the other way around occurs so rarely that you don’t even remember how you got hurt this time. it truly, wholeheartedly escapes your mind and you consider yourself to be someone with a good memory.

every time you try to recall how you got injured, it’s like a buzzing sensation in your brain, a hurtful one, that doesn’t reveal a single mental image of the situation. you’re almost beginning to consider the possibility that you just fell from your bed while sleep and fell so hard that you had to be bedridden in sumeru city while dottore took off to the motherland without a glance back. but to be fair, he’s probably still fuming internally from having to shut down all of his clones at once before the new, young goddess of wisdom.

personally, you’d say it serves him right for uh.. f-for err… what was it again?

gods, you must’ve hit your head when you fell from your bed— that has to be why you’re struggling so hard to remember what dottore was doing in sumeru, the very reason you were transferred here so abruptly.

though, you don’t dwell on the matter for much longer, as nahida, the traveler, paimon and… an unknown person walk into the little room inside the sanctuary of surasthana that you were given. all four of them stare at you expectantly, especially the individual you’ve never seen before— you note that he wears a ridiculously wide hat.

“so… did you intend for them to remember?” paimon asks with uncertainty, still looking at you up and down.

“…no, you idiot. did you forget that i intended to erase myself from the world?” the stranger scoffs toward paimon, you’re slightly unnerved by his rudeness.

he looks over to you and you swear that his gaze unhardens in the most microscopic degree, as if he’s saddened that you… apparently don’t remember something.

“there just—“ he pauses with a sigh and looks toward nahida. “there has to be another way, right?”

the small archon proceeds to gaze down at the floor aimlessly, finger tapping her chin and quiet hum escaping her throat as she thinks deeply. she shakes her head in disappointment.

“directly, no— i can’t extract memories of theirs that don’t exist anymore due to your wish. the closest thing to that would be for me to replicate the compilation of memories i showed to you, only narrowing it down to the moments between the two of you. they’d be watching their past self from your perspective.”

the strangers gaze lights up, once again in the slightest, and he nods vehemently. “yes yes, try that.”

you feel like you’re in a fever dream, or an out-of-body experience where you’re not present in the room at all as they continue to discuss something to do with you that you couldn’t decipher to save your own life. you frown and stand up frustratedly.

“i-i’m sorry, are any of you gonna explain what in teyvat is happening? what memories, what wish? i mean— who even is this guy?!” you gesture to him incredulously.

nahida quietly steps over to stand right in front of you and cups both of your hands into her own with the softest, most gentle hold you’ve ever felt. she looks up at you with equal patient and shoots you a sympathetic smile.

“y/n, please answer this honestly, would you trust me to do this? i know we only met recently, but i promise you i would not take a subordinate of the doctor under my care after they willingly injured themselves to assist me, only to put them back in harm’s way later.”

your eyebrows furrow with confusion once more— you willingly hurt yourself for nahida? not saying that you’d never do that with full consciousness but… how in her majesty’s name could you have possibly injured yourself to the extent you’re currently recovering from?

she chuckles. “that is how you would expectedly react to such a wild reveal of information. but what i am attempting to do next is with the full intent to help you remember what happened. i can’t promise it will fully work, as i’ve never done this before, but i’ll do my best to make sure it will not damage you in any way— past a mild headache, i’d say. i just need you to trust me.”

gods, how could you ever say no to such a soothing presence like nahida’s? there isn’t a single bone in your body that thinks she’s lying to you. plus, the stranger looks at you with such innocent expectancy that there’s an odd pang in your chest, though you don’t know why it’d ever react like that.

you face nahida once again and nod firmly. “i trust you.”

her smile widens with satisfaction and she steps away from you, turns slightly to the side, closes her eyes and joins her palms. after a few seconds she produces a small, blindingly glowing green orb. it’s got several specks of stylized sigils radiating from it, ones that are signature to nahida’s abilities. you give each person in the room a quick glance and they all grin up at you as a silent wish of good luck— except for the stranger, who looks ever so slightly anxious.

you touch the orb.

the first thing you feel is the forewarned headache, it hits you with full force instantaneously. next is horrifically blurred images of… you, from someone else’s perspective. in one image, you’re looking unsuredly at the person, as if it’s a first meeting and not a friendly one— you note that the background seems to be dottore’s lab. next is another environment resemblant of dottore’s work and you’re found in the dead center, yelling with at the person with genuine, irreplicable anger— you note that the perspective is taller than you, as if the subject is physically taller than you or… mounted to a wall or something. finally, the most blurred image of all, you’re sprinting toward the subject from afar with terrified tears forming at your eyes, arms stretched out in front of you as if you’re trying to catch something— you note that you’re upside down in the perspective and it’s in motion, as if the subject is actively falling head first into the ground.

your head really fucking hurts.

your brain is entirely unsure of what to do with the information it’s fed but… what does it mean for you? that you knew the man in front of you and physically forgot of his existence? now what— you still can’t put a name to the face, or the face to someone you know at all!

the stranger seems to recognize exactly what you’re feeling and steps up to exclaim.

“dottore— would you kill him?”

and it’s like everything clicks.

suddenly, you remember everything. you’re hit with a frying pan to the head’s worth of memories, of familiarities and it all clicks with the point of view you were shown. he’s here, he’s okay. and he’s very obviously not a god anymore.

your mouth hangs open as immediate tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you examine him up and down. he’s wearing different clothes, they’re blue and turquoise now— and most of all, he’s got a shiny new anemo vision hung over the left side of his chest. no, more importantly than that, the crack on his porcelain skin is gone. you’re so relieved.

“n-no.” you manage to get out in a shaky, sob-y voice, big relieved smile on your face.

he’s forced to suppress a chuckle at your answer, one that he fails at hiding before you could fully register it. he looks to the side and pulls his hat slightly downwards.

“glad to see you haven’t lost your head, worm.”

you laugh warmly, tears freely flowing before you pause for a moment— sure you’re happy to see him again but… what was his name again? it’s at the very tip of your tongue, to the point where it’s frustrating. it just never comes out.

“wait, uhm— this’ll sound weird but… w-what do i call you? i don’t know if i’ve fully recovered my memories, i just can’t figure it out.”

“wanderer.”

“wanderer..? i-is that a proper name or a title, are you—“

“i’m not going back to the fatui. i have no business there.”

“oh…”

“don’t sulk. i’ll still get my revenge on dottore later.” he teases.

the traveler nudges.. wandere’s side and he coils away with a scowl briefly, before the notices the knowing look on her face. he takes a moment to understand what she’s implying.

“and i suppose… there is another name, i’m not as used to it.”

“what is it?”

“…kunikuzushi.”

“kunikuzushi…” you sound it out and nod with an approving smile.

“i like that.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe fic #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartagalia genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia imagines

[eepyuii]

the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects ; suguru geto

synopsis; when the king puts you under the supervision of a dashing knight, you promise to make his job as difficult as possible. unfortunately, suguru geto is the patient sort.

word count; 21.1k (this accidentally turned into a novella idk how it happened nobody look at me :’3 this is a love letter to sugu ok…)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, knight!sugu x royalty!reader, royalty au (not accurate to any time period ever), technically a bodyguard au, slowburn, reader is a brat and suguru likes it a little more than he should, reader also has thinly veiled daddy issues, protective sugu :3, he goes feral in one part (descriptions of violence and bloodshed), reader gets briefly kidnapped lol, very fluffy overall though!!, includes shifting povs & time-skips, also lots and lots of devotion, knight!sugu is real & beautiful & loves you specifically <33

a/n; HAPPY late BDAY SUGU MY BABY THE LOVE OF MY LIFE this fic has been in the works for a WHILE now and means a lot to me much like sugu himself :’3 dedicated to my beloved @kissxcore for infecting me w this concept & also my dear @mossmurdock for bringing knight!sugu into my life, both of u have made the brainrot infinitely worse and i will never be free (and ofc @softgirlgonehaywire & @dollsuguru & @jtkys for being the sweetest always) I LOVE U ALL!!!!!!!!

like most things, it begins and ends with a dream.

images form in the depths of your subconscious, wild and vivid, splattering on the canvas of your mind. a dream of cold metal, dark thickets, iron-scented skin — and a knight. 

(or… a wolf?)

before you is a small clearing. trees sprout from the rugged grounds, blooming proudly, clogging up the wool-coated sky. all around you lie empty, discarded suits of armor, dirty with rust and something that smells of death. wilted sunflowers stumble under their own weight, and dragonflies buzz in a frenzy, manic, driven to hysteria. in the distance you think you hear the shrieking of ravens.

and there’s a knight, just ahead, tall and imposing, covered in steel from head to toe. holding a blinding sword, facing the sky, doing nothing to stop the pitter patter of raindrops ricocheting off his burganet. you stand by the entrance of the woods, and watch him in silence. 

he looks a little lonely. 

and in comes the wolf. gracious, growling, big and bad, snarling and showing off the white of its fangs. dragging its claws against the ground, unruly fur ruffled by the harsh breeze; widening its maw, a silent fury on its tongue. from this angle, it looks a little like a grin.

the wolf begins to chase the knight. or maybe it’s the knight chasing the wolf — you can’t really tell. they run in circles around each other, like the sun and the moon, an orbit of violence, matching their steps. almost in harmony — almost, but not quite, because suddenly they’re closing in on you, great and ugly, beasts wearing different hides, and —

and that’s when you wake up.

”your highness!” 

a groan pushes past your lips, groggy with fatigue, and your eyelids flicker open like the drawing of a flimsy curtain. a series of mismatched little blinks, until your vision clears. 

above you waits a familiar face; impatient. one of the maids, your foggy brain tells you. and she isn’t pleased.

but all you do is drag your limbs up to cover your pillow-creased face, sluggishly, muttering beneath your breath. ”a wolf…”

silence. 

the maid tilts her head, with a furrow of her brows. 

”… excuse me?”

”there was a wolf,” you echo, a dreamy exhale muffled against the skin of your palm. stifling a yawn. ”and a guy… he was cool.” 

she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. settling back into her usual rhythm. mildy berating. ”did you have another one of your dreams?” she asks, a little irritated, and for a second you think you hear a tick-tock ticking down. ”at any rate — you need to get up. the king and queen demand your presence.”

ah. of course.

a huff, displeased, even as you force yourself into a sitting position. stretching your limbs like a grumpy feline. ”demands…” you murmur, a click of your tongue. ”they think they can just wake me up whenever they want? at the crack of dawn?”

”it’s 11 a.m, your highness.”

”early as hell,” you rasp, willfully tuning out her murmur of mind your language. letting your legs hang off the bed. ”what do they want, anyway?”

following your silent cue, she hums, walking towards the edge of the room. picking up your discarded blouse, and bringing it to you. ”i was told it was of utmost importance,” is all she says, lifting the fabric as if getting ready to dress you.

”i can do that myself,” you hiss, snatching the white silk from her outstretched hands. as always, she does nothing but sigh, sigh, sigh. it’s all they ever do. ”i’m not a toddler.”

from your position, still cozied up in bed, on messy sheets and fluffy pillows — you can see the view beyond your translucent window’s glass. a sky so gray it’s almost comforting, dark clouds forming in the distance, silently ruminating. when the maid pushes it open, and a cold breeze slips through the gap, you can smell the rain; heavy, earthy, daffodils and oak wood. in the distance, sunflower fields seek shelter from the downpour. 

but your eyes remain glued to the woods. far ahead, but still close enough to see — the woods you long for. the ones you’ll never get to see up close. 

a bitter taste blooms on your tongue. 

(spitefully, your teeth sink into the tender flesh of your bottom lip.)

”fine,” comes a heavy sigh, ruefully resigned. forcing yourself into compliancy. before you can change your mind, you hop off the mattress, running your fingers through tousled strands of hair. ”i’ll go see them.”

and she brightens, visibly, disapproving frown smoothed away with the breeze. for now. ”thank you. they are worried, i’ll have you know.”

a scoff, as you cross the threshold of your private quarters. humorous. ”i bet they are.” 

”your highness,” she calls, following close behind. her tone is reprimanding, now; you will yourself not to shrink. ”we almost lost you.”

”i almost got kidnapped,” you huff. ”not the same thing.”

again, that exasperated sigh. it’s a wonder her lungs haven’t run out of air. ”do you have any idea who that man was?” 

the question makes your mind still. shifting gears, a clockwork coming to life, repeating it inside your head — do you have any idea who that man was? 

”… he was hot.”

sigh. you hear it before it comes, and raise your lips on instinct. 

”no, i mean it!” you ensure her, throwing a fleeting glance behind you. ”he just had that rugged look about him, you know? the scar and everything…” a blissful little exhale, as you gush over your would-be killer. ”what a waste. if only he had gotten away.”

”with you in tow?” the maid quips, raising a brow. her words are steeped in irony.

”of course!” another disapproving glance. ”i mean, did you see those biceps —”

”behave.”

with a flutter of your puffy sleeves, you turn around to face her. and ah — there it is. the hardness of her jaw, those frosty pupils, the impending signs of her dwindling patience. you can see it, hear it, that eerie tick-tock signaling the breaching of her limit. all humans have one; a clockwork heart, of sorts, ticking down to the moment they run out of leftover kindness to give unruly heirs. 

over the years, you’ve gotten expertly good at making the clock tick quicken. a skill you’re very proud of.

”and what if i don’t?” you bite back, just barely restraining your growing grin. delighted at the attention. ”he had nice biceps! what, am i not allowed to tell the truth?”

and the tick-tock quickens. she stills, just behind you, hands on her hips. frustration bubbling beneath her sharp syllables. ”my god, you are impossible today!”

for a moment, you stop to look at her. weighing your options. should you reel it back in, try and appease her? or keep pushing? the answer, as always, is push. it’s all you’ll ever do.

so you turn on your heel, and take a step forward, a spiteful grin curved into your lips. ”deal with it, or leave.” a beat. ”i don’t remember asking you to accompany me.”

before you round the corner, your ears pick up on one final harsh sigh. she makes no move to follow you.

(hmph.)

”where is your maid?”

in front of you stands a throne, proud and luxurious, polished marble, two seats right next to each other. the quarters of the royal pair are the same as always, vivid paintings hanging from every wall in sight, wolf pelts thrown over tables and windowsills. the scent of dried lavender seeps through the air, suffocating you. 

and, of course, the king. speaking to you with the same judgemental voice as always; one you’ve grown painfully accustomed to. 

”i wanted her to get me breakfast,” is the lie you decide on, finely tailored in white. just to make sure she doesn’t get into any actual trouble. ”you didn’t exactly give me time to eat any.”

the king sighs, mild disappointment laced into the breath. nothing new. when he says your name, it comes out sounding like a bad joke. ” — you aren’t a child anymore. one day you’ll be ruling this kingdom; forcing the maids to do your bidding won’t win you any favours.” 

”mhm.” absently, you fidget with the sleeves of your blouse. not quite listening. ”so, what did you want? it’s not often i’m allowed here.”

an evil glint shines in your eyes, for a moment. you cast a meaningful glance at the maid by your father’s side — his personal favorite. 

”don’t you have, ah…” you taste the words on your tongue. ”more pressing matters to attend to?”

he doesn’t flinch. as always, he pretends not to know that you know — that everyone knows. 

yet he still gives you that cold, cold look, colder than the howls of wind beyond the castle walls, cold enough to send a shiver down your spine. it makes you want to push, push, push. break the clockwork in half.

but he’s wise enough to follow your lead. “let me get to the point, then,” he cranes his neck, showing off the fox pelt snug around his shoulders. ”the queen and i thought it best to hire a new knight for you.”

you blink. eyelashes fluttering. all you can hear is the pitter patter of rain against the windowpane. 

then you groan.

”another one?” you whine, barely resisting the urge to stomp your feet on the floor. ”please, no. it’s such a pain getting rid of them. you know they won’t last long!”

”we aren’t talking about any ordinary knight,” he tuts, as monotone as ever. ignoring your little temper tantrum. ”after what happened with toji zenin, we aren’t taking any chances.”

you tilt your head. confused, for a moment. ”toji?” the gears of your mind turn, clicking into place; zenin. a family of assassins, a man with a scar on his bottom lip. ”ohhh — the hottie.”

your father pretends not to hear you. 

”it was a close call,” he hums, and you muster the strength not to crack another joke about his biceps. it takes restraint. ”we need someone who can protect you properly. indefinitely, from even the stealthiest of assassins. so…”

your eyes meet his. gazes overlapping, the same colour, one above and one below. he’s always, always towered over you. for as long as you remember. 

that is what royalty means — absolute dominion. 

(it makes you want to curl into a ball.)

”today, you’ll be meeting with the greatest knight.” he says the words with an odd sense of pride, an inner satisfaction. ”he’ll be here any moment. i thought it best for you to get acquainted as soon as possible.”

a moment passes. you’re broken out of your bout of compliance, like a rubber band snapping. a clock tick quickening. ”wait, what?” you gape. ”father —”

”your majesty.” 

…

the correction is stern. gritting your teeth, you force the words from out your throat. ”… your majesty,” there’s a slight grumble to your voice, ”what the hell? now? i haven’t even —”

”you have no choice in this matter,” he cuts you off. coldly, coldly, coldly. ”behave, and there won’t be any complications.”

behave.

behave, behave, behave. it’s all they ever want from you.

(you might as well be a pet.)

the queen is silent, as always. eerily so, not saying a word, like a puppet on a string. she hasn’t looked you in the eye even once so far, not even a passing glance. not like you’d expect her to. her clockwork heart stopped beating for you a long time ago. 

automatons, the both of them. making decisions for you, like there isn’t a sliver of rational thought in your brain. how irritating.

you’re just about to part your lips, when —

”… am i interrupting?”

you still.

a velvety voice. silky, smooth, tailored by the finest seamstress — tucked between the slightest raspy vowel, a hint of something deeper. it sounds like honey, wine, a molten mass of spring clouds. 

the king ahead of you brightens, suddenly, lips curling up into a smile. it looks almost warm; you didn’t know he was capable of making that kind of expression. ”ah, suguru!” he calls out to the source of the noise. ”no, certainly not. forgive me for the short notice.”

when you turn around, you see a knight.

he’s beautiful. gorgeous, even. fair skin, sharp facial features, no scars to be seen. a sword hangs in a scabbard by his hip, and he’s wearing a set of armor, still glistening with the aftermaths of the rain beating down outside. his hair cascades down the metal like a black river, loose and silky, a single strand obscuring his pretty face. and his eyes are a soothing shade of brown; you’re almost certain they’d look warm, if there was any sunlight to engulf them. as it is, in the shadow of a murky spring morning, they’re a dark cedar, almost obsidian. but they look kind. 

and they’re fixed on the king. he’s smiling, too, a dangerous little tilt. disgustingly charming. he hangs his head in a bow, hand on his heart — reverent.

(ah. he’s one of those knights.)

”my king,” the strange knight greets, tongue wrapping around the vowels like a dragon curling around a pile of gold. ”not at all. i’m always grateful for an opportunity to see you.”

(oh god. it’s even worse than you thought.)

”i should say the same of you,” the king echoes, with a warmth that you’re wholly unaccustomed to. your stomach churns, swirling with discomfort. ”our nation’s pride and joy.”

the knight chuckles; muffled by his closed fist. he’s feigning embarrassment, you can tell. ”you flatter me,” he purrs, words flowing smoothly from his lips. too smoothly. ”i’m simply doing my duty as one of your subjects. but, needless to say — i’m honoured to have earned your respect.”

finally, his gaze shifts to you. and you think he must notice how disgusted you are, the reproach you feel for him, that silent contempt. because you aren’t trying to hide it; it’s there, clear as day, in the crease of your brow, your frosty pupils. lips pursed, like they’re aching to bare and to bite.

but he continues to smile. warm, still, like a mellow summer breeze. a well of pizzicato drops.

you feel a little nauseous.

”ah, and you must be the royal heir?” a tilt of his head, knowing. a shimmer of recognition painted in those ashen eyes. ”or should i say…. my liege.” 

he walks towards you, in long strides, slow and steady, only to get down on one knee. ew. ”forgive me; my name is suguru geto. your knight, from this day forth.” his palm unfurls, cedar eyes crinkling with feigned endearment. holding it out towards the subject of his newfound devotion. ”i’m delighted to finally meet you.”

(suguru geto. you’ve heard of him, of course. who hasn’t?)

his hand stills in the air, waiting patiently for yours; to bring it to his glossy lips. but you don’t do anything. nothing, other than studying his smile, picture perfect, tailor-made, sweet enough to melt on your tongue. so sweet you know it must be at least a little bit fake — the smile of a liar. 

it’s a smile you know well.

so you mimic it, a bitter glint in your eyes, only for your hands to retreat to your pockets. and out comes a purr. ”you’re a bad actor.”

silence. the knight doesn’t flinch, not even close, but he blinks, a flutter of his dark eyelashes. like a raven taking flight. that everlasting smile never falters, but for just a second, a clock-tick or two, you swear you catch the slightest hint of something flickering through his keen iris.

interest?

”forgive them, suguru,” the king is quick to chip in, finally stepping down from his throne to join you on the floor. the queen doesn’t move, but she gives suguru a fond smile, and it makes your grimace deepen. ”they woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning. and they’re a bit of a problem child — i’m sure you’ve heard.”

that makes you snicker, silently. maybe just a little bit smug. you’re sure it must be a headache for him to deal with.

”i can’t say i haven’t,” suguru chuckles, raising himself up from the marble floor. your smile falls. ”but it’s not an issue. i understand.”

he looks at you, really looks at you, and you give him an unimpressed stare. wholly disinterested. trying not to squirm under his scrutiny. 

”i’m sure it must feel suffocating — being under this kind of supervision.” he gives you a tilt of his head, strands of charcoal following the movement. smooth, like a waltz, one you didn’t agree to. ”isn’t it?”

ah. the sympathy card.

before you can answer, he bows; hand on his heart. knights and their rituals. ”i’m at your service, my liege. if i make you uncomfortable, at any point, just tell me.” once more, he meets your gaze, a sincerity in his own — reserved just for you. ”really.”

… ugh.

to your right comes a pleased voice, deep and satisfied, as self-affirming as ever. ”i knew i could entrust them to you,” the king speaks, placing a palm on your shoulder. you try not to flinch. ”aren’t you grateful? this handsome, kind man is all yours.”

a sharp scoff is all you can muster, nails digging into the skin of your palm. but suguru only chuckles, good-natured.

they continue to speak, about this and that. you tune out most of it, caught up in preparing for the long headache ahead. sure, you’re an expert at getting knights to quit, but it takes time. weeks, sometimes, just to make them finally crack, push and push until their patience reaches its limit. and suguru seems resilient. more than anything, he seems thoroughly loyal to the king; that really doesn’t bode well for you.

but before you can formulate a step-by-step guide to making his job a living hell, the sound of your name snaps you out of your trance.

it’s the king, of course, as always. you hate that you still instinctively respond to his call. like an obedient puppy. ”show suguru to your quarters. he’ll be accompanying you indefinitely, from now on. don't give him any trouble.” his voice finally sounds cold again; a warning. ”i’ll hear about it.”

(indefinitely.)

a moment passes. then you sigh, deep and heavy, haphazardly hiding a roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah,” you cross your arms. ”i got it.”

suguru meets your furrowed brows with something gentle, a soothing little smile. offering his arm, for you to hold on to. knights and their rituals. ”shall we?”

but you brush past him. stubborn in your independence, in your desire to make this as discomforting for him as it is for you. ”follow me,” is all you say, a dissatisfied huff. loud enough to pick up on.

to your great displeasure, he matches your hurried pace. side by side, as you walk down the halls, the clicking of his shoes echoing against the marble. a shadow you can’t shine away; one that’ll stay with you indefinitely. you feel his gaze burn into you.

”my lord.”

”don’t talk to me,” you sigh, sharp like the sword by his hip. a low click of your tongue. ”just so you know, i didn’t agree to this.”

”that was my question, actually,” he grins, ever so slightly. fingertips tapping against his scabbard. ”i am sorry, you know. i meant what i said — i’m sure it’s difficult for you.” he casts you another one of those meaningful glances, a meaning you have no intention of discerning. ”but i have my orders.”

you bite back a laugh. ”you guys love those, huh?” when you turn your head to face him, still walking forward, he’s met with a taunting smirk. ”your little orders.”

but his smile doesn’t falter. damn.

”not a fan of knights?” he asks, instead, a playful lilt to his syrupy voice. coaxing, accommodating. infuriating.

”nope.” your footsteps quicken — but he keeps up, effortlessly. curse those abnormally long legs. ”you’re all just bootlickers. especially you.”

”oh?”

”don’t oh? me,” you snap, practically growling, ”like you weren’t seconds away from making out with the king back there. it’s all so fake.” the comment makes the corners of his lip quirk up, but you don’t turn around to see it. ”now that you’re alone with me, you’re already acting way less uptight, see?”

he hums. ”i figured it’d make you feel more at ease.”

”god, will you just cut it out?” a hiss breaks out of your throat, sharp and exasperated. tired, drained. you just want to go back to sleep. ”quit acting like you care about what i think. you’ll do whatever the king asks of you — that’s all you really care about.”

suguru stays silent, this time. matching your steps, observing you silently, out of the corner of his eye. the frown on your lips, the crease between your brows. etching them into his memory. you’re pissed, that much he can tell. and you definitely, definitely don’t like him. 

(”you’re a bad actor.”)

the knight comes to a standstill. parting his lips, enough for his voice to flow through, silken sheets and molten honey. a raspy tilt he tries his best to hide.

but his words carry a sincerity he could never fake. 

”from now on, i serve you.”

when the clicking of his shoes against cold marble flooring fades away, you halt. turning around, hesitantly, quirking a questioning brow. rain beats on beyond the window to your left, flicking against the glass, droplets clinging to the translucent surface. marigold petals kiss the windows in a flurry of cream and orange, fluttering about with the harsh bites of the wind, carried from the castle’s orchard. the endless hallway you find yourselves in smells of rainwater and spring.

suguru looks steadfast, where he’s standing, immovable. a little like a pillar of salt. when he speaks it sounds like he’s reciting a scripture.

”i’m loyal to the king. i have to follow his orders.” 

there’s something about his words that you can’t quite pinpoint. is it guilt or pride? ”but i am at your service. certain things are set in stone, but not others. i’ll let you decide how this goes.”

the hallway goes silent. he smiles, again, smaller this time. somehow more genuine.

”from now on, i’m your knight.” the pitter patter of rain mashes with the steady beating of a clock; rhythmic, soothing, a lullaby of rust and time. ”that’s all. i won’t be anything else.”

you stare. lips pursed, awaiting a clarification, but it doesn’t come. he’s giving you time to respond.

(he’s your knight, now. indefinitely yours.)

an inhale. the clock hands of your heart begin to move. ”in that case,” you exhale, lips curling up into a taunting smile. pleased with yourself. ”i promise to be the most insufferable lord a knight has ever had. i won’t make your job easy for you.”

and suguru only chuckles. raspy, like the bark of a tree, claw marks on the ground. ”good,” he grins, eyes rich with mirth, golden pears hanging off the branches. ”i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

he looks sincere. sounds sincere. all you do is blink, a sense of frustration nibbling at your heart, but the knight before you doesn’t falter. he only offers his arm to you, once more; a silent step towards reconciliation.

you watch him, silently. 

then you’re turning on your heel, swiftly, a low grumble at the base of your throat. ignoring him and his offer, walking towards your room with irritated steps that fade as you turn the corner.

behind you, suguru’s smile only grows.

”good morning, your highness.”

blinking sleepily, still regaining your ability to form coherent thoughts, all you can do is stare. studying the figure above you, towering over your half-asleep form, the deadpan expression on your face.

black hair, and amber eyes. a disgustingly charming smile. 

the gears of your mind finally click into place.

a whine flows from your lips, meek and disapproving, and you roll over to your side. pulling the covers over your head, as if to protect you from the existence of your newly hired knight. so it wasn’t just a bad dream.

but he doesn’t fade away, like an apparition. he stays right by your bed, crouching down next to it. you feel the weight of the mattress shift when he rests his elbow on the cushion. ”still too early?” he asks, soft enough not to grate your sensitive ears. ”i was told you usually get up around this time…”

a muffled groan. ”leave.”

”i’m afraid i can’t,” he hums, but you don’t sense much remorse. ”i’m not supposed to let you out of my sight for more than brief intervals at a time… that’s one thing i can’t compromise on.”

”i don’t care,” you whine, petulant. tightening your grip on the blanket surrounding you, desperate to savour the leftovers of your fuzzy dreams. ”’m not getting up…”

a click of his tongue. quiet, contemplative. until he decides on a course of action.

”would you like me to bring you breakfast, then?”

…

slowly, your eyes flicker open, consciousness beginning to stir. the tasty temptation rouses you from your half-slumber, ever so slightly; because he sounds sincere. he sounds like he really will bring you breakfast, if you just give him the order. 

it’s tempting. dangerously so. 

(how long has it been since one of the maids actually bothered to serve you breakfast?)

”… whatever,” you croak, finally. weighing the value of your own response — putting effort into not sounding too excited. (but you are.) ”sure. do what you want, just let me sleep.”

a relieved little breath slips from suguru’s lips, as he watches the lump under the blanket stir. ”alright,” he breathes. ”what would you like, my lord?”

(suddenly, you get an idea.)

a smug grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief on your mind. ”figure it out yourself,” you chirp, awfully pleased with yourself. 

silence. 

then, you hear him hum — rising to his feet with a quiet groan. ”understood,” he quips. ”i’ll be back as soon as possible, your highness.”

when you hear the creaking of the door, as he steps over the threshold, you barely restrain the urge to kick your legs in victory. now he’s sure to get you the wrong breakfast; and then you can be as difficult as you please, demanding something else, over and over. an ungrateful, spoiled little brat. that’ll definitely make him quit. 

— sadly, it seems you were underestimating him. just a tiny, tiny bit.

before you, on a silver tray, lays a wide variety of breakfast foods. everything from syrupy pancakes and buttery croissants to neatly cut sandwiches and porridge, slices of fruit and fresh lemonade, coffee with cream and sugar, tiny jars of marmalade and jam. sparkling, glittering, begging to be devoured. handmade, you can tell, meticulously crafted by someone who knows what they’re doing. with a gulp, you attempt not to openly salivate — you had no clue the kitchen workers were this talented. 

for just a moment, you’re entirely speechless. he really went ahead and got you some of everything.

stumbling for the right words, any words, the only thing that escapes your throat is a meek huff. meant to sound displeased, but coming out just a little awestruck. ”this is… way, way too much. are you insane?”

he only shrugs. a sweet smile on his lips, sharp jaw resting on the heel of his palm. ”well, you wouldn’t give me any specifics,” he reminds you, a bit too smug for your liking. ”just eat what you like. i’ll keep your preferences in mind.”

you want to protest, want to put up a fight. want to resist his charms, his little peace offering.

but your stomach growls, suddenly. loud enough that you’re sure he hears it, but you don’t turn around to see any silent laughter — just picking up the fork, embarrassed, eager to just get rid of the ache in your gut. eager to get a taste of the delicacies in front of you. with hesitance, you cut into one of the fluffy pancakes, slathered with syrup, trying to ignore his expectant gaze. biting into it with your eyes closed.

when the sweet taste curls around your tongue, you physically feel yourself perk up. letting your eyes flutter open, your eyebrows raised, a sweetness that makes you sit up straighter. it practically melts in your mouth, honeyed and buttery, and it takes all your willpower to withhold a blissed out little sigh. 

it must be evident, on your features. because suguru sounds amused when he asks; ”good?”

”... better than usual, i guess.”

despite your half-assed attempt at hiding how pleased you are, his ever-present smile extends. ”oh, really?” he leans back in his chair, right next to the bed. exhaling in relief. ”i’m glad. i was worried my cooking wouldn’t be to your tastes.”

…

you pale.

silently, both awestruck and horrified, you look up to meet his teasing gaze. ”wait. you…” a pause. silent, palpable, dreading his answer. ”… made this?” 

”yes.”

another pause. 

”… like. all of it?”

”mhm.”

your gaze falls down to seek solace in your lap. avoiding his own, biting down on your lip, not quite enough to sting. fuck — you accidentally complimented his handmade breakfast. not off to a great start.

wallowing in your silent loss, you simply dig in; desperate to savour it, despite the lingering taste of failure on your tongue. once you’ve sipped the last of your coffee, foamy and rich, the knight to your right speaks up.

”so, your highness,” he begins. tactful, careful. clearing his throat. ”now that you’ve woken up a bit… and, forgive me if i’m overstepping, but —” he searches for your guarded gaze, playing with the beginnings of a smile. ”i was thinking it’d be good for us to get to know each other better.”

”ugh.”

a chuckle — seriously, does nothing offend this man? — flits past his lips. ”oh, don’t be like that, your highness. don’t you think it —”

”cut it out.” you shoot him a glare, voice set to a shivering tilt. ”stop acting like some perfect servant. it’s so obvious you’re playing it up.” a tiny huff, as you pop an apple slice into your mouth. ”makes me sick.”

”… right. you called my acting bad, before.”

”it is,” you nod, a mocking imitation on your tongue. eyes fluttering shut as you bring a hand to your chest. ”oooh, look at me, i’m so humble and loyal! why, of course i don’t mind being summoned with no prior notice! would you like me to lick your shoes, my sweet king?”

and, honestly, you expect him to get at least a little bit angry. the last guy certainly was.

but suguru laughs, suddenly, from the bottom of his gut — a genuine sound. sunshine spilling from his lips, amusement laced together with the octaves. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, like the leaves of a golden ginkgo tree. ”okay, okay,” he puts his hands up, as if readying for a smooth surrender. still amused. ”i’ll try to be more… unguarded, then. would that satisfy you?”

you give him a look. 

he returns it with a smile. ”i’ll take that as a yes,” is all he croons, reaching a hand out. it hangs still in the air, waiting patiently for a response. a familiar sight.

you blink. looking at it, silently, as if trying to solve a puzzle in the pattern of his fingertips. 

then you sigh. ”for the last time, i’m not letting you kiss my hand, you —”

”a handshake,” he cuts you off. soft, a tilt of his head; awfully charming. reassuring you. ”no kissing involved.”

a handshake.

(come to think of it, you don’t think anyone’s ever tried to shake your hand before. it’s something you see other people do; maids, knights, butlers. people on equal ground with each other.)

after a moment of silence, you avert your gaze. there’s a slight, slight flush to your cheeks, one you hope stays hidden from his keen eyes. you grumble, intent on not appeasing him. ”… i’m not shaking your hand, either.”

suguru quirks a brow, smile yet to fall, waiting a few moments more until he gives in. ”you are difficult,” he chuckles, and it sounds almost pleased. ”kento was right.”

kento? now, why does that sound familiar…? 

”— but that’s okay. i look forward to getting to know you better, either way.” his hand retreats to his lap, pliant. ”eventually.”

”that’s not happening.”

”oh?” you swear that smile of his grows, just a little. a man who enjoys a good challenge. humming, closing his eyes for a brief second, switching tactics as if shifting gears. ��then, tell me — is there anything you’d like to know about me?”

hell no, is what you want to say. and you almost, almost do. eager to move one step ahead of him, stubborn in your desire to scare him off.

but then you remember the tale.

so you still, ever so slightly, and suguru leans forward. by a hair, noticing your expression, maybe, the curiosity simmering in your veins. seeping out, little by little, and even though you know you shouldn’t — you just can’t resist the temptation to ask…

”… is it true?”

he tilts his head.

”the … you know.” you move your hands, a bit, as if hoping they’ll say the words for you. they don’t. ”your sword. did you really…” a pause, as your eager gaze trails down to his hip, the scabbard attached to his belt. and then a gulp. 

”… pull it out of a stone?”

a series of silent blinks. then suguru chuckles — dripping with fresh amusement, a glimmer of teeth behind his lips. ”oh, so you’ve heard?”

and, like a pair of shooting stars, your eyes flicker over to meet his. almost gleaming with newfound excitement, a little erratic. ”is — is it true?”

”it’s an old folktale,” he’s quick to intercept. ”gets said about basically every great knight… or, what the public deems as good, anyhow.”

(ah. the humble facade slipped away.)

in a matter of seconds, you seem to deflate, slumping back until your spine meets the headboard. sulking silently. ”so you didn't pull your sword out of a rock?” you huff, mood souring again, a lemony flavour in your veins. ”lame.”

”stone,” he corrects, unperturbed. ”and i'm afraid not.” he gives you another one of his placating smiles, barely concealed amusement swimming in his amber eyes. ”i pulled mine from an oak tree.”

…

”wait, really?”

the gleam in your eyes is back. suguru almost, almost feels bad.

”depends,” he quips, shooting you a lazy grin. ”how gullible are you, my lord?”

(... oh. he was teasing you.)

an embarrassed heat crawls up your neck, rooting itself into the column of your throat, and all you can do to distract him from it is to scoff. sharply, as if hoping just the sound will be enough to cut into his smooth skin. ”whatever.”

suguru continues to smile, crows’ feet by his eyes, something deliberate in his silent stare. so you stumble for something, anything to say.

”also, can you quit the my lord stuff?” you settle on, taking a shallow sip of the lemonade. sour and sweet, nice and chilled on your tongue. ”it’s creepy.”

he blinks. a flutter of his dark lashes, fingers tapping at his bended knee. he looks contemplative, for a moment. ”does it make you uncomfortable?” he asks, tilting his head. ”i can stick to my liege, if that’s better. just say the word.” 

”god, you’re so annoying,” you groan, licking the lemony residue off your lips. ”just use my name.”

suddenly, suguru stills. fingertips frozen, for a moment, no longer tapping at his thigh. he traps his bottom lip between his teeth, a hesitant hum crawling up the confines of his throat. 

”that….” he trails off, thumb absentmindedly smoothing over the leather of his scabbard. ”seems a little much.”

when you turn to look at him, he seems a little put off. uncomfortable, maybe — or just caught off guard? it’s hard to get a read on him. for someone who smiles so often, his emotions don’t appear very bright.

a pang of something grasps onto your clockwork heart, and a frown pulls at your bottom lip. frustration gnawing at your veins. ”you’re here to service me, aren’t you?” you ask, with a shallow huff. ”just do as i say.”

”well, i still have my boundaries.” suguru leans back, crossing his legs, gazing at you with slightly lidded eyes. ”and, on paper — i’m only here to protect you. the servicing is my own choice.” 

a very, very judgemental look. he returns it with a tug of his lips. 

”… you really do like being ordered around, don’t you?”

suguru shrugs. playful. ”makes me feel needed,” he purrs, watching you wolf down the breakfast he made.

once you’ve had your fill, he’s quick to gather the silver tray in his steady arms, and you do your very best to hold back from thanking him for the meal. it aches a little, but you can’t give in — you don’t have a choice. you can’t allow yourself to be anything other than the most ungrateful, annoying royal in the kingdom.

anything to snap his clockwork heart in half.

— a week passes with no particular developments. you try your damndest to bother him, but suguru is stubborn. stubborn enough that you’re starting to doubt he’ll ever leave you alone, no matter how much you ignore him, or hiss at him, or whine at him to make you an annoyingly specific assortment of breakfast foods.

he never stops smiling, no matter how bothersome you’re being. the tick-tock of his patience remains unbroken. 

(so for now, you figure you’ll just have to adjust.)

a sense of contentment simmers in the open air, when suguru knocks at your door, waiting for a groan and a grouchy come in. it takes you a few moments longer to respond than what he’s used to, and he notes that you sound a little less irritated when you do.

as he steps over the threshold, bowing his head instinctevely, he’s met with the sight of you fully immersed. holding a paintbrush between your fingers, lifting it, movements delicate, self-assured. like it comes to you without thinking. you’re seated right by the window, enough for the would-be daylight to flicker in. as it stands, the weather is still sour. 

he walks up to you, as always, never more than a few steps away.

and, for a moment, all he does is watch you. silently, as you dip your brush in smeary cobalt paint, a splatter of colour on the white canvas. melting together with the indigo and obsidian. there’s a certain rhythm to it, a kind of dance between you and your mind and the painting in front of you — not even close to being finished. a dip of your brush blooms into a jaw, a flick of your wrist into a set of fangs. cobalt cream and silvery edges, an imitation of what you saw in your sleep. murky, blurry, a dream-like clearing in the woods. 

as you work, a sense of relaxation smooths along your sinuses. coaxing you into breathing out, into letting your clenched jaw rest for a while. turning all your irritation into brushstrokes. into a hungry, hungry wolf. 

finally, your knight opts to break the silence.

”you’re quite talented.” 

it’s an earnest comment. filled with respect, not the idle flattery you’re so used to. and despite yourself, you can’t help but grin — glowing a little beneath the praise. prideful, smug, almost giddy. he watches intently as your expression shifts, as those fleeting flickers of joy dance along the contours of your cheekbones. as you lap up his praise like the chamomile tea he served you this morning.

suguru smiles. you have a cute side, he thinks. for no more than a mere moment, he finally feels as if he’s getting somewhere; getting closer to breaking that thorny, thorny shell of yours. closer to meeting the little lamb beneath the wolf’s hide.

but your mind quickly catches up to your body, realizing that your lips are curled up into a pleased smile, and you clench your jaw again. mindful not to let him see it. painting makes you far too careless, too unguarded; you have to be mean.

stuck in a bout of frustration, you put a little too much force into the motion of your fingers, a small slip of the hand. but that’s all it takes. suddenly, the smooth, calm sea of fur on the canvas turns violent, a little more unruly, and you withhold a wince. doing your best to mend the damage. flick, flick, across the canvas, as if to appease the hungry wolf. 

from behind you, a tiny exhale. laced with a kind of stifled amusement, one that makes you snap your jaw in his direction. brows knitted in anger.

”what?”

suguru clears his throat. ”nothing, my liege,” he hides a smile behind his knuckle. eyes gliding across the murky smear of fangs and fur, interest piqued. ”i’m just curious… why a wolf?”

a huff. briefly, you consider ignoring him, but….

(something in his tone convinces you not to.)

”… i saw one,” you admit, absently, staring at the blue and gray of the canvas. flick, flick. violet, navy, a little more depth. ”in my dream.”

silence. your knight doesn’t respond. surely, he must think you childish; everyone else does. why would he be the exception? why did you tell him anything at all? 

a sense of regret mixes with the paint. the weight of a brush in your hand truly does make you careless, doesn’t it?

”… huh.”

a clenching of teeth. you muster the will to turn your head, just to give him a questioning look, a silent aggression. biting before he can. but he’s not looking at you; he’s looking at the painting, the wolf that isn’t quite a wolf yet, just blue and gray on paper. a blur of messy motions.

then he shakes his head. ”no, nothing.” 

you quirk a brow. 

but you don’t say anything. falling silent, falling back into the rhythm of it all, painting until you grow bored of it. the wolf looks at you both, still thoroughly unfinished, jaw half-painted, no trees or knights to keep it company. solitary, blurry; baring its fangs towards no one at all. a sorry spectacle of teeth.

— a couple days later, as you’re walking through the castle with suguru in tow, still adamantly refusing to curl your fingers around his bicep, a loud crash breaks you out of your hushed banter.

the two of you share a look. it came from farther away, just beyond the next turn, a certain hallway decorated with delicate vases. one the castle maids desperately tried to keep you from, when you were younger, worried about your habit of jumping around while pretending to be some sort of feral animal. worried, of course, about the safety of the porcelain rather than the safety of the child.

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the source of the sound. and, lo and behold, what waits beyond the turn ahead is a crying boy and a broken vase.

fat tears cascade down his reddened cheeks, silent fear knit into the way his face is scrunched up. he can’t be older than six or seven; one of the maid’s children, you assume, the kind that doesn’t have the luxury of making mistakes. he looks panicked, down on his knees, holding a large piece of porcelain, painted flowers etched into the front.

what a mess.

when the clicking of your shoes reaches his little ears, he looks up at you with wide, shameful eyes. still sitting amongst the littered shards, the spilt water and irises soon to wilt. it reminds you of something, a memory you don’t quite want to recall; a different child, tiny and alone. taught to feel shame at the moment of their birth. 

it makes your pace falter, a bit, but suguru moves without hesitation. long, careful strides, one foot after the other. 

he crouches down in front of the boy, gentle as he takes the shattered piece of porcelain from his tiny palm. so he doesn’t hurt himself. ”hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, speaking even softer than usual, his voice like a flurry of feathers and jasmine petals. ”are you hurt?”

he’s patient. smiling comfortingly, considerate, grounding, a blanket of wool like the one forming on the border of the horizon. but the child continues to sniffle and hiccup, curling into a ball as if readying for a strike. like an abandoned puppy.

you sigh.

after a moment’s hesitation, you’re stepping forward, figure slipping from the shadows and coming into view. joining the miserable pair, the jagged shards on the marble floor. 

there’s a cold, cold look in your eyes when the boy raises his head to meet them.

a flick of your wrist; you wave your hand once, then twice. ”shoo. hurry up.” 

he blinks. tears clumping his lashes together, cheeks flushed from the panic of it all. he stammers when he parts his lips. ”b… but —”

”didn’t you hear me?” comes a scoff, harsh, cutting through the air. right through the fear and panic. ”that was an order. just run back to your mommy already.” you cross your arms, shaking your head in disapproval. mimicking the king, though you think it’s lost on your spectators. ”all that crying is making my head hurt, geez.”

a series of hesitant blinks. crumbling beneath your commanding gaze, the child stumbles to his feet, sparing suguru one last unsure little glance before scurrying off. the sigh that slips from your lips is quiet, barely audible, tinged with relief. 

when you look down to the floor, you find that suguru is already looking at you; a furrow to his brows. angry, for once. just a tiny, tiny flicker of distaste. you reward him with a cold smile. 

(so this is how you get under this skin. cruelty, aimed not towards him, but towards the defenseless. 

what a picture-perfect, self-destructive little knight.)

just as the child turns the corner ahead, you hear the echo of a maid calling out from behind you. her voice is dripping with fatigue, exasperation, a flurry of sighs you’ve grown far too familiar with.

”your highness! what have you done now?”

there it is, you think; the curtain call you’ve been waiting for. with a swift turn of your heel, sheepish expression ready to go, your focus shifts onto one sole objective — act annoying.

”walked into a vase,” you chirp, proudly, just the slightest bit theatrical. gesturing dismissively towards the broken spectacle, as suguru raises himself from the floor. ”my bad. not my fault you make them so easy to break, though.”

she inches closer, with a disapproving stare, and you hear a tick-tock in your ear. sensing the limit of her patience. ”i’ll have you know these vases are expensive,” she clicks her tongue. ”do you truly think you can go around breaking whatever you please?”

”… well. i mean… i do kind of own this place, don’t i? or — i will.” you tilt your head, faux contemplation on your features, shifting into a spoiled smile. ”so — technically — i broke my own vase. no harm done!”

”… my lord —”

”quiet.” suguru stiffens, ever so slightly, following your sharp whisper. ”don’t fuck this up.”

he looks at you, silently. not saying another word.

(there’s a shame in his eyes that you don’t turn your head to see.)

it doesn’t take long for the maid to shoo you away, pinching her brow at your carefree laughter, bitter at the prospect of cleaning up your mess. she makes sure to give suguru a sweet smile, though, and doesn’t bother to hide the sympathy in it. sympathy for him, such a handsome, well-behaved knight, forced to service such a brat.

the smile he gives her in return is a stiff one. almost, almost cold. but he bows, and follows your retreating form, until you’re all alone together.

the walk is silent. maybe just a little heavy, as you try to ignore the stare burning into your skin, trying to swallow your own displeasure. it’s subtle, something you learned to internalize long ago, but it’s there; a slight sadness. you don’t enjoy getting yelled at.

a thick silence stretches on, before crumbling into dust. you aren’t sure how much time has passed when a certain velvety voice curls around your senses.

”your highness.”

he’s come to a standstill, again. you really should just ignore him and keep walking. but you still, anyway, following his cue, turning towards him with a look that says what now? — you aren’t sure what to expect. certainly not the sentence that ends up spilling from his lips, like a spring breeze through an opened window, tinged with something you fear may be close to fondness. 

(in your chest, your heartbeat tick-tocks.)

he smiles, gentle, with eyes that see right through you. and he speaks. 

”you’re actually kind, aren’t you?”

…

”… huh?”

he pays no mind to your stupefied expression. continuing, unperturbed, eyeing you with a look you distinctly dislike — as if he’s trying to glimpse into your mind. ”the vase,” he hums. ”you took the blame, even though you didn’t do it.”

a huff escapes you. face hardening, setting into firm lines. ”that wasn't intentional,” you grumble, defensive. ”i just wanted him to leave.” 

but suguru shakes his head. ”you could’ve left when the maid came. but you stayed, and lied, and got yelled at so he wouldn’t have to.” a second passes, silence thick with meaning. intentional on his part, you’re sure. ”is that not what you’d call kind?”

another moment gone, little tick-tocks of your heartbeat counting down. you part your lips, but no sound comes out, as you stumble for words to say. irritation stirring in your veins. or is it nervosity? you think your skin feels a little hot, suddenly. 

just what the hell is happening?

”i’m… i’m not — ” you bite down on your lip. harshly. stammering, voice cracking a bit, to your great dismay. ”… not kind. i hate all of them.”

”but you protect them,” he whispers, ”look after them.” his smile doesn’t waver, never ever, but you’ve never seen it look quite this knowing. and suddenly, he’s closing in on you, gazing at you with laughter in his eyes. 

you try to stand your ground, wanting nothing more than to flee, curl into yourself, scratch at him until he leaves. but your throat feels so dry, all of a sudden, a sensation that only deepens with the next words he breathes into life. 

”a little sweetheart who pretends to be all big and bad…” he eyes you up and down, a meaningful look, raven locks moving as he tilts his head. towering over you. ”is that what you are?”

nothing. no smart reply comes to you. all you can muster is a harsh glare, a low hiss crawling up your throat, like you’re preparing to lunge at him. it serves as a warning, but the amusement in his eyes doesn’t fluctuate. ”you…”

he chuckles. raspy, breathy, a shiver down your spine. ”your acting is even worse than mine.”

”shut up,” you snap, baring your teeth. it comes out almost like a growl, hot and heavy in your veins, and you don’t understand where all this emotion came from. strangling you, bubbling up within your bobbing throat. ”you don’t — understand me, okay?”

no one does. 

and that’s fine. you don’t want them to. 

(you just want him to stop looking you so fondly.)

”not yet,” he admits, eyes fluttering shut. a thoughtful hum on the tip of his tongue. ”… but i think i’m beginning to.” 

he’s looking at you, again, amber and honey and raven lashes, lapping up every hint of a tell in the way you shift from foot to foot. speaking like he knows you, like he’s known you all his life. ”you act difficult — scare everyone away… but deep down, you love them, don’t you?”

a scoff. desperate. ”no.”

”you want to loved,” he continues, not allowing you to flee. relentless in his pursuit of whatever he imagines must be hidden inside your soul, beneath all those layers of frost. ”understood. everyone does.”

”not me.”

”your highness.”

…

the knight continues to look at you, and you avoid his gaze like it could burn you into cinders — like it could turn you into dust. but he parts his lips, anyway, and speaks. so sincere it makes your chest hurt. words that echo through the endless hallways of the castle, against the surfaces of glass that line the walls. words that make your skin flush under the shadows of rain soon to fall.

he smiles, wide, teeth showing. and he speaks. 

”that was very, very kind of you.”

silence. so thick you wonder if you’re about to faint, or fall to the floor, or something equally embarrassing. a sentence so simple shouldn’t be making you feel this way, this weird. you don’t understand why it makes you feel anything, anything at all, and you don’t understand why your eyes suddenly feel a little glassy.

(someone saw through the act.)

”… whatever,” you squeeze out, at last, but it sounds a little meek. a tiny puff of air. turning around, sharply, blinking rapidly to shoo the tears away. ”i just didn’t want to hear that brat whining. it was hurting my ears.” 

suguru bites back a coo.

as he watches your back retreat, hurrying back to the comfort of your room, he’s almost certain that he’s making progress. that your walls are beginning to crumble, slowly but surely, bit by bit. the path before him clears — a thorny, foggy path through the woods, until a sunsplatter falls on the ground and tells him where to plant his feet. 

it’s not much, barely anything, but suguru’s always liked his hunts blindsighted. 

you turn a corner, and he follows suit. sparing a passing glance at the clouds on the boundary of the horizon, the sole ray of sunlight breaking through. and then he’s catching up to you with long strides.

(it’s his duty, yes, but he doesn’t think he’d mind it so much — getting to know his kind, misunderstood little lord.)

sadly, disappointingly, to your great shame — you begin to grow used to suguru’s presence in your life. constant, always close behind, always ready to be of service. as infuriatingly patient as ever. it’s a stretch, but you may have become just the slightest bit fond of it. 

maybe, possibly, you’ve even silently decided to stop trying to scare him away. stop acting so difficult with him, all the time.

or, well — sometimes.

”take me outside, please?” you whine, bottom lip jutting out into a deep pout, accompanied by a flutter of your lashes. 

the voice that spills from your lips is hopelessly meek, pleading, so sweet you’d get cavities if you didn’t know how fake it was. effortless, perfected, your one god-given talent; an irresistible pair of puppy dog eyes. 

suguru answers with a smile, tight-lipped. ”no.”

a beat.

”aw, come on,” you whine, barely resisting the urge to stomp your feet. frustration bubbles up inside your veins, trickling down to your wrist, nails digging into your palm. ”why not? you’re supposed to listen to my every command!”

”still no, sweetheart.”

a series of grumbles scratch at the base of your throat, but suguru pays them no mind. patient, patient, patient. he’s even kind enough to ignore the way you pointedly avoid his gaze after the term of endearment slips past his lips. ”sorry, but that part is non-negotiable. you know i don’t have a choice.”

you do know. but it still makes your mood sour, pulls a sigh from out of your lips. he moves closer, familiar silver tray in hand, dragging a chair to where you’re seated by the windowsill.

”i did bring you this, though,” he gestures towards a particular glass bowl, filled with red berries. they shine like rubies in the light. ”strawberries, like you asked for. wasn’t easy to get a hold of.”

he places the tray right next to you, smiling as he takes a seat. ”cheer up, hm? don’t be so grumpy.”

your pout remains, but you do settle down a bit. just the teeniest, tiniest bit. definitely not because he was kind enough to indulge your cravings.

”… thanks for breakfast.” 

suguru beams, and you avoid his gaze, like always. biting into one of the rubies, the soft murmur of thanks still burning your tongue, soothed by sweet nectar. he lets you flee, lets you continue on like nothing happened, like it isn’t obvious how much you’ve warmed up to his presence. 

”you’re welcome, my lord.”

…

(even after spending more than a month together, he still won’t call you by name. won’t even entertain the idea. why does that bother you so much?)

peacefully, your morning ritual continues. the same as always; you eat, while suguru watches, a sweet smile on his lips. the silence remains until he opts to break it.

today, he sounds a little hesitant.

”say, your highness…” he picks at a piece of lint on his cloak, absentminded. ”could i ask you for a favour?”

you almost drop your fork. gaze snapping up to meet his own, as a few silent seconds tick on by. tick-tock, tick-tock. then you clear your throat, regaining your composure. trying to sound nonchalant. 

”what is it?” you probe, cutting across the yolk on your fried egg. watching the orange seep out, trickling down, sinking into the crust of your toast. suguru hums. 

”a friend of mine — he’s also a knight…” he wrings his hands together, legs parted. tapping his heel on the floor. ”we’ve been sparring together for a while. once a week, at least. but ever since the king hired me, we haven’t been able to.”

you watch as his gaze flickers down to his lap, then up to you again. it’s smooth, charming, but you still think it seems a little out of place. he must not be used to asking for favours.

”i was wondering if you’d be willing to accompany me? just down to the training fields by the castle.” his fingers tap against his bended knee, slow and methodical, from pointer to pinkie. ”the king gave us permission to spar there, but i’m obviously not allowed to let you out of my sight…”

you bite back a huff. obviously. he waits for a response that doesn’t come.

”… so?”

you meet his gaze, expectant. hopeful, maybe. it’s a nice touch — matches with the amber of his eyes.

”would that be alright with you?” he inquires, again. you think he sounds just a tiny bit unsure of himself.

a moment passes. silently, you look down at your lap. folded hands, itching to do something. something fun, new, exciting. 

your tongue forms around a wish. it spills into the air like a shooting star, a meek little whisper. ”… i wanna swing a sword.”

suguru blinks. once, then twice. ”you…” he tastes the words on his tongue, turning the image of you around in his head. ”want to swing a sword?

you nod. glancing at him, coughing a little under your breath. summoning just a bit of audacity, eyes trailing towards the sword by his hip. longingly. ”… i’ll only watch you spar if you let me try it.” 

a brief pause. he studies you intently, a mystery he’s yet to solve.

then he chuckles, light and airy, full of mirth. a sound you’ve grown fond of. ”well, okay. that’s fair.” he rises to his feet, smiling down at you. ”thank you, my lord.”

you don’t respond. but your eyes glitter with excitement, as you dutifully finish your breakfast, wolfing it down. waiting patiently for him to head down to the kitchen with the tray, for him to change into his training gear. 

when he knocks at your door, he’s wearing a flimsy little blouse. almost see-through, if you squint your eyes enough, exposing his bare skin. you think you see a scar curling up from his chest, reaching for his shoulder, just below it by a hair. and you can see his biceps, the fat, the muscle, practically begging to be bitten.

(tantalizing.)

he’s speaking to you, saying something, but you tune him out. focused on trying to restrain your growing urges. when he reaches up to fix his hair, tied up into a bun, the muscle of his arm twitches.

and, suddenly, you can’t contain yourself. 

giving in to the salivating temptation, you grab hold of his bicep, sinking your teeth into it — gentle, but enough that he feels it, enough to leave a set of teeth marks soon to fade. gnawing at it like a dog with a bone.

suguru blinks. pupils wide, quirking a silent brow, quick to smooth over the surprise in his eyes. 

you don’t move. teeth planted against the fabric, the firm muscle beneath it, surprising even yourself; his arm just looked so biteable. you wonder if he’s put off. upset.

but, as always, he’s eerily placating. like nothing you say or do could rock the ship of his patience, an endless sea. smooth, airy laughter flits past his lips, giving way to an indulgent smile. he studies you with fascination, like you’re a creature he hasn’t encountered before.

ever so gently, he grabs hold of your jaw — and the warmth of his touch shocks you into letting it go slack. before you can say anything, he’s rolling up his sleeve. exposing the tender skin.

”go wild, your highness,” he grins, offering his arm up like a lamb to a hungry fox. a teasing mirth in his eyes, his voice coming out as a low purr. ”i don't mind a mark or two.”

to your horror — it flusters you terribly.

you cough. taking a step back, averting your gaze, suddenly disinterested. feigning indifference, anyhow; that was definitely a scar. and a cool one, too. you think you might even have caught a glimpse of a birthmark or two. 

”i’m… just keeping you on your toes,” you stumble for an excuse, still unable to look at him properly. missing the way he stifles a bout of laughter. ”for your training, y’know? gotta stay on your guard.”

”of course. i appreciate the help,” he quips, fond, as he gestures for you to take the lead. ”he’s waiting for us. are you ready?”

for a second, just a second, you consider grabbing his arm. letting him guide you. but the thought is fleeting, like a bundle of peach blossoms, brushed away by the sunshine seeping in through the window’s glass — illuminating the marble flooring. 

a mellow excitement simmers in your bones. 

you head down to the training grounds with a pep in your step, and your loyal knight follows suit. just behind, always, wearing a smile you can’t see.

”suguru!”

the man that greets you with cheerful fervour, seated cross-legged under a peach tree, isn’t quite what you expected him to be. 

when you heard knight, you imagined someone a bit more… intimidating. but this guy is far from imposing. a little shorter than suguru, brown locks stopping right around his ears, exposing his sunkissed skin. freckles scattered across his nose and cheekbones, a happy little grin curled right around his lips. 

he’s cute. a bit like a puppy. not very knightly, though.

”haibara,” suguru greets, a mellow warmth to his voice. the man in question shoots up from the ground, stumbling towards you both, excitement in his hazel eyes. suguru gestures towards you. ”this is the royal heir. the one who doesn’t like having their hand kissed.”

your head whips towards him, an angered flush to your cheeks — you’re almost sure that he’s smirking, giving you a teasing glance, but haibara’s exclamation prevents you from voicing any protests. 

”hi!” he beams, bowing deeply, so sudden that you jolt a bit. his head whips up instantly, brown locks stirred by the breeze, voice warm and smooth. like honeysuckle nectar. ”thank you so much for letting us spar, your highness! i’ve heard so much about you!”

”… um.” your gaze falls down to a pebble on the ground. unsure of how to act, murmuring under your breath. ”you — it’s… no need to thank me. i wanted to get some air, anyway.”

he continues to look at you, eyes shining with a pure kind of cheer. glittering, honeyed and sweet, too bright to look at directly. you hear suguru exhale amusedly to your left. he’s looking right at you when you glance towards him. 

his hand inches closer to his scabbard, fingertips trailing down the leather. ”should we get started?”

haibara brightens even further, if possible. ”oh, right!” he exclaims. ”you wanted to try swinging a sword, your highness? that’s so exciting! is this your first time?”

a blink. you aren’t really sure how to handle this guy; he’s a bit too sunny to be snarky to. like a fuzzy ball of sunshine given human form, bouncing on the balls of his feet, tail practically wagging behind him. all you can muster is a weak cough. ”uh, yeah.”

”well, you’re here to learn.” suguru speaks up. guiding you both towards the center of the field, hand still at the sword on his hip. ”let me show you.”

in one smooth motion, he’s pulling it out of its sheath, a stripe of silver absorbing the rays of the sun. glimmering, slicing the blue sky in half. 

you’re a little awestruck.

and then he’s facing you. leaning forward, with a familiar tilt of his head, offering the blade with a smile. ”do you want to try swinging it around a bit?”

barely containing your excitement, you nod. making grabby hands at it.

that makes him chuckle. he makes no move to stop you when your fingers curl around the hilt, only parting his lips for a quick warning, a split second too late. you take it into your arms. ”careful, it’s a bit —”

— the sword clatters to the ground with a thud.

silence.

haibara breaks out into laughter, sudden, fond and warm, but enough to have your cheeks burning. fresh with embarrassment, humiliation, before you even hear the breathy chuckle that slips from your knight’s lips.

”… i was gonna say it’s a bit heavy,” he hums, closed knuckle in front of his lips and obscuring his smile. ”i’m sorry, my lord. do you —”

”whatever.” a hiss escapes your throat, and suguru winces. he knows where this is going; knows a bundle of thorns just erupted from the stalk of your spine, knows you're about to get defensive. ”like i’d ever want to touch your dusty sword. get — get real.”

he tries again. patient, patient. the familiar tick-tock of his never-ending kindness. ”hey, we aren’t making fun of you,” he soothes, hoping it’ll make your edges soften. like scratching a feral dog behind its ear. ”it’s understandable. you weren’t expecting it. i’ll let you try again, hm?”

a tiny pause. 

(you’re being childish, again.)

brows furrowed, hanging your head, you kick at a pebble on the ground. having collected yourself a bit. ”… maybe next time,” you finally speak, still grumbling. after you’ve spent some time lifting weights in your room.

suguru tilts his head. speaking softly. ”you sure?”

”yeah.” taking a step back, you raise your head to meet his gaze. ”i’ll just watch you. it’s fine.”

”… okay,” he exhales. leaning forward to pick up his sword from the ground. ”i can spar with you next time, if you want. you’ll be a pro in no time.”

he gives you another sweet smile, bangs fluttering with the breeze; painted in cerulean sunshine. he’s so gorgeous it makes you angry.

a sharp huff. ”don’t patronize me,” is all you can mutter, meeting the eyes of the knight by his side. standing up straighter. ”haibara,” you call. ”knock him around a bit for me, okay?”

from the corner of your eye, suguru pouts.

but the puppy-knight only grins, as bright as the sun in the sky. ”you got it, your highness!” he salutes, cheeks flushing with giddy excitement. 

as you sit on the benches a little farther away, dragonflies buzz in the air. fleeting glimmers of chartreuse and cerulean, chirping happily, keeping you company as you watch the knights spar. the clangs of their blades, the elegance in the way suguru moves. a violent little waltz. he’s sweating, just a bit, but you can see it, droplets glittering in the sun. he looks like he’s having fun. 

he looks like himself. like he isn’t holding back, isn’t acting obedient or well-mannered for the sake of pleasing his superiors. like this, here and now, he looks wild, free, a dog that turns into a wolf under the glow of the sun. 

for a second, your eyes meet — just as he narrowly avoids a slash. 

and he smirks, ever so slightly, suddenly gaining a little more momentum. flashing a brief grin, sunlight reflecting off his white teeth. you huff. heat crawling up your neck. 

show off.

”excuse me, your highness?”

the sudden voice snaps you out of your stupor. mesmerized, by the spectacle before you, the glimmer of their blades and the sight of your knight’s smile. it’s an unfamiliar voice, close, close enough that your head turns to meet the stranger’s ugly grin — inching closer still.

(uh oh.)

— just up ahead, lost in their own worlds, are two knights; huffing and smirking and narrowly dodging each other’s strikes. suguru takes the lead, as always, guiding haibara into improving his swordsmanship. but they both learn from it. and it’s fun, lighthearted, a respite from their more gruesome duties. 

it’s helped suguru more times than he can count; those tiny flickers of normalcy, in a wholly unpredictable profession. a life of bowing and bowing and killing what needs to be killed.

slash, slash, and then two steps back. the same old dance. haibara’s starting to lose momentum, he notices, adam’s apple bobbing with his heavy breaths.

so suguru stills. ”alright, that’s enough for now,” he calls, stretching idly. craning his head, looking around him absently. he wonders if you’re still watching. ”i think i see what the problem is.”

haibara perks up, obeying without a word, wiping the sweat off his forehead and walking towards his friend with a sunny smile. ”okay, great!”

but suguru isn’t looking at him, anymore. 

he’s looking towards the benches, where his little lord is seated, speaking to an unfamiliar man. one who currently has his hand on their forearm, caressing it. you look guarded, irritated, a little like you’re about to bare your teeth. trying to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. and suguru recognizes that look — the one that means you’re about to start biting and hissing, inching your claws into whatever’s within reach.

(not to injure, but to ground yourself, he’s learned. like how you clutch onto the fabric of your clothing when you’re nervous, sink your nails into your palm. not to injure, but to feel safe.)

in the blink of an eye, he’s making his way towards you. beckoned by his duty, his natural instinct, a protective itch that curls around his ribcage and crawls up his throat. large strides, much swifter than usual. he moves without thinking, and he’s there before he has the time to form a coherent thought.

with as much gentleness as he can possibly muster, he grabs hold of the stranger’s arm. smiling, tight-lipped, cold. ”excuse me, sir,” he greets, ”i need to borrow them for a moment.”

the man meets his gaze with a sour look. bitter, ugly, oddly possessive — like he thinks he owns the arm he’s holding. it makes suguru want to teach him a lesson, show off his sword, but he resists the temptation in a way you never could. his expression is a warning, though, enough to scare most rowdy drunkards and snobby royals away.

and it works. the stranger looks to you, briefly, before finally letting go of your poor arm. something rigid in suguru’s jaw finally relaxes. ”who are you?” comes a question, as the man turns to face him with a look full of contempt. ”their knight?”

before suguru can say anything, you’ve hopped off the bench. clinging to him, with a firm nod; your arms around his bicep. ”yeah. he is.”

(suguru fails to stifle a smug smile.)

with a string of bitter mumbles and a silent frustration, the man scurries away. hesitant, only after being met with another warning glance from the knight in front of him. intimidating, far less subtle, towering above him like a predator over their prey.

as soon as he’s out of sight, your knight turns to you, scanning your face for signs of discomfort. loyal, attentive. ”are you okay?” he asks, a silent shame in his voice. if only he had noticed sooner. ”did he do anything to you?”

you shake your head. ”it’s fine. probably one of the king’s friends — stops by every now and then.” a sigh, a little fatigued, following your explanation. ”they’re mostly harmless. just creepy and touchy.”

”that doesn’t sound very harmless…” suguru lets you pull away, quick to hide the disappointment that flashes in his eyes as you do, waving haibara off with a silent gesture of give us a minute. ”don’t worry. i’ll keep an eye out, from now on.”

still a little guarded, you nod. letting suguru guide you by the small of your back, taking a seat on the solid bench once more. together, this time. 

”there are a lot of those types around the town square,” he exhales, weary, stretching out his limbs before leaning forward. elbows resting on his bended knees. ”they’re a pain to deal with. i’m sorry you have to.”

”are there?” you ask, tone laced with curiosity. ”in the town?” 

”well, i’m sure you’ve heard. that place is a bit of a mess, these days…” a click of his tongue. ”more work for the knights.”

a dragonfly settles on the bridge of his nose. suguru blinks, smiling gently, until it flutters away with a raspy squeak. fading away, melting into the blue paint of the sky. you bite down on your lip. 

”… i haven’t.”

he turns to look at you. raising a brow.

”i haven’t heard about it at all. the king told you, right?” you meet his eye with a rueful smile, before leaning back, nose turned up towards the sky. for a second, you think the air smells a bit of rain. ”i’m not allowed to go out into town.”

your knight falls silent.

so you continue. grinning, with no humour to it. maybe a bit eager to overshare, to break the silent rules you’ve been given. the secret tastes like honey on your tongue. ”i’m a bastard child. he probably told you that, too.” you wouldn’t be surprised. ”thinks it's optimal for everyone involved if i just stay cooped up in the castle.” 

closing your eyes, your voice drips with something close to longing. barely above a whisper. ”i haven't been to the town in a couple of years, now.”

…

he only hums. ”i see.”

(there’s sympathy, in his amber eyes, but you don’t turn around to see it. you don’t turn to look at him until he’s finished sparring, and haibara’s about to leave. 

you wonder if he’ll meet your gaze the same way as before.) 

— that evening, suguru knocks at your door right as you're about to fall asleep. three rapid knocks, the same as always, knuckle against wood. rousing you from your rest.

when you open it, he’s holding something out towards you.

”here,” he says, voice set to a mellow tilt. upon closer inspection, he’s holding a bottle. transparent, see-through, stuffed to the brim with sea glass. smooth little colourful pebbles, green and blue and pink and orange, like frozen little camellias. ”for you, my lord.”

blinking sluggishly, you take it into your arms; holding it up in front of your eyes. when the light of the moon flitting in through the curtains hits it just right, it blossoms with colour, sparkling with every shade you’ve ever seen. shining like a heap of jewels, in your hands, like something out of a picture-book. magical.

it’s mesmerizing. 

”i asked haibara to get it from the town,” he explains, drinking in your expression of awe. ”this one lady — she collects them herself. i see her by the beach nearly every time i go there.”

when you look up, his smile is serene. peaceful, if just a little bit tired. but he looks pleased, lips curling around silky syllables. ”i thought of you.”

it’s odd, you think. you aren’t a stranger to gifts; you get most of what you desire if you just say the word, an easy way for the king to keep you compliant. as if to make up for the plethora of experiences you’ve missed out on since your birth. and you’ve had more than a couple suitors, men and women, eager to gain your favour. 

but this — this particular gift…

…

”it’s pretty,” you murmur, finally, unable to voice even a sliver of the emotions clogging up your chest. shying away from his gaze, feeling your heart pulse against your ribcage. ”… i guess.”

suguru just smiles. always, always, always. no matter what you do. ”i’ll get you something else next time,” he promises, ready to go back to standing guard outside the castle. ”get some sleep, okay? be good.”

and you can’t bring yourself to protest. not even a tiny huff of don’t tell me what to do. you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod, soft and pliant, still gazing at the bottle of sea glass in your hands. like you might turn into one of those transparent pebbles, if you wish for it enough.

that night, you dream of waves crashing against sand, the taste of seafoam on your tongue. every colour in the world. a newfound, reawakened wish — a wish to see more of it.

”are you trying to sneak out again?”

owlishly, all you can do is blink. propped up on the windowsill, immersed in the process of tying pillowcases and bedsheets together to form a rope. caught in the act — by none other than suguru, standing by the threshold, hand on his hip, watching you with silent disapproval. you didn’t think he’d come check on you this late.

a gulp. ”… no?”

and he sighs. walking towards you, brows furrowed, running a hand through his raven locks. you can tell he’s trying to be a little more sympathetic, this time, but it only makes the bitter taste on your tongue thicken. 

”look — i know it’s not fair to you, but the king and queen specifically ordered me —”

”i get it,” you cut him off, with a hiss, a little harsher than you meant to. you soften your voice before continuing. "i know. okay? i know.”

resigned, but frustrated, you clench the silken material of the bedsheets. glaring at them like it’s somehow their fault that the queen couldn’t bear an heir, that your father has a knack for sleeping around. like it’s their fault that he’s so ashamed of your existence that he doesn’t want you integrating into society on anything other than his own terms, until he’s dead and gone and doesn’t have to take accountability anymore. 

like it’s their fault that it’ll always be like this, forever, that it’s better not to hope for more.

(why can’t you just accept that?)

the knight before you exhales. troubled, watching your nails dig into the fabric, watching the way you bite down on your lip and rapidly blink. all signs of your frustration, your sadness, that you always try so hard to hide. 

”hey. how about this?” he tries to get your attention, voice soothing enough to coax you into raising your gaze. ”i’ll tell you a story instead.”

he stifles a chuckle, at the dubious look you send his way, teetering on the edge of a glare. slithering towards you. ”i’ve seen a lot of places. i can tell you about them, if you’d like.” he takes a seat right next to you, on the windowsill, a slice of the moon in bare view. ”what do you want to know?”

you’re silent, for a second. gnawing at your bottom lip, in contemplation, the tiniest bit of nervosity. like you aren’t quite sure if you’re allowed to speak your wishes aloud.

”… the woods.”

suguru blinks. a little caught off guard. 

his silence makes you want to bare your fangs, a bit. misinterpreting it as judgement. your voice comes out cold. ”what?”

but he’s quick to smooth over his features with a smile, as always, cocking his head amusedly. ”sorry — i was expecting you to say the sea, or something,” he stifles a chuckle. “it's the woods that you're so curious about?”

you pout. ”… you can see them from here.”

his head turns towards the window’s glass, squinting his eyes to see the sea of dark green in the distance, a cluster of thick trees. he hums. ”yeah, you can. well… that particular spot isn’t too bad. not many bandits or beasts.” your gaze stays glued onto his lips, every word that spills from them. ”there are wolves, though. this side of the kingdom is crawling with them.”

”they sell their fur,” you state.

(that’s one thing you do know. you spent more of your childhood around wolf pelts than your own parents. they might as well be your legal guardians.)

suguru nods. ”they do. it's a big portion of the kingdom’s exports… general market, as well.”

a frown tugs at your lips. you think of your fluffy childhood guardians, unable to howl or even make a sound; hunters turned decorations.

”isn’t that… kinda fucked up?”

he smiles, revealing no emotion. ”do you think it is?”

you only shrug. ”i’m not surprised that they eat us.” you think of all the stories you’ve heard, the fairy tales you grew up with. ”… if i was a wolf, i’d hate humans too.”

”would you, now?” familiar amusement, seeping from his tongue, soft crows’ feet by his cedar eyes. ”good thing you aren’t a wolf, then. we’re lucky.”

”mhm. you’d be my first target.”

that makes him chuckle, a little deeper this time, and you drink in the glimpse you get of his teeth, the fondness that dances across his face when he looks at you. 

a sudden urge overtakes you. 

”… i wanna know about something else.”

”oh?” he tilts his head, soft locks framing his kind eyes. ”and what would that be, my dear?”

”you.”

… 

for a moment, the mask falls. a silent, subtle kind of surprise, something in the way the tips of his fingers twitch that tells you he’s caught off guard. it coaxes you into continuing, following through with your question. swallowing the embarrassment. ”i wanna know more about you. how you became a knight, and… stuff.”

suguru looks at you with a strange glint in his eyes. undecipherable, unspoken, just watching as moonrays glide across your soft skin. ruffling your hair. 

a hum buzzes in his throat. he scratches at the back of his neck, resisting the urge to dodge your question. clicking his tongue. ”… well.”

anticipation blooms in your eyes, and you cross your legs, waiting patiently to hear him speak. he can’t deny you, when you look at him like that — so suguru simply exhales. a breath of indulgence. 

”it’s not a very interesting story,” he leads, closing his eyes in remembrance. ”they scouted me when i was pretty young…. a bit of a troublemaker, honestly, but i got lucky." memories flash behind his eyelids, fresh bruises, sliced fruit. bittersweet. ”ended up around some powerful people. they liked me. knighthood felt like the right choice.” 

he meets your entranced gaze, speaking with sincerity, devotion dipped in honey and holy water. sinking deeper still. ”it’s my purpose in life,” he breathes, a flurry of whispers on his tongue. heavier than either of you know. ”truly.”

you cock your head. ”being a knight?”

”protecting the weak,” he says. recites. like he’s said it a million times before, in the face of beasts, in the reflection of broken mirrors, a mantra to live and die by. ”protecting those who can’t protect themselves.”

the look in his eyes frightens you. deeper than the deepest lake, dark and murky, dragging him down. a devotion that smells of iron, tastes like steel. mania disguised as loyalty.

(knights love duty. almost as much as they love dying for it. that’s what your father always says.)

”but, honestly — this kind of thing isn’t bad,” he breaks you out of your trance, grinning sheepishly, almost boyishly. ”it’s been a while since i had so much fun on the job… thank you for that.”

he’s looking at you, right at you, into your eyes, an expression reserved for you and you alone. terribly earnest, grateful, a sincerity he wouldn’t show anyone else. ”honestly.”

you can do nothing but avert your gaze. swiftly, meekly, feeling heat crawl up your neck, blooming across your cheeks like the branches of a plum tree. suguru grins, gulping down the slightest coo — but he can’t resist the urge to poke fun at you a bit.

”… you’re a shy one, aren’t you?” he searches for your gaze, chuckling when he doesn’t find it. when you don’t let him. ”can’t even look people in the eye if they’re being nice to you… how precious.”

”oh, shut up,” you groan, glaring out into the night sky. blinking slowly, drowsily, biting back a yawn that your attentive knight still manages to notice. 

(he looks a little enamored.)

”ah… is my sweet little lord getting sleepy?”

”no,” you scoff, far too quick. ”i’m… tired.”

”of course.” he reaches out, carefully, to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. ”tired — not sleepy. that would be outrageous, wouldn’t it?” 

a yawn. ”it would.” 

low laughter bubbles up at the base of his throat, like seafoam, melting roses. deep and summery. ”alright. that’s enough stories for tonight, i think.” and with that, he gets up. ”let’s get you to bed, hm?”

rubbing your eyes, absently kicking your legs, you give him a slow nod of your head. making grabby hands at him that you’re sure you’ll be embarrassed about in the morning — but it feels easy, to be greedy, to know that your wants won’t be ignored when you’re with him. ”carry me, suguru.”

an indulgent smile. he doesn’t say anything, only curling his arms under your thighs, lifting you up and cradling you to his chest. you can feel his firm muscles, like this, trace them with your fingertips, hear the beating of his heart. tick-tock, tick-tock. a lullaby. a sense of safety, when you can’t tell where your heartbeat ends and his begins.

lost in that fuzzy, sleepy feeling, a blink away from falling into dreamland, fatigue washes over you — but you cling to his sleeve, even as he tucks you in, dragging the blanket up to cover you properly. 

”suguru,” you murmur, so quiet you doubt he hears it. ”will you tell me more stories tomorrow?”

”of course.” right before sleep coaxes you into its cradle, you feel the weight of his palm on your head; ruffling your hair. ”as many as you want, your highness.”

he smiles, as your eyes flutter shut, at the soft little breaths that flow from your lips. before he slips out, he blows out the candle on the nightstand, a silent prayer that your dreams will be kinder to you than his. 

— one week of nagging later, suguru’s resolve finally crumbles. it’s progress, at last, a tiny crack in his clockwork heart. 

but for once, it works in your favour.

”do you really want to see the outside world that badly?”

he’s got an arm locked around your waist, stopping you from one of your numerous escape attempts. you’ve gotten bolder, sneaking away the moment he takes his eyes off you, but suguru isn’t easy to fool — catching up to you just as you stepped outside the castle, now stuck in place under the portico. it’s to be expected, with that sixth sense of his, the one that seems to alert him as soon as you think the thought to get him in trouble. 

but you still can’t help but pout, huff and puff, pushing at his chest in a helpless attempt to break free. he’s sweet about it, gentle, but entirely unmoving. like a big, annoyingly handsome rock.

”what do you think?” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. ”no, of course not. this whole time, i’ve just been trying to escape for fun. like, as a bit. how could you tell?”

he rolls his eyes, and you break out into a grin. ”mind the sarcasm, please.” he barely resists the urge to pinch your side; letting you loose, instead, trusting you not to scurry away. he’d catch up to you instantly, anyhow. "i’m just saying, it might not be as interesting as you think —“

”what are you, stupid?”

”what did we say about letting people finish their sentences?” he raises a brow, and you try not to cower. rolling your eyes, instead. suguru just sighs. ”i understand why you want to leave. but you have a good life, here. better than most.”

”… i know that,” you grumble, biting down on your lip. a resignation in your eyes that your knight can't protect you from. ”i just —”

you sigh. 

”it’s just so suffocating.”

suguru falls into a contemplative silence. weighing his options, studying the flicker of emotions in your eyes, the tapping of your idle fingers. hands eager to fidget with something. 

moments pass, one at a time, a familiar lullaby of pitter patter ricocheting off the ground just outside your vision. the air smells of marigolds, burning wood, wet concrete. the beginnings of summer.

finally, he makes up his mind. 

”okay, okay.”

when you look up from the ground, what awaits you is an outstretched hand. a familiar palm, and a familiar knight, with a familiar smile on his face. ”but don’t get used to it, alright?”

…

you part your lips, but no sound comes out. gaping like a fish out of water, hunting for the right words. suguru waits. patient.

”w — hold on,” you stutter, eyes blooming with hesitant hope, studying him intently for any signs of trickery. ”you mean — seriously? like, for real?”

he shrugs. ”it’s my duty to keep you happy.” devotion clings to his tongue, sweet indulgence. ”figure i can make an exception this once.”

another moment passes.

(there isn’t a hint of deceit in his features.)

a grin breaks out across your lips, like a joyous bolt of lighting, and you lunge into his chest — throwing your arms over his broad shoulders, jumping up and down, planting a wet kiss against his cheek. bubbly, giddy, heart racing with disbelief. you don’t even have it in you to be bratty. ”thank you, thank you, thank you!”

suguru makes a choked out noise, a little comical, breath hitching in the back of his throat. stabilizing you with a palm on the small of your back, patting it softly, once or twice, before retracting his arm and pulling away. clearing his throat. ”… you’re welcome.”

(his ears burn a cherry red.)

”but this is our little secret,” he reminds you, firmly, collecting himself. or trying to. ”got it?”

”yep.”

”if anyone asks, you —”

”yep, yep, understood.” you brush him off, still grinning brightly. ”don’t worry! i won’t tell a soul, i promise. swear on my mother’s grave!”

your knight exhales. worried, maybe, a little exasperated — mostly just trying to mask how infectious your joy is. how addicted he is to it, now that he’s seen it up close. he’s only caught glimpses in the midst of your painting sessions; to see it directed at him instead of the wolf on your canvas is a treasure he won’t soon forget. 

sneakily, stealthily, like a pair of bad dogs, the two of you begin your journey to the woods on the horizon. wearing cloaks, sticking together, until the sun begins to set and the sky drains of colour. 

and before you know it, it’s right there in front of you. a narrow path into the woods, a cluster of trees, a world you’ve always dreamed of. dark and gritty, beautiful, brimming with bugs and sights yet to be seen. creatures you could only ever see in picture books. a dreamlike world that takes shape before you, like paint splattered on a canvas, as you follow suguru’s lead — right behind him, clinging to the fabric of his cloak, excitement flooding your veins. heart thumping erratically in your chest. 

when you’ve made it to a tiny clearing, you stop in your tracks. suguru’s holding a lantern, a flicker of orange in the dark green world before you, attracting fuzzy moths. proud trees stand tall all around you, keeping guard, mushrooms and forget me nots scattered across the dewy patches of grass. keeping them company. 

everything smells of life, earth, oak wood and thinly veiled secrets. you want to live here forever.

suguru turns to look at you, noticing the way you’ve stilled. completely mesmerized, bewitched, eyes gleaming with childlike happiness. he tuts, doing a bad job at hiding how pleased he is. the sound makes you meet his eye.

”careful,” he croons, inching closer. fingertips ghosting over your wrist, right above your pulsepoint. ”could be wolves around. stay close.”

you tilt your head, feigning confusion. ”i’ve already got one right next to me, though?”

the comment earns you a flat expression, unimpressed, and it pulls a giggle from out your throat. the corners of suguru’s lips curl up, unwillingly, as he shakes his head; exhaling a tired breath. exasperated. 

then he hums. ”well, at least you're aware.”

suddenly, he’s walking forward, slipping away, cold air replacing the buzzing warmth of his skin on yours. hot blood, ever flowing, hidden within his veins — pumped out from his heavy heart. it’s there and then it’s gone. tick, tock, one step after the other, until he’s turning around to face you again. unfurling his outstretched hand, waiting for you to grab hold of it. 

his long hair sways with the breeze, smooth and unburdened, black like the night sky above you. a starry glint in his eyes. his voice comes out deep, a raspy lilt, like the scraping of metal against concrete. 

when he smiles, you think you catch a glimpse of sharp teeth.

”will you trust this wolf to keep you safe?”

under the web of shadows cast by the trees, barely illuminated by the shivering moon, all you can do is watch him. his gleaming eyes, the curl of a toothy grin on his lips. a knight, a wolf, a friend.

your protector. 

finally, finally, you grasp onto his offered hand. his fingers intertwine with your own, a puzzle finally solved, and his palm feels a little calloused. skin littered with tiny scars, years of training and killing, but it’s still somehow so soft. nice and smooth. 

he’s warm. and now he’s smiling at you, like you put all the gold of the world into his palm. 

”yeah,” you grin, a little cheeky. stepping closer, clinging to him without restraint, knowing he’ll indulge you. ”keep me safe, wolfie.”

his laughter rings out into the air like a cicada song, sweet and nostalgic. or a howl, maybe. it makes you want to gnaw at his bones; memorize his taste, so you’ll never quite be without him. it’s not your fault he looks so chewable when he’s smiling like that.

”i will,” he promises, vows, pledges, hand on his heavy heart. knights and their rituals. ”you don’t have to worry about a thing. not while i’m here.”

and you don’t. you know you don’t. because suguru is the greatest knight, the coolest wolf, and his clockwork heart never ceases to tick. it won’t break under pressure, no matter how much you push — so you don’t bother holding back. wrapping both arms around his bicep, cozying up to him, tugging at his cloak with a pep in your step. 

”c’mon, c’mon!" you beckon him forward. "i wanna see how everything looks up close.”

and he just lets you manhandle him, for a bit. following your lead. ”of course,” he croons. ”your wish is my command, your highness.”

the night stretches on, seemingly never-ending, like the branches of the oak tree you find in the heart of the woods. broken, beautiful, stretching out in all directions — as if wishing to engulf the world. a garden of forking paths, covered in jagged bark, but still somehow so warm to the touch. you’re sure there’s a heartbeat in there, somewhere. maybe a couple of swords too.

all good things must come to an end. but you refuse to leave the comfort of your mossy haven until suguru promises to bring you back, someday, maybe, if you play nice. it’s a deal that you’re willing to take.

only then do you begin your journey back towards the castle. having gotten your fill, for now, left to wallow in the newfound sights etched into your memory. still clinging to your knight like a child with their favorite doll, babbling into his ear about something or another. about how you’re almost sure you saw a wolf in the bushes, about how pretty the cicadas’ songs were. how you’re gonna convince him to take you there every single day.

the sun is yawning, stretching its endless limbs out, getting ready to rise and envelop the world. the sky is a calm blue, soon to be painted orange and pink, but you aren’t tired at all. you must sound a little incoherent, but suguru nods along to your every word. listening attentively.

so kind. so patient. sure, he’s a tease, and more than a little patronizing — but you don’t think you’ve ever liked anyone this much before. it’s weird. it’s fun. 

(you wonder if he feels the same.)

”hey, suguru?”

he keeps his eyes locked on the road ahead, but still spares you a brief glance, just to let you know you have his full attention. a second of hesitance is all your sleepy brain allows you, curiosity enveloping most of your functioning thoughts.

”would you… i mean. if i was, like… a different person —” you pause. suguru quirks a brow, and you suddenly feel a little flustered. ”um, what i mean is! like, if the king ordered you to be someone else’s knight… would you protect them like you do with me?”

he blinks. once, then twice, meeting your hopeful gaze. stifling a yawn, and parting his lips. 

”obviously.”

…

your face falls. lips dropping down into a soft pout, rich with disappointment, paired with a barely audible huff. suguru furrows his brows, playfully, smiling in the way he always does when he’s about to tease you.

”ah, my bad,” he croons. ”were you expecting something else? a… forbidden romance, perhaps?”

before you can begin to protest, warmth rushing to your cheeks, he stops walking. dropping down on one knee, dramatically, with a flutter of his cloak. theatrical. 

gently, he grabs hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips as his eyes flutter shut. you bite back a squeak. his voice comes out low, sultry, honeyed — so heavy with emotion that it’s obvious he’s faking it. ”the only person i yearn to protect is you, my liege,” his breath feels hot against your skin. ”i could never love another. i exist for you, and you alone.” 

suddenly, he’s smirking. you feel it against the knots of your knuckle, right before he cracks a single eye open. glimmering with deep amusement. ”… is that better?”

and you huff. sharply, doing all that you can to avoid getting flustered, his heavy gaze burning right into your own. it really, really doesn’t work. ”you’re so mean.”

”not mean,” he chuckles, rising to his feet. dusting off his cloak. ”i’m just… managing your expectations, my lord. they’d have my head on the chopping block if i so much as touched you without their consent — you know that.”

another little huff. ”i never said i wanted you to…” 

(you do, though.)

suguru hums. ”i’m your knight,” he reminds you, as always, until you get tired of hearing it. steadfast, irrefutable. ”that’s all. remember?”

something bitter settles on your tongue. 

but you nod. ”that’s right,” you hum. ”mine.”

a teasing mirth flickers through his eyes, like the first setting sunrays reflecting off cathedral glass. reverent, dyeing the world in all the colour it asks for. and he chuckles, raspy, amused. ”possessive little thing…”

that’s right, you remind yourself. he’s your knight. your lying, teasing, playwright of a knight. always wearing a mask, hiding behind a suit of armor, playing one role or another. only baring himself under the light of the sun, when no one is around to see. he’s infuriatingly patient, endlessly loyal, the greatest bootlicker you’ve encountered in your life. but he’s kind, too. maybe a little too kind. 

and he always, always kneels. 

such a large man, all toned muscle and tall stature, broad shoulders and a firm chest — kneeling at your feet. like a loyal dog. with a rustle of armor, a flutter of fabric, a sigh and a smile. as soon as you ask for it.

”c’mon. let’s hurry back,” you hear him say, biting back another yawn. ”before anyone finds out i kidnapped you. don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?”

”i kinda do.”

a silent look. unimpressed. it’s the most sincere expression he knows how to make, and also the most comical. ”careful,” he looks ahead, hiding his amused smile. ”wolves eat bratty heirs, you know? better stay on my good side, your highness.”

a bout of sleepy giggles. you curl an arm around his bicep, putting your weight onto him, but he doesn’t stumble. ”sorry, mr wolf! please, by all means, eat my dear father instead.”

”don’t be disrespectful.”

”sorry,” you quip, entirely unapologetic. ”i forgot you had a crush on him. that’s my ba — ow!”

suguru brushes by you, walking forward, hiding his growing grin. leaving you with an ache in your hip and two wide eyes. 

”hurry up, my lord. we don’t have all day.”

”wha — you pinched me!” you stumble after him, barely containing your quiet delight. ”they’ll have your head for this, you know!”

silent laughter. you don’t need to hear it to know that it’s there, just ahead of you, tucked into crows’ feet and a curl of his lips.

suguru always kneels.

but, sometimes, he talks to you as if you’re equals. sometimes he takes the lead, pinches your hip, tells you off a little. teasing, patient, but there’s an edge to him that he doesn’t always hide. sometimes, he lets you see it, and you figure that must make you at least a little bit special.

sometimes, he feels like your best friend.

careless, careless, careless.

how could he ever be so careless?

everything blurs into a puddle of red. murky, sticky, everywhere all at once. all he sees is red, all he feels is burning. his heartbeat pulses at the base of his throat, bottom lip bruised and aching from hours of sinking his teeth into the flesh, over and over — every single nerve of his body running on adrenaline and nothing else.

(adrenaline and fear, maybe, but they’ve always been synonymous. never one without the other.)

the slaughter is mindless. suguru knows that’s how they like it, anyhow — knights aren’t supposed to think. they don’t need to. 

suguru certainly isn’t. cutting his way through the bandit’s den, practically growling, sword painted such a dark shade of red that he doubts he’ll ever be able to wipe it clean. harsh slashes, pure instinct, wildfire inside his veins, iron on his tongue. 

suguru isn’t thinking, he’s hunting. sniffing like a bloodhound. eyes scanning the area before him like a hungry beast.

suguru is hunting — for you.

and when he sees you, at last, tied up and barely conscious, he’s almost certain he’s going to grow claws, fangs, matted fur. that he’s going to turn into a beast beneath the fading moonlight.

but he falls to his knees, instead, like a wounded dog. throwing his burganet off, with a clatter, crawling closer. heaving breaths, untying you with shaky hands, greedy fingertips hunting for a pulsepoint —

and only when he finds it does he allow himself the luxury of breathing again.

when you come to, veins dragged down by a fuzzy sensation, your vision is blurred. foggy, dull colours on the canvas of your mind, gradually washed away as you struggle for control. you stir, and finally see the figure above you. 

what you see is a knight, a wolf, a beast beneath the moonlight. a kind, kind man.

suguru.

bloodied armor. sweaty, messy hair, sticking to his forehead. pure panic in his bloodshot eyes. he cradles your face, cold metal on your cheek, dirty and smelling of iron. he moves his mouth; you delude yourself into thinking that his bottom lip is trembling. forming around familiar vowels.

he’s saying your name.

there must be something wrong with you, you belatedly realize. the last one to do so. because you’re hurt, scared, but you still feel a skip of your heartbeat. 

(he finally said it.)

you muster all the strength at your disposal, eyelids fluttering. and you try to answer, you do, reaching for that thread between your brain and your tongue — but it comes out as a garbled little thing, more air than noise. 

it’s enough. the tense crease between his brows melts away, and he sighs.

”oh, thank the heavens.”

another sensation. he’s touching your hand, now, cold metal on warm skin, bringing it up to his lips; a shaky little exhale brushing against the knots of your knuckle. his lips are chapped. 

then he’s scooping you up, cradling you close, as close as metaphysically possible, as if willing to cut his stomach open to fit you inside. a firm grip, comforting, stable. desperate, a mother wolf carrying her cub to safety, by the skin of her teeth. his hair tickles your skin, but you don’t mind.

only when he brings you back to the castle does everything fall into place. he explains everything, as you sit in bed, still recovering. a sudden attack, from within the castle, a kidnapping. some enemies of the king, a scandal to do with you and your blood. something, something, something. you’ve grown used to not understanding why you keep getting hurt. and you’re too distracted by the sullen face of the knight in front of you to pay attention.

suguru wasn’t there to stop it — wasn’t there to save you, be your knight in dashing armor. the king had invited him to a game of chess, and you had been adamant in your refusal to join them.

so you don’t understand why he’s apologizing.

he’s smiling, but it’s weak, as flimsy as a piece of paper. his lying smile, tight-lipped, betrayed by the redness of his eyes, the puffy skin beneath them. dark crescents. he sits by your bedside and looks a little like he wants to curl into a ball. 

”i’m sorry.”

and ah, you think; there it is. guilt. always, always clinging to him, a ghost haunting him wherever he goes. it’s been there since the beginning, in the scar reaching for his shoulder, the nature of his never-fading smile. guilt, guilt, guilt. you wonder if he's ever gone without it. you wonder if knights begin to crumble when they stop feeling ashamed. 

he looks sad.

with a breathless inhale, you part your lips. you want to tell him that he has nothing to apologize for, that you’re fine now — that you could never be mad at him. not really, never truly, never at him. you want to tell him that he’s your favorite person, not just your favorite knight, that he’s allowed to make mistakes without demanding that he suffer for them. 

you want to tell him that it’s okay, really. seriously.

but all that leaves your lips is a meek little sniffle. as the shock of it all finally settles, sinking deep into your bones, the fear of being captured, the dull ache of your skull meeting the ground. you can’t tell him any of the things you want to, and you feel so awful — 

because suguru’s face falls. like you just thrust a knife into his sternum and twisted it. he looks like he could cry, too.

”i’m sorry,” his voice cracks, right down the middle. like a broken vase. ”i’m so sorry.” it’s not at all what you want to hear, but you can’t tell him that either. he’s bundling you up before you know it, dragging you into the comfort of his chest, one large palm on the back of your head; tugging you closer still. he smells of soap and oak wood and peach blossoms. ”it was scary, wasn’t it?”

and you nod. into his neck, wet tears brushing against his skin. not stable enough to act tough. you don’t think he is, either.

suguru exhales, shaky, clutching you like he could lose you if he lets go. lose himself. he knows you’re scared, but you let him soothe you. it means something, he thinks. it means something that you let him come so close, closer than anyone’s ever been. so he swallows the guilt until it’s no longer clogging up the back of his throat, if only so his voice can flow out through the gap, give you the comfort you need. just rubbing your back until you calm down, apologizing silently — over and over again. manic, like the tick-tock of a clock.

until your voice breaks him out of it.

”it’s not your fault.”

he stiffens. still holding you, feeling your heartbeat settle down, hearing your voice break out of your throat. it comes out as a weak croak, with just the slightest hint of disapproval.

he gulps.

”don’t worry about me, right now,” he hushes you. a silent plea. ”i’m not the one who’s injured.”

”suguru —” you sigh, almost a hiss. ”i hit my head. once. that’s all.” you wipe away the wetness of your cheeks, biting back a sniffle. ”… you’re acting like i’m fucking dying. cut it out.”

(for once, he’s relieved to hear that sharp edge of your voice. it means you’re feeling better.)

a weak inhale. ”… they kidnapped you. it must’ve been terrifying. please, just…” and a tired exhale. ”please just don’t strain yourself.”

”it wasn’t your fault.”

…

”your highne —”

”i’m serious.” you’re pulling away, suddenly, clasping onto his cheeks with your tearstained palms. squishing his face together. ”it wasn’t your fault. it was mine.”

he shakes his head, eager to protest, so you squish his cheeks with more force, and shake his head for him. like a misbehaving dog. ”nope. if you even think about apologizing, i’ll start crying again.”

he lets out a huff. frowning, sadly, a downcast pair of eyes.

”don’t pout. i’ll bite you.”

it’s slight, barely even there at all — but you think the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, just by a hair, exhaling through his nose with just the slightest hint of amusement.

he places his palm over yours. 

a moment passes, slow and steady, both of you catching your breaths. calming down, letting the fear of it all seep out of your aching bones. you hope the warmth of your skin against his soothes him as much as it soothes you. 

”… you know, your highness,” he murmurs, softly. meeting your puffy eyes with his tired pools of amber gold. ”there’s something i never told you.”

you blink. he continues.

”just the night before the king reached out to me… i had a dream.” he musters a weak, exhausted little smile. ”dreams… i don’t have them very often. and when i do, they’re nothing good. but this dream…” 

his eyes flutter shut. a curtain closing, a raven taking flight, the tick-tock of a heartbeat. you can’t look away. ”it stuck out to me.”

silence.

your voice comes out soft, like the bedsheets beneath you, the man before you. a tiny breath of a question. ”… what was it about?”

he smiles. smoothing a thumb over your knuckle, reverent, as if memorizing every ridge and dip.

”a fox.”

…

”it had…” his hand slips from the small of your back, reaching for your cheek, pinching it gently. ”a cheeky smile.”

your skin heats up, beneath his touch. and you blink, not saying a word, because there isn’t any need to. all the words you could ever want have already been painted out.

(well, maybe not quite all.)

”suguru.” you lean close, just a little, drinking him in. and he listens, as always, so you don’t bother beating around the bush. swallowing any embarrassment your tired mind can still feel. because your knight is right in front of you, eyes still red from crying, and you want him to be happy. “i think you’re my favorite person.”

he stills.

then he’s burning up. 

”wha — where did that come from?” he stammers, a strawberry hue to his ears, his neck, the tips of his fingers. enveloping him like a blanket of warmth.

you only shrug. ”you told me the truth. figured i should return the favour, for once.” a giddy, exhausted smile. “we’re both awful liars, huh?”

suguru opens his mouth. then he closes it, again, desperate to collect himself. you think he must be a little too exhausted to, and you wish you could say you felt bad. ”you… you can’t just —”

he squeezes his eyes shut. sighing. giving up, the gears of his mind grinding to a halt. your grin blooms wider.

”hehe.” you poke at his flushed cheek, and he cracks a single eye open. ”you’re blushing.”

he huffs, leaning away from your touch, and you find yourself enjoying the reversal of your usual roles. very much so. he tries to smile, tries to get one up on you, but he only blushes a deeper shade of red once your words reach his ears. 

so he settles for using cheap tricks.

”you’re hallucinating,” he scoffs, shoving your head into the fluffy pillows all around you. ever so gently, listening to your muffled giggles. trying to stifle his own joy. ”go back to sleep.”

”my blushy knight,” you coo, and he drags the blanket over your head. biting down on his lip to stop himself from joining your bubbly laughter, blushing more than ever. 

(the word knight sounds very pretty, when it’s falling from your lips.)

”i swear,” he exhales, heavy and exasperated, but you can hear the smile in his voice. ”just what am i to do with you?”

it’s fond. delicate, even in his bouts of teasing, the light instances of manhandling. and you’re happy, because he’s not apologizing anymore, and he’s happy because you aren’t crying anymore. give and take. there’s a rhythm to it, a point where everything else becomes background noise, whether it’s memories of a kidnapping or a decade-old guilt.

he stays with you all night, even after you’ve fallen asleep. just watching you, safeguarding you, checking your pulse every now and then. content to watch as your chest rises and falls, with the tender ticking of your heartbeat.

that night, you dream of a kind, kind wolf, and a painting yet to be finished. 

before you lies a field of stars.

you’re seated on a blanket, with a pretty knight to your left, up on top of a grassy hill. daffodils bloom around you, sweet nectar hanging in the air, a field of sunflowers waving at you from below. dragonflies greet you with a scratchy song. 

everything is perfect. a midnight rendezvous, a picnic under the stars — suguru’s own idea. to celebrate the time that you’ve spent together.

(well, that part was your idea. but you’re sure he appreciates it, too.)

the basket next to you is filled with fruit and berries, marmalade and jam, bottles of herbal tea. suguru’s delicious sandwiches. you bite into one of them, humming happily, and he’s quick to brush the occasional crumb from the corner of your lip, ghosting over your skin with a smile.

there’s another basket, too, just in front of you, that you brought on your own. hiding a secret; one you're just about to unveil. 

you clear your throat to get his attention.

like clockwork, he’s looking at you. listening, when  you tell him to close his eyes, only giving you a questioning raise of his brow and an amused exhale. 

you’re quick to lean forward, uncovering the basket, revealing the secret you’ve hidden so well. suguru is still waiting, indulgent, patient. you feel a little hesitant, but still part your lips.

“… okay. you can open them, now.”

he does. instantly, two ravens taking flight, and the sight that awaits them is that of a painting; a painting of a wolf, in the middle of the woods, empty armors and wilted sunflowers all around it. dragonflies and dragonflies, a knight just out of view.

he stares, silently, and you do your best to hide your growing nervosity. even as he takes it into his lap, and your gaze falls to the blanket below you. ”it’s… not my best work, but —” his eyes stay glued onto the painting, as you stumble blindly for the right words to say. wringing your hands together, clutching at the fabric of your sleeves. ”i’d… like you to have it. i mean, unless you —”

”thank you.”

you raise your head.

suguru is gazing at the canvas with the softest pair of eyes you’ve ever seen. melting amber, crinkled at the edges, accompanied by a sweet grin. 

”i’ll treasure it,” he vows, meeting your eyes, voice dripping with warmth. hand on his heart, and you can’t even poke fun at it. ”always.”

his earnest acceptance is enough to fluster you, enough to make you feel as it your heart is about to collapse, but he continues to look at the painting with enough awe to fill an empty lake with water, and it makes you terribly shy. 

until his smile drops.

”uh, actually — i…”

now it’s your turn to stare, silently, as he fumbles with something in the basket at his feet. gentle, as he takes out glass jars and wrapped sandwiches. out comes a sheet of paper. 

then he’s clearing his throat. handing it to you, pointedly avoiding your gaze. ”i’m not an artist, so you know. i just…” he coughs, a little out of his element. “well. here.”

with delicate hands, you accept it, bringing it down to your lap. big, curious eyes taking it in.

it’s a sketch — made with coal, a little smudged, but awfully charming. pretty, delicate.

it’s a sketch of a fox.

wide-eyed, all you can do is stare. gaze flitting up to meet his own, his nervous expression, before falling back to the little canine. ”you — this…” back and forth, over and over again. ”for — ?” 

you point to yourself. 

suguru only chuckles. ”yes, it’s for you. who else?” he taps the pads of his fingers against the handle of the basket, watching you silently admire the mischievous fox. not saying anything; so he continues.

”like i said; i’m not an artist. you can always throw it away, if you’d —”

”i’m gonna frame it.”

…

”i'm gonna frame it,” you repeat, eyes shining with sincerity. a little manic. ”i’ll hang it on the wall of the castle hallway so everyone can see it. it’ll be there for centuries to come, passed down —”

”please don't —”

”d’you think a gold frame would fuck up the vibe? maybe a modest silver is best.” you turn to face him, ignoring his blatant embarrassment. ”oooh, hang on! father knows this guy who makes them with real minerals. i’ll just —”

”your highness,” the knight cuts you off, almost with a squeak. ”please. it’s just a dumb drawing. i just… wanted to give it to you. that’s all.”

a pause. you look into his eyes, flickering with hesitance, an earnest desire for your approval only. so you hum, albeit a little hesitant.

”… alright. if you say so. i’ll hang it in my room, then.”

he sighs; relieved. ”that’s better. really, you —”

”thank you.” you whisper, blinking away the wetness at your lash-line. staring at the sketch with a dreamy, dreamy smile. ”i love it.”

you grin, happily, practically beaming. suguru wants to keep it there, always, on those pretty lips; he wants to lay his life on the line to protect it. but something tells him that would just make it fall. 

finally, everything clicks into place. the air fills with the scent of herbal tea, fresh strawberries, acrylic paint and hushed whispers. your own ritual, repeated over and over, like a loving waltz. 

as always, it’s suguru who breaks the silence. shatters it with the tip of his tongue. 

”hey,” he calls, softly. “my lord.”

mouth full of bread, you simply look at him. chewing silently, attention piqued. swallowing with a gulp. he places his folded hands on his lap, exhaling a little breath. ”… i’ve been thinking.”

”uh oh.”

silently, he gives you one of those flat, unimpressed looks of his, and you quiet down with a grin and another mouthful of bread. he quirks a brow, exhaling amusedly, then shakes his head and continues.

”i retract my earlier statement.”

when you glance up again, he’s smiling. showing more teeth than usual, a little wider, a little wolfish. a little more himself. you want to paint it, keep it hidden away somewhere only you can see.

”if it was someone else — anyone else…” he trails off, tasting the words on his tongue. “i doubt i’d feel this way. i doubt i’d want to protect them as fervently.” his voice flows out like a river of gold, just a little scratchy. it always is, when it sounds this sincere. 

he meets your eyes, and everything falls into place. 

”you’ve become precious to me,” he admits. ”i can't remember what it felt like to not be yours.”

his tongue curls around a familiar set of syllables, and your name seeps from his lips like a prayer, a vow, a trickle of honey and wine. devotion sticks to his tongue, to the vowels, a heavy fondness — something devout. something you've only ever heard from the mouths of priests.

and then he’s smiling. 

”i think i’ll be your knight until the day i die,” he breathes, and deep down you know it’s a vow. “even if the king discards me of that title.”

silence. except for an increasingly loud mantra of tick-tocks, from the depths of your own chest, echoing in your ears. your knight is in front of you, and he’s yours, and he’s smiling like he loves you. like he always will.

”… suguru.”

he hums, eyes lidded, blinking slowly. serenely. he lets you cling to him, pull him close, practically dragging him into your lap.

”stay with me,” you plead, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. too desperate to feel embarrassed. ”forever. promise me.”

an exhale, right by your ear. it sounds so fond you could cry. 

“i promise,” he whispers, fingers intertwining with your own. a perfect puzzle piece, a functional clockwork. lifting your hand, bringing his glossy lips to your knuckle; where they belong. ”until death tears me away from you.”

”it won’t,” you deadpan, partly to distract him from the growing heat of your fingertips. mostly because it’s true. ”you won't let it.”

he smiles against your knuckle, breathing out an airy laugh. ”clever little thing…” his free hand goes to rest on your spine, as always, and you lean back to see him properly. knowing he’ll catch you if you fall.

“.. but yeah," he sighs. "i won’t.”

before you know it, you’re leaning back in. because his eyes are the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen, and his hair is just a little tousled, and he looks so kissable it aches.

his jaw trembles, a little, when you press your lips against the curve of it. his whole body seems to still, for a moment, and you pull back just to see if he’s blushing. he is. 

but he must have anticipated your teasing, because he’s tucking you under his chin before you can see it through. pressing you close. and he tuts, a click of his silver tongue. ”… you little tease,” comes a whisper. ”how am i supposed to hold back now?”

”don’t hold back, dummy,” you grin, muffled against the column of his throat. you just barely resist the urge to sink your teeth into the skin. ”you’re a bad actor, anyway. the worst.”

and he is. he’s been looking at your lips this whole time — he couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.

suguru laughs, breathy, overflowing with fondness. chest rumbling with the noise, blending together with the rhythmic thumping of his clockwork heart. ”okay,” comes a soft lull of his tongue. ”i won’t, then.”

a drowsy feeling overtakes you, just as you feel his lips meet the crown of your head. it’s not much, but it’s a start. and it’s tender, tender enough to get you choked up, to get you to close your eyes to stop any tears from forming. because one person in this kingdom understands you, and he tells you that he’ll never leave. and you think you can actually find it in you to believe him. 

one person’s clockwork heart never breaks for you, and maybe that’s enough to convince you to stop trying to push it there.

”you can sleep, if you’d like,” is whispered against your hair. soft, soothing, his palm on your spine. ”i’ve got you. always.”

(one person in this world can make you feel safe, with just four little words. and isn’t that something?)

so you doze off, on the shoulder of your very own knight. your favorite knight, always and forever, a sword at his hip that was forged to protect you. or so he’ll tell you, years from now, when he’s got you in his lap, when there isn’t any need for him to act anymore.

and you dream a perfect dream. a dream of a wolf, and a fox, and a garden of stars.

#i am dead. ive died. u guys will never hear from me again. gootbye.

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 10

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none. idiots in love

notes ; ITS YEARNING HOURS BAYBEE ‼️ for the first time ever, a bit of childe’s POV, wowie zowie!! also a bit of a cheesy chapter LMFAO, it’s just these two dinguses “reaching” the realization that they want each other so bad, it makes them look stupid.

also a smidgen hint at the end towards the next phase of this dumpster fire of a fic >:3

ok and finally- i know i already made a post abt it but like. would u guys still love me if i posted a luke castellan fic? it’s SO self indulgent bc i’m brain rotting from the percy jackson show so idk yet :>

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old wooden planks creak with each step childe takes.

he’d long lost the count of the days he’d spent in this peculiar inazuman domain— the mystic omnyou chamber, his companions called it. though what a fascinating domain it was, ever-changing and ever-puzzling but most of all, ever-deploying more enemies for him to fight his way through. he feels like only now he truly knows what teucer must’ve felt like in front of all those mr. cyclopses all those months ago.

he felt as though he was given a little too much breathing room by the motherland, still being stationed in liyue with you whoever knows how long his mission was finished, so it was no less than perfect to hear the news of scaramouche’s disappearance from inazuma after taking the gnosis for himself. as much as he disliked to have to leave you in northland bank with the promise of the two of returning together still at hand, he dully needed to take up on his responsibilities as one of her majesty’s harbingers.

still, he could fair by through the remembrance of you and his love for combat.

it’s amusing how freshly burned into his mind the memory of your time together at dottore’s lab was, even when he was half-conscious and at his physically weakest. how you soothed away his wounds with the cool breeze of your cryo powers, how you kept him company while he recovered, how you called him a pret-

“psst— you’re doing that thing again.”

“h-huh..?”

the harbinger is snapped from his daydreaming by paimon naggingly whispering to him. as childe finds himself back in reality, he registers the sight of the traveler, xinyan and shiki taishou walking ahead distractedly through the narrow dusty hallways of the domain, while paimon had fallen back alongside him.

“are you back now? ok good.” the travel guide snides, hands sassily placed at her hips.

childe chuckles sheepishly. “i-i’m sorry, paimon, but i’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”

“oh, come on, it’s so obvious! the entire time we’ve been here, you’ve been doing this thing where you either doze off thinking about y/n! y’know as someone so passionate about fighting, you really need to get your head in the game right now.”

he feigns an offended scoff. “that is entirely untrue, comrade. my focus is solely on figuring out this domain’s mysteries and defeating its monsters.”

there’s a brief pause, where childe thoroughly reevaluates what paimon just said.

“wait, how did you know i was thinking about y/n? i-if i were dozing off and possibly thinking about them!”

she scoffs. “puh-lease, you’ve been babbling about them since we got here! almost everything you’ve said has somehow trailed off into y/n, so much so that even shiki taishou is caught up on what’s happened with you two!”

paimon was someone known to be a bit eccentric and overreactive at certain moments, but she also had her moments of being very bluntly honest in other situations. this was one of them. the harbinger deliberates for a moment, out of all the time he’s spent venturing this domain with the paper doll, just how much information had he unwillingly retained about you.

suddenly, a moment of clarity washes over childe and he vividly recalls all the moments during his venture in the domain where he’s talked about you. saying things such as ‘i wonder how y/n is doing right now…’, or ‘hah, y/n’s cryo attacks would demolish these enemies.’ or even ‘oh! that reminds of this one time, when y/n and i were kids…’. lest we mention the multiple times he’s said ‘i can’t wait to return to inazuma with y/n and show them this.’ whenever he’d been exploring the electro land’s scenic locations.

poor shiki taishou.

but then again, is it truly his fault that the mystic omnyou chamber had so many moments and details that were so clearly reminiscent of you? o-or maybe… maybe this was just a domain and everything reminded him of you regardless. but that’s the more unlikely possibility.

he curses scaramouche in his mind for a brief moment. it was all because he decided to go rogue that childe had to leave so abruptly— just when he’d made amends with you, just when the two of you were restoring your friendship. just when you’d started to flash him that devastating smile of yours again, instead of the standoffish snarl you’d presented during his mission in liyue. gods, he could feel his heart pang against his chest. surely it was just the adrenaline of battle, though. even if the group hadn’t faced enemies in more than ten minutes by now.

an even further tucked part of childe’s mind curses paimon next, for pointing out how much he speaks of you, because now he truly cannot stop. he looks ahead towards the end of the corridor and he can’t see what’s next, can’t see the next tatami matted arena where he’ll face a new wave of enemies, something he thinks he wants— no, all he sees is you.

it’s like your face is burned into his retinas, your fond laughter burned into brain and the warm feeling of when he slept against your shoulder burned into his skin.

childe doesn’t doesn’t fight as well as before in the next battle, he’s sloppy and distracted. after the arena is cleared, he’s left with a scratch across his bicep— which, thankfully, the domain grants a healing sigil to mend.

but it’ll never cure him like you do, never soothe the very core of his being like your powers do and it’ll never look at him the same way you did, caring and attentive.

he remembers how he felt lookup up at you then— like you were the stars in the night sky. he needed to get this mission over with as soon as possible.

—

you could almost hear your mother’s nagging tone telling you to not play with your food. as delicious as liyuean cuisine was, you’d lost your appetite halfway through your meal- as well as interest in the tale the restaurant’s storyteller was telling.

it’d been probably the dullest week you’ve had in a while, no new assignments from the motherland, no events happening in the city and… admittedly, no childe.

you can’t find the effort to lie to yourself and say it’s fine that he’s gone, that it’s for the tsaritsa’s noble cause— you don’t care about it. scaramouche could screw off with the gnosis and live his life, as far as you were concerned. in fact, you’d say he deserves it, given all he’s gone through with the doctor, even if he could be an astronomical asshole at times— well most of the times.

and now you can’t decide who to blame for childe’s absence, the balladeer or the tsaritsa. either way, it’s affected you more than you’d ever admit out loud. it’s been such a monotone week not just because of the distinct lack of anything to do in liyue lately, but also because of a distinct lack of… someone to worry about. yeah, that’s what it was, just an unusual sense of calm and nothing to stress over, that’s all—

“even in all my years, i’ve rarely seen someone stare at an unfinished bowl of dragon beard noodles with such intensity.”

a rumbling, baritone voice quips jokingly from across your small table and you’re startled away from your thoughts. looking up, the comment is revealed to come from mr. zhongli, the consultant from wanshe— oh, who were you kidding, the now former geo archon.

you hadn’t formerly spoken to him since the mission to take, well, his gnosis. after the situation with osial was diffusd, you beared witness to an unsettlingly diplomatic exchange between mr. zhongli and the fair lady, where he gave away the very culmination of his divinity like it was spare change. of course, you’ve spotted him countless times around the harbor— merely enjoy the little things the city had to offer. you can’t truly fault him for making the decision that he did, six thousand years is, unspokenly, too much time to not peruse the fruits of his labor from up close.

“a-ah, mr. zhongli! it’s been so long since we last spoke.” you scramble to politely greet zhongli and briefly wonder if you should stand up to bow to him, which he seems to notice.

“my apologies for startling you, doctor— may i?” he gestures to the seat in front of you and you nod.

“yes, it has been some time. i recall you being there for the completion of my contract with the fair lady, but the last time the two of us had the opportunity to meet casually was the very same night we first met.”

you nod curtly— you’re tense, you don’t know why. you know he’s not an archon anymore, you were there to see it, but perhaps the real weight of being in the presence of someone so powerful, not just an archon but the oldest of the original seven, seems to have only settled in now. you feel almost as choked as when in the presence of the tsaritsa, which you know all the same that you shouldn’t be. zhongli chuckles amusedly.

“i ask you to treat me as though you would’ve that night in liuli pavilion, like any other acquaintance. chatting with a mere consultant of a funeral parlor requires no formalities. now— have you been well, doctor?”

you can still only bring yourself to nod wordlessly in response, there’s no need for zhongli to know how royally miserable you’ve been lately.

“and.. may i ask why you held such a glare towards your meal? is it not your liking?”

“oh, no the noodles are just fine, amazing even! i was just… contemplating wether to finish it or not.”

great cover.

“hm,” zhongli hums with playful suspicion. “while a reasonable topic of contemplation, it did very much seem as though you were rather staring through the bowl, as though there is something on your mind. i would not mind hearing what is it that vexes you, doctor— if you’re comfortable to share, of course.”

yeah there was no fooling a, again, six thousand year old divine being with a half-assed excuse like yours. you sigh.

“well— yes, you caught me. the last few days have been, uh… less than peachy for me.”

“what exactly is it troubles you these days?”

“i wouldn’t say it’s trouble but, there hasn’t been much to do at northland bank lately. and childe has been out on a mission for some time now— b-but it’s mainly the lack of assignments!” you stammer.

“is that so? i did hear of childe’s sudden departure for inazuma but it is curious that you’re being kept stationed here with essentially nothing to do. but, if i may— has childe been absent for as long as you’ve felt dull at work or would you say there is no relation?”

already at so few words out of sheer nervousness, zhongli managed still to render you completely and utterly speechless. what are you even supposed to respond to this?

“i-i uhm, i… alright, i won’t even try.” you sigh in defeat and zhongli looks coyly pleased. he patiently awaits for you to gather your thoughts and actually say more than two stammered sentences.

“i truly can’t tell what it is. i feel like i’m supposed to be worrying for him— as if he’ll get injured again or injure someone else o-or even worse, do something stupid but there’s just.. nothing! it’s like i’m so used to being aware of his presence and now there’s nothing and it’s- it’s frustrating.”

“you miss him.”

you pause. do you miss him? no, it can’t be so simple— you have a medical degree, it is most certainly improbable that you’ve been trying your brain over just missing childe. well, sure it was great that the two of you were starting to make amends and stopped being so on-edge around each other but… there’s no objective reason for you to miss him.

right?

“i would not say i even near the level of an expert on matters concerning relationships between people, but i’ve seen a lot in my time. enough to tell you with confidence that it’s most likely you just.. miss him, doctor. and that it is okay to feel this way. the two of you do not stand at odds anymore, you never have— it is reasonable for you to be affected by his absence.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “how do you know if… childe and i stand at odds, mr. zhongli.”

“well, i have witnessed it. both directly and indirectly— the tension and misunderstanding between the two of you during our meeting at liuli pavilion was quite evident and i’ve heard of how you opposed him in battle at the golden house. but that is all it has ever been, misunderstandings and disagreements, but you’ve never truly disliked each other.”

“h-how do you know-“

“he speaks quite highly of you, doctor.”

“wh-what?”

“childe has only ever spoken highly of you— i recall mentioning that had been looking forward to meeting you in person during our dinner, it is all because of how grand his description of you was. plus, during our eventual meetups, you’re mentioned at least once every time. and you, as we’ve discussed, do seem to hold some care towards him, to the extent that you first concern is his health.”

your heart aches and you hate it. it’s a terrible, void sensation that frustrates you to no end. why? why did childe have to make it so difficult for you? why can’t you ever feel simple feelings when it came to him? why couldn’t you ever just feel one way towards him with no smaller part of your brain saying something else? even worse, why couldn’t your brain ever think about anything else— literally anything, instead of just constantly orbiting around the mixed emotions you felt when it came to childe?

you just constantly, restlessly and unendingly seem to care about him.

“you know what, mr. zhongli, i think y—“

“ah, there you are, sergeant!”

a less familiar voice calls out from behind you and you turn around with a bit of surprise— it’s a man clad in fatui uniform, who you recognize as mikhail, one of the officers stationed at northland bank. he’s not exactly someone you interact much with, just a mere coworker you greet every other morning, so you’re perplexed as to why he’s seeking you outside the bank.

“mikhail, what is the occasion?” you ask, briefly eyeing zhongli to find that he remains with a neutral expression awaiting the exchange.

“i am deeply sorry for interrupting your lunch, sergeant, but ekaterina urged for me to find you as soon as i could. a letter has come in from lord dottore for you specifically— she says it is of utmost importance.”

—

the wharf is unusually crowded today.

an untimely flux of either tourists or returning immigrant citizens, perhaps it is an important time of year in another nation— although, childe could truly care less at the moment. he’s doing his best to politely push his way through the sea of people leaving their respective ships while almost unconsciously seeking you out within it. he knows you wouldn’t be here, as his return to liyue was unannounced, but his eyes fly to latch onto your likeness anyway.

childe ends up finding you right in the center of the harbor’s main street, practically right below the catwalks that lead to the bank. you’re slowly pacing back and forth, a piece of paper clutched in your hands and a vacant expression on your face— childe can’t find himself to clutch to those details right now, he just needs to get to your side. he makes large, determined steps towards you, big grin invading his features, and while he’s still approaching you, you spot him and your eyes widen even more. once childe is a mere two steps away from you, he stops.

“y/n! oh, it’s so good to see you!” he heaves out gladly.

“ajax—“ you reply in a quiet voice and his heart swells at the use of his real name. he truly can’t contain himself anymore and tackles you into a tight hug, one so strong that stumble back a bit.

his arms snake tightly from under your arms to above your shoulders and his head lowers from being against your own to reaching your shoulder blade— it is as close as he physically get to you, while trying to be respectful of your space, of course. you’re still in shock for maybe five seconds of the hug, but eventually you just let yourself slowly wrap around him and squeeze ever so slightly. both of you have your eyes closed to sink into the moment.

the hug is long, maybe twenty seconds so, and as childe becomes satisfied with its duration and pulls away, he remains with his hands to your elbows in a gentle hold. he sighs with said satisfaction and beams towards you.

“i have so much to tell you about inazuma! unfortunately, i couldn’t find scaramouche there but i managed to see so many beautiful places, so many amazing experie- wait.. what’s wrong?”

the harbinger pauses mid sentence when he notices the numbness in your expression and his bright grin falls into a concerned frown— you feel like the most terrible person for making him lose such excitement. your mouth opens and closes as you find what to say, but you eventually whisper it out.

“ajax, i-i… i have to go to sumeru.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact fic #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe fic #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia genshin impact #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia fic #childe tartaglia #childe genshin #childe genshin impact

[eepyuii]

erm….. if i wrote a luke castellan fic would u guys still love me? 👉👈

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #the brainrot is consuming me im so sorry #but u can’t say im not keeping up my trend of liking morally ambiguous characters eh? (CROWD STARTS BOOING)

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 9

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; direct mentions of cuts, injuries, blood and torture (dottore is mentioned so of course this comes with him), panic attacks

notes ; ANOTHA ONE‼️ yes that’s right bitches, i wrote up another fweaking chapter in between the time of the last one i published, HA

also, i’m really sorry for the sudden content warnings after the last few chapters having nothing LOL, i wanted to give a bit of backstory on how the reader feels towards dottore and what they’ve been thru with him and it’s,, a little messed up

finally, i know i was bragging about writing a chapter so fast but it’s partially because im going on a 3 day field trip this week and i didn’t want the days i don’t write to snowball like they did b4, and i also really liked writing this one!

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“from this day forward, you will honor the oaths you have made to her majesty the tsaritsa and you will stop at nothing to bring snezhnaya victory.”

zapolyarny palace always seemed to have a periwinkle glow to it. no matter how early or late in the day it was, the light from outside always shined the same shade, as if the entire atmosphere of the palace was in a different plane. but it wasn’t only the lighting- it was also the air, the chillingly still air, and the way any and every sound made inside the ceremonial chapel seemed to bounce and echo eternally, as if the structure of the building extended endlessly unto the ends of the reality.

being here made you feel choked.

lines upon lines of nervous recruits, stood still as perfectly as ice sculptures, as the harbinger on the pedestal spoke the words of the fatui initiation. the doctor, under his corvine mask, seemed entirely uninterested in his own speech, like it was only an unnecessary formality- which, in his defense, was exactly that. in fact, nobody in this room seemed like they wanted to be there, creating the most uncomfortable stillness possible. your right arm was also starting to ache from being held up across your chest for so long, fist tight over your heart.

thankfully, it was over before you could even realize. your fellow recruits scattered to leave the chapel, whispering to each other about how excited they were to finally be officiated officers. you don’t understand how they could ever be excited about this. eventually, you were the only remaining recruit in the chapel, staring into the ground as you were lost in your thoughts. so much so that you didn’t notice the doctor was still there too.

“you.”

the deep, emotionless voice you’d been already hearing speak for over half an hour now rang out in the empty chapel. instantaneously, your head jumped upwards to face the harbinger with a fearful gaze.

“you were the top student of the medical field, were you not?”

you nodded shakily.

“come. you’ll show me why you deserve to be here.”

you follow the doctor’s imposing statute around aimlessly as he leads you through dizzying hallways, until you reach a wide, dark room. light in the room is minimal and you could tell there’s several other people inside, even if you can’t decipher their features. the doctor shuts the door behind you and you hear a lever being pulled, the lights turn on soon after with an electrical hum. your skin chills as you’re finally able to see the other people- they’re all dottore. in all sorts of ages and likenesses, all of the presences in the room look exactly like dottore.

all the same light blue hair and uncaring scarlet eyes.

“omega. you’re back. is this the subject of the next operation?” one of them utters out into the empty room and you feel the weight of several gazes on you.

operation? you brush aside your bewilderment at the multiple dottores to truly take in your surroundings. the large room seems to be made of entirely different materials from the rest of the palace, like it was added to the building at a later date- it’s covered in metal plates bolted onto each other full of buttons and levers, the lackluster furniture is to match. in between the metal plates that consist the every surface of the room, there are thin, grated tubes with some sort of yellow, glowing energy flowing to and fro, it seems to be what powers the technology of the room. there’s several different cork boards practically drowning in scribbled papers and blueprints, bookshelves upon bookshelves full of thick dusty books and glass jars with either dubious substances or varied organisms floating in a transparent concoction. finally, at the very center of the room is a metal surgical table, attached to the tabletop are leather straps, as well as a small cart with seemingly medical tools on it. it’s truly undeniable where you are.

dottore’s laboratory.

and worse of all, it seems like a surgery was at hand. the doctor who escorted you here, apparently omega, orders one of his… clones to ‘fetch the subject’. one of them follows suit and clicks one of the buttons, soon after the surgical table starts to lower into the ground, like it’s on a lift. some minutes pass in total silence as the table remains disappeared and it’s in that time that you notice how violently your heart is beating, you’re not sure if you’ll die in the next proceedings but it certainly feels like it. finally the mechanical whirr of the lift returns to your earshot, it seems like the table is back.

unfortunately, along with the whirr, you hear terrified sobs.

your heart practically drops to your feet when the surgical table is within view again with a man on it. his chest heaves up and down rapidly with his cries and whimpers, his clothes torn and bloodstained. there’s a shove at your back and you stumble into the center, where the man is. another mechanical sound behind you and you turn to see all the dottores gathered to watch you, only they’re separated from you by metal railings that weren’t there when you walked in. within all of the stabbing gazes of the dottore adjacents, you catch omega’s eyes, who seem the most unfeeling and calculating of them all. every single one of them watch you like predators.

“you wanted to be a medic, didn’t you? well, heal.”

this has to be a nightmare, but why aren’t you waking up? the man’s sobs are incessant, like he physically can’t stop. gathering the smallest sliver of bravery, you turn back to the table and examine his situation. his outfit is practically ragged beyond recognition, but within what you can still see of it, you spot the fatui logo on his sleeve- this was a fatui officer. though more glaringly than that, are the cuts, bruises and pricks that seem to litter every inch of his body, all clearly intentional and strategized and oozing a scarlet shade that burned into your eyes. he was experimented on.

your hands shake almost beyond motor control, but you still get to work.

—

scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing.

the crimson specks gradually start fading from your hands, turning the sink water a translucent pink. you scrub and scrub and scrub, every surface and every crevice of your skin and it doesn’t seem to be enough. you scrub away the sounds of the man’s screams, his visceral reactions, but it’s not enough. you scrub away the image of the impossibly precise cuts on his skin, the ones you were supposed to treat, but it’s not enough. you try to scrub the doctor’s answer when you asked him ‘who was that man?’, but it’s not enough.

‘my last assistant’ he said.

your hands sting and you flinch, snapping from your brief spiral. there’s no sign of the blood anymore, the water is clear again. you know it’s completely clear because when the tears fall from your eyes and down into the sink, they join the water below seamlessly. you hear footsteps approaching you from the hall, somebody’s coming to the bathroom. you scurry to leave the bathroom, aggressively wiping your eyes to rid your skin of any wetness that might show you to be weak.

your wishes to escape this wretched day are unheard, as instead of leaving the bathroom done and dusted- you bump into the very person you heard approaching, because why wouldn’t that happen now. and why wouldn’t said person be none other than the eleventh harbinger himself.

“hey, be more careful wh- wait…” childe starts off his sentence with a warning, stoic demeanor, though it melts away quickly once he gets another glance at you. he seems to entirely pause to take in every little detail of your appearance before him, while you do your best to look off to the side and possibly hide the newly incoming tears in your eyes.

“y-y/n..? is that you?”

that’s it. you can’t take anything anymore today, it’s been too much. with that said, you simply turn on your heel and start walking away, not a word or look given to childe.

“y/n, wait!”

“y/n!”

“y/n? are you okay?”

you blink and you’re back at lingju pass, facing the entrance of the ruin guard research lab. this time, it’s paimon who checks on you, her small hand set on your shoulder and a mildly worried look on her face. you nod and give her a tight lipped smile, which she buys and turns to childe.

“here we are- welcome to liyue’s institute of toy research!” he gestures.

“yeah, we’re here! i can already hear the sounds of machinery inside, awesome!” teucer exclaims, nearly buzzing with excitement.

what he says is no lie either, from where you stand in the entrance of the- err… institute, you can already hear muffled hums and whirrs of the machines. they’re sounds all too familiar to you, but ones you don’t miss.

“what is this place? and how do you know about it?” paimon turns to childe.

“according to y/n, this is one of dottore’s research facilities.” childe looks over to you, letting you take the stage to answer in depth. you nod curtly.

“dottore is another one of the fatui harbingers and.. my direct superior, i’m technically his assistant. since before i ever even came close to meeting the doctor, he’s always had a passion for old technology and tinkering with it and so he converted these old ruins into a research lab dedicated to this.”

“huh? so the ruin guards are built by the fatui?!” asks paimon.

“well, no. they’re supposedly more related to the abyss- in fact, perhaps if it weren’t for the doctor’s particular interest in them, we’d likely be more opposed to them. so instead, we simply research them.”

your gaze is diverted towards another part of the distance in the ruins of lingju pass, where a ruin guard you’d previously spotted still sits inactive.

“..as to why these ruin guards have decided to up and roam about here, i received a letter earlier this morning from the doctor himself asking me to come by this facility to check in on it, as he decided to merely abandon it without shutting it down after he became uninterested in it- that’s why i ran into you guys here. and to add, this isn’t his only lab either, he has other minor facilities in other regions.”

“wow, yet another harbinger with a bad attitude!” paimon shakes her head disapprovingly and you can’t help but snort at her comment.

“but at least that explains why you were totally okay with bringing teucer here. we’ve got someone who’s qualified and knowledgeable on these things.”

childe nods wholeheartedly, with a grin that only exudes… pride? like he’s proud of the way paimon describes you, or at least proud of your trustworthiness in this situation- like he fully trusts that things will go swimmingly with you there. it’s something like that, but you can’t decipher what seems to be more probable. it’s not fully factual either and you scoff.

“i-i can hardly be called qualified or knowledgeable, i only know enough to navigate around them from my experiences with dottore. i don’t even know what this place looks like on the inside.”

“yeah, me neither.” childe adds.

paimon’s eyes widen. “w-wait, so… are you or are you not worried about your brother’s safety?!”

“of course i am.. but no matter what the danger is, i will parry it. isn’t that what any older brother would do?”

tiny footsteps are heard near you.

“what’re you guys chatting about? come on, let’s go inside!”

“ahah.. alright alright.”

you all finally head inside- the moment you fully walk in, it’s like a pang of the most bone-chilling familiarity hits you. the facility is built the same way as dottore’s lab in zapolyarny palace, which in itself is unsurprising, but it still manages to make you freeze in your steps. you can’t move. your vision clouds and you’re back in front of the operation table, tons of eyes scrutinizing your every move, blood on your hands, screams in your ears, you can’t breathe-

there’s a hand on your shoulder.

in your haze, you’re half expecting the hand to be omega dottore’s, as he’s readying to reprimand you for whatever mistake you might’ve committed and to make sure you’re never seen again. but instead, it’s childe there and his expression is nowhere near what dottore seems to bear on his own face every day, disapproving and diminishing- no, childe looks worried for you. not just worried but also… like he means to assure you that it’s okay, that he knows how you must be feeling and that it’ll all be okay now. you choose to believe him.

unfortunately, while the two of you were distracted back at the entrance, teucer decided to run up ahead into a room full of ruin graders with a door that shut behind him. the remaining four of you scurry to find another way inside and after figuring out some puzzles and intricacies, you manage to open the door for teucer. you’re still forced to go through more puzzles and inconvenient paths, even through lasers, before you’re able to meet with teucer again, who’s immediately interested in the next room over full of ruin guards.

“now, how about a little game of hide-and-seek?” proposes childe.

“uh.. now? but…”

“heh, i have a surprise for you, y’know.”

teucer’s interested is immediately piqued. “a surprise! what sort of surprise?”

“don’t worry, you’ll have the chance to look for it later. but before that, you just have to close your eyes, turn around and count down from sixty.”

“okay… sixty is a really long time, though.” the boy follows suit, albeit begrudgingly.

childe calls the rest of you to clear the ruin guards that are just waiting to activate and pummel you inside the room, while teucer still yells the numbers obliviously. however, these particular ruin guards prove to be unexpectedly tougher than the others and childe manages to take down the last one with little time on teucer’s countdown. as if to make his life harder, the conveyor belts in the room roll in a new group of the damned machines to attack. you and the traveler are already backing into defensive stances in front of teucer.

“three… two… one… okay, you ready?”

“give me another ten seconds, teucer. still hiding…” childe drawls to his unsuspecting brother while his dual blades charge up with more hydro energy and the ruin guards stomp ever closer.

you’re on the verge of a heart attack, throwing childe a panicked look as you pull out your own polearm, though still focusing on shielding teucer. the cheeky bastard only chuckles sheepishly while a mechanical fist is about to slam on him- the next second is blinded by a purple flash and you spot the monstrous stature of foul legacy in between the robots. if you weren’t so distressed, focused on protecting the kid in the room and in the amidst of a ruin guard attack, you’d be reprimanding him for resorting to the transformation after he explicitly said how much it strains him. he valiantly takes down all of the machines on his own and they fall defeatedly with dust settling in between them, while teucer is on the verge of finishing the extra ten seconds.

“..one… coming, ready or not!” teucer uncovers his eyes and turns around. for a moment, you’re afraid of him seeing foul legacy, but instead you watch his eyes brighten like never before and he runs up to the arrangement of full-scale mr. cyclopses on display for him- childe nowhere to be found.

you watch over him as he plays around and looks for his brother, fond grin overtaking your expression..

“this.. this is everything i’ve ever dreamed of! it’s mr. cyclops world!”

“isn’t it amazing, teuce’?!” you happily exclaim back.

“mhm… boy if these mr. cyclopses weren’t so big, i’d sure love to take one home.”

the traveler and paimon encourage teucer to actually go look for his brother, something he’d entirely forgotten about in his sheer joy and he scoots off elsewhere. purely by accident, you spot parts of a slumped figure from your peripheral vision and run over before you can even think to do so, the two travelers following suit. childe looks the weakest you’ve ever seen him- chest heaving, eyes unfocused, limbs loose. he looks up at you with all the strength he can muster to move his head up to do so and sighs in relief.

“it’s a good thing you three found me first… looks like using the foul legacy transformation while i was still somewhat injured took more out of me than i’d thought…”

you have half the mind to nag at him about it, but you remain silent.

“i’ve no idea what i’d do if teucer saw me like this. look at me, deflated as a burst balloon..” he mutters out shamefully.

“i hope this was worth undoing all my work.” you quip with playful seriousness.

“like i said, i can never pass up on an opportunity to test my limits… and that’s why i, tartaglia, am always getting stronger, heh. anyway, childhood dreams are all too easily shattered. even if you just leave them be, they will fall to pieces all by themselves. so someone has to protect them, right?”

the weight of his words settles into your chest and weighs it down along with it. you know now that both of you were direct victims of this- both at the same time but from different perspectives. your childhood innocence died when ajax disappeared, your dreams shattered when he came back ignoring you. ajax’s entire old self was killed by his new one in the abyss, when he had to learn to be a killer to survive. it doesn’t take two seconds to realize that the last thing he’d ever what was for his little brother to go what he went through. so maybe tearing the stitches you made on him was for a better cause after all.

“if you make a promise, you keep it. if you make a mistake, you apologize.. and if you give someone a dream, you defend it to the end. that is what family is all about, isn’t it?”

“quit the tough guy act already! you need to get treated right away, mister!” paimon reprimands childe, you think that if he wasn’t already too injured she’d add a flick to his forehead as well.

“don’t have to tell me twice.” you add.

“a fine suggestion, but first.. i have a little something for teucer. please give it to him on my behalf.”

childe fabricates a small mr. cyclops action figure from his pocket, explaining that he had it smithed some time ago, intending to give it to teucer whenever he returned to snezhnaya next. he asks the traveler and paimon to explain his absence to his brother, to which the traveler humorously responds with the classic pinky promise rhyme of your childhood, very clearly learned from teucer. they soon leave you and childe alone.

you sigh, rubbing your hands preparedly. “alright, pretty boy, let’s sit you back down before you pass out standing and make this harder for the both of us.”

childe, in the midst of complying with you, chokes on

his breath and halts his movements at the nickname.

“p-pretty boy?”

“that’s what the treasure hoarders called you, right?”

“ahahah… i guess so..”

once you crouch to his level, you spot a flush on his cheeks- seems like he might run a fever soon as well, better act fast. a light blue glow emanates from your hands as you conjure your cryo abilities, only this time with the intent to heal instead of attack. you hover your energy-filled hands all over childe’s body, though never touching him. after some cycling, he visibly untenses and regulates his breathing, a subconscious sigh of relaxation escaping his lips.

you wipe your hands and plop down next to him on the ground, turning to face his weak, shut-eye self.

“alright, i’ll stop being bitchy, you did incredibly well today. you’re a good brother and… and i-i’m proud of you for it, teucer’s a lucky kid.”

childe snickers weakly and mumbles the quietest ‘thank.. you..’. analyzing his demeanor, you can tell he’ll fall asleep any second- so better to admit vulnerabilities now than any other time, right?

“a-and, um… thank you also for, i don’t know, keeping me grounded back there? it’s probably very obvious that the doctor and i aren’t exactly the best of friends and this entire place just… reeked of him. but you noticed that and you helped me, so thank you.” you’re fidgeting to keep your head from dwelling on the matter.

there’s a sudden weight on your shoulder, though not like a reassuring hand. instead when you turn to see what it is, you’re met with the top of a head of ginger hair. you don’t know how to feel about it for a few seconds, but then you remember childe must be exhausted from everything today- so you do nothing about it. with slow, careful movements, you lean your own head down to rest on the top of his and the two of you remain in that position in silence.

“…come back with me…” whispers a rough voice.

“what?”

“when i go back to snezhnaya… come back with me. please..”

“…okay.”

you shut your eyes too.

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe fic #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x y/n #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia genshin impact #tartaglia imagines #childe tartaglia #childe genshin #childe genshin impact #tartaglia genshin impact #genshin fic #genshin impact imagines

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 8

pairing ; childe x gender neutral! reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none

notes ; listen guys. i can explain. rly tho, i’ve been horribly busy with school stuff and for a long time i wasn’t rly inspired to write but i got SOME free time now and managed to finish this bad boy up!

sadly, kind of a boring chapter imo, just a LOT of continuing childe’s story quest. i’ve mentioned a bunch of times before how i hate writing by the quest dialogue and how tedious it is and i believe that’s partially why i couldn’t continue writing for a bit. anyway, i promise i’ll try to get the next chapter out sooner as next chapter WILL have some things i’m looking forward to writing LOL

previous | next | masterlist

the bright high noon sun shines against the blades of grass in the hills of qingxu pool, making the greenery seem like shards of vibrant emerald. the very same sun, unfortunately, nearly causes you to melt right then and there- with impossible steep peaks to cross and a whole child in your arms to carry. teucer had fallen asleep in your arms somewhere along the trip and he still snores soundly as you round up to the location childe had referred to earlier and where you immediately spot him, as well as some other men.

“found him! there’s childe!” paimon exclaims as she floats on ahead, effectively waking up teucer at the mention. he tries to move around and gather in his surroundings within your hold, sleepy eyes adjusting to the light once more.

as you get closer to the group, you find that the men childe is speaking to are… treasure hoarders. and it certainly didn’t look like the friendliest of exchanges, some kind debt collecting that lunatic does. you hear half of a taunt coming from childe when you approach earshot.

“…i suppose i should forgive you country bumpkins for your ignorance, for i am-“

“brother!” teucer yells excitedly and the harbinger freezes in his tracks the next second.

“you’re selling them toys, aren’t you, brother? that’s so cool, i’ve always wanted to watch you work!”

childe stammers. “w-why yes, of course! for i am, uh…

…the greatest toy salesman in snezhnaya!”

oh, for the tsaritsa’s sake. this time, you truly cannot fight the involuntary reaction within your muscles to facepalm at his half-assed save, if you can even call it that. though, what makes it worse is when he raises his fists triumphantly, clapping as if there was nothing wrong with what he said.

“so cool!”

“…huh?” says one of the treasure hoarders.

“you playin’ games, pretty boy?” goes another and you snort at the nickname.

“so, will you buy, or not? the toys that snezhnaya produced three months ago will run you.. yes, six hundred thousand mora- to be paid in full.”

another treasure hoarder chokes on his breath. “t-toys..? a-and how much mora…?”

“wow, is that what it’s gonna cost to fix that head of yours?”

the three hoarders bark out in mocking laughter. childe doesn’t seem to be dissuaded in the slightest, in fact his eyes drop into a lethally serious glare.

“i’ll say it again- toys from snezhnaya. three months prior. six hundred thousand mora. paid in full.”

“yeah… no, sorry, salesboy. the same joke isn’t funny twice. or were you always cruisin’ for a bruisin’?”

the harbinger sighs. “alright then, i’ll make things a little easier for you- i’ll join the treasure hoarders. perhaps you’ll be more willing to pay when we’re brothers-in-arms?”

you frown, slightly skeptical of childe’s methods of negotiation. however, you know better than anyone that childe, for all that he seems, is not an idiot. he’s just as aware of the means as he is of the ends and he wouldn’t be making statements like those with such certainty for nothing.

“hah- would you listen t’yourself?! you think we just let any old person into the treasure hoarders? i’m not so sure you could hack it…”

“heh, well then, why don’t you put me to the test, dear seniors? i like to think of myself as quite talented in the field of treasure hunting.”

“hmm.. looks like you’re not gonna pack it up until someone packs you in. alright then, show us what you got.”

the leading treasure hoarder proceeds with the proposition of a challenge where childe would have to collect some loot on a nearby hill within a time limit set by them. while you could see the hill from where you were, it was impossibly far to reach on foot in such a short amount of time. a tinge of worry creeps into the back of your neck and you shoot childe a concerned look, which he receives like he’s perfectly understood your silent doubts.

in return, he only cheekily winks to you and takes off.

he expertly uses the powerful gusts of wind shooting nearby to cut the path toward the hill in short and before you can even think of keeping track of his movements, he’s back with a small chest in hand- nonchalantly brushing dust off his uniform.

“well, i have the goods, here you go. so how’d i do? pretty well, i’d say.” childe smirks.

one of the other treasure hoarders starts sweating and whispers worryingly over to his fellow bandit. the leader turns back to childe, somewhat containing his shock.

“please… hold on a moment, sir. we need to discuss something amongst ourselves.”

the three turn to a small circle, where they mutter back and forth to each other, unintelligibly to you. periodically, one of the hoarders throws childe a quick, fearful look to ensure that he’s not becoming impatient- lest something freakier than his show of inhuman speed happens. finally, the leader turns back.

“so, mister.. salesman. my apologies but we can’t have you joining us.”

“oh? i didn’t pass? i must say i never imagined that the treasure hoarders would have such strict entry requirements…” childe replies unimpressed.

“no, i-it’s not that- ..what we mean is you’re too big a fish for our little pond. but we fully understand the situation with the uh… toys, sir. we’ll fetch that six hundred thousand mora for you right away.”

you scoff, shaking your head incredulously at how… somehow childe managed to get his way with such a ridiculous front to impress his brother. teucer, on the other hand, could not be happier with the outcome.

“that’s my brother for you! toy sellers are so cool!”

some rustling of grass from behind you grabs your attention and you instinctively tense your shoulders, hand ready and reaching out towards teucer if you had to protect him from an unexpected ambush by the sour treasure hoarders. fortunately, the arriving individual turns out to be a familiar fatui employee, felix. he recognizes your presence with a curt bow-like gesture before directing himself towards the harbinger.

“ah, master childe, you’re here. a new batch of fresh recruits have just-“

“hey now, keep your voice down. can’t you see i’m entertaining some clients over here?”

“clients? well uh… the motherland has dispatched a new batch of recruits to liyue. they’ve just arrived and i’m afraid we must ask you to speak to them.”

“ugh, do i have to? now is hardly the best time…”

you decide to interject with a suggestion. “couldn’t signora give them the initiation? she’s also an acting superior here in liyue.”

felix shakes his head. “i’m afraid the fair lady has already returned to the palace to attend to other affairs.”

dammit, you really couldn’t keep track of that woman. both you and childe seem to simultaneously deflate slightly at the news, as if you’d both imagined at the same time how hard it’d be to keep teucer satisfied and ignorant towards the truth with so many predicaments.

“i truly must apologize for troubling you, master childe, but they are already waiting for you south of lingju pass. every new batch of recruits must be baptized by the tsaritsa’s will through the words of her harbingers. this has always been our rule.”

childe groans and rolls his eyes petulantly.

“well, alright then, i’ll go. just give me a moment to catch up with my brother and i’ll be right with you.”

“do you have to keep working?” teucer finally speaks up, with his saddened tone from earlier returning.

“yes teucer, we have a group of new toy sellers fresh from the motherland and i need to go teach them the ropes.”

“that’s great! when i grow up, i wanna be a toy seller too. can i go listen?”

you stammer to answer quickly. “ah- maybe not now, teuce’. you’re still a little too young for that, bud.”

childe nods in agreement. “besides, most of it is rather boring. why don’t you go play with y/n and the traveler instead? sound good?”

teucer shoots out the most impossibly heart wrenching combo of big eyes and a pout towards his brother. “b-but.. but…”

“i really do have to go, teucer. a lot of people are waiting to see me. i’ll see you around, alright?”

the boy sighs melancholically and for a moment you do understand his side of the situation, but again you’re reminded of the harsh reality of the fatui and how hard it must be, no- how hard it has been to keep such a young, adventurous kid oblivious to all of it. it truly has not been easy for childe for his little brother to show up so absurdly unannounced.

the traveler and paimon are a few feet away, whispering to each other while teucer still sulks, and you catch a bit of their conversation.

“to think he’d go this far just to prevent his family from seeing his… dark side.”

“i wonder how much longer he can hide it from teucer…” the traveler responds.

“paimon wonders too. but hey, let’s at least help him

out while we’re out in liyue…

wait- where’s teucer?”

panic shoots up your spine chillingly and you turn around to where he just was, to find nothing. the few seconds you’d kept your eye off him he disappears. you scan the grasslands for teucer almost involuntarily, but no sign of him at all.

“ugh.. we were too busy chatting! where’d he go?”

you sigh frustratedly and stomp down the hill, eyes still vigilant. “dammit, i shouldn’t have taken my eyes off of him while he was still upset. not even for one second… of course he’s going after childe.”

—

“…from this day forward, you will honor the oaths you have made to her majesty the tsaritsa and you will stop at nothing to bring snezhnaya victory.”

you can still taste the very same oath you swore years ago on your tongue. you still remember how tense your shoulders stayed and shaky the fist held to your heart was, how harsh and vile the words of the fatui initiation sounded coming out of dottore’s mouth. and now, they sound just as sharp coming from childe- you find that it gives you an unpleasant feeling in your chest.

teucer and childe, and consequently the new recruits, were not at all hard to find. you approach the gathering to see teucer propped up on a nearby rock, head held in his hands as he attentively watched the ceremony. you truly wish you’d kept your eye on teucer before and stopped him from coming here. it’s hard to be reminded of childe’s cold and devoted demeanor when it came to the tsaritsa- though, cold and devoted is what you could call any of her followers.

for some reason, the occasion causes you to pause and watch a bit of the procedure yourself, but you don’t focus on how intense the harbinger’s words are, nor on how the recruits react to it. no, instead you focus on childe’s scars.

they’re so evenly distributed throughout his body, or at least what you can see of it, that it almost seems intentional. at any other time, you would’ve thought them to be artistic and beautif- but err, uhm… but now they only look like glaring reminders of childe’s nature as the tsaritsa’s weapon of war. you’ve always thought that was a baffling title to have.

you notice teucer stand up to wave to his brother in the distance.

“…for the trials that we face are harsh, and the enemies are like- ..ehm,”

childe also looks over to where you were at that very second, catching onto teucer’s excited movements. his eyes asses your group, then they trail over to you and the seconds where your eyes meet seems to last longer than it should- there’s a shocked shift in his gaze and it’s then that you realize you’d been frowning this whole time. the harbinger then regards his brother’s presence and he stutters on his sentence.

“a-ahem, like… kites a-and rattle drums.. who shall become redoubtable foes of mr. cyclops in the marketplaces of liyue..!”

you hear teucer approve of his message right next to you, although the recruits don’t seem entirely sold.

“this is, of course, an analogy. as they say, ‘the marketplace, too, is a battlefield.’”

nobody says that.

“so, as your… sales manager here in liyue, i demand that you obey my every order! a refusal shall be considered a betrayal, and the price for betrayal is to be dishonorably discharged from.. a-ahem, the institute of toy research.”

this time, he can’t stupidly get away with this, as both teucer and the recruits seem queasy about the statement- much to childe’s dismay. he looks down for a moment as if to consider his options and shoots up again.

“eh.. uh… forget it! perhaps a round of hands-on training will suit us better!”

just how in teyvat is this guy your superior?

as if everything could not become any more absurd, childe’s proposal seemed to utterly please the new recruits- they whisper and rave to each other about the huge honor that it would be to fight with the eleventh harbinger. you could see the duels’ ends before they even began, with all of these poor newbies licking the dirt as they’re kicked into ground by childe with minimal effort.

just as expected, it’s over rather quickly- though the recruits do hold up their own for longer than you anticipated against someone like childe.

“well then, do you all understand what i said earlier?” childe interrogates with nonchalant confidence, as if he wasn’t slipping up and stumbling on his own words earlier.

“yes, sir!” the recruits heave out exhaustedly.

“excellent, and you all almost managed to get me limbered up. in other words, you’ve done well- for new recruits.”

“thank you, lord harbinger!”

childe gives the recruits some more encouragement before dismissing them as soon as possible. once they take off, teucer takes the opportunity to run up and tell his brother how amazing he was just then.

“teucer- what in the world are you doing here? there i was thinking that these three had taken you to play at wangshu inn, aha!” childe says, the latter sentence is pointed, much like his subtle glare up at the three of you.

“you really did get stronger.” the traveler admits with dignity and childe’s ego, as if it hadn’t been inflated enough by the drooling recruits just now, seems to swell.

“hah, i told you, didn’t it? i never pass on an opportunity to improve my strength. i’m not the

man i was when we first met.”

“you didn’t go all out, though.” she teases.

“by that, i assume you mean i didn’t use foul legacy transformation, yes?”

“it puts a great strain on my body, so it’s best saved for crucial moments.”

your eyes lower into a warning glare, thought playful one. “as if i’d ever let you use it in a situation like this.”

childe laughs with his full chest, amused at your quip.

“ahaha! yes, that much is true. if it hadn’t been for y/n’s medical prowess, i’d still be ways in recovery from the injuries i sustained back at the golden house. and they wouldn’t be a very good medic if they just let me slow down my own healing process, now, would they?”

you two share a knowing look and you give him an approving nod- and as everyone follows suit to look over to you, you fold your arms and pose out proudly, fully drinking up the praise towards your skill.

“anyway, i’m no signora. i don’t use lethal force against recruits, come on now…”

teucer scratches his chin in confusion. “the foul legacy transformation? does it make you stronger than mr. cyclops?”

“ahah… you could say that.” paimon laughs awkwardly.

“i wanna learn how to fight too! i wanna be cool like you!”

“now teucer, fighting isn’t about looking cool. you can only continue to get stronger if you know the reason why you’re fighting.” childe gestures to his younger brother in a lecturing manner.

“i can teach you. but think carefully first- why do you want to fight?”

“i…”

“hm?”

“..i want to protect sister tonia.”

the breath is taken from your chest for a moment. you don’t know what exactly you were expecting teucer’s answer to be but it was certainly not that. it’s so noble and honest and so… ajax, in a sense. you can’t describe what it is, but it sends you back to the times where you and ajax would have late-night deep talks inside pillow forts, whenever he slept over at your house. you’d deliberate about your lives and ambitions and you’d hear ajax express how much he aspired to become like the heroes in his father’s tales. courageous and selfless, so he could brace his fears and protect his loved ones. it’s uncertain if childe recalls the same memory as you, but he’s just as visibly pleased with teucer’s answer.

he pats the younger boy on the top of his head tenderly. “that’s a good answer teucer. when i return to snezhnaya, i will start teaching you fighting techniques.

then, you’ll have to protect tonia for me- how does that sound?”

“hehe, leave it to me!”

“you’ve had a nice long time here in liyue, haven’t you? isn’t it about time you took the boat back home?”

teucer pouts. “but, but… but you’ve been so busy, and we didn’t get any time to play together yet..”

“teucer, you know i’m very busy at work.. and hasn’t it been fun traveling all over the place with y/n and two proper travelers?”

you can tell childe feels like he hasn’t spent enough time with his brother either, but his worry about keeping up the toy seller appearance to protect teucer overcomes him. today has been nothing but close calls for him.

“w-well, how ‘bout this? if you just do one little thing for me, i’ll be a good boy and go back home!”

“oh dear, who taught this little devil to bargain.. alright, what’ll it be?” childe chuckles.

“take me to visit the institute of toy research!”

what? surely he doesn’t mean the research lab… once again, childe seems to have the same thought as you and you take the opportunity to throw him an incredulous, threatening look- as if to tell him ‘this might be your most gods awful idea yet if you take him there..’, but seemingly to no avail.

“done deal. after all, you’ve come all this way for me, teucer…”

childe persuades the traveler and paimon into taking teucer back to the facility at lingju pass and they take off soon after. you decide to stay behind and hopefully steer the harbinger away from the idea and he only faces you in waiting, like he already expects you to reprimand him. you cross your arms disappointedly and sigh.

“you know what i’m about to say to you, right?”

“hm, i might have an idea or two but just-“

“childe, that’s not just some abandoned facility for tourists to frolic inside- it’s dottore’s research lab and it’s active! if the machines inside that place don’t crush us all the second we walk inside, then surely my boss will do worse to us if we put anything out of place. i mean, this whole ordeal started because i had to go regulate the lab, then we found teucer and had to take him elsewhere so nothing bad would happen, who in their right mind-“

two strong, gloved hands come up to hold either side of your face.

the touch is somehow firm enough to effectively shut you up and hold up your head as to fully face childe, but still gentle enough as to not hurt or startle you. the committer of the act stares you right in the eyes, a doting look is apparent on his own azure gaze.

“y/n. answer this simply, do you trust me?”

there’s a pause as you process the development of the literal last 3 seconds and think of an answer- though the distracting, fluttering sensation in your chest also factors in the time you take to actually speak.

“w-well, it’s- it’s not about trusting you or-“

“do. you. trust. me?”

another pause. you look into his eyes as deep as you can and search for anything that says that maybe there’s an off-chance you shouldn’t trust him, but there’s nothing. he’s shown himself more than capable of steering situations back in his control today and it doesn’t need to be spoken how serious he is about protecting his family, even a scratch on teucer’s cheek would be a last case scenario to him. you sigh.

“i trust you, ajax.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe fic #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia fic #childe tartaglia ajax #childe tartaglia #childe genshin impact #tartaglia genshin impact #genshin fic #childe genshin

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 7

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none

notes ; happy new year!! it’s story quest time which meaaans- its teucer town. a lot of the reader and teucer being besties and *some* tiny particles of romantic feelings (if u catch them). also just a really lighthearted and humorous chapter :3

previous | next | masterlist

three knocks.

“sergeant?”

“hm? yes, ekaterina? come in.”

the secretary steps up to your desk, where you sit pitifully, head resting on your hands. it’s been some months since osial’s attack and you’ve mysteriously remained stationed at liyue, not that you mind, of course. the traveler and paimon have long since been on their way to inazuma and, according to news you heard from all around, seem like they successfully solved the crises surrounding the electro archon and the vision hunt decree. not only has there been word on the streets of their feats but you’ve also noticed a noticeable increase in inazuman immigrants by the harbor.

but- back to the matter at hand, today you find yourself incredibly more fatigued than usual, perhaps due to your struggles with getting even a good wink of sleep the night before. the sunlight creeping through the windows seems to sting your eyes harsher than normal for early morning but you still try your best to open them and read the letter ekaterina has just placed in front of you.

noticing the strain in your efforts to, well, be awake at the moment, ekaterina clears her throat.

“it’s a mandate from the doctor himself.”

now that gets you up, though not in a good way. the sheer reminder of that man’s existence is enough to shoot an icy burn into your spine, one that makes you flinch into full consciousness.

skimming more effectively through the lines, you find that the mandate talks about a ruin guard research lab here in liyue under his guise, obviously, that he is requiring you to briefly oversee in his absence. not as bad as you thought but also not entirely good. the doctor has never presently explained his affinity for ruin guard robotics to you- because truly, why would he? but it’s no less than apparent how big his interest in them is, in your experience.

with a long, heavy sigh, you nod.

“i see. thank you, ekaterina, you may go.”

she bows politely and turns to leave while you reread the letter to gather the full details of the research lab. once ekaterina is by the door to your office, you take note of the sound of as her heels stop abruptly as she yelps in surprise, muttering a small ‘hello, master childe’ and carrying on her way. the next moment, they very devil she spoke of is bursting into the room.

“good morning, doc!” he chirps with surprising energy for how early it is and places a closed cup on your desk.

“here! i got you some coffee, thought it might help wake you up.”

“thanks a lot… wait, how did you know i was tired-“

“and with that act of courtesy, i would like to propose my own favor to be granted by yours truly. and that is for us to sp-“

“childe, i cannot spar with you today.”

with that, the harbinger slumps into himself like a fussing child, ironic, and groans softly. he’s about to try his very persuasive best to convince you anyway when he spots the letter in your hands and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“what’s that?”

you sigh again, pinching the bridge of your nose. “a mandate from dottore asking me to check up on one of his ruin guard research facilities, here in liyue.”

childe seems to empathize with your disdain for the request and scoffs, mumbling about ‘that lunatic and his little toy robots…’.

“hm, well i wish you luck with that. i’ve also got myself some less than stellar debts to collect today, might as well busy myself somehow even if ekaterina thinks i shouldn’t.”

“good luck with that too.”

childe turns to leave, slightly less chipper than he was when he walked in, until he stops by the door to turn around. “you’re still owing me a spar for that coffee!”

“whatever!”

grassy mountains, building ruins, ginkgo trees- minlin was just like any other area of liyue, though you’d never steal any merit from the relaxing scenery of the entire region. every new place you visited took your breath away with its beauty all the same.

it’s become an unspoken habit to deal with ruin guards at this point and you knew their patterned behaviors and limits like no other, maybe only the doctor himself. several of them sat inactivated in the ruins around you, as expected, and you took note of each one for your report diligently. as you’re approaching the entrance of the lab itself, you spot another ruin guard sat against a crumbled tower- except it was not the only thing there, there were people too. it’s not hard to decipher that it turns out to be the traveler and paimon and… someone else.

wait… surely it’s not him.

“teucer?”

all three of them immediately turn around, except teucer lights up at the sight of you and jumps from his crouching position to run at you with full speed. despite being perplexed at his presence, you still kneel to welcome him with open arms.

“big sibling y/n!! you’re here!!” he yells out, elated.

you chuckle fondly and stand up with teucer clung onto your torso.

“it’s good to see you too, teuce’, but… what in the heavens are you doing all the way here?”

looking over teucer’s shoulder, you turn to the other two, who look just as confused about the entire situation as you do.

“and you two as well, weren’t you supposed to be in inazuma still?”

“mm-yeah, we were taking a bit of a break! we’re on our way to sumeru next and liyue’s the shortest way there so… might as well take some leisurely time off.”

paimon elaborates, until she and the traveler share a look and the two of them sigh.

“unfortunately, the millelith asked us to check out these rui- ahem, i mean mr. cyclops showing up around this area. and as we were doing that, we ran into teucer over here!”

you breathe out a laugh, pitying the pair’s lack of… well- time to take a break without any tasks given to them. ‘talk about leisurely…’ you mutter, quiet enough so teucer doesn’t hear. speaking of him…

“that still doesn’t explain how you were here at all, mister.” you poke the boy’s side with the hand that isn’t holding him up against you and he giggles uncontrollably, attempting to dodge your finger.

“ahahahahah! s-stop! hahah… i’m here to see big brother at the institute for toy research! you work there too, right?”

what.

oh- is that what he thinks childe does? dear gods, that’s too funny. however you do understand why childe would lie about your jobs, you think you’d do much the same. still it takes everything within you to not burst out laughing at the revelation, even the traveler seems to notice so, somewhat understanding the reason but also somewhat not. you huff out a breath to calm the urge to cackle and turn to the two once again.

“listen, you guys don’t need to worry about this one anymore, i’ll take care of him. oh! and don’t worry about the- err, mr cyclops replicas, i’ll sort them out too. go take your break, you deserve it.”

“but- they’re my friends! they like toys like i do! a-and they made the pinky promise!” teucer retaliates.

gods damn the snezhnayan pinky swear.

“plus, he did give us this big bag of mora to take care of him…” paimon eyes the traveler, who returns the glance with a nod as if they’re silently communicating.

“and yeah- we’d much rather go see this ‘toy institute’ than deal with mr. cyclops right now.”

you nod in agreement and gesture for all of you to head back to the harbor, partially to avoid seeing the millelith soldiers patrolling the area.

“so- just out of curiosity, teuce’, what exactly did your brother say about me working with toys?”

“he said you’re a toy doctor! you take care of the toys who get hurt or sick.”

“yeah, that checks out.”

—

arriving back at northland bank, the first thing you spot is childe and ekaterina discussing something at the center of the room, oblivious to your presence for the moment. that is, until teucer bursts from your tired arms to run to his older brother.

paimon, somehow, remains oblivious enough to what is right in front of her enough to whisper. “huh? what’s he doing here…”

“yay, my brother! i found you!” exclaims teucer and childe immediately perks up, ceasing any doubts that paimon might’ve had.

“i know that voice… why, if it isn’t my little brother teucer! my goodness!”

the harbinger takes his younger brother into his arms, much like you did before, except he wraps him in a nearly bone crushing hug before setting him back down.

“haha.. what a nice surprise, teucer! i thought i would have to wait till i return home before seeing you again. how are the others, tonia and anthon? is everybody keeping well?”

“they miss you a lot! tonia prays for you every day at dinner.” it seems that only after teucer’s response is when the realization of the sheer absurdity that is teucer’s presence sets within childe, his face morphing into confusion.

“wait a second… what are you doing here in liyue, teucer? how have i not heard anything about this?”

that entire interaction, you remained merely watching from behind with an irrepressible fond smile on your face- you were so lost in their reunion that you almost miss the incredulous glare childe throws to you, like he’s silently asking if you had anything to do with this. you jump slightly once noticing it and quickly shrug, shaking your head to signify that you’re just as clueless as him.

“well, what happened was- i saw a boat that looked like it was selling toys, so obviously i thought you were on board. and then when i got off i just kept walking and walking… and then, i found a mr. cyclops!”

unbelievable.

“mr cyclops scared off a bad guy, and then i found this nice lady and-and then y/n found us! so we came looking for you.”

childe seems to have another moment of realization, where another fleeting glance comes your way and he sighs, facing off to the side to mouth to himself ‘of course, the research lab…’.

“teucer…” he starts off and you seem to understand what he’s about to say right away, leaving teucer’s side to be right in front of him, beside childe. you kneel to teucer’s height and hold out your hands for him to hold, to make him feel less like he’s being scolded. his tiny hands are dwarfed by yours in a way that makes your heart swell.

“…teuce’, what you did was really dangerous. we’re both happy to see you, really, but please promise you won’t do anything like this ever again.”

childe nods in agreement and teucer sighs, letting go of your hands to put them behind his back sheepishly.

“okay, i promise… please don’t be mad at me.”

“we’re not mad at you. we just care about your safety, that’s all.” childe reassures.

“if you hadn’t met these nice people, and even more if y/n hadn’t found you, things could’ve been a lot more dangerous for you, teucer. i hope you said a big thank-you to all of them?”

“yep! i always remember my please’s and thank-you’s!

“oohh so you did notice we were here… you were just ignoring us, gotcha.” paimon adds sarcastically as she and the traveler look at childe through a sassy glare.

“haha… forgive me, it’s always family first where i’m from. don’t take it personally. i know we’ve had our differences up to now but.. a few minor quibbles aside, we get on quite well, don’t you think?”

the traveler’s incredulous reaction tells you that perhaps teucer shouldn’t listen to the conversation while they sort out their, erm, quibbles- so you gently take him by the hand and lead him off ever so slightly to the side, where you know he’ll be at least distracted enough to not listen. kneeling down, you once again take his impossibly adorable hands into yours and fiddle with them playfully, he only grins in oblivious amusement.

“so, teuce’, tell me more- how’re things back home? you’re not too bored without us there, are you?”

“mm-no, i’m just fine! anthon still plays with me a bunch and tonia always reads me the letters big brother sends us, she always tells such cool stories!”

“yeah? like what?”

the young boy thinks for a moment, rubbing his chin like he’s mentally paging through the deepest, most riveting tales he can recall.

“hmm.. oh! one time she told me the story of how big brother discovered a new version of mr. cyclops! he’s bigger and.. and stronger and he’s got huge horns, like a deer! he’s like mr. cyclops' big brother.”

well, at least childe is keeping his lies somewhat accurate. but the way teucer beams and hops excitedly as he talks about the bigger mr. cyclops, or a ruin grader as you know it, seems to justify keeping him in the dark. the way his big blue eyes shine with wonder is in itself a treasure worth protecting. you’ve practically long forgotten that you’re supposed to be stalling out a conversation to distract him.

“that’s so awesome, teucer!” you grin back at him. “what other stories does your brother tell?”

“hm..- oh yeah! he also talks about you in his letters.”

oh?

“does he?” you’re unsure if you should feel good or bad about the revelation, gods know what childe says to his siblings about you.

“yeah he does! he talks about how you take such good care of the toys when they get hurt and how smart you are and how…”

suddenly, teucer trails off as he turns to the trio still conversing near you, like he’s heard something that’s caught his attention. he entirely abandons the sentence he’d left unfinished to join their side again and you find yourself feeling the smidgenmost bit disappointed that he didn’t finish speaking. you only sigh to yourself and smooth your clothes down from the crouching position you were in, joining back in as well.

“that’s right, my brother’s the greatest! he’s mr. cyclops’ bestest friend!”

childe chuckles in somewhat faux delight, to satisfy teucer and make it seem like he approves of his brother’s message, before leaning over to the traveler and whisper, as you hear it,- ‘just humor me in front of teucer, if you’d be so kind…’

“ahem- ah yes! ekaterina, i will deal with the issue of the outstanding payment right away.”

“hey! slinking off, are we?” paimon accuses.

“but, master childe, would it not be improper to ask you to deal with… debt collection?”

“a bet is a bet, isn’t it? and if you lose a bet with an agent.. well, you might as well get some exercise out of it.”

“are you going off to sell toys now?” teucer interjects, partially with admiration for his brother and partially with disappointment that he has to leave.

“that’s right. as much as i’d like to catch up a little longer, teucer, duty calls! i’m sure y/n and ms. nice lady will keep you company while i’m out, though.”

childe implies with a pleading glance thrown to you and the traveler. you nod gladly while the traveler puts her hand to her forehead momentarily and paimon mumbles a complaint about having to babysit for childe.

“sure!” teucer confirms as well. “i really like y/n and this lady already! and anyway, the nice lady made a pinky promise to take good care of me.”

the harbinger ends up leaving the four of you with a hefty bag of mora to spend out in the city while he’s working and you firstly decide to take him to an elderly lady’s kite shop. she patiently explains how to use the kites and teucer asks for a mr. cyclops shaped kite, because why wouldn’t he- you manage to convince the lady to make a custom build for it with a shining pile of mora. next, you take him to wanmin restaurant, where chef mao graciously offers to make a special dish for teucer, who can’t eat spicy food. you don’t blame him, personally- snezhnayan dishes tend to steer away from spice specifically and lean more towards warm, filling meals to endure the cold temperatures. however, the food teucer asks for turns out sickeningly sweet and even paimon, the awarded food enthusiast, feels nauseated at the end. finally, he asks you to give the wharf a better look than when he was stepping off his boat. paimon proceeds to give a mouthful of an explanation about liyue’s trade port, which ends up too confusing for teucer to even care. instead, his attention is caught by a ship anchor left in the wharf.

“teucer, don’t run off!” you urge as he takes off to see the anchor.

“that metal hook is huge! and it gets bigger the closer we get!”

“this is an anchor. docked ships use it to hold themselves in position, to stop wind and waves from blowing them away.” paimon explains.

“hmm, an anchor… got it. but i think i might get it mixed up with commodore hook.”

“commodore hook..? is that another one of your weird toy names?”

“my brother always sends me a really big toy for my birthday- commodore hook, blacksteel jack, iron tony… we keep them all in your backyard!”

“are they as big as the anchor?” the traveler asks.

“yeah, and that’s why i can’t bring them with me all the time. it’s a shame…”

you choke on your breath at a realization. “i-is that what your father was keeping under a tarp in the backyard..?”

teucer nods cluelessly. you’ve seen tarped objects behind childe’s family house that had some absurd silhouettes hidden by the protective fabric and the snow, but you’ve only ever assumed they were left over building materials- not gigantic fucking robots because why would you ever assume that’s what he’d send a child for his birthday. you’ll have to have a talk with him about gift giving at a later time.

“but my favorite is mr. cyclops. even though i mostly came here to see my brother, the other big thing i wanted to do was play with mr. cyclops! oh- are they selling fish over there, let’s have a look!”

and just like that, teucer is gone again. paimon stomps her foot in the air as she heaves frustratedly.

“quit! running! off!”

you briefly go to see the fish on display as teucer tells you of the time when childe caught him an impossibly large fish just because he asked for it. somewhere in the back of your head, you find it endearing that childe has kept up the habit of fishing just like when his father would take you on his trips to ice fish as well. maybe you could get him to go fishing in liyue, just the two of you when you have some free ti- wait, what are you saying? you’re supposed to be watching out for teucer, who conveniently has gone off to see the boats and seems to have his entire good mood flipped around.

“teuce’, you look upset, what’s wrong? are you tired?” you coo.

he sighs melancholically and covers his face behind his hands. “i miss my brother…”

“what? but we were just with him!” argues paimon.

“yea, but for such a short time that it doesn’t even count! take me to see my brother, i don’t wanna play anymore!”

you sigh and look to the other designated babysitters. they look back with defeated shrugs- seems like you’ve done what you can to entertain him for the moment. turning back to teucer, you offer to carry him in your hold as you leave for qingxu pool, where childe said he would be, and he gladly accepts. from behind you, a low gurgle can be heard.

“urgh… paimon may never recover from that dish.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartagalia genshin impact #childe fic #childe tartaglia #childe genshin #childe genshin impact

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 6

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; fighting and mentions of injuries, but nothing specific tho

notes ; happy holidays, fellow childe enjoyers!! hope you’re all having a wonderful time. this chapter feels close up-y if that makes sense but i promise there’s MUCH more to come >:3

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you see childe as faceted.

he’s childe, he’s tartaglia and he’s ajax- all at once and one at a time. he’s childe, the ruthless maniacal warrior who prioritizes strength and triumph above all else- a weapon of war. he’s tartaglia, the calculating, fake smile wearing, connection-making debt collector- a fatui harbinger. but then, he’s also ajax, a warm, family loving, hug providing and dream protecting big brother- your best friend.

you see all three of those people in him. though… the latter, not so often. he was ajax when he was at home, seeing his family and playing around with teucer, that you know, but you hadn’t seen him in morepesok in more than half a decade. no, the last time you saw him be ajax was when you were fourteen- you called him ajax for the last time when you were fourteen.

ever since then, he’s been childe.

you’ve never made the mistake to call him otherwise, because there was no mistake to be made at all. when you were in zapolyarny palace, he was childe. when you were dining in liyue, he was childe. even when you first sparred and eventually fought in the golden house, he was childe.

so why is it now when you’re faced with an entirely new being, biology indecipherable yet identity indistinguishable, that you call him ajax?

perhaps you’d like to blame it on exhaustion- you’d been fighting incessantly for whoever knows how long, fingers sore from gripping your weapon so tight and legs shaking to merely stand. or perhaps it’s the sheer confusion and inability to truly comprehend the sight before you, there’s no plausible explanation within your grasp as to why he’s even able to transform into that after all. or maybe… maybe you see too many people in him that aren’t ajax anymore.

and you’re desperate to see ajax again.

and the worst part is that you can’t even name the being before you, you can’t come up with what or who it could be within childe’s facets. the mental gymnastics happening in your brain render you frozen, limbs heavy and heart erratic- leaving you to fall motionlessly when the creature stabs his weapon into the ground and promptly shatters it. the falling rubble reveals a whole new lower floor of the golden house, one that your downturned gaze can’t help but stare into as you’re falling. as the ground seems to get closer, you shut your eyes and brace for the impact, hoping it’ll at most break just your ankles.

but the impact never arrives.

instead, you feel a tug to your sleeve that breaks the violent pull of gravity you were experiencing- it results in your feet making the gentlest contact with the ground. you assume it was paimon pulling you just in time as she floats down along the two of you, because the second you open your eyes she’s flying over to the traveler to check on her.

the sight takes away any notice of the purple flash that passes through you in the very same moment.

after a brief recovery, the two of square up for a third time as you spot a purple spark from across the settling dust of the debris. it’s centered and tall, telling you the glow is coming directly from the singular eye of the creature.

“you got to the gnosis before me, didn’t you?!” a deep, distorted, growling voice yells out, yet you can still hear a bit of childe’s own voice within it.

“did you simply move faster? or… did you leak the information regarding the golden house to me on purpose? was it you, y/n? have you been working with them from the start?!” he swings at you expertly, electro trailing after the weapon’s path while surges of water shoot up towards you at the same time.

“no matter. hand over the gnosis, now! don’t make me take it from you…”

“w-we didn’t take it!” paimon defends.

“do you hear yourself right now?! none of us could’ve taken it, it’s not here!” you add coarsely.

he doesn’t seem to hear you as he incessantly strikes and blinks away from your attacks, sending his own long ranged lightning strikes instead. both of you take several heavy hits from the creature and after some time, you feel like you’re about to collapse. you don’t have anymore energy to heal yourself, much less the traveler- yet you still push yourself to sustain her as much as you can. you think you’ve reached hallucinatory levels of exhaustion when you see… it.

an impossibly large elemental whale that surges from the ground.

it flies upward with a deafening vocalization and slams back down with waves of water. you back up as far as possible as the whale takes up the entire floor, even if you doubt that what you see is real. that very doubt is soon dispelled when you watch the traveler fall to the ground where the whale just landed, soaked in water. you panic and rush to aid her but before you even get to the traveler’s side, the creature’s large blade comes down right in front of you- it was so close that were you even an inch forward, it would’ve sliced your face clean off. the traveler gestures for you not worry about her as she get struggles to stand up and eyes the creature, who’s currently preparing a charging surge of electro and hydro, while you’re cornered.

the seconds before he strikes seem to slow down while your heart pumps inhumanely fast- your mind scatters for what to do until you look down took your feet, noticing the way the excess water ripples with your steps. your hand twitches with cryo energy and a wall of ice shoots up the next moment, extending all the way to where the traveler is still getting up. the unexpected defense catches the creature off-guard and he staggers for a moment, giving you the chance to sprint all the way out and behind him, where his starry cape floats endlessly into nothingness. you almost land your sneak attack when he suddenly seems to sense your presence and turns around just in time to retaliate.

“all you do is run!” he growls.

when he slashes his electro-charged weapon this time, you manage to catch it with the pole of your own spear, holding it away from you with all the might you’re still able to muster. movement from your peripheral vision catches your attention.

“now!” you yell.

the traveler understands perfectly and jumps to hit the creature from the back while he’s still busy pushing back against your polearm. the strike seems to be final, as the creature drops his weapon from yours and steps back, falling to his knees. another flash of purple light emits from him and suddenly, childe is in the creature’s stead once more.

he heaves weakly, head turned down defeatedly.

“ngh… well then, time to cool off.”

childe is practically spitting out the words with how much force he has to put into getting them out. “it seems the burden of the foul legacy transformation was too great on my body. i lacked the opportunity to think this through…”

foul legacy… well there’s its name. seeing childe in front of you again makes the entirety of the last few minutes seem unreal, like you woke up from a nightmare where childe was… that. like it never happened- though the sheer amount of injuries that all three of you bear prove otherwise.

“…you had no connection to the gnosis, no matter where it’d been taken.”

“that’s what we’ve been trying to tell you! we didn’t take it!” paimon urges, hands on her hips.

childe struggles to get to his feet, as if his limbs have turned to lead, once he finally gets to it, he’s still panting coarsely.

“this battle has already left me satisfied. anyone who strives as i do to grow stronger shall be called a friend, even if our friendship can only be shown in battle against one another.” with the next sentence, childe eyes you momentarily, when you try to catch his gaze back, it’s already gone- as if he’s too ashamed to actually meet your eyes in return.

“pretty sure that’s not the normal way to make friends.”

you snort. “you’re still expecting anything normal after all this?”

“unfortunately, i mus bring this amiable conversation to an end. my quest still beckons. given that the gnosis wasn’t taken by anyone, we must look to the beginning- it was never in the exuvia to begin with. in fact, it might be that the exuvia was just a diversion of sorts.”

“hm… i wonder who called that way beforehand.”

“what? so you mean that…” paimon trails off and the traveler finishes.

“…rex lapis is alive?”

you nod. “it would appear so.”

“it seems that the guardian deity of the capital of commerce is also well-versed in little maneuvers beyond the boundaries of contracts. as such, we must now look to our backup plan.”

your heart sinks.

with all the commotion, you’d nearly forgotten what you went to the golden house for to begin with. to deter childe from summoning osial. suddenly, all the tension and uneasiness from the fight creeps back into your spine and the traveler notices instantly, visibly becoming concerned herself.

“childe…” you warn.

paimon, on the other hand, remains clueless. “backup plan?”

“i had hoped it would never come to this… for the weak to be swept away in the process. the truth is, the world belongs to those who pursue strength- i seldom willingly involve myself with the weak. unfortunately, we cannot be picky about our methods as fatui harbingers, children must all learn to eat their vegetables sometimes.”

his choice of words and childish expression seems to only pour more salt into the wound- famously something you heard his mother nag him about when you were younger, which in turn you’d hear him complain about to you in private. seems like he’s more than learned to eat his vegetables and only the gods may know how much you wish he didn’t.

“so what’re you planning to do?”

“i will awaken the god that lies dormant beneath guyun stone forest.”

“a god?!” paimon exclaims.

you sigh, shamefully averting your gaze to the ground. “osial, overlord of the vortex… he was defeated by rex lapis in the archon war. he’s remained pinned beneath the geo archon’s spears in guyun stone forest ever since.”

“if such an ancient god were to be unleashed upon liyue harbor, defenseless without the protection of its deity…”

your fists are shut so tightly that your nails start digging into your palms.

“he means to draw out rex lapis with a threat to his people.”

childe nods smugly. “do you truly think the cunning rex lapis would just stand aloof and watch the ensuing destruction?”

paimon’s gaze scatters around nervously. “but… the archon war ended two thousand years ago! how could an ancient god appear in a world now overseen by the seven?”

“simple. i’ve already prepared the means to awaken it.”

an amber aura suddenly surrounds childe and within another flash, sigils of permission start orbiting him.

“hey! those are sigils of permission!”

“the fatui have been researching them and… well- duplicating them.” you might as well assist in the exposition of the plan, no point in standing helplessly aside while childe prepares to drown an entire city. any chance of stopping him forcibly was also out the window, on account of how physically worn you were- standing on your shaking legs at all was already a challenge.

soon enough, thunders can be heard outside the golden house- it’s already done. you only don’t feel completely and utterly hopeless at how the next moments might turn out because, after seeing the traveler’s abilities in action, a sliver of faith festers in your chest. now it’s up to her and the adepti to deliver.

“hahaha! let’s see… will the nation that lost its deity be swallowed up by an ancient malice once more? if you wish to drown together with the people of liyue, you’re free to stay and enjoy the show!”

as childe laughs evilly, he’s swallowed by a vortex of water that floats up into the ceiling of the house and disappears without a trace and the three of you that remain rush out to catch up to him. unsurprisingly, there’s no clue as to where he might’ve gone and as the traveler and paimon prepare to head to the harbor and face again straight osial, they stop to look at you expectantly. you tell them that as much as you’d like to aid in the fight, you should go look for childe.

—

“heh… here to finish the job while i’m still weak?”

for someone so crafty, childe is not exactly hard to find. in fact, he’s in the first place you even think of looking- the mountaintop where you first sparred, sat against the trunk of one of the outer ginkgo trees in the area. his position displays a perfect view of the catastrophe you caused, the jade chamber floating before the seas where osial emerges from. childe doesn’t even turn to look over his shoulder when you arrive silently but he knows it’s you, almost as if he was waiting for you to show up.

“depends on how this conversation goes, really- and trust me when i say we have plenty to talk about.”

the harbinger remains silent, only turning his head to watch you sit neatly beside him against the next tree over and waiting for you to keep going.

“first of all… what the fuck was that in the golden house?”

he laughs, boyishly this time.

“a lot happened back there so that’s not very specific, but i’ll assume you’re referring to foul legacy. i guess i do owe you this explanation.” childe averts his gaze and sighs deeply, like he’s preparing to admit something difficult. the very start of his sentence justifies that.

“when i disappeared that day, i… fell. not like tripping on the ground or anything, i literally fell through the earth.”

you feel your entire being sink at the mention of that day. as painful as it is, you recall the exact moment he’s talking about- the very second the disappeared from your sight in the snow, at least now there’s some clarity as to what happened. unfortunately, that clarity doesn’t make anything any more comprehensible.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “w-what?”

“even after all these years, i myself don’t exactly know what happened. i just remember lying there in the snow, the wolves getting closer and closer and then- suddenly, a crevice opens and i fall straight through the ground. and i end up in the abyss.”

the abyss… you haven’t heard much about the abyss. it’s never come up as something of relevance or even interest to you. it’s always felt like such a distant topic to you, like i’d never truly be important enough for you to involve yourself in- turns out you’ve been sitting right next to it. snapping yourself from your brief thoughts, you turn to see childe with a tense expression, as though recalling is physically taxing to him.

“childe… you don’t need to tell me this if you’re-“

“ajax.”

“what?”

“call me ajax, please. i heard you say it back there and it’s been so long since you’ve called me that.” he asks, almost breathlessly.

so he did hear you before. dammit. the desperation for the name present in his voice sends you into reminiscence- about your time as children- how happy you were, how free you were, how careless you were. it seemed just like yesterday you were still fourteen and laughing with ajax as you played in his childhood bedroom. how did it all end up like this? with the two of you sitting in a mountaintop- pathetic, injured and tired as you watch an entire fucking catastrophe happen to a nation from far away.

ajax goes on to tell you about his time in the abyss, where he met a woman named skirk, where he was taught all he knows about combat, including but not limited to the foul legacy form, and where he became the killing machine that he is.

“then… can i ask- the day you came back,” you start off and the memory already brings stinging tears to your eyes. the scar on your neck, the one you still have from ajax’s sword, seems to start burning as well.

“why-… why did you react like that? was it the shock from all you went through?”

ajax’s expression turns to that of a kicked puppy- well in this case, he would be the one to kick the puppy and feel endlessly guilty about it. he eyes your neck and spots the small slit of scarred tissue, flinching at his own doing.

“i-i would say so, yes. if i’m being entirely honest, i don’t even remember that day very well. i guess i was still in a state or fight or flight… well, heh, in my case only fight.” he chuckles sheepishly and you return it.

“i’m… i’m really sorry for hurting you, y/n. i know i’m not exactly in the place to say that after fighting you twice in a day but- i promise i never intended to back then.”

you nod in understanding, you’re too spent to even try to be mad at him right now. looking back towards the fight, you watch osial take a heavy hit from the defenders of liyue just in time. at this point you’re not even worried that they might not win.

“i’m tired of fighting, ajax. as annoying as you can be sometimes and in need of a bicker, i’m tired of being… on edge whenever we talk. we’re clearly having a nice talk right now so, tell you what- what about a truce? let’s not make each other’s lives harder than they already are.”

ajax seems to physically light up at your proposition, like it’s all he’s ever wanted. he nods fervently and flashes a giddy smile that infects your own face subconsciously. you reach into one of your pockets with an idea, pulling out a small object that you present to him on an open palm.

“here. a symbol of our truce.”

you offer him one of the origami stars you made before, it’s not like you have any use for the hundreds of them that you made. ajax takes it into his own hands with the gentlest of holds.

“since when do you know how to make these?”

“since earlier today. i was astronomically bored waiting for the millelith to show up.”

ajax snorts out a laugh, then a second passes by and he bursts into full hearty laughter and for the third time, you can’t help but to join in on him.

“wait! does this mean we can still spar every once in awhile?”

“don’t push it, harbinger.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #childe fic #childe tartaglia #childe genshin #tartaglia imagines #genshin fic #tartaglia genshin impact #childe genshin impact #genshin impact imagines

[eepyuii]

frostbite — masterlist

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

preview ;

“like you’d talk to me under normal circumstances.”

the regret you were feeling from your cruel response from earlier quickly bleeds out into incredulousness.

“you haven’t talked to me under normal circumstances since we were fourteen.” you stab back and childe bites his tongue, he won’t retaliate this time.

one | two | three | four | five

six | seven | eight | nine | ten

eleven | twelve | thirteen | fourteen

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #childe fic #childe tartaglia #childe tartaglia ajax #childe genshin impact #tartagalia genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin x you

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 5

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; just a lotta fighting, painful amount of archon quest biz (at least to me LMAO)

notes ; finally!!!! it’s here!!!!!! my winter break started this last week and i took the chance to take a small break from writing this (i had a PHAT writer’s block for a few days too).

in that time, i also came to the heartbreaking realization that the reader’s backstory is literally fucking mercy overwatch’s backstory. i cannot elaborate but it is the undeniable truth and it vexes me so…

finally- kinda unhappy with this chapter, it feels a little inconsistent to me considering the breaks that i took between writing certain parts and i also absolutely HATE having to follow the AQ dialogue script, it’s the bane of my existence.

previous | next | masterlist

“y’know i also did have something to talk about with you.”

“yeah? what’s that?”

“well you see- the traveler and paimon went to seek help from that little girl at bubu pharmacy, qiqi, and-“ you tuned out the rest of his tale. at the moment, you and childe were both sat at the edge of the mountaintop where you’d fought mere minutes ago, looking over at liyue harbor below.

with fists tightly gripping onto the grass underneath you, you scrutinize every detail of the harbor that you could at such a height, which you’d much rather do than even spare a glance at the harbinger beside you. you think you’d murder him on the spot out of sheer rage if you looked at him. he keeps going on and on with the story, until you hear him slap his thigh and pause his sentence to let his laughter seep through.

“an- and then.. qiqi says ‘coconut milk’! the cocogoat they were looking for that whole time wasn’t real! it was just coconut milk! hahahah…” childe wheezes, bringing a finger to wipe the tear that creeps into his eye.

qiqi’s coconut milk..? oh, so that’s what that was about. the recollection of your sighting reignites your determination to steer childe away from his plan- that is the whole reason you’re even there after all. you’re quick to tune him out again as he insists on the sheer hilarity of what he’s just recounted, rehearsing in your mind how you’ll try to sell him on your idea. you fidget with the socket of your polearm, where blade meets the pole in tight bindings, with furrowed eyebrows and a tense expression.

“yeah, uhm, really funny story and all but-“ with the start of your sentence, childe abruptly ends his giggles and turns to listen to you with full attention.

“w-what if… you.. didn’t summon osial?” there. bandaid’s ripped. you considered buttering up your proposition with a foreword but there seems to be no point in it- he doesn’t burst into incredulous yells at your outrageous request.

no, he chuckles.

“i knew that’s what you’d want to talk about from the beginning. thought you’d be more assertive about, though.” he teases with a warm smile. it’s too trained. disingenuous.

“unfortunately i can’t guarantee that.”

there it is. you’re at least proud of yourself for detecting it before he could catch you off guard with his obnoxious phony grin.

“well humor me then. why not? we have no confirmation as to whether or not your theory about the forging of rex lapis’ death is right and-and what if he’s really dead?! what if it’s just that easy and the gnosis, if not inside the exuvia, is just hidden away somewhere else?! i-i mean liyue is huge! there’s tons of places-“

childe presents a collected yet amused expression, one that irks you to no end. “it’s a last resort, y/n. that’s all it is.”

“but it’s not! you’re planning on using it, i can tell that you are. and that’s, by definition, not what a last resort is-“

“what’s made you so bent on stopping this anyhow?”

at the question, you finally halt from your panicked rambling. you take a second to stabilize your breathing, to finally let out a deep sigh from the very bottom of your chest.

“i know it’ll sound stupid and corny but… i saw the people. i spent the entire evening yesterday walking around the harbor and watching people just- exist. and they’re so full of life, they have so much to tell, so much to show.”

if there was anything that could make you feel smaller and more embarrassed at that moment, it was tears. and by the gods, did they deliver- eyes fluttering, lips trembling. the whole spiel.

“they have so much to live, still. and i-i can’t take that away from them. well, at least i can’t watch you take that away from them, it’s not even within my direct power to stop you or not. i’m just a measly battle medic, one that’s watched the doctor and so many other fatui operatives do horrible things to people. people who are just like anyone else in the harbor, who deserved to live just as much as they do. i don’t care what you do to get the damn gnosis so long as it doesn’t risk turning hundreds of innocent people into unnecessary casualties.”

your fists return to grip the grass, this time so tightly that the dirt and roots start to rise within your balled fingers.

“and don’t act like it’s not unnecessary and rather some sort of valiant show of unyielding loyalty to her majesty so you can follow through with it. neither of us are stupid but one of us is stubborn.”

he looks at you in utter silence, you can’t tell if he’s studying all of what you’ve told him or just perpexled at just how much you unearthed. and then he laughs again, hard. you truly cannot tell what’s gotten him into such a giggly mood today.

“ah, y/n, you never cease to amaze me. you see right through me! read my entire plan like a children’s tale.” he shakes his head amusedly.

“unfortunately, you were wrong about one thing- this grandiose overkill of mine isn’t only for the sake of the tsaritsa. while i do aim to fulfill the mission she gave me, i also aim to make some entertainment out of it while i’m at it. i want the thrill of a real battle, real stakes. and that means i have to see my plan until the very end. not to mention, i believe in the pursuit of strength above all else- if the people of liyue can truly prosper without a god, they’ll have to show their capability to do so one way or the other. i’m simply speeding up the process.”

childe states nonchalantly, as if his words don’t sound almost entirely insane. he stands up from his spot beside you and dusts off his trousers, beginning to walk away with the most careless pip in his step. until he stops midway and looks back at you over his shoulder.

“i’m sorry, there’s truly nothing i can do about this. though, if you’d still like to fight back, i urgently invite you to do so- i would love to see more of your skills in action, plus it would make things so much more interesting.”

—

what ensues next is the worst waiting game of your life.

sat pathetically at your office desk, leg bouncing restlessly. you’d done anything and everything to pass the time- crosswords, reading, doodles, even paged through a magazine on the inazuman art of paper folding- origami, it was called. at this point your desk was overflowing with tiny paper stars, cranes and flowers.

you know the milelith would be here, locking down the bank and investigating any suspicious activity- all while the real suspicious individual was nowhere to be found. well, you know exactly where he is and exactly what he’ll do there. yet you sit here, tail between your legs, waiting for things to resolve themselves, if they even do. curse the guilt that ever grows in your chest. and curse the the job you never wanted, that put you in this gut wrenching dilemma. but truly, curse the millelith for being so incompetent as to take so long to arrive at the bank that it gives you more than enough time to sneak out and make your way to the golden house as fast as humanly possible.

you find the luxurious building devoid of any guards, or people at all. that is until you walk in, weapon drawn, to find unconscious millelith soldiers by the door, expectedly, as well as the familiar sight of the traveler with paimon by her side, all the way across the floor of the house.

as you get closer, so does childe, coming out of hiding to catch the duo off guard. he starts speaking to the traveler and paimon, seeming oblivious to your arrival until the sound of your careful footsteps are within his earshot- his ears seem to perk up ever so slightly, just like they did when you first arrived in liyue, though he doesn’t show sign of being surprised in the slightest.

“speaking of being in my way...” childe taunts, merely looking at you from over his shoulder. the two lean over to the side to see what he was referring to and when they spot you in your prepared stance, paimon jumps.

“agh! it’s a fatui ambush!!” she panics.

“so you’ve been planning on taking the gnosis from inside the exuvia all along?” the traveler asks with calculated calmness.

“not exactly. i’m not here with the intention of following through with that plan- looks like i arrived just in time too.” you reply, eyes staring daggers onto childe’s back.

he scoffs. “don’t you think that trying to stop me now would just be wasted effort? as one of the eleven fatui harbingers, it is my duty to see the will of the tsaritsa fulfilled. she will get that what she desires…” childe turns to face you coldly.

“i know i openly urged you to come here, y/n, but we both know that is what will ultimately happen.”

“not if i have anything to say about it.” the traveler threatens.

“ha! i’m not asking for your blessing and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. the time for discussion and diplomacy has already passed. i mean, if it were up to me, i would’ve skipped that stage to begin with- but i’m willing to do as the tsaritsa deems fit.”

childe sighs dreamily. “either way, we now to my favorite part. a simple pleasure that i am oh so delighted to share with you-“ his eyes turn to you, an excited glint in them.

“the battle.” the look in his azure gaze shifts from excitedness to maniacal faster than you realize.

“battle? so you’re the type that goes looking for trouble, huh?” paimon says, a serious and cautious expression on her small face that you hadn’t caught before.

“haha, you could say that. when signora offended the deities outside the cathedral in mondstat, she swiftly left the scene once her mission was accomplished. instead of confronting you directly, she relied on the snow and ice to make her escape. she wouldn’t want the knights to come running toward the sound of battle, now, would she? when she faces a worthy opponent, she will prioritize her mission, weigh the outcomes, and consider the consequences of her actions…”

signora… so that’s how she acquired the anemo gnosis. you’d never gotten much involved with her dealings, both directly and indirectly, so you only heard whispers and passing reports of her successful mission in mondstat. you know she was supposedly involved in the current mission as well but hadn’t run into her even once. you’d hope to keep it that way.

“hm… you not so much, though, right? i’d hate to even consider riding signora’s coattails but which one of you has already brought a gnosis home?”

slow, steady steps direct you toward where the traveler and paimon stand ready- though you still face childe with watchful eyes and some newfound smugness.

childe beams at the imposing stances the three of you present.

“oh-hoh, so you intend to fight me? good… i won’t kill you all, i’ll just play along- to feel the thrill of battle!”

“besides, you could never defeat me. not even in your wildest dreams.” he turns to you. “that includes you, y/n. all the skill that you have only got you far enough to catch me off guard- you won’t fool me again. but hey, try to relish the fight anyway. if you ask me… without that, what else is there?”

“if you’re as strong as you are delusional then maybe you stand a chance.” you snarl back.

for now, you decide to ignore how the entire current situation seems to only feed into exactly what childe wants so extensively that he looks giddier than any kid of teucer’s age would look in a toy store, mission completely disregarded at this point.

“ahahaha! fighting talk, i love it! now let’s see you live up to it…”

the fight starts almost immediately, with a round of rapid hydro arrows fired by childe- easily avoidable. he dashes across the floor of the golden house, dodging the travelers geo constructs and your cryo advances. all three of you seem to equally sustain yourselves in a way that creates a nearly tiring back and forth of strikes, just like your spar with the harbinger earlier. eventually, childe resorts, almost without thinking, to a cylindrical barrier of hydro that becomes the most perfect opportunity for you to send a wave of ice that freezes over the barrier in record speed, shattering it into dust and opening the way for the traveler to deliver a final strike. though, before she can, childe is enveloped in a dome of coursing water- its current powerful enough to push the two of you away. it lasts for a few seconds, completely obscuring your opponent, you assume he’s using it to recover momentarily.

you take the opportunity to check up on the traveler and paimon to tend to any injuries they might’ve sustained- the very moment you take your eyes off of childe, a purple spark shoots out right before your face, effectively startling you back into a combat stance.

“good! no wonder signora was so wary of you. well, that just means i can go all out! brace yourself, this is about to get tough…”

the roaring smack talk comes from a newly transformed childe, who now wields his electro delusion in a slightly different uniform- black garments and his signature red mask covering his face. the elemental blades he famously uses now spark with pure electricity and they swing at the two of you with unparalleled speed. you’ve always known of childe’s delusion, though you only ever heard whispers about his electro form. unfortunately, the fatui gossip and childe’s very own trash talking weren’t mere bluffs, the fight felt extensively tougher. he dashes and blinks in every direction, leaving you disorientingly little time to position yourselves. with caution and hyper-awareness, you and the traveler manage to get some hits in the harbinger- yet they prove futile in staggering your opponent when he sends a powerful rush of attacks that send the three of you flying back.

the traveler struggles briefly to get back up, while you recover quicker and rush to stand before her and paimon defensively. childe steps towards you menacingly, swirling his weapon around.

“not bad. your skills are quite impressive… but that’s about as far as you’ll get.” he charges forward, weapon pointed, only for the traveler to send a small vortex of… anemo? she was just using geo powers a second ago… and now that you think about it, where is her vision? as if to further your confusion, she simultaneously summons a wave of geo crystals while still maintaining the vortex. well, no time to be befuddled for much longer, as you brush it aside to cast your own counterattack of ice- this time successfully sending childe back.

wait… successfully?

when the dust clears, it reveals a ring of geo crystals surrounding where childe was supposed to be, though in his place is only the double edged spear he wields. the hairs on the back of your neck rise and you turn around almost as fast as childe’s own lightning sparks. floating, somehow, right beside the exuvia is none other than the harbinger, chuckling darkly.

“hahah… didn’t think you had that card up your sleeve…”

paimon kicks the air frustratedly. “you were just playing us to get to the exuvia!”

“it’s-… it’s not there..” you pant out exhaustedly, quiet enough so only the traveler and paimon hear.

“oh quiet down!” snarls childe. he closes a fist loaded with electro energy and sends it into the exuvia, a powerful wave shoots out from it. “well then… i’ll be taking morax’s gnosis now!”

when he pulls his hand back out, it’s empty. you sigh, somewhat relieved to be right while childe barks out hearty, maniacal laughter.

“ahahahah! i see how it is…” he turns to you- well at least you think he’s looking at you, the mask covers his eyes from you yet you still feel the burn of their stare. “seems like you were right all along, y/n. i never should have doubted your intellect… or maybe… maybe you beat me to it, didn’t you?!”

childe growls like a crazed animal, his accusation toward you doesn’t even make any sense- though, sense seems to have been abandoned by him long long ago. he shoots into the center of the room and water and electricity swirl around him, sending several flashes of purple that blind your vision. when your eyes recover and you look back to the where childe was meant to be, there stands… something you’ve never seen before.

something otherworldly.

gigantic stature, sharp claws, a flowing cape with the pattern of a starry night, orange spiked hair and a shell-like, crimson colored mask that harbors a glowing blue gem right in the middle are what makes up the creature in front of you. what in the gods’ names was it? it didn’t resemble a hilichurl, an abyss mage or any regular animal, it was unusually humanoid. and most of all, where did childe go? actually, you know the answer to the latter, you just don’t want to accept it. it couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible, it wasn’t feasible for that to be him. but there was no other possibility, he was nowhere to be found and the resemblance was undeniable- you stare into the creature’s singular, cerulean eye and feel familiarity stir within you. the realization sends sheer horror into your very being, horror you haven’t felt in years.

“a-… ajax?”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x reader #childe genshin #childe genshin impact #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia fic #tartaglia genshin impact #tartaglia imagines #childe tartaglia #tartagalia genshin impact

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 4

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; brief mentions of drowning, fighting (?)

note ; i’m ngl i’m kinda proud of this chapter, i may have done the smidgenmost cooking. also i will be making a masterlist soon!!

previous | next | masterlist

liyue harbor looked its prettiest at night.

the lantern lights made the city’s colors pop out so much more. from afar, the harbor looked like it’s own galaxy of yellow stars or like a celestial being as lively as its nightlife. this isn’t even the first time you’ve thought this- zapolyarny palace also seemed infinitely more majestic when the lights turned on during the evening. it almost made you enjoy working late shifts.

almost.

unfortunately, aesthetics can’t sugarcoat the things the fatui has done and that you’ve been a witness to. the mass production of delusions, the robbery of gnoses and let’s not even get started on the things the doctor has done. even with eleven harbingers, who all have their fair share of unorthodox acts, don’t seem to rival the blasphemies your very boss has committed. blasphemies you’ve only watched, sitting neatly and keeping your mouth shut, and done nothing about. you’re only undeservingly grateful you weren’t present for the majority of his atrocities. but then again, who even were you to keep count of divine punishments you would never provide to the sinners who warranted them?

plus, now wasn’t the time to dwell on entirely so much.

if you stood lifelessly in the middle of the street for any longer, someone might get suspicious. you choose to head towards the coastal side of the harbor, merely observing the crowds walk back and forth between the street businesses. a few steps further and you reach a small street food restaurant- wanmin restaurant. the line of customers is concerningly big for such a time of day, you shiver to imagine what it’s like during lunch time.

the large, open window of the restaurant shows an older man attending to the customers with utmost friendliness and behind him, a younger blue-haired girl hurries from side to side as she rushes to ready the dishes. you see her look down and speak as if talking to someone incredibly short, so short that they’re entirely covered by the half wall of the window.

you furrow your eyebrows, confused by the sight- that is until the girl turns to you and panic invades her expression.

“guoba, wait! watch out for-“

before she finishes her sentence, you feel a faint thump against your leg. you look down to see… what in all honesty just looked like a teddy bear- except it seemed entirely alive and currently knocked over on the ground, paw wiping its little forehead as if it got hurt on the crash with your calf. next to it was also a small bag of mora, spilling over onto the sidewalk.

you hurry to gather up the coins and put them back in the bag before any slimy passerby could snatch them away while the girl steps over to help up the teddy bear.

“agh… i shouldn’t have sent you out to get groceries in such a hurry and you also need to watch where you go better!” she reprimands the creature, patting it down to smooth away any dirt.

“a-and i’m so very sorry! we’re overflowing with customers today and we were running out of oil so i thought i’d have guoba run to mr. dongsheng’s shop but i guess the pressure got him distracted…” she bows apologetically and the bear follows suit.

chuckling sheepishly, you wave the gesture off. “please, there’s no need for all that… it was just an accident after all.” you look down at the bag of mora in your hand.

“say, why don’t i go buy that oil for you? i’m not busy at the moment and you and… guoba clearly need all your attention on the food.”

her eyes light up as if the second coming of rex lapis has just occurred before her. “you’d do that? oh, that would be amazing! thank you so much…” she trails off as if waiting for you to say your name.

“y/n.”

“y/n! thank you so much, y/n. i’m xiangling, by the way!”

the shop just around the corner from the restaurant and you dutifully wait in line to be attended by mr. dongsheng. you’re almost getting lost in thought until you hear an exclamation from nearby.

“x-xingqiu wait up!” what sounded like a young boy huffed out, sprinting from nearby. you turn to see exactly a young light-blue haired boy in white clothes rushing to catch up with another boy with darker blue hair in elegant navy garbs who was already waiting for him at the bridge to the outskirts of town.

“come on, you slowpoke!” the other boy giggles and as his friend is finally beside him, he abruptly grabs his wrist and pulls him along to run once more.

the display is so genuine and lighthearted that it even makes you chuckle fondly, makes you nostalgic for a simpler time.

you buy the oil and swiftly head back to wanmin restaurant, where xiangling is practically weeping with gratitude. “oh thank you, thank you, thank you! you’re a real lifesaver, please let me repay you- a whole evening of dishes on the house with whatever guests you’d like!” she bows once more.

“don’t sweat it… but i’ll hold you to that.” you nod amusedly and make your way out to leave xiangling and guoba to their arduous cooking.

your aimless wandering through the harbor takes you to the eastern side next, to the passageway between the pool of lotuses that leads to bubu pharmacy. you lean against the railing, watching intently as the fish swim aimlessly through the calm waters- then you turn to watch the people crossing the passageway, couples, families, childhood friends all enjoying the comfortable mundaneness of life.

turning even further, you spot a small girl sitting at the top of the staircase that leads to bubu pharmacy, you’ve seen her before behind the counter of the establishment… qiqi, was it? she sits at the edge of the elevated structure, facing the piers of the harbor as she watches with droopy eyes and what seemed to be a glass of milk in her hands.

the sleepiness in her expression reminds you of how late into the night it must be, urging you to head back to your quarters and get whatever sleep you can.

on your way up the stairs of the catwalks, you pass by heyu tea house, where an opera is taking place. the singer is a young girl, adorning traditional liyuean opera garbs that flow gracefully with the elegant twists and turns of the dance she performs. not to mention her unparalleled singing accompanied by the smooth sounds of a liyuean instrument, a guqin as you recall it- her voice so mesmerizing it nearly pulls all of the attention away from the heart wrenching tale it tells.

you’d heard stories about liyuean opera and how entirely different it was from the snezhnayan iterations, but none of the descriptions truly made justice to the fantastical spectacle you stumbled upon by luck. once again, you almost forget you were supposed to head to your dorm and rest.

unfortunately, rest is not for you.

you lay in your bed, eyes wide awake and fixated at the decorated ceiling as you recall all that you saw this evening. the liveliness of the common folk, xiangling and guoba, the two boys, the young girl from the pharmacy delighting in something as simple as a glass of milk, the opera performance. it’s all so human, so natural, simple, meaningful and so entirely precious. you’d made an enjoyable evening stroll just out of watching people… be people.

and you were going to drown it all in just a few days.

well, not as much you as childe was going to. but you didn’t do anything to counter it, not a peep of disagreement, not an act of defiance, not even an idea of an alternate solution. all because of some goddamn chess piece for the tsaritsa’s stupid plan. a pang of forced guilt hits your heart- you’d be surely decapitated in the town square for saying such things about her grace, or thinking rather. but that’s not how you feel, you’d care less about not criticizing an archon if they were truly being stupid.

but that’s how childe feels.

he reveres the tsaritsa blindly more than anyone you know. you needed to speak to him, first thing tomorrow.

surely he wouldn’t mind pulling out of his ingenious, but foolishly dangerous, plan just for you?

—

they say early bird gets the worm yet here you remain, up at the ass crack of dawn with no worm to speak of. if you were slightly less exhausted at the moment, you would’ve caught onto ekaterina’s look of sheer pity towards you.

“good morning, sergeant! how may i help you?” she greets politely.

“mmh.. yes, morning…” you mumble back, pinching the bridge of your nose. “would you know where childe is right now?”

“i believe childe is currently exercising outside of the harbor. would you like to leave a message for him?”

“no no- no need, i’ll just go to him myself. where exactly outside of town is he?”

“childe usually likes to train up in the mountains behind yujing terrace, he took a few officers to train alongside him so it won’t be difficult to spot the group.” you nod and mutter a curt ‘thank you’ to her. your feet feel like they’ve got pure geo constructs tied to them but you manage to make it to the door of northland bank- though before you get to make your way out, you hear ekaterina call out to you.

“i would advise you to bring a weapon, sergeant! knowing how stubborn childe is.”

chuckling at the indirect jab toward childe that she delivers, you only materialize your polearm with the power of your vision, the only instance you’ll ever use it.

“don’t i know it.”

sometimes you wonder if childe is even human- the mere climb to the mountains behind yujing terrace was enough exercise to last you a week or so. once you settled upon the mountain top, heaving as if death were at your doorstep, you take in your surroundings to spot a small group of men in the distance, gathered in a circle that and facing away from you. a few more minutes of walking reveal that they are in fact clad in fatui uniform and the sound of grunts, thuds and the ever despair-inducing sound of the eleventh harbinger’s maniacal laughter.

you join the circle silently, eyes sharp and cold, to watch as childe effortlessly topples over a low-rank officer. a little more observation would show that this poor man wasn’t the first one to receive such treatment, as all the other men look over with sheer horror in their eyes and dirt clinging to their uniforms- all while childe’s clothes remain spotless and neat. said terrified men notice your sudden presence and scurry to salute you properly with trembling arms while you merely gesture for them to be at ease.

“so! who would like to go next?” the harbinger calls out obliviously only to be met with shameful silence. he scans the whole circle like a bloodthirsty predator, though once he finally turns around to see you there, his eyes seem to gain a different light. if they can even attain any.

“y/n! to what do we owe the pleasure to have you here?” he laughs, raising a hand to gesture to you while facing the other officers. “gentlemen, sergeant y/n of the medical division.”

the officers almost immediately salute you once more and you sigh. “please, at ease.”

“truly impeccable timing, doc! i’ve just sparred one-on-one with each one of these officers to teach them a thing or two about combat. though… i might’ve gone a little too hard, plus they might learn better through observing rather than getting shoved around one by one. so why don’t the two of us spar?”

you put up a hand to stop him. “yeah yeah, unfortunately i’m not here to rumble. i’ve got something i’d like to discuss with y-“

“aw, come on! this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for these gentlemen!” childe whines.

“i really would rather not, it’s a bit of an important matter that i want to sort out-“

“it’ll be quick! just one round.”

“i didn’t sleep well last night plus-“

“then a spar is just the way to get the blood pumping!”

“can we please just talk for a few minutes and then you can go back to-“

slash.

where you expected to receive another interruption from childe was instead the sharp tip of a hydro blade right beside your head, narrowingly missing you by a hair. the officers gasp dramatically, while you practically stab childe with the incredulous glare you throw him. even worse, the asshole only smirks playfully as if it was just a playground game.

being on the other side of his blade is famously not unfamiliar to you.

you summon your polearm without thinking and swing it angrily from right to left, hoping only to get the hydro sword away from you. childe does exactly as you predict and steps back expertly to dodge your spear, bearing the widest grin. what ensues next is a tiring back and forth between the two of you- childe hits, you hit back to defend yourself, childe hits back harder. the men watch intently as if watching the most intense play of their lives. it’s probably after a good eight minutes of fighting that your arms start growing weary from how tightly you’re holding onto your weapon and your legs get even sorer than they were from how much you climbed. this is getting stupid.

you put all your focus into finding an opening in childe’s strikes to overtake him, finding it within his next attack, where he switches his grip on the twin blades so the sharp sides face outward and he brings his arms together to create momentum for a double-sided swing that covers the entire of his front. in the millisecond that his hands are next to each other, you send a wave of frigid air that freezes the entirety of his swords and bites at his fingers in a way that makes him hiss and drop the weapons on instinct.

as the icy blades collide with the ground, they shatter into a million glittering shards. childe looks down, half-shocked half-amused at the display and laughs once more. he continues to stare at the ground, any trace of his swords is entirely gone- though it’s no matter, as hydro is already swirling down his wrists as he prepares a new set.

“hah… the fun finally begi-“

before he can finish his taunt, you’re tackling him onto the ground, taking advantage of his distraction. you kneel with one knee up, the other is latched firmly beside childe’s torso, and press your polearm firmly across his arms as to restrain him. the fatui officers are practically losing their minds at this point.

“enough.” you huff out with a snarl, chest heaving up and down violently.

childe is finally, truly at a loss for words. he looks up at you as if you’re the most divine being he’s ever seen and the halo of sunlight that forms around you really doesn’t help. though, you only interpret it as him simply being so surprised that someone finally beat him. after a few seconds of remaining in the position, you take it childe has surrendered and stand up and away from him.

you dust off your clothes and utter without looking up. “leave. all of you.” the men sprint out of the scene like startled rabbits.

“now can we talk?”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

#childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia fic #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia x reader #childe fic #childe genshin #childe tartaglia #childe tartaglia ajax #childe genshin impact

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 3

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; mentions of blood, wounds, passing out from exhaustion and anxiety attacks (sort of)

note ; FUCK you mobile tumblr posting format, i HATE you >:[ also backstory chapter oOooOo…

previous | next | masterlist

sometimes the memory of his disappearance flashes into your mind like the sunlight that creeps into the window at early dawn. blindingly.

on the rare afternoons that you weren’t with ajax, either at his house or outside playing, you were home with your mother. more often than not baking.

the warmth of the fireplace in the living room had already latched itself onto the other parts of the house, you’d have to thank your father for lighting it this morning before he left for work. speaking of your father, the very apple cake you were currently baking with your mother was his own request. almost instinctively peeling the apple skins, she blabbered on about how many baking recipes you’d need to know by heart if you were to ever even be a functioning adult, much less the safe and cozy housewife she hoped for.

you say blabbered because you truly were not paying any attention, much preferring to draw figures on the sheet of leftover flour that gracefully covered the surface of your countertop. that same flour coated your arms up to the shoulders- yet absurdly, your little hand-sown apron was left spotless.

though, that wasn’t nearly as absurd as the sight outside your window.

treading the snowy ground of the forest surrounding your house, just outside of it even, was ajax. he carried a small sack over his shoulder and his treasured wooden sword with him. he paid no mind to the fact that he was just walking past his best friend’s house, no- instead he looked straight ahead with a fire in his eyes you’d never seen before.

where on teyvat could he be going?

“hm? oh, look honey, isn’t that ajax right outside? were you two planning on playing together today?” your mother commented half-mindedly.

“not really, no…”

“then where on teyvat could he be going on his own?” ironic.

you couldn’t bring yourself to answer her at the time, too absorbed in the gnawing feeling in your gut that, other than the obvious strange scene before you, something wasn’t right. you needed to go after him. the speed in which you put on your boots and heavy jacket is almost inhuman and you didn’t even realize you were already out the door the next second until you received a full-front slap of cold air to your warm cheeks. by the time you were sprinting through the forest following ajax’s trail, he’s but a tiny spec of orange hair and red scarf in the distance. the stinging air of snezhnaya winter still fought against you, stabbing your skin and bringing tears to your eyes. or maybe you were just crying out of panic.

why would he be going so far deep into the forest? both of you had already gone past the outskirts that you were already familiar with. even at the age of fourteen, neither ajax nor you really ever dared to go out of morepesok without the presence of another family member.

and why was ajax carrying a sack and a sword? was he trying to hunt on his own? you doubt he would be that stupid, that wooden sword of his was merely a toy given to him by his father and was as dull as could be. and even worse- ajax, being non-confrontational by nature, barely knew how to use it.

and just why did he have that look in his face? like he had debts to settle, lands to conquer, beasts to fell. you’d been together just yesterday and he seemed fine, seemed happy.

what if… ajax was lying?

what if he was unsatisfied with what he had in morepesok- his parents, his siblings, you? what if he was leaving so determinedly because he yearned for more? and if so, why didn’t he at the very least tell you?

in the midst of you drowning in your worries, ajax’s silhouette of orange and red seemed to only get farther and farther.

“ajax! ajax- hah… wait for me! ajax!” you called out breathlessly.

and as if this entire situation couldn’t get any worse, the growls of what seemed like at the very least three wolves rang out from nearby. you froze for a moment, holding your breath when said wolves stalked ahead of you, towards ajax’s direction. apparently, he had also noticed the wolves and paused in his tracks, as there was no sound in the forest to be heard other than the pack’s footsteps in the snow.

the stream of hot tears on your cheeks grew in flow and your heart pumped in your chest so violently it nearly shook the rest of your body. eyes frantically scanned the area for anything you could do, anything you could use- until they landed on a fallen tree branch, sturdier and sharper than the other measly twigs that populated the ground. you almost latched onto it without thinking and tiptoed forward, to where you’d last spotted the wolves. the beasts, thankfully, seemed unaware of your presence, much more focused on the fresh lump of meat you called your best friend in front of them.

they approached him with slow, calculated steps and hungry snarls upon their faces while you painstakingly crossed the distance, murder rampant in your eyes. you raised a shaky arm, holding the branch and readying to launch as if it was hunting spear.

then suddenly, rustling is heard and the wolves are sprinting away with cowardly whines from where ajax, their lunch, presumably was.

but there was no ajax to be found.

the world felt like it stopped and started spinning even faster all at once. the adrenaline rush from the chase and the intense emotions you’d been feeling keeps you numb to the sight before you, or the lack thereof. where your best friend had been standing and shivering in fear of the wolves that were approaching him- was nothing.

the branch thudded on the ground, long forgotten, as you ran to where you’d last seen him. if it weren’t for the rustled snow, it would’ve looked like nothing happened, because both the trail of footprints and the mess ajax had made while freezing before the wolves ended abruptly, right then and there. despite the fact, you still looked around every inch of your surroundings, even the goddamn treetops, for just the smallest indication that he ran away safely.

next up, look through the snow- maybe he fell into a deeper settlement of snow and hid there until the wolves left. you dug and dug and dug, your arms quickly becoming frigid and your fingertips had lost feeling, yet you kept digging. nothing.

it’s like the earth had given way and swallowed him whole.

“AJAX! PLEASE!”

as a last resort, you yelled his name at the very top of your lungs, over and over and over, uncaring to the possibility of the pack or an even worse predator hearing you. your throat grew scratchy but you kept calling out to him until your vision started to grow woozy. the high tension, the exhaustion and the cold altogether became too much for your body to handle- causing you to promptly pass out right there in the middle of the forest.

you’d have to be eternally grateful to the tsaritsa for sending your father back from work just in time to look for you.

—

you would’ve said that was the worst day of your life- but then the next three came along.

ajax’s family scoured nearly every inch of the forests surrounding morepesok and for two days, no avail. you, unfortunately, were bedridden for the entirety of their search- partially to recover from your ministrations, that even ended up causing you first-degree frostbite at the fingertips, and partially because your parents firmly grounded you to the house for endangering yourself like that. throughout the hours of laying in bed and rewarming your hands, you remained numb- emotionless.

the shock from it still plagued your senses and the reports that he still hadn’t been found you received from your parents at the end of the day only fed the raving beast that was your hopelessness. your mother tried her darndest to cheer you up how she could- baking your favorite sweets, reading you your favorite books, ungrounding your old favorite toys. nothing worked.

until the afternoon of the third day.

your fingers had recovered amazingly, yet the rest of your limbs still felt too heavy to get out of bed. the lines of the book you were reading had started blending together, eyes growing tired and sleep creeping up on your body. as you were setting the book aside and snuggling yourself up to the heavy blankets covering you, ready to let the weariness overtake you, your door bursts open.

“he’s back! wake up, dear, they’ve found ajax!” your mother exclaimed, heaving as if she’d ran across the coast to give you the news.

any fatigue that contaminated your entire body evaporated in a second and you were jumping out of bed like a second wind had hit you. you felt like you were back where you were two days ago, running out the door like your life depended on it. you saw the people of the village flocking towards the town center as if magnetized by the commotion. there, the crowd was circling around something- whispers, exclamations of relief, expresses of thanks to the tsaritsa were about. you followed suit with the townspeople’s movement and wrestled your way to the epicenter of the crowd.

you couldn’t believe your eyes.

there stood your goddammned best friend, his back facing you- like it once had before he disappeared. his silhouette had burned itself into your retinas at that point. but his abrupt return wasn’t the only unbelievable thing about what was before you. behind ajax, from your perspective, was his family, facing him with terrified looks on their faces- like he’d grown a second head. their expressions soon received reasoning when you looked at ajax’s feet.

laid unconscious, was another boy from the village. you’d recognized him instantly, a year or so older than you and ajax and was famously known as morepesok’s roughhouser- consistently picking on ajax for his wimpiness throughout the years. not only older but he was objectively one of the stronger kids of the village, hence the bewilderment of seeing him toppled at the younger boy’s feet.

you at least recall the sight being strange overall, because at the time you couldn’t care less- your best friend was back. to you it seemed like the unconscious boy and the townspeople carrying him away from the scene weren’t there at all.

“ajax…” you started off, voice weak and shaky as fat tears gathered up in your eyes. despite the quietness, he still heard your call, finally turning to face you instead. you were already running to him as he did, tackling him into the most bone-crushing hug you could muster with your current strength. “y-you’re back!”

he doesn’t return the hug.

instead, you felt something sharp poke your throat harshly and pulled away with a hiss- giving way for ajax to fully point his wooden sword straight at you. confused, you first looked to the sword, the very same his father gave him and the very same he left with- except it was somehow razor sharp now instead of the dull, worn wood you were familiar with. it was so sharp, in fact, that even the slightest contact it made with the skin of your neck already left a paper thin cut that bled immediately.

gently pressing a finger to the cut, you gazed down to see concerningly big droplets of blood transferred to your digits. when you raised your head towards ajax again, look of utter confusion and betrayal painted onto your face, you were met with the most bone chilling, lifeless hard stare you’d ever seen come from him. he looked at you as if you were less than a dismissible lump that needed to get out of his way- he looked like he felt nothing, regretted nothing.

his cerulean eyes were stone cold dead.

everyone and their mother who were watching seemed to gasp all at once, moving in to separate the both of you, though your parents were faster. ajax’s father, who’d arrived just in time to see his son hurt you, harshly pulled the boy his arm, scolding him, while yours pulled you into their arms to check your wound. you could only keep your eyes straight ahead to where ajax was while he didn’t even try look back.

—

that was the last time you spoke to ajax.

well, speak is a strong word for the brick wall that was his reaction to your tears of relief and tackling hug. though you’d like to say it was because his father sent him away for fatui military training and not because he seemingly didn’t care for you even a smidgen. just like before he even returned, you turned to spend your days away in your room, head buried in books.

you can’t recall when those books stopped fairytales and became human biology encyclopedias. eventually, those encyclopedias turned into medical textbooks- a birthday gift from your father while he was on a trip to the big city. and eventually, those textbooks turned into shining grades and an entry to the most prestigious medical school in snezhnaya, fatui owned obviously. you would’ve been fine with just stopping there, finishing your degree and going back to morepesok to stay with your parents and maybe, just maybe, get a job as a fisherman- unfortunately, the tsaritsa had other plans for you.

not literally, of course, you’d be considered divinely fortunate if her grace were to ever even note your existence amongst the rest of her citizens. instead, it was one of her own little rotten soldiers and the bane of your existence, the doctor, who for some reason took interest in your capabilities over the others in your class. he demanded you be put through fatui training to be both an on-field and off-field medic just to end up working directly under his wing.

a part of you would forever resent him for this.

you never wanted to even come close to having any relation to the fatui, at first it was purely out of disdain for their ordeals but after ajax was also hand-plucked away by a harbinger, you would’ve rather plunge your chances of having a medical career than having to work with him in the organization you liked the least.

oh! and how could you forget…

the crowning jewel of your dissatisfaction, the literal jewel that was unwillingly set into your hands by the gods themselves.

the day you received your title of sergeant, a small, gelid object materialized into your palms. intricately sculpted steel molded over a round, glowing blue gem- cryo symbol shining inside the gem. you denied and denied and denied, unable to accept or even comprehend as to why someone like you would receive a vision from the reigning element of your own tsaritsa. any attempt to get rid of the damned thing proved futile, it seemed as if it were magnetized to your very being, and you entirely gave up in fighting it at some point. it certainly didn’t help how your possession of a vision, a cryo one at that, only seemed to make the higher ranks of the fatui want to entangle you into their web even more. you still managed to protest it by refusing to use its ice powers under any circumstances.

and now you were here. reminiscing over the misery of your lifetime instead of looking over the paperwork the northland bank had provided you. and the next part of childe’s plan was only days away from getting into motion.

a hollow feeling invades your stomach as you remember the plan ajax had explained to you yesterday.

you needed to gather your thoughts.

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu

#i had to make each paragraph into italics individually. i am insane. #childe x y/n #childe x reader #childe x you #childe tartaglia #childe genshin #childe genshin impact #childe genshin x reader #childe imagines #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia genshin impact #childe fic #tartaglia fic #genshin #genshin fic #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 2

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; swearing, a LOT of canon archon quest yappery (sorry)

note ; part two baybee!! in comparison to the ao3 version of this, i’ve decided to merge the chapters two by two to make them seem longer and since so far, i’ve only written five- next one might take a little longer to come out. or maybe i’ll just post chapter 5 stand-alone, who knows

also i’ve got a taglist now!

previous | next | masterlist

your arrival in liyue harbor goes less than stellar.

the port is packed full of people who are either confused or outraged at the line of millelith soldiers who refuse to let anyone through. you end up waiting in a line for an annoying amount of time, up until you’re finally attended to by a soldier.

“i’m sorry but liyue harbor is not accepting in any tourists, we are trying to keep our… current situation under control as best we can while investigations are still in order, i hope you can understand.” the millelith states formally.

“oh, well err- i’m no tourist, i was born in liyue harbor! my parents migrated from overseas many years ago and i was just on a leisurely trip to snezhnaya, haha…” you lie through your teeth.

the mere mention of snezhnaya sets off the most minute reaction in the millelith solider, hence why you’re under a fake identity to begin with. you politely hand him a folder with forged documents so gracefully provided to you by your employers and pray to your lucky stars- and, well, tsaritsa, that it’s good enough for him to let you pass.

the soldier remains neutral for a few seconds as he eyes through the paper.

“very well. but please behave in an orderly fashion inside the city, as i said the trail on the ahem- incident is still fresh. welcome home.”

it takes a lot out of you not to snort at the welcome.

the poor naïve man truly wasn’t lying- the inside of the harbor was just as tumultuous as the outside. people in the streets gather in small groups and anxiously whisper their worries to each other. but most of all, they eye you suspiciously like you were the one to stab a sword through rex lapis with the entire harbor watching. you’d say they’re within reason to do so, losing their protector god and all.

you wouldn’t call yourself the most devoted of subjects but you’d also hate to imagine a snezhnaya without the tsaritsa so… benevolently

watching over it. challenging the heavenly principles like she has would certainly cause a catastrophic bite in the ass for the nation if she were to perish. maybe you could be a devoted subject enough to prevent that from happening.

drowning in a whirlpool of your own thoughts, you don’t even realize you’re already standing in front of the northland bank branch of liyue harbor. you try to walk inside as discreetly as possible, so as to not raise any suspicion toward you from the millelith or civilians and to not disturb the workers inside the bank.

unfortunately your efforts are in vain, because you’re recognized immediately.

“ah, sergeant y/n! we were expecting that you would arrive soon. please, allow me to take care of your luggage.” calls out the receptionist, ekaterina.

not only does she practically announce your arrival, she does it while the very bane of your existence is present in the main hall of the bank, formerly distracted as he spoke to a blonde woman in the strangest garments you’ve ever seen and a uh… floating baby?

childe’s ears, no- his entire body, almost instinctively perk up at the mention of your name and he abruptly stops his sentence midway through to look over to the entrance, to you.

“y/n? what in the name of the tsaritsa are you doing here?” he inquires, eyebrows furrowed with the purest of confusions. that is until he remembers the traveler and paimon are still present and most definitely more perpexled than he is.

so he decides to save face before anything else.

“missed me too much?” childe adds cockily.

your eyes almost roll on their own accord. “whatever you’d like to tell yourself. unfortunately, they decided to station me here to help… stabilize the situation, surely that has nothing to do with you screwing up?”

he scoffs. “there’s been nothing to screw up. in fact, the situation is plentiful under control and we’ve already devised a plan to solve it. your intrusion is unneede-”

“wh- you big liar! we literally met after you kicked a bunch of millelith butt in broad daylight! we’ve been stumbling up and down these past few days just to clear our names.” the floating baby speaks up.

you cock your head to the side at the revelation with curiosity and just a smidgen of smugness.

“and you! don’t think just because paimon likes making fun of childe doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. we heard what the lady called you, you’re fatui just like mr. pants-on-fire over here. just who are you anyway?!” the floating baby glides over to you with an accusatory finger pointed and a suspicious squint to her eyes.

the blonde woman, who’s been radio silent this entire time, merely puts a hand on the floating one’s shoulder to pull her back, though she also looks wary of you.

childe laughs at the display and holds out a formal hand as to introduce you. “traveler, paimon, this is y/n, my.. coworker as you can obviously tell. don’t worry though, they’re not a bad guy or kind of a bad guy like me, you have nothing to worry about. they’re actually an amazingly talented battle medic and head nurse of the fatui, that’s why they carry the sergeant title.”

you’re taken aback for a brief moment at the unexpected praise. you were waiting for just a formal introduction of your position in the fatui, or even one that contained a little snarky comment about your attitude towards him. but no, he only complimented your talents. it’s almost a little too courtly too.

“y/n, this is the traveler and paimon. these two not from around here but they unfortunately managed to land right in the bullseye of the incident and are being considered murder suspects. i’m merely helping them clear their names.”

ah, there’s the kicker. he’s “helping” those two.

you know childe well enough to comprehend that he wouldn’t just help some strangely dressed bystanders if he didn’t think he could snake his way into benefit, in this case most likely the geo gnosis. that’s why he’s trying to make somewhat of a good image for himself and those associated. conniving bastard.

then again, takes one to know one.

“so it’s true then, rex lapis is dead.” you hum. “but why has the millelith jumped to the conclusion that it was a murder so quickly? what exactly happened in the rite of descension?”

“weeell, the ceremony was starting just fine and dandy when suddenly the sky got unusually dark and then- bam! thunder strikes and this huge amber dragon drops dead from the sky.” paimon explains dramatically before shivering.

“eugh… really gave paimon the heebie-jeebies… then, the tianquan went over to examine the body and immediately announced it was a murder.”

“interesting.. did the dragon seem to have any visible injuries? any slashes or punctures? weapons sticking out of his body?”

“it’s tricky to say, as i was just relaying onto the traveler before you arrived, the qixing have long since confiscated the exuvia and are refusing to let anyone see it.” childe joins in, looking down pensively with a hand on his chin.

“it feels too early to draw any conclusions but paimon can confidently say it was not us and our names are squeaky clean! either way, we should get going- we’ve done so much walking up mountains since we got here and it’s making paimon famished.”

“see, you keep saying that but you still float, paimon-“ you hear the traveler say as the pair turns to leave.

“oh shush, you!!”

the air between the remaining two of you is thick with awkwardness. you decide to be one to break it once the traveler and paimon are well away from earshot.

“so, how will your charitable little side quest tie into getting the gnosis?”

“hah, you’ve barely arrived and you’re looking so far ahead?”

“aren’t you? in fact, didn’t you say you’d already ‘devised plan to solve it’ and that my presence was ‘unneeded’?” you question, accentuating the quotings in your sentence with a less than half-assed impression of childe’s own pesky tone at the time.

“jeez, i do not sound like that-“

“not the point-“

“yes yes, whatever… for the record i do already have a plan.” he admits. “unfortunately for you, doc, it is a bit airtight and therefore- your interference is unneeded.”

“y’know what, you’re right. if someone like you is describing their plans as airtight then maybe it’s best if i stay out of its splash zone.” you bite back and childe scoffs.

“who even ordered you be sent here?”

the malicious grin grows on your face with haste.

“the jester.”

“wha-?! argh, that old man…”

—

“ekaterina?”

“yes- how may i help you, sergeant?”

“what would be your recommendations for restaurants ‘round here?”

evening was nearing and you could feel the emptiness eating at your stomach from the inside. the few days that had passed of your stay in liyue were remarkably unremarkable. half of your time was spent cooped up in northland bank with diplomatic or medical paperwork while the other half was you doing whatever discreet investigation inside the city that you could, up to little avail.

childe was moving forward with his scheming while effectively keeping you completely in the dark from it- well not completely, as he wasn’t the only stubborn one out of the two of you. some intel about his flawless, artful plan had “slipped out” (meaning you pried it out of ekaterina) and come to your knowledge- for example, today he’d be going out to meet with the traveler and paimon for another meeting with one of his… contacts, he called it. you just didn’t know where.

luckily your source of discovering that had just walked through the door.

“welcome, friend of childe! and congratulations on the first day of your illustrious career with the fatui.” ekaterina greets formally and you’re too late to stop yourself from visibly cringing.

“i have no intention of joining the fatui.” the traveler says curtly.

“you sound remarkably sure of yourself… remember, we are mere mortals- our ideas are fluid like water. only the tsaritsa truly has a will as solid as permafrost.”

you huff at the receptionist’s straightforwardness.

“i’m sure we can maintain.. beneficial connections without anyone signing away their names. why don’t we keep to the matter of this visit?” with a slightly forced business smile, you try to ease the traveler’s stone-like expression. thought, if you were in her shoes you believe you’d react much the same.

and you would sure as hell never recommend for someone to join the fatui.

“hm, yes, back to the matter at hand- childe tells me that he has upheld his end of your agreement.”

“what agreement? ..oh, the thing about him helping us find a guy?” paimon inquires.

“correct. childe promised he would find someone to break the stalemate. and harbingers do not break their promises lightly.”

this time you succeed in internalizing your reaction to the comment- from your personal experience, childe did not exactly fit that concept. but there was no time for dwelling on that now.

“ah, where is that guy anyway?”

“childe is currently at liuli pavilion.”

bingo.

“liuli pavilion?” you ask.

“oh, oh! paimon knows this one!” paimon exclaims, proceeding to give an insight of the rival cooking styles of liyue and you almost admire how dedicated she is to liking food so… academically. you’re half zoning out at their conversation when your stomach traitorously growls for all ears to hear.

“hey, y/n, why don’t you join us? you’re a friend of childe’s too afterall!” the floating guide propositions naively.

“ah err… i-i wouldn’t describe it like that, plus, i wasn’t invited to this meeting. i’d hate to intrude.” you try to wave it off. while this could be your current best chance at receiving more context on their investigation, you’d rather not do it where childe would catch onto you.

“well it won’t hurt to ask him! c’mon, at least walk with us, you’ll have to find a place to eat anyway.” paimon drags you by the sleeve out of northland bank, along with the traveler, with unexpected strength in her grasp.

the streets are bustling with people, walking back and forth as they also step out to guarantee themselves some dinner. the crowd covers the sight of liuli pavilion’s entrance and it’s not until you’ve actually arrived that childe sees you.

he looks no less than befuddled.

“aha, y-you’ve made it…” he laughs awkwardly, clearly not expecting the current situation to ever occur. “care to explain the plus one?”

“they’re just that! they were also looking for a place to eat so we invited them to join us.” paimon contextualizes, oblivious to the silent glare battle taking place between the two of you.

“w-well anyhow-“ childe effectively retreats from the as promised, i’ve found someone who can help you. someone who can solve the mystery of why the liyue qixing would hide the geo archon’s vessel.”

“so.. where is he? in liuli pavilion?”

“he certainly is. come, i’ll… introduce you.” he intends to sound cheerful but the last part of his sentence comes out the smidgen most strained as his eyes flicker to you momentarily.

“i took the liberty of setting up a business dinner, as per liyue custom.”

the traveler and paimon walk ahead and get distracted with the warm welcome of the restaurant’s staff while you and childe try not to jump to an argument then and there.

“trust me, i resisted this impromptu invite as much as i could.” you mutter, preferring to look at the surroundings rather than the harbinger beside you.

“good, because you won’t be joining anyway.” he replies coldly as he starts walking inside ahead of you.

“at least let me see the damn restaurant first, maybe i won’t join your table but that doesn’t mean i won’t eat there.”

“how will i know you’re not listening in on our busine-“

“childe? y/n? c’mon, let’s get to our table!” paimon calls out from further into the pavilion.

as you round to the reserved table, you see a brown-haired man in refined amber clothing seated at the far end of it, tea in hand. somehow you think you’ve seen him before but only out in the streets, perhaps at third-round knockout listening to the storyteller at the front tables.

“yes yes, i’m here.” childe steps up, half-sheepish at his late arrival. “unfortunately, y/n won’t be joining us as they have other matters to attend to.” he says like you’re not standing right beside him.

“really? but y/n didn’t say anything, plus, they seemed like they were awfully hungry-“

“forgive the intrusion but, childe, might this be the same y/n you’ve mentioned before?”

the man at the table joins in and childe looks like he’s promptly died on the spot. you, however, look elated at the revelation.

so elated that you don’t see the flush of red that plagues childe’s face and ears.

“why yes, i might just be.” the grin on your face seems only friendly to the other three and only the harbinger feels it’s real sting of triumph.

“then, please, let us all eat together.”

you all waste no more time to do so, childe sits on the man’s right, you sit beside him while the traveler and paimon mirror you on the other side- well, paimon at least floats on top of the chair.

“allow me to introduce mr. zhongli, consultant to an organization known as wansheng… and a trusted associate of the fatui.”

“wansheng?” the traveler asks.

“indeed.” the redhead answers. “wansheng’s line of work can be… sensitive at times. let’s just say they understand when discretion is needed. and we, the fatui, have always been glad to do business with friends who walk in the shadows.”

“w-walk in the shadows..?” paimon shivers.

“it is an honor to meet you. i have heard tell of you from mondstat.” zhongli turns to you. “you as well, doctor, i have been meaning to arrange for us to meet ever since hearing word of you from childe.”

you’re pleasantly surprised by him calling you doctor for a moment, as no one has ever really referred to you in such a respectful manner. sure, childe and others have called you “doc” playfully but never fully doctor.

and then you remember who the title is usually reserved for.

“discretion… shadows… ah! is wansheng some kind of business involving… ‘dealing’ with people?” paimon panics.

“indeed. it is as you have guessed.”

“ahh!!” she screams.

“don’t worry, wansheng is a funeral parlor.” you assure her amusedly and paimon’s fear shifts to confusion.

zhongli cluelessly nods in affirmation. “the wansheng funeral parlor organizes burials. we ensure that those who pass on do so in peace.”

“e-eh?”

you hear childe laugh warmly from beside you, the warmest you’ve heard from him in years. “did you think he was some sort of hired killer? the fatui calls many such people friends, but the wansheng funeral parlor does not dabble in such business… well, ostensibly.”

“ostensibly?” you question.

“well, they are still- ah, i shouldn’t say too much. in any case, i brought you to meet mr. zhongli because…”

“because i can bring you to see rex lapis’ vessel.” the consultant follows up plainly.

“what?!” exclaims paimon.

“ha, don’t be so surprised. sure, the geo archon’s body has been squirreled away by order of the tianquan ningguang… but first, let’s hear what mr. zhongli has to say, shall we?”

how childe managed to hide such a supposed fatui associate, an insanely useful one at that, from you with all the snooping around you’d been doing is beyond your mortal comprehension. what baffles you even more is his unwavering determination to keep you as far away from the entire operation as possible, going against the order of your involvement that came directly from not only dottore, the very second fatui harbinger, but also the director of all of the fatui himself.

unfortunately you’ll still need to wait until zhongli preaches his tale before you get to strangle childe where he stands.

“rex lapis may be the prime of adepti, but he is ultimately an adeptus. many adepti have left us over the millennia- this is the inexorable trend.”

zhongli turns to the traveler. “the times have changed- you must have felt it too when you were at jueyun karst.” with the travelers confirmation, he continues. “as you have seen, the time of adepti is ending, and the time of mankind is slowly dawning.”

the dinner proceeds with talks of the rite of passing and as the traveler and zhongli become more well acquainted, they all agree to leave liuli pavilion and further discuss their arrangements.

“you can go if you want to, don’t worry about me. i might just have a few more drinks…” childe dismisses the two travelers.

“and me also. somebody needs to teach a certain other someone how to use chopsticks if we’re to stay in liyue for a good while.” you imply half-jokingly, grateful that the two get on their way quick so you can give the redhead beside you an exclusive earful.

as you feel your cheeks start to warm with the burn of the alcohol, you down decisively the last one of your drinks for the night and slam the cup on the table with vigor.

“am i some sort of joke to you?”

childe almost chokes on his own beverage at the suddenness. “e-excuse me?”

“actually no, let me rephrase that- do you think it’s funny to play around with the job i’ve been assigned here and purposefully leave me to wander around streets i don’t know like a bumbling idiot while you keep contacts like mr.fucking-rex-lapis-historian under your belt?” you practically bark.

“y/n, please, i think you might’ve drank too mu-“

“answer the question or so help me celestia, i will leave this restaurant with my hands as red as that stupid scarf of yours.”

the harbinger huffs. “alright alright! no i don’t think it’s funny to do… all of what you said. but i don’t think that’s fair- this is my mission and it’s been running smoothly since before you even got here. at least i thought it was until they decided to send more manpower with zero forewarning, do you know how insulting that is?”

“how is it insulting to have backup in case something goes wrong? that’s all i’m here for- to help, and ideally help with the investigation. but i can’t do that if i don’t know where the hell jueyun karst is, much less where else to go to look for clues.”

childe only sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “you’re right… i shouldn’t alienate you from what’s your assignment too. but let me keep up with my plan for now and if something goes awry, i’ll call you. i’ll fill you in on it tomorrow morning.”

you nod firmly- easier than you thought it’d be.

“now will you please teach me how to use these damned sticks?”

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