Childe X Reader - Blog Posts

These guys are super simps.... :-}

Wedding Night Sex with Genshin Men

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Pantalone, Dottore, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, bridal carry, mating press, gentle sex, mating bites, rough sex, torn clothes, wall sex, cunnilingus

A/N: It was between this and arranged marriage. Might do that one another time.

Kaeya, being the gentleman that he is, carries you in his arms through the door, lavishing your face and neck with lots of kisses. However once you're all alone he cannot hold back any longer. He'd had to walk all the way to the bedroom with a semi-boner, that really needs taking care of, and what better way then to bury it inside your pussy for the rest of the night?

Diluc makes sure that your wedding night, like all others, makes you feel special. He takes his sweet time taking off your wedding dress, kissing your body, making you sigh and moan and arch as he puts his mouth on you and gets to have the thing he's secretly been craving this whole time. Forget the damn cake, all he wanted for dessert was your cunt.

Itto could have been parting it up longer but why would he when he had something, no someone better to spend his time and energy on. His beautiful new bride, who he can't wait to mating press into sweet oblivion. Speaking of mating, tonight is the night he finally gets to bite you, make you his, with his fangs, kisses, hard cock thrusting in and out of that pretty, wet pussy, making you come all over his cock and balls right before he fills you up with his own cum.

Childe had a very hard time not teasing you all night before you got to your bedroom. You looked so damn beautiful he could hardly hold back, but he did, if only because he knew you'd give him the best time of his life once you were alone. He couldn't stop touching you, his hands, his mouth, his knee between your legs, his fingers digging into your dress to take it off in a hurry, his pants barely down his legs before he thrust his cock deep and started pounding away.

Pantalone is very patient with you. His cock is almost tearing through his pants but he can wait until you get undressed. He can wait for you to shyly crawl on top of him, straddle his face and part your pussy folds for his skilled tongue. The man could watch you come again and again just from his mouth alone, but alas you need more then that, he knows it, your pussy knows it. He would never deny you on your wedding night. You can still stay on top of him, besides he rather likes to watch your expression as you lose yourself from his cock.

Dottore can't wait for the bed, he's been holding back long enough, smiling through it all. The wall it is, your legs held up, spread just like your cunt, ready for what ever he's going to give you. He will absolutely make is so you can't walk the next day, or even talk from how sore your voice will be from moaning and repeating his name in pleasure.

Zhongli has been waiting to get his hands all over you since he saw you in your wedding dress. You do loo good in it, heavenly even, too bad it stands between him and you. At least until he tears it to tiny shreds with his fangs and claws, unable to hold back from clamming you as his. He's snarling, growling, his horns and tail on full display as he ruts into your pussyhole again and again, making you yell his name so loud it leaves no doubt to whose bride you are.

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 tartaglia x m!reader — 3.8k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: amab reader, reader is a dom at first then switches halfway through, reader is mentioned to be wearing lingerie, light feminization (childe says pussy once), use of good boy amongst other pet names, light degradation, praise (for both reader and childe), childe sucks reader's dick, childe also eats reader's ass, cockwarming (childe can't take it LMAO), no aftercare written but it is given, childe licks ur fingers to clean them, mating press, dirty talk. lmk if i missed any!

KAI SAYS: almost 4k words of pure smut haha but like omg i wrote this so late at night with my tip so pls spare me AND!!! this is my return post so...

Tartaglia knows you’re doing it on purpose now, because how can you not be? He whimpers, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink as he feels you clench around him. “Baby, please.” He whines out, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I-I can’t—baby, it’s been thirty minutes.” Thirty minutes he’d been buried to the hilt in you; his dick hard and twitching as it stuffes you full.

Tartaglia whines. He could faintly hear the sound of you taking a deep breath, but that’s not what he was focusing on. No, he was focusing more on the way you squeeze him as you inhale. It was on purpose, he knew you couldn’t just be faking this.

With a deep breath, doing his best to steel his nerves, Tartaglia pressed his thumbs into the joysticks of his console again. “I…” He murmurs softly into the skin of your neck. “I don’ think I can beat this level.”

“No.” You coo in that sickeningly sweet voice of yours. “You can.”

Tartaglia nods his head, your encouragement helping lift his mood somewhat. But, true to his word, he dies yet again. Tartaglia lets out a pathetic whine when he’s greeted with the ‘You Died!’ Screen for the nth time tonight. This bet was made specifically with his torture in mind. You knew he would never beat this level, so to “motivate” him, as you put it, you would sit nice and still on his sensitive cock until he beat it.

“Can’t you move just a little, please.” Tartaglia begs, his dignity long gone. You’re evil for this, he thinks, but all of that is lost when you shift your hips slightly, his mind going blank at just the smallest friction.

He feels his tip bump your prostate, and Tartaglia knows he’s hit it when you moan out, your mouth right by his ear as his fingers press harshly against the buttons of his game console. “P-please!” He whines again. “I-I need you t’move, just a little, just a little, please.”

“Maybe, if you last another thirty minutes, I’ll consider it.” You hum, and Archons Tartaglia thinks he's losing his mind with the way your breath trickles over his ear. “But, if you make it through the level…” Your voice trails off, but Tartaglia knows what you meant.

If he makes it through the level, Tartaglia could finally fuck you. Push you against the bed, wipe that stupid smirk off your face, maybe make you sit on his face until you cry. The options, at least to him, are endless.

You trail your hand over the neck of his shirt, and Tartaglia’s eyes dart from the screen to you. You, all dressed up in your white lace panties and thigh highs, with your chest arched against his chest and here he was, still fully clothed.

Well, only thanks to you.

You, like the cruel man you are, wouldn’t let Tartaglia strip. You’d forced him to watch as you changed, stripping off your pyjamas and slipping on the lace lingerie while he sat there, half sure he was drooling. And then you’d gone and pressed him to the edge of the bed, forcing him to sit as you pulled out his leaking dick, not even bothering to pull his sweats all the way down. Then you sat your pretty hole on his dick, and Tartaglia couldn’t pull his eyes away from the way your ass practically swallowed him whole.

And then, began this whole ordeal of pure torture.

You’re sat on his lap, facing Tartaglia as his arms wrap around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he looks over your body and behind you to the console gripped tightly in his hands.

Tartaglia’s eyes dart to you, and they widen as he watches you shift on his dick, your tip forcing its way over the hem of your panties, now drooling pre all over his shirt. Tartaglia squeezes his eyes shut. You press a kiss right under his ear and Tartaglia twitches inside you. You let out a lewd moan and he doesn’t think he can take it anymore.

Not another thirty minutes, or another five.

Tartaglia’s hands shake, and he’s forced to watch his in-game character die again. “Fuck…” He whispers, trying not to roll his hips into your heat. “I… You’re torturing me. Can’t take this.” He whines.

You shake your head. “C’mon, baby.” You coo, using the nickname Tartaglia always uses for you. It sounds almost mocking the way it slips from your pretty lips, but he doesn’t dwell on it. “You might wanna hurry up, or I’ll have to pull out my old dildo to help me…”

No! Tartaglia thinks, and he voices such thoughts with the aggressive shake of his head against you. I can do better than a stupid dildo!

“P-Please don’t.” he says weakly. “I’m trying, I’m trying.” Tartaglia starts to concentrate on his console once again, doing his best to ignore the squeeze of your ass and the warmth of your walls.

Your tip drools pre across his shirt, twitching gently against the fabric. Tartaglia’s mouth waters. He wants to taste you, wants to bury his face between your thighs and lick every drop up. It’s an indulgence he wants to become reality more than anything.

“Can I at least touch you, please?" he asks desperately, gaze not leaving your tip. Tartaglia wants to be closer to you, to have a hand on your soft skin, to play with your dick that was so close to the cumming. He’s ready to do anything in order to make you cum, to feel you pulse around his dick. He’s losing his mind, and the game was the least of his worries. Tartaglia wants you.

"Touch me before you finish the level, and there'll be consequences." You hum. "And trust me, if you think this is bad, just wait until you see what I have in mind." you press your lips gently against Tartaglia’s neck, trailing from his adam's apple to that sweet spot right under his ear. "I'm sure you'd deprive some sick form of enjoyment from that, though."

Tartaglia whimpers at the threat. He doesn’t know what would be worse: the current situation or the punishment you offer. Sick form of enjoyment… His mind echoes. He would most likely enjoy anything you gave him right now.

And like an answer to his prayers, you shift on his dick again. Tartaglia watches as your tip pokes above the fabric of your lace panties, even higher than before. The used-to-be white was now a dark grey with the way your pre had stained and wet through the fabric. Your panties were completely soaked through, the bulge from your dick covered in pre from your leaking tip, poking just above the hem.

Slowly, you tug your dick out of the panties, making sure to slather your fingers in your precum before pressing them against Tartaglia’s lips. "Clean them up." You whisper, and the sound of your voice almost makes him melt.

The instant your fingers press against his lips, Tartaglia is eagerly licking them into his mouth, his tongue swirling your digits around and coating them in his spit. He didn’t hesitate to continue sucking on your fingers, despite knowing they were already clean enough.

“Such an eager boy,” You murmur as you yank your fingers from Tartaglia's lips. There’s a string of drool that connects your hand to his pouty lips as he gives you another pleading look.

“Will you let me touch you now?” He begs, “Please, I’ve been so good for you!” Tartaglia licks his lips, savouring the faint taste of you. He wants more, he wants to grab you by the waist and bury his face between your thighs and suck you off until you’re nothing but a mess inside his mouth.

You bring your fingers back down to your dick, swiping them over your tip and harshly pressing them against Tartaglia’s mouth. “Suck.” You command in a harsh voice, completely ignoring his previous question.

Tartaglia’s lips go back around your fingers again. He doesn’t need to be told twice when you’re the one telling him. He easterly laps at your fingers, ignoring the drool that threatens to spill from the corner of his lips. You press your fingers down against his tongue and he chokes lightly, lifting his blue eyes to meet yours,

When you finally pull your fingers out of his mouth, Tartaglia buries his head into your neck about to ask to touch you again—only for you to beat him to it. “You get two minutes to touch me, but you can only use your hands.” You start. “And, we have to stay in this position. No pulling out or thrusting." You press a kiss against Tartaglia’s lips. "Think of it as... encouragement to finish the level faster."

Tartaglia nods happily at your words, pulling off your neck to get a better view of you. “Thank you—thank you, baby, needed this.” He slurs as his eyes rake down your exposed body before honing in on your sensitive cock. He wishes you’d let him lick that instead of your fingers, but you were clear on your rules for the two minutes.

Tartaglia has two minutes, a whole two minutes to make you feel good. There’s no way he’s let them go to waste.

He wastes no time when the game is finally paused. Tartaglia cups your balls gently, feeling the weight of them in his palm. He massages them slowly, his thumb rubbing up and down the underside of your dick, feeling the warmth and the leaking pre that slipps down your shaft. Tartaglia knows nothing can make you cum in this position, but he can make you squirm, he can tease you.

His other hand wanders up, his fingers ghosting over your skin, drawing circles around your nipples before pinching them gently. He wants to hear you moan, to see you writhe. Tartaglia needs to know he was pleasing you. He gazes at your face, waiting to see a reaction, anything to show that he’s making you feel good.

Your eyes roll back and your dick twitches hard against Tartaglia’s hand. “T-Tartaglia…!” You moan out, your back arching into his chest. Tartaglia’s fingers pull gently at you nipples, tweaking and twisting the nubs between his thumb and pointer finger. Your eyes roll back and Tartaglia whines at the sight, sliding his thumb faster up and down your dick, rolling it over your tip before sliding it against your slit.

He feels your hole clench around his dick, and Tartaglia has to squeeze his eyes shut in concentration to stop himself from bucking into you. He’s about to roll his hand again when it’s suddenly pushed away from your leaking dick. You yank his hands off your nipples too, panting as you do. “Two minutes have passed.” You mumble.

Tartaglia knows you were close from the way you sounded to the way you jerked your hips into his hand. “I’m sorry.” He whines, sounding like he’s carrying the weight of the world in his heart.

With a deep breath, Tartaglia focuses back on the game again, he hopes that this time he’ll finally beat the level. He’s determined, he wants to make you cum, to please you. He needs to win.

You slump against his shoulder, clearly needy. Tartaglia sucks in a breath. You were so close. He thinks. His focus turns back to the game, moving the joystick and pressing the rounded buttons as skillfully as he can manage with you taking his cock to the hilt,

Tartaglia feels you lean forward, your hands dipping under the hem of his shirt. “I wanna see you…” You whine and his face flushes. Tartaglia doesn’t have time to respond before the game console is slipping from his hands and you’re tugging his shirt off his figure.

Another eternity passes as Tartaglia picks up the console once again, doing his best to beat the level. He closes his eyes—just about to give up when the victory music blasts throughout the bedroom. “Finally—fuck, fuck, baby.” Tartaglia groans, tossing the console and pouncing on you.

His lips press against yours, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. Tartaglia is kissing you harshly, his lips flush against yours as your tongue gently swirls with his.

He pulls away after a minute, both of your faces flushed and panting. “I-I’m sorry it took me so long.” Tartaglia apologizes. He wants to please you, make you cum, see you lose control just because of him. He was desperate to feel you squirm against him, he wants to see the way your face would twist in pleasure when he fucks you just right.

Tartaglia slowly pulls out, hissing as he leaves your comforting warmth and is met with the harsh, cold outside air.

“Let me take you, please…” He begs, his eyes filled with desire and the need to have you. Tartaglia wanted you—no, needed you. His hand wanders back to your dick, wrapping his palm around your shaft and quickly jerking you up and down at a messy pace.

Tartaglia would do anything to have you come undone on his dick.

“Uh-huh.” You whine, and Tartaglia thinks it’s cute how all your confidence diminishes the instant you're offered some dick.

He watches you twist your body to lay flat against the bed on your back. Slowly, your legs splay into the air before you pull them back and bend them at your knees. Your ass, all empty and clenching around nothing, is now fully exposed to Tartaglia. Your hole is stretched already, from the much too long of a time you spent just sitting on his dick. Your own cock lays across your tummy, twitching and drooling uselessly,

Tartaglia sucks in a breath at the sight of your hole. His dick is throbbing at the sight, pressing angrily against his tummy, so hard and needy. He wants to do nothing more than bury himself inside you, to feel your warm muscle clench around him once more.

Slowly, he lowers himself into a kneeling position right in front of you. Tartaglia dips his head to your ass, pressing light kisses across the curve of your thighs. He trails his mouth down to your dick, taking the tip into his mouth. His eyes roll back at the feeling of finally having you in his mouth. Tartaglia sucks harshly, bobbing his head up and down your length. He runs his tongue over the underside of your shaft.

Tartaglia swirls his tongue around your overly sensitive tip, watching and depriving pure enjoyment of the way your hips buck into his mouth messily. You throw an arm over your face, trying to muffle your breathless moans and flushed face. Tartaglia gives you a harsh suck for warning, letting you know that if you don’t remove your hand now, things would get worse.

You, of course, comply, pushing your hand to the sheets and clenching them in your fist.

Tartaglia hums happily, the vibrations travelling across your shaft. He feels you twitch in his mouth and your legs thrash beside his head, squeezing and pulsing by his ears as he goes faster, making sure to let the drool spill from his lips as he moves his head.

Tartaglia pushes his lips down to your base bringing a hand to fondle your balls gently and you whine, your back arching off the bed. Your hand goes to tangle itself into Tartaglia’s hair, pushing your dick deeper down his throat. “I—holy shit—I’m c-close!” You whine, and that was enough of a signal to pull off your dick.

Tartaglia smears kisses across your ass, ignoring your desperate whines and cries, before eventually leading to your puffy hole, all nice and stretched for him. He’s quick to bury his mouth against you, already feeling his brain go mushy at the feeling. His tongue slips into you easily, and you whine at the feeling.

Tartaglia fucks his tongue into you with great fervour, not even caring for his hard dick. All he can think about is the taste of you on his tongue, the way your hole clenches down so nicely against his mouth and those sweet, sweet moans of: “M-More, please, need you so bad!” That slip from your lips and get his hips rocking his dick into the side of the mattress.

Tartaglia’s tongue pushes and prods into you, again and again until he hears you moan loudly. His eyes dart up, barely able to catch the way your back arches. Your legs shake around him yet again, your thighs squeezing around his ears, which only drives him to thrust his tongue into you further. Drool slips down his chin, but he doesn’t care, all he wants is to taste you again, and again, because, fuck, if he died right here, between your thighs, he would die a happy man.

“Right there!” You cry, Your legs threatening to squeeze tightly on Tartaglia’s head. He pushes his tongue in again, thrusting it in and out of your hole with a scary precision, making sure he hits your prostate every time.

“O-Oh, my—fuck, can’t take it!” You whine and he smirks against your tightening hole. “I need you, please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease!” You’re a complete mess, babbling nonsense as he eats you out, eyes rolling back and legs shaking in ecstasy,

All it took was him shoving a finger in, curling it in time with his tongue, for you to cum. Tartaglia eagerly pulls off your ass, watching as your dick twitches against your tummy and ropes of cum shoot from your member. He waits until you're finished before pressing his face against the mess you just made and licking it clean.

Tartaglia looks up at you from his position against your belly. “I….” He whines. “I’m still hard.” He gives an apologetic smile before going back to his first position in front of the bed, this time standing up. He lifts your collapsed legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he slaps his cock beside your limp one.

As quickly as he can, Tartaglia grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand and smears it all over his shaft. “Help me out, pretty boy.” He whines and you whimper at the nickname. Slowly, you push yourself onto your elbows just enough to push your hand to his dick and help him spread the lube.

Tartaglia doesn’t even bother to continue once you start, only throwing his head back with a loud groan. “That’s it, o-oh, archons you’re good at this.” His eyes squeeze shut and Tartaglia has to stop himself from cumming on the spot for the nth time tonight. He doesn’t even bother to lube your hole, only murmuring a sweet, “This pussies wet enough for me, right?” before he’s pressing a messy kiss to your neck.

“Not a pussy.” You slur, but he doesn't take any mind.

“D-Don’t worry, baby.” Tartaglia coos as he presses his thick tip against your weak hole. “Promise it’ll feel so good…” He wants to be inside you, to make you come again and again.

And suddenly, he’s halfway in, the thick of Tartaglia’s shaft being swallowed almost whole by your pretty ass was almost enough to make him cum right then and there. You whine lowly, back instinctively arching into him, forcing yourself deeper onto his dick.

“Fuck, baby, look what you do t’me.” He groans, pulling out so it’s just his tip stuck in your pretty, clenching hole. Tartaglia fucks his tip into you, watching it messily slide out then in, then out then in, over and over again until he can’t take it anymore and can’t help but want more.

Tartaglia—like the pathetic man he knows he is—can’t take it anymore. He pushes in fully, but just before he does, spits a large glob of drool from his lips to the tip of your spent cock watching it twitch under the feeling. He laughs, watching your dick twitch back to life. “And to think you get off to me spitting on you.” He murmurs, before finally thrusting in fully, in one, harsh movement.

The moan you let out is so pretty and high, and Tartaglia can feel his balls grow heavy at the sound. Your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the lewd squelch of his dick pressing in, in, in and against your prostate, his tip knocking easily at it.

Tartaglia pistons his hips into you, basking in the moans and pleas for “more, more, more!” that slipped from your pretty lips. He’s pounding into you, and Tartaglia watches your head fall back against the pillow. Your hands shake as you desperately reach out to grab onto the sheets for leverage as he pushes your legs up, leaning down onto your body as he forces you into a mating press.

And, oh, Tartaglia feels like he just slipped so much deeper into you, and with the way your walls squeeze and clench and you moan his name like a mantra—Tartaglia is sure he’s just died and reached heaven.

His thrusts start to lose their rhythm, but they still manage to fill you up so much that, before Tartaglia can process what’s happening, you're crying out, your ass clenching so tightly against him he thinks he sees stars.

“I—I’m close, ‘m so close!” You cry and Tartaglia can’t help but bury his face into your neck as he thrust into your ass.

“Me too, baby.” He whimpers out. Tartaglia reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his much larger ones, before letting out a loud moan. “Together, please, baby, cum together.”

And you’re eagerly nodding your head, a mix of “yes” and “please” leaving your lips. Tartaglia isn’t even pulling out anymore, just knocking his hips against yours—no rhythm or pattern, just instinct as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Cummin’ o-oh—fuck!” You whine and Tartaglia instantly does too, feeling the way your dick spurts thick ropes of white onto your chest and his only drives him to the edge. He buries himself as deep as he can before collapsing onto you, pressing his full weight onto his hips. Tartaglia shoots a thick load of his seed into your awaiting hole, whining in content as he feels you milk his cock, squeezing down on him.

You’re panting, laying on the bed with Tartaglia pressed on top of you. His arms snake around your waist, tugging and twisting your connected bodies so that he’s spooning you, his chin resting on top of you’re head.

After a minute of rest, Tartaglia’s arms squeeze around your waist. “Love you, so much.” He murmurs tiredly.

“Promise?” You giggle back, despite the feeling of your exhaustion weighing heavy on your eyelids.

“Always an’ forever.” Tartaglia whispers sweetly. His arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer as the two of you bask in the afterglow in each other’s arms. “I’ll love you, always and forever.”

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

MORNING BLOOM ﹒🌷

childe x gn! reader

waking up with childe will never get old ♡

cw : nothing really, sleeping in the same bed, kissing?, L word😒 (i love you). first fic, cringing so hard😭

waking up, smelling a florescent scent, the scented candle he had bought you not so long ago..

face stuffed into the silk pillow, you raise your head to see him smiling at you, his face all red looking as if he was trying to.. laugh?

“what’re you gonna laugh about?”

“i’m not laughing”

“yeah? ok”

taking the pillow underneath your head you throw it right it is face, cat hair flying off it.. your recently new kitten seems to have taken a liking to your pillow. he spits out the cat hair that landed in his mouth. Grabbing you seconds later, making you lay on top of him.

“acting childish now?”

“oh, like you wouldn’t do the same” looking up at him with a huge grin on your face

he takes his hands and delicately place them on the sides of your face, pulling you in for a small peck.

you can tell he brushed his teeth before you woke up, tasting mint a small hint of what seems to be coffee? maybe tea. doesn’t matter

“how long have you been awake for?”

“mm, around.. 2 hours now”

“oh”

“hm?”

“did you eat breakfast?”

“only coffee”

you rest your head on his chest, hair falling in front of your face. You blow it out of your face, the small wind hitting childes face, his eyes squint. Your cold breath was always going to be something new to childe no matter how many times you blow in his face for whatever reason.

You’re still feeling tired and lazy, you want to sleep again. You can feel your eyelids trying not to shut. you close telling yourself “Just close them you won’t fall asleep”.

You were wrong. Like always, you fell asleep.

Childe notices the faint snoring coming from your mouth, he sighs. Pulling the covers over the both of you, giving you small kiss. He knows you felt it when he sees you smile faintly. Closing the lamp with a small light coming from it.

“I love you”

﹒ . ⊹ ⁺ ₊ 🌷 ₊ ⁺ ⊹ . ﹒

Yandere Childe Fanfic Idea

Okay so Imagine a Yandere chan and Info chan dynamic between him and reader.

Basically, he's a lovesick psycho who would do anything for his crush, and you offer to help him. All he needs to do in returns is plant bugs everywhere so you can gather information not just for yourself, but to help him aswell. What you don't know though, is that he's killing and mudrering everyone for you.

So to anyone who's willing to write this, please do and tag me bcs I'm honestly curious on how this would go.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑻𝑶𝑩𝑬𝑹 ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

—༉‧₊˚. “ Whatcha watching? ”

featuring. Childe from Genshin impact MAU | kink. peeking

synopsis. You were heading toward your friend childes dorm room to give him some college hw he missed out on in one of your early morning lectures. When you go to his place however he doesnt respond leaving you no choice but to let yourself in.

authors note. I think I hate this one…but that may just be me…

You knock on Childe's apartment door, waiting to drop off his college homework. After minutes later of no answer, you reached out for the door handle to find out the door was unlocked. Since the two of you knew each other for a while you thought it wouldn’t be that much of an invasion of privacy letting yourself in his apartment without him knowing.

Opening the door, you step inside and head towards his bedroom. As you approached, you heared moans coming from some type of device.

Peeking around the corner of the halfway opened bedroom door, your eyes widen as you saw Childe sitting on his bed, pants around his ankles, stroking his hard cock while watching porn.

The video plays on repeat, showing a girl who looks exactly like you in a skimpy outfit, moaning and pleasuring herself. Childe's eyes are glued to the screen, completely absorbed in the lewd scene. His hand moving rhythmically along his shaft, squeezing and stroking it with increasing intensity.

You watch him for a few moments, mesmerized by his focused expression, the way his muscles flex with each movement. How his orange hair falls messily over his forehead, and how his blue eyes shine with lust as he continues to touch himself.

Noticing your presence, Childe jumped, startled. His face flushed red with embarrassment as he quickly closes the laptop. He scrambles to pull up his sweatpants, trying to hide his still-hard member.

“[Y/N!] What are you doing here? I didn't hear you come in...”

He stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in such a compromising position. His blue eyes dart around nervously, unable to meet your gaze.

“It's not what it looks like, I swear! I was just...uh...researching for a project...”

As he spoke, you noticed a wet spot forming on the front of his pants, betraying his obvious arousal. The sight made you feel all warm and you find yourself getting turned on by what you just saw.

You decide to play along with his story, not wanting to make him feel too uncomfortable.

“Oh, research? That's interesting. What kind of project could possibly require that kind of research…”

You asked with a playful smirk, watching as Childe squirmed under your scrutiny. His cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red, as he fidgets with his hands.

Childe shifts uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze as he tries to come up with a believable excuse. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair, messing it further.

“W-well, you know how I've been working on that short story for my creative writing class? I was just trying to get some, uh, inspiration for a particularly steamy scene...”

He trailed off, his voice wavering slightly. His eyes flicker towards you briefly before darting away again, as if he's afraid to look at you directly.

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his state. A mischievous idea began to form in your mind, and you decide to have a little more fun with the situation.

“Oh, I see. Well, since you're in need of inspiration, maybe I could help you out. After all, I am your muse, aren't I?”

You take a step closer to him, your voice taking on a teasing lilt. Childe's eyes widen, and he swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly in his throat.

“Y-you? My muse? What..makes you think that?”

Despite his words, you notice his gaze lingering on your curves, taking in the way your clothing hugged your figure in just the right ways.

“Come on, Childe. You know Im not dumb..”

“If you have a thing for me just say it already.”

You reach out and trail a finger along his jawline, feeling the heat of his skin. Childe shudders at your touch, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I... .. fuck.”

Encouraged by his reaction, you press closer to him, your breasts brushing against his chest.

Childe's breath became faster now, his pupils dilating with desire. He seemed to be fighting against his own urges, torn between his shame and his growing need for release.

“What's wrong with a little harmless fun? I promise, it'll be just like in the porno you were watching earlier.”

You let your hand slide down his chest, tracing the contours of his abs through his shirt. Childe's muscles tense under your touch, and a low groan escaped his lips.

“We shouldn't...”

But even as he protests, his body betrayed him. His erection strained against his pants, making it so he can no longer hide his arousal. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face, as he grapples with his desires and his sense of propriety.

Sensing his weakness, you decide to push him further. You lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper.

“Don't you want to know what it feels like? It’ll help tons..with your ‘research’ ”

You nipped gently at his earlobe, Childe shudders, a soft gasp escaping his lips. His hands come to rest on your hips, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly dissipating as he gives in.

“ God, [Y/N]... I want you so bad...”

He finally admits, his voice thick with lust. You smile triumphantly, knowing that you've broken through his defenses. You pull back slightly, your eyes locking with his as you both acknowledge the raging desire between you.

“Then why don't you show me what you've learned from all that research? I'm sure you can teach me a thing or two...”

With that, you press your lips against his in a passionate kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth to taste him fully. Childe responded eagerly, his hands roaming over your body as he explores every curve.

You break the kiss, panting heavily, and start to undo the buttons of your shirt. Childe's eyes widen as more and more skin is revealed to him, and he licks his lips in anticipation.

“You're so beautiful.”

His voice is filled with awe and desire, and it sends a thrill through your body. You finish unbuttoning your shirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and skirt.

Childe leans in, his lips trailing hot kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts from their confines. He groans appreciatively at the sight, his eyes dark with lust.

“Touch me, Childe...”

You guide his hands to your breasts, encouraging him to explore and caress them. Childe doesn't need any more encouragement, and he begins to knead and squeeze your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

As he continues to worship your breasts, you reach down and start to lower his pants, freeing his rock-hard erection. You wrap your hand around it, stroking him slowly as he groans in pleasure.

“Oh god, [Y/N]... That feels amazing...”

He thrusts into your hand, his hips moving in time with your strokes. You can feel the heat emanating from his member, and it only fuels your own desire.

*You release him from your grip and push him back onto the bed. Straddling him, you grind your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressing against your clothed sex. Childe's hands grip your hips, helping you move against him.

The friction between your bodies builds as you grind against Childe, your clothed sex rubbing against his hard length. Moans of pleasure escape both of your lips as the sensations become more intense.

“Fuck, [Y/N]... You feel so good... I need to be inside you.”

His voice is rough with desire, and you can feel his hips bucking up against you, seeking more contact. You reach down and unzip your skirt, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in just your lacy panties.

Childe's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze focused on the damp patch on your underwear. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them aside, exposing your wet folds to his hungry gaze.

You position yourself over him, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto him, inch by inch, until he's fully sheathed inside you.

A deep moan tears from your throat as you feel him stretching you, filling you completely. Childe grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights the urge to thrust up into you.

“Oh fuck, [Y/N]... You're so tight... So perfect...”

He starts to move beneath you, his hips rising to meet your downward motions. The rhythm building between you, growing more intense with each passing second.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you ride him harder. Your breasts bounce with each movement, and Childe reaches up to cup them, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples once more.

The combination of sensations is almost too much to bear, and you feel your climax building deep within you. Your inner walls start to flutter around Childe's cock, and he moans in response.

“I'm going to cum, Childe... Don't stop...”

Your words spur him on, and he thrusts up into you harder, faster, his own release approaching. With a final, powerful thrust, you both reach your peaks, crying out.

As your orgasm crashes over you, your body trembles with the force of it. Wave after wave of pleasure washes through you, and you cling to Childe, your nails digging into his chest as you ride out your climax.

Childe's grip on your hips tightens, and his body goes rigid beneath you. With a guttural moan, he releases inside you, his hot seed filling you up. The feeling of his essence pulsing within you sends another shockwave of pleasure through your body, prolonging your orgasm.

For several long moments, you both remain still. Finally, Childe loosens his grip on your hips, and you collapse onto his chest, both of you panting heavily.

You giggle softly, nuzzling into his neck. Childe wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he catches his breath.

“Round two?” Childe joked suppressing a laugh.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

Gosh. When are we going to marry Childe?

Chapter 6: The Final Day

📂 – pairing for this chapter : scaramouche x reader and abit of childe x reader

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📂 – author’s note : all credit goes to their rightful owner! I do not own anything unfortunately

📂 – word count : 8.7k

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The Empress’ demeanour was as remote and as cold as a glacier. Childe stood dazed as he looked at her profile. Her low, gentle voice captivated his ears but her icy voice even more so. How would it sound if she said his name like that?

Childe swallowed dryly as his imagination made his head spin. He wanted to kneel before that overbearing empress and pour kisses on her hand. He wanted to hear her speak in that cold voice and issue commands to him. How would it feel to obey her orders and then to rebel?

It had started out as curiosity. He was curious about the empress of Inazuma, and so he travelled as far as the palace to see her. Despite rumours that she was made of steel or ice, she was surprisingly soft and charming towards birds.

The rumours weren’t exactly wrong, however, he was surprised to see another side of her. He felt sympathy for the way she put up a strong front while she cried in secret. He heard her talking to herself while trying to hold back her tears. If the people had seen this side of her, they would think she is not the emperor’s beloved empress. 

But to him, she was incredible. He had thought that beneath her strong appearance was a vulnerable figure, but he realised that soon enough that it was false.

The feeling of curiosity and attraction turned into anxiety after actually meeting her. Why did she ignore him when he tried to make himself known? Why did she pretend not to know him? Why wasn’t she trying to look for him? Why didn't she stop Lumine when she was impersonating her? Were the comforts of the letters, the jokes that they had been shared, simply a one-sided feeling? Or perhaps it would hurt her pride if someone were to take care of her.

But as Childe drew closer to her, he became even more angry. He didn’t like seeing the things that burdened her or caused her pain. He knew from experience that controlling one’s reputation was difficult, to the point that he had almost gotten in a fight about it in the past.

“Are you jealous of Lumine, by any chance?”

As the Empress’ jaw hardened at Scaramouche’s insult, Prince Childe was overcome with an even more violent impulse than in the dining room. The frozen empress was charming, but the things that made her that way were definitely not. He could hear Diluc’s voice in his head, repeatedly telling him to not cause an incident involving the Emperor of the Inazuma Empire. It irritated Childe so much that he could not officially stand up to defend the Empress' honour.

“Your Majesty the Emperor. You must be more discerning.”

Eventually, Childe spoke. He knew Diluc would be furious when he found out about this. Their king was bedridden so the court affairs were in chaos. Did he really want to antagonise the Emperor of the Inazuma Empire? Despite this, Childe couldn’t help but speak up.

“This doesn’t concern you, Prince Childe.”

“I’m a witness. How can I keep my nose out of this?”

Childe added a grin as he stood next to the Empress.

“Your Majesty, do not worry. I will be the one to spread rumours about the truth. Your reputation will not be tarnished by this mistake.”

Things could have gotten worse if it were not for Diluc, who came running to Prince Childe’s side and stole him away.

“I heard you say something about reputation. Are you changing course?”

Childe walked in silence to the southern palace as Diluc started to nag at him again.

“Do what you usually do, Prince. Don’t fight from the front, fight from behind instead. Why were you trying to start a fight with someone and with the Inazuma Emperor no less? That could have potentially broke our political affairs with the Inazuma Empire? At this rate, us spying on the Inazuma Empire will be exposed soon enough.”

Diluc’s nagging got worse as soon as he closed the door, yet Childe ignored him and pulled up a chair.

“What are you going to do with the chair? Are you going to hit me?”

“Sit down.”

As Diluc sat down, Childe touched his head and forced some of his delusion into him. With a cry, Diluc had turned into a red bird and the clothes he had worn, tumbled to the ground. Diluc’s eyes widened in confusion when he saw Prince Childe taking out a piece of letter from his desk and tied it to his leg.

 -?

“Deliver this to Ayato.”

– …

“I won’t get myself in trouble, so go and deliver it. I’ll fight from behind, just as you said.” 

.

.

.

“Prince Childe seems to be a completely different person than the rumours suggest.”

Countess Jean, who was playing chess nearby, turned her head at my faintly spoken words.

“Hm? What did you say, Your Highness?”

I turned my book upside down and placed it on my lap. Could I tell them this? Would it sound strange?

My ladies-in-waiting knew I was the real letter friend, and so there was no need for me to say anything more. However, I thought it would be helpful if I could change any of the rumours about Prince Childe with my own words…

“Prince Childe. He seems better than I thought.”

I spoke nonchalantly as I picked up my teacup from the table and took a sip. Yoimiya, who was playing opposite of Countess Jean, surreptitiously changed a horse’s position while the Countess was not looking.

“Right. And he knew that the maid and the slave didn’t write those letters! Ah—that was wrong. Anyway, he found out quickly. Even though he’s a womaniser, he’s more faithful than other nobles.”

Countess Jean had slapped Yoimiya on the back of her hand and restored the horse’s original position on the board.

“Yoimiya is right. Though he may seem like a carefree person, he’s not frivolous.”

A lady-in-waiting sitting comfortably on an armchair gave a vindictive laugh.

“Even more so, I liked it when the slave’s lie came to light.”

Other comments from the other ladies-in-waiting started to spring up as well.

“Did you see how his blood pressure went up when she lied to him so shamelessly?” 

“The foreign nobles who mingle with her must have come to their senses by now.” 

However, Beidou, who was silently standing by the door until now had immediately thrown cold water into the situation.

“I don’t believe so.” 

At Beidou’s certain tone, the ladies-in-waiting all turned to her with questioning expressions. The knight nervously scratched her cheek, as if overwhelmed by the beautiful ladies looking at her all at once.

“Baron Thoma is responsible for Miss Lumine’s affairs, and the way he talks about her is…different.”

“Different? How so?”

Yoimiya's eyes were wide as she questioned her. In curiosity, I had set the now empty cup back on the table and had also turned to look at Beidou .

I knew Baron Thoma—he was Scarmouche’s personal secretary, and quite a brilliant man. Moreover, if he was extremely fond of Lumine, it would only be beneficial for her when Baron Thoma comes forward and turns the rumours around.

“Because of Miss Lumine’s beauty and charm, some say that the Emperor and Prince Childe are fighting over her.”

When two conflicting rumours spread, there would at least cause a commotion between people who believed one story or the other. Baron Thoma had definitely planned this out carefully.

Yoimiya shut the chessboard in frustration.

“I absolutely despise her!”

“Watch your mouth, Yoimiya. You are now a lady-in-waiting of the Empress, and offensive language will only hurt Her Majesty’s image.”

“I am careful with my words in front of others, Countess Jean. Yet still…I have no other way to express my emotions!”

Then, as Yoimiya cried out her frustration, there was a tap on the window.

“Queen!”

It had been several days since he came here last, and I quickly got up and opened the window to let him in. I was so happy to see him after such a long time that I held him tightly.

– !

Queen tried to embrace me with his wings, and Yoimiya had finally calmed down and gave a giggle.

“That bird is so sweet. Look at how he holds Her Majesty. Maybe he’s actually not a bird.”

– !

I scolded the ladies for teasing Queen, then I gently placed him on my lap and stroked his head.

Queen's large purple eyes closed as he started to doze off, but he occasionally got startled and looked at me.

“I missed you.”

I confessed my feelings frankly to him, and he peered at me as if he understood me.

“…”

Strange. Why did this bird remind me of Prince Childe? Well, perhaps it was because Prince Childe was the bird’s owner.

“Ah.”

I almost forgot to check the note on his leg. I took the piece of paper from his leg, and opened it while setting Queen aside .

– I had wagered my identity. Why didn't you want to participate in the bet? 

Did Prince Childe know that I was the letter acquaintance or not? A few hours ago, I told myself that the writer was Prince Childe, but I didn’t even have the time to ask him because Scaramouche and I immediately fought…

I hesitated before writing my response.

– Please keep our friendship by letter only. 

Queen watched me patiently as I wrote. As soon as I lifted my hand from the paper, he checked the contents, then made strange noises and started jumping up and down.

– Gu! Gu! Gu!

He seemed to be criticising me on behalf of his owner.

“Don’t be so upset, Queen. I prefer it this way.”

– Gu!

“If your master and I meet each other, we will be the Inazuma Empress and the Snezhnaya Prince, not as friends that are able to speak casually to each other. We would have to be careful about how we behave with each other in front of other people.”

– …

“I have become a source of entertainment because of Scaramouche and Lumine. Under these circumstances, the rumours will worsen if it’s discovered that I’m exchanging letters with a womaniser.”

Maybe it was because Queen had seemed so intelligent, but before I knew it, I was confessing my true feelings.

Queen’s beak opened as if in surprise. I closed his beak shut and hurriedly added an explanation.

“I know your master is not as bad as the rumours say. I think he’s a good person, in fact. Hm? Ha ha, why are you embarrassed?”

.

.

.

Lumine laid down on the bed in a thin lavender nightgown, hugging a cushion. Lying next to her was Scaramouche, who was running his fingers through her soft blonde hair.

“Prince Childe is known for his cruelty and for being a womaniser. Don’t trust people so blindly from now on.”

 “Lumine didn’t know…”

“It’s alright. Anyone can make mistakes. Just don’t make that same mistake in the future.”

“But this isn’t Lumine’s fault, right?”

“Of course. It was that man who had caused a disturbance.”

Lumine leaned her head against Scaramouche’s shoulder.

“But I’m glad His Majesty protected Lumine.”

“I’m glad too. I hope you’re feeling better.”

“Tomorrow is the special banquet! Let’s just relax and socialise with people! I want to be friends with Princess Amber.”

Lumine smiled and patted the cushion like a drum. Scaramouche, who normally would have smiled at her adoorable behaviour, was suddenly as stiff as a stone.

“What’s wrong, Your Majesty?”

“You…”

“Your Majesty?”

“Lumine, you won’t be able to attend the special banquet tomorrow.”

Lumine stared at Scaramouche with wide eyes. He felt sheepish after giving her the unexpected news, except that was not the way it should be.

“What? Why not, Your Majesty?”

“There can only be twenty special guests.”

“Can’t I be one of them?”

“The Empress and I had invited ten people each, and we’ve already sent out the invitations…”

“You can be flexible and add one more…”

“But Lumine , the moment we are flexible, the special banquet becomes less special.”

Lumine made a shocked, unblinking expression at his refusal, and Scaramouche felt forced to explain.

“As I said, it’s only for those invited. I don’t know why you would think it would suddenly change.”

“Lumine is your concubine. Your lady. Lumine thought she could go without being invited…You should have invited her too.”

Lumine’s face was red as she whimpered.

“Oh goodness, Lumine.”

Scaramouche took out a handkerchief and patted away the tears that had sprung up in her eyes. But the tears gathered again, and the handkerchief was useless.

“Do you really wish to go?”

“I told everyone at the dinner that I would go to the special banquet.” 

“…”

Scaramouche frowned.

“You should’ve asked me.”

“It’s strange to ask. Besides, His Majesty took Lumine to dinner with the special guests, so of course Lumine thought…”

“It’s my fault.”

Scaramouche sighed and rubbed Lumine's shoulder, but she kept crying, waiting for Scaramouche to change his words. However, no matter how long she waited, it did not happen.

“So in the end, you’re not taking me.”

Lumine wept like a child, and Scaramouche clenched his jaw at the innocence of it. Having only seen the court nobles cry silently, he was amazed whenever Lumine expressed her true feelings honestly.

“I’m sorry, Lumine. Don’t cry.”

“You saw what happened today. If Lumine doesn’t go, Prince Childe will say something to the guests. He said he was going to spread rumours.”

Lumine had a point, and Scaramouche sighed again. However, many of the guests consisted of foreign royal family members and powerful nobles, and were considered the most important people of the year. To set aside an important guest to allow a concubine could cause an international problem.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there. I won’t let Prince Childe say anything strange.”

Lumine’s expression was still morose. After stewing on the subject, Scaramouche finally let out a sigh.

“I will ask the Empress if she can spare a seat. Some of the guests are subjects of this country, so we won’t have to worry about an international problem.” 

.

.

.

The morning sun shone through the thin curtains, casting shadows on the floor in the shape of the window frames.

I yawned and raised myself from the bed. My heart wasn’t heavy despite the incident from yesterday. Perhaps it was because of Prince Childe and Queen…

I patted my face to wake myself up, then went to the bathroom to wash my face. Behind me, my ladies-in-waiting prepared the bathtub with petals and salts. My clothes were removed and I sank into the warm water, allowing my muscles to relax. I closed my eyes and leaned against the bathtub as the ladies-in-waiting massaged my head with careful hands. 

After the bath, I put on a robe and went into the bedroom. As it was the last day of the New Year’s celebration and the day of the special banquet, the dress selected for me was extravagant, but not overly so, and simultaneously captured a sense of calm and elegance.

After getting dressed, I placed on my diamond earrings and crown. The crown wasn’t made for ceremonial purposes, and wasn’t too large and heavy. I looked over my notes on the special guests while the ladies styled my hair to match the crown.

However, before they could finish, one of Scaramouche’s secretaries arrived. As I was already dressed, I allowed him in, and the secretary had conveyed Scaramouche’s words with great embarrassment.

“Your Majesty, the Emperor would like a word with you.”

“Now?” 

“Yes, it’s about the special banquet, so please come quickly—”

It had to be urgent if it was about the special banquet. I nodded and ordered the ladies to quickly finish my hair.

“We’ll put it back together when you get back.”

“Is that alright? I don’t want to bother you twice.”

“It’s fine.”

“Then you may have your breakfast first while I’m gone.”

Various scenarios about the guests ran through my head when I had followed Scaramouche’s secretary to the eastern palace. Did someone suddenly declare war on our Empire? Have one of the foreign guests complained about the country or did one of them offend us? Has anyone suddenly announced their absence?

“What’s going on?” 

I immediately questioned Scaramouche as soon as I entered his room. Lumine was sitting on the bed, but I pretended not to know her. However, I did notice her staring at me—no, staring at the crown on my head, to be more exact.

I frowned in discomfort, but Lumine continued to stare with a bewitched expression and did not look away. Scaramouche was the first to speak.

“Can you make room for one more person?”

“Is something wrong? Are there any reports that Secretary Sucrose or the Chief Magician Albedo are able to attend?”

The secretary and the chief magician were those who originally had reservations. They were invited by Scaramouche, but they did not attend the New Year’s ceremony because they had declined as they were both busy.

“No, it’s not them.”

“Then…?”

Who on earth were we supposed to set up a seat for? I studied Scaramouche closely, who seemed caught in an awkward silence.

“I want to take Lumine with me…”

“…”

“Can you do that?”

“…”

“Empress? Why won’t you talk to me?”

I was going to apologise, but quickly shoved it down my throat as I felt it was not something I should be apologising for nor was it my fault.

“No, Your Majesty.”

Scaramouche’s brow furrowed at my flat refusal.

“One seat is fine. There is surely one or two people the Empress can ask.”

“It’s possible to ask for consent if they agree. But if Secretary Sucrose or the Chief Magician Albedo came, they would be offended by the sudden cancellation of the invitation…for your concubine.”

Scaramouche’s expression turned even colder.

“I have an idea on what your words mean, Empress.”

“The answer would have been the same if it had been my lover, or even if it had been another concubine that was not Lumine.”

“Then why don’t we exclude people such as Duchess Ningguang?”

“Unlike you, I do not wish to hurt the people I cherish, Your Majesty.”

“!”

I could tell that Scaramouche believed that I was a heartless person. It was clear as day by the lines between his brows were more obvious than usual, and the narrowing of his eyes.

“The empress is cold.”

“As I should be.”

“What?”

An international embarrassment could happen if Scaramouche disregarded his guests, and the blame would fall to him. But if I set aside a guest for Lumine, I would be blamed for doing something as simple as this to impress both Lumine and Scaramouche. A similar rumour had already spread after Scaramouche gave Lumine gifts under my name. While that incident was disgraceful on a personal level, disrespecting guests would directly be judged by society.

But Scaramouche’s behaviour wasn’t a mistake. Even at this moment, he was smart. He was forcing me to act this way to protect himself and soothe Lumine’s heart.

“I’m not intentionally being cruel. Lumine is your concubine, not mine. I don’t know why you’re trying to force me to do things even you, the Emperor, cannot do.”

I was too angry to explain it further to him, so I deliberately turned away. Scaramouche’s jaw was clenched and Lumine glanced at me with a frightened look, but I wasn’t feeling any better at all. I gave my farewell as etiquette as I could, and then left the room with a stately walk. 

.

.

.

When I arrived at the western palace, I found the ladies anxiously waiting for me.

“You should have eaten without me.”

“How could we? We wondered if something terrible happened again.”

“You don’t look good whenever you see the Emperor these days.”

After calming them down, we ate breakfast together, but after that meeting with Scaramouche, all my appetite has vanished. However, I managed to slightly fill my stomach with some soup and pudding. 

Afterwards, the ladies-in-waiting went to prepare themselves for the party, so I sat alone at my desk to check the schedule after the New Year’s celebrations. Firstly, I had to see off the foreign guests, as well as accommodate those that wished to stay longer. I had to also handle any reports of incidents thoroughly such as if any foreigner had a legal problem, it had to be settled before they crossed the border.

The day had passed quickly, and it was time for the feast. I took another look of myself in the mirror, and also saw that each of my ladies-in-waiting were splendidly dressed as well.

“Will you come to the party after the special banquet?”

“I don’t know. I have to check the time…what’s wrong, Yoimiya?”

“Ayaka—no, Lady Ayaka is ill and cannot go to the party. If neither you nor her come, I’ll just show my face and leave quickly.”

Yoimiya, who preferred to mingle with her peers, did not seem very interested in socialising with the other noblewomen.

“I’ll be there if you wait for me, Yoimiya.”

I gave her my promise, and Yoimiya smiled with excitement and quickly went to the grand hall for the party. The other ladies-in-waiting also followed suit, while I went to the Red Rose room for the special banquet.

Lively music filled the air, and the special guests were gathered together in groups of three or four. I walked towards Princess Amber, with a casual nod to everyone else, when I came across Grand Duke Dainsleif first, who was holding a champagne glass. A large statue holding a flower basket and sword and a servant carrying champagne bottles stood symmetrically on either side of him, leaving no other way to pass.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A nod wouldn’t suffice as he was right in front of me, so I smiled and spoke to him. Before I bowed in greeting, it occurred to me that he ignored both me and Lumine yesterday.

“…Your Majesty.”

Fortunately, Grand Duke Dainsleif did not turn a blind eye to me this time. He didn’t answer my question, however.

“Does the food suit your taste?”

I gave him a small bow for the second time without realising it. Instead of answering me, he stared at me again. His long, sharp eyes were something fierce.

This was Grand Duke Dainsleif’s first invitation to the banquet, and I had never interacted with this man until last year. I had little knowledge of his character. All I knew was that he was a grand duke from a desert country, and had graduated first from a magical academy.

As I waited for his reply, Dainsleif asked me his own question out of nowhere.

“Is this the state of the Eastern Empire?”

“What do you mean?”

“In Khaenri'ah, the King’s and Queen’s emotions are one. ”

“The king and queen as one… That’s amazing.”

” …You know what it means?”

“Not enough to say I’m fluent. Only a few basic words.”

When I lifted my eyebrows, he opened his eyes in surprise and continued.

“If the King’s lover is in front of her, she would be killed immediately.”

“!”

“Are you not able to do that, Your Majesty?”

“I’m afraid that in this great empire I cannot kill a person for no reason, even if I am an empress. A trial must be held first.”

“Foolish that you cannot eat soup out of your own bowl.”

Was he saying that I didn’t have proper control of the Lumine yesterday? However, just as there were the laws in the country of Khaenri'ah, there were the laws of the Inazuma Empire. In my country, concubines were legally approved. And if an empress ever killed an emperor’s mistress? There was the strong possibility of the empress being thrown into prison.

Then what did that leave me? My whole future I had prepared for my whole life, thrown away just for a little excitement? Would I bet my life just to kill a runaway slave that stole my husband? Before giving an answer, however, Grand Duke Dainsleif left with his glass of champagne.

I gave a relieved sigh. He probably thought of me as pathetic.

‘How strange. It was Scaramouche that made Lumine a concubine, so why am I the pathetic woman?’

Unfortunately, Princess Amber seemed to have moved elsewhere in the room. I shook my head and looked around to find another person, when my gaze landed on Duchess Ningguang.

“Queen.”

There was a low voice from behind me. As soon as I turned my head, I found Prince Childe right before me.

“How are you—”

Before I could ask him how he was, he spoke again.

“I’d like to talk to you for a moment.” 

.

.

.

Prince Childe’s expression was a mix of both serious and sad. He didn’t have his usual smile or proud bearing. I motioned for him to speak, remembering that he had helped me.

“It’s alright.” 

Prince Childe picked up two champagne glasses from a passing servant, and with his eyes pointed towards a spot where the music was loudest and would cover our conversation. The open area left no room for the other guests to misunderstand, even if I was with the much-gossiped-about Prince Childe. He was a surprisingly thoughtful man…

As I admired him, Prince Childe extended to me a glass of champagne, which I accepted. He didn’t drink his, however, and simply fiddled with his glass, while I still stood and waited for him to speak. Finally, he carefully opened his mouth.

“I had read your message, Your Majesty. You want to keep our friendship only by letter.”

“You know that it’s me?”

All I had said yesterday was that I knew it was not Lumine. How did he know it was me? When I looked up at him, Prince Childe hurriedly waved his hand and gave an awkward smile.

“Don’t be alarmed. You did not make a mistake.”

“Then …?”

“Both Lady Lumine and her maid knew the contents of the early letters, but not the later ones. So I had thought about it. I found out that a lady-in-waiting named Viscountess Mona had recently transferred from the Empress to Lady Lumine.”

So that’s how he figured it out…

But I was still surprised. Rumours had it that Prince Childe was a womaniser, a cruel man, a person who kept bad company. I had never heard a rumour that he was exceedingly intelligent, and I smiled a little.

But the prince still looked forlorn, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was disappointed that I was the letter acquaintance, even though I’d rather not have it revealed in the beginning. It would be less embarrassing for the both of us to ignore it. So why was his face so stiff?

“Are you alright? You don’t look very happy.”

Prince Childe sighed as he stared at me.

“How can I be happy? I imagined us as good friends, but you want to pretend not to know me in real life?”

Was that really as coldhearted as it sounds? I would have thought he was exaggerating, but the way he looked so forlorn made me swallow my protest. He downed his champagne glass in one smooth motion.

“In fact, I don’t have many friends to share my thoughts with.”

Prince Childe set his empty glass down on the statue pedestal and continued, his voice thick.

“I know. It’s unexpected, isn’t it? Am I popular? Yes. I have many friends. I always have people around me, so you may think I am not lonely.”

“?”

“But that is only what you see. In fact, I’m very lonely. It’s not that I hate my friends—I have many good ones. However, as the prince of the Snezhnaya, I cannot honestly share my thoughts, and always have to be conscious of others.”

“!”

I looked at him in surprise. Those were almost my exact same thoughts. It was as if—as if Queen listened to me and delivered those words straight to Prince Childe.

“It’s not a problem about the people, but my own, so there’s no way to improve it…”

I stared steadily at Prince Childe, as I realised I wasn’t the only one with those thoughts. I had always believed Prince Childe behaved without regard to what other people thought of him, but it was all an act too…

“I loved being able to talk to someone without them thinking of me as ‘Prince Childe or ‘Crown Prince.’ Our conversations weren’t long, but I was happy to have someone exchange lighthearted letters to.”

“…”

I felt just the same. I became a princess when I was young, and this was the first time since with my family that I felt I could open up my heart. Not because there weren’t good people, but because “a good person” and “a person I can reveal my innermost thoughts to” were not the same.

“I’ve always looked forward to those letters. Honestly, I was even happier when I knew that my letter acquaintance was you, Your Majesty. And I had thought you would feel the same but instead you seemed reluctant and inconvenienced.”

Prince Childe sighed, his eyes becoming moist. As I faced those eyes, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I sympathised with everything he said, and felt further shame.

“We had the same thoughts, but different conclusions.”

Prince Childe looked at me with those wet eyes and sighed again, his mysterious violet irises glistening like jewels under the chandelier’s light. There almost seemed to be resentment in his expression. I could either be his friend, or I could end it like this.

“I understand what you feel, Prince Childe.”

“But you still only want to exchange letters?”

“I enjoyed them.”

“Outside of letters, it will be even more enjoyable.”

“…”

“You can just tell me that Scaramouche is a bitch.”

“Keup!”

I choked when Prince Childe tossed all dignity out of the window. Everyone stared at me as I coughed, and Prince Childe lowered his voice once again and whispered, “Scaramouche is a bitch.”

What kind of person…

Prince Childe raised his eyebrows and gave a silly grin.

“There is nothing more funny than watching someone suppress a laugh. Just laugh if you want to. ”

“…”

“If you don’t laugh, your heart will ache.”

Ache? Did he have experience in this?

His smile faded, as did his voice. For a moment, Prince Childe stared at the floor, his forehead furrowed in thought.

“Then, can you do something for me? I’ll keep it a secret you, my Queen, are my letter partner. And I’ll also keep it a secret that we are friends.”

“Are we friends?”

“Don’t you know that we’re friends, Queen?”

He gave a strange smile, then he pressed his lips together and continued.

“Instead, it can be like now. If we meet by chance, please don’t ignore me. And if the two of us happen to be alone, don’t avoid me.”

His voice was playful and the smile around his mouth looked light, but his gaze was serious. It sounded like a joke, but I knew it wasn’t.

He gazed at me with those earnest eyes, and I felt a strange sensation of my heart being squeezed lightly with fingernails.

.

.

.

‘They must be talking about me…’

Lumine stared anxiously at the doorway, where inside was the special banquet. It should go smoothly with Scaramouche there, but she was still apprehensive.

Would Prince Childe say anything strange to anyone? The Empress seemed unlikely to spread rumours, but Lumine couldn’t say the same about Prince Childe. Lumine bit her lip and sighed again.

“You look blue today. Are you feeling well?”

Baron Thoma appeared by her side and smiled at her teasingly.

“In truth, I’m not.”

“You’re very honest.”

Lumine smiled and nodded. After Scaramouche, Baron Thoma was her favourite person in the palace. He did not prejudiced her, and when rumours of her and Prince Childe had spread, she had heard that Baron Thoma stepped up to defend her honour. Lumine couldn’t help but like the older man.

“Rest assured, no matter how unruly Prince Childe is, he has no choice but to yield to our Emperor. Although the Snezhnaya Kingdom has been growing in power, it still cannot eclipse the Inazuma Empire.”

“Yes…”

“I will do whatever I can to protect Lady Lumine’s honour, so go enjoy the last day of the celebrations.”

Lumine nodded, and her mood lifted as she smiled. Those who did not scorn her gathered around her in ones or twos, and before long she was surrounded by people who were close to her or who wanted to be close to her. She preened at their attention, and whether because they were being thoughtful or not, no one asked her why she did not go to the special banquet. Lumine sipped wine that was surely five times older than herself, and happily accepted the praise that the nobles lavished on her.

“The contrast between your silver hair and your dark eyes is so enviable.”

“It gives off the feeling of purity, like a lily-of-the-valley.”

“Duchess Ningguang might need to defend her current reputation.”

Duchess Ningguang wasn’t present, as she was likely attending the special banquet, so today, more and more people approached Lumine instead.

‘Today, I am the butterfly of the social circles.’

Lumine was feeling pleasantly tipsy. Even before she became the emperor’s concubine, she knew beauty could be a poison. It was only after much trial did she learn how to use her own beauty as a weapon, but even then she found herself walking a precarious tightrope, always in danger.

But it was different here. Everyone praised her and loved her. Her protector was the most powerful man on earth, and no one could lay a hand on her.

“But didn’t you say you were going to the special banquet? Why are you here now?”

However, it was only less than half an hour later that someone brought up an uncomfortable question.

Lumine stared at the woman who spoke. She was not a memorable aristocrat, and did not have large possessions or had duties important in the Imperial Palace. This was the first time this particular noblewoman mingled with them. The other nobles turned silent at the question, but despite their curiosity, they did not speak up.

“It’s…”

Lumine quickly arranged her thoughts and made up a story.

“It’s because Lumine said it was alright.”

“Oh, Miss Lumine?”

“Important foreign guests usually go to the banquet. Rather than having Lumine attend, she thought it would be better to have someone who would benefit our country. ”

The nobles were delighted over her answer.

“Miss Lumine is so smart for a concubine.”

“Indeed. Many of the previous concubines only spent money and idled away, and held no interest in international affairs at all. Miss Lumine is certainly different from them.”

Lumine smiled shyly and lowered her eyes. Their admiration was as intoxicating as a drug.

“Lumine should help His Majesty.”

Lumine murmured that she wanted another drink, and a number of noblemen quickly offered her a variety of wine glasses. Lumine chose a flute with a light purple liquor, and the face of the young man she had accepted the drink from lit up.

Suddenly, Lumine caught a glimpse of someone over the young man’s shoulders. Someone who should not have been there.

The flute slipped from her hand, and the glass shattered on the floor.

“Miss Lumine, are you all right?”

“What happened?”

Lumine was unable to answer, and quickly jerked her head. But the one who surprised her was not there anymore.

‘Did I see it wrong?’

Lumine forced her heart to calm. Perhaps it was the effects of the alcohol.

‘I drank too much.’

While the servants placed the broken glass on a tray and wiped the liquor off the floor, Lumine repeatedly glanced back to where she had seen the man.

“What’s wrong, Miss Lumine?”

Baron Thoma noticed her strange behaviour and turned towards where she was looking, and she quickly caught the hem of his robe to stop him.

 “Baron Thoma. I have a question.”

“?”

“For the New Year’s celebrations, if a nobleman doesn’t come on the first day…can they come on the last day?”

“Of course. Some may not be able to come to the festivities immediately.”

Lumine lowered her voice.

“Do rural aristocrats come to the New Year’s celebrations? Rural aristocrats with small estates? Do you not help choose the guests?”

“Yes, I help choose them. And even the nobility of a small estate can be invited.”

“Even if they haven’t attended for years?”

“Even if they haven’t attended for a long time, we still send invitations for that reason. We don’t leave them completely alone.”

Lumine’s lips started to quiver, and Baron Thoma’s expression darkened.

“Miss Lumine, what happened?”

Lumine shook her head, then took in her surroundings again and pushed her glass towards him.

“L-Lumine’s going inside. I think I’m drunk.”

She answered unsteadily and waved her hand to get out of the crowd. There was nothing to worry about if she made a drunken mistake, but if not—it would be dangerous.

That man…Viscount Lawrence. The lord of the estate where she was a slave. He knew Lumine’s face.

As she was leaving, a loud voice behind Lumine proclaimed, “What? Am I seeing right?”

Goose flesh erupted on Lumine’s back. Her face paled, and her eyes darkened in fear.

Lumine was reeling, and Baron Thoma hastened towards her.

“Miss Lumine?”

Baron Thoma called out to her anxiously, but she didn’t answer.

 “‘Miss’ Lumine?”

The loud voice grew closer, dripping in mockery.

“What is this now? Have you changed your identity?”

The surroundings became deathly silent.

“The world is getting better isn't it? A runaway slave gets treated like a lady now? Hm?”

.

.

.

“So you stopped looking for your letter friend?”

“Yes. If they haven’t revealed themselves by now, then they never will.”

“But you wanted it badly enough to go public…”

“I don’t want to make them feel uncomfortable because of me.”

Prince Childe kept his promise. I awkwardly cut a piece of cake across the table where he was talking to a noblewoman. From time to time he looked at me, and I just smiled and nodded, hoping it wouldn’t seem odd.

‘He’s a good man…’

Scaramouche would have cut off Prince Childe if he said anything strange, but the prince said nary a word about Lumine at all.

The conversation went from Prince Childe’s letters to Grand Duke Dainsleif’s Kingdom, his magic, and how it worked in war. The grand duke offered only a few words, and did not speak about magic though he had graduated from a magical academy. He was equally silent on other topics, but my attention turned towards the door when it opened and someone came in. It was the captain of the guard.

‘What’s going on?’

Our eyes met, and he bowed towards me. Scaramouche still hadn’t noticed him, as his eyes were on Prince Childe.

“Your Majesty the Emperor.”

The moment Scaramouche turned his head, the knight delivered his message.

“You need to come to the grand hall.”

His tone sounded serious. There were only twenty people in the room, so everyone could hear what he said. All the guests’ eyes and attention were on him.

“Why is that?”

The captain seemed reluctant to answer in present company, but Scaramouche picked up on it and went outside with the knight.

‘What’s going on?’

I considered following them, but decided against it. If I was needed, then the knight would have spoken to me as well, and I wouldn’t be required if it had to do with Lumine or anything like that.

‘I don’t need to leave.’

I made up my mind and turned towards the guests again. When the time came, I left the Red Rose room and went to the grand banquet hall. I had to check on the other guests as well, and when the sun went down I had to inspect the fireworks.

‘I also made a promise to meet with Yoimiya.’

However, the atmosphere at the grand banquet hall was livelier than I expected.

‘Did something happen?’

People are usually tired out during the last day of the celebration. However, everyone would dress up for the last day, yet the energy was usually not the same as the first. From the entrance, I saw people talking and laughing, and the noise grew louder as I went in. I looked around confusedly, and Yoimiya ran over to me.

“Your Majesty, Her Majesty, did you hear?”

“Did something interesting happen? I’ve been in the Red Rose room, so I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Something very interesting happened.”

Yoimiya said in excitement, and she moved me to a suitable place for conversation. Nearby, there was a spread of crispy fried seafood, small dishes of pumpkin puddings, and milky coffee.

“You can listen while you eat. It’s an appetising story!”

“What happened?”

Yoimiya pushed a mango pudding and a fork towards me.

“Thank you, Yoimiya.”

“Do you remember Lumine?”

It was not a topic I was fond of. I grimaced slightly, but Yoimiya continued, despite knowing that I didn’t like talking about her.

“Do you remember the rumour that she was a runaway slave?”

“Yes, but are we not allowed to speak of it?”

Scaramouche had said he would punish those that did. Could they speak about this in a crowded place? I was worried, but Yoimiya shouted out before I could stop her.

“She really is an escaped slave! Viscount Lawrence arrived at the party for the first time, and he recognised Lumine!”

“Viscount Lawrence?”

“She was his slave, then she ran away!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. If the Emperor was here he would’ve stopped him. Not only that, the viscount had only been in the capital for a few hours so he didn’t know about the rumours about Lumine or the order not to talk about her. That’s why he openly said Lumine was a slave in public!”

“Ah…”

“Lumine said she was not, but everyone believed him. She looked mortified.”

Yoimiya snorted.

“All the nobles who came up to Lumine must have seen it now.”

“And where are they now?”

“When Lumine fainted, Baron Thoma carried her to her bedroom. Then the captain of the royal guard came and took Viscount Lawrence.”

So that was why the captain was looking for Scaramouche. For a moment, some foreign feeling welled up inside me. Was it…vindication? Yes. It must be. Scaramouche was furious when he suspected I spread false rumours about Lumine as a runaway slave. The resentment and sorrow I felt now turned to satisfaction.

However, there was a small corner in my heart that didn’t feel thrilled. What is this uncomfortable feeling?

“…”

I couldn’t figure it out so I decided to leave it be for now.

Now that I think about it, did Scaramouche not realized Lumine was a runaway slave when he had rescued her? Although, even if he did know, I doubt Scaramouche would hate her. After all, he had brought her here because she was pitiful and that he had a powerful desire to protect her. Whether he fell in love with her then or not, it was their first meeting. And whether Lumine was a commoner or a fugitive slave, Scaramouche would still love her. He would try to protect Lumine from mockery of others.

I didn’t know what would happen nor what is happening, but I did know that whatever it was, I did not want to get involved. 

.

.

.

As usual, it was useless trying to avoid getting entangled with Lumine. Each time, it was either her or Scaramouche that got me involved with them, it was as if they were taking turns to do that to me. However, this time, it was Scaramouche. 

As some of the foreign guests would return to their countries and the rest would stay longer at the southern palace. I returned to the western palace, leaving behind those who wanted to stay up for the drinking and revelry. I wanted to take a warm bath to relieve my fatigue of the day. My ladies-in-waiting also seemed exhausted, so instead of having them follow me, I sent them away to take their rest.

However, before I could even finish drawing the bathwater, Scaramouche’s captain of the guard came to see me. I had a sinking feeling the moment I saw him. For nearly a month, all the times Scaramouche summoned me out of the blue had been unpleasant encounters.

What on earth did he want this time? My mood dropped the more I walked through the long corridors, but I managed to control my expression. I hoped I could maintain it in front of my husband…

Finally, I entered Scaramouche’s bedroom in the eastern palace. Scaramouche was seated on a chair by the bed, and I also noticed that Lumine was on the bed with a towel on her forehead. I turned back to Scaramouche again, who had his eyes fixed on me.

“…I’ll take my leave now.”

The captain closed the door, and the atmosphere became even more oppressive. Scaramouche slowly opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you have anything to say to me?”

His voice was cold.

“Why exactly did you call me here?”

I spoke to him just as bluntly.

“Is that the only thing you can say right now?”

“That’s what I’m most curious about now.”

“You don't even blink at this situation.”

The first thought that came to mind was, ‘I must be doing a good job of controlling my facial expression,’ and the corners of my mouth must have tipped upwards as Scaramouche seemed even more offended.

“Are you happy that everyone thinks Lumine’s a runaway slave?”

“Are you going to take your anger out on me?”

 “Empress.”

“I heard about Miss Lumine at the grand hall. I know you’re upset, but don’t take it out on me.”

“Did you think I called you to vent?”

“Am I wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why did you call me in the first place?”

He did not call me to be angry at me, yet his remarks and tone at me says a lot. He probably assumed I was happy that Lumine was discovered to be a runaway slave.

Scaramouche silently watched Lumine’s sleeping form. The ticking of the clock echoed in the room. Only after some time passed did Scaramouche speak.

“Did you really want to prove that Lumine is a fugitive slave?”

“That story again?”

“The Empress was born with a silver spoon. She had a great aristocratic family, enormous wealth, great power, a beautiful mansion, and a natural wit and beauty. But in spite of that, she still wants to be on top of everyone, including the less fortunate.”

It wasn’t a compliment in this situation. I looked at Scaramouche with narrowed eyes, and he sighed.

“Yet Lumine had nothing. She became a slave and had no memory or her parents or family. No property, no power, no home. She is just like the Empress who is smart and beautiful, she just doesn’t have opportunities for her.”

“…”

“And then she met me, and she had been trying to get these by herself. The chance to be loved, to eat a warm meal, to relax on a comfortable bed, to learn something.”

She also took my husband, but I didn’t say this because my pride was injured. I wanted to ask if he wanted me to sympathise with Lumine, but the words were stuck in my throat. So I just stared at him without a word. I couldn’t understand why he was talking so much—was he asking me to take care of Lumine's problems because she was in trouble? 

“I don’t need you to understand Lumine. But you have the smallest compassion…can you give it?”

“Compassion?”

“The compassion the Empress shows here and there—for example, towards the orphanages, elderly homes, medical centres, shrines, scholarship centres. Why can't you spare that compassion for Lumine instead!”

Scaramouche exploded at me, but then he stopped himself and collapsed back into his chair. Lumine reached out with a groan, and he quickly took her hand. I noticed that she was wearing a shirt with wide sleeves that looked similar to the shirt I had given to Scaramouche for his birthday last year. I didn't want to admit it, but seeing Lumine wearing the shirt I had bought for Scaramouche and that my husband is treating his concubine better than his wife, made me clenched my fist.

“Lumine is your concubine, not mine, so you should take care of her. I’m not looking after her because she’s not my responsibility.”

“Who said you had to look after her? Ha. Don't make me laugh! I don’t want you to take care of her, so please leave her alone! And Don't even come close to her”

“Have I ever provoked her?”

“Yesterday in front of Prince Childe, when he insulted Lumine. Out of the two of them, Prince Childe and Lumine, you should have sided with Lumine if you don’t know who’s telling the truth! You should stand by your subjects!”

“As I said, I knew the truth, and sided with Prince Childe accordingly.”

“So you are saying Lumine lied?”

“It is you who believe in her innocence, not me. And everyone knew she lied so why bother defending her, Your Majesty?”

“Well, that was yesterday. How about today? Why were you trying to undermine her today?”

“You know I never spoke to Miss Lumine today.”

“You didn't. You didn't talk to Lumine herself, but you called Viscount Lawrence from behind her back.”

The air seemed to tense when he made the accusation. I knew it wasn't true, but he made it sound like it. I glared at Scaramouche.

“What are you trying to imply?”

“You wanted to prove that Lumine is a runaway slave, and so you brought Viscount Lawrence.”

“…I invited the viscount because of Miss Lumine?”

What kind of ridiculous assumption was this? I was dumbfounded as Scaramouche let out an exhale.

“Ever since I said that Lumine wasn’t an escaped slave, didn’t you want to prove me otherwise? Were you so offended by everyone loving her?”

“You’re speaking nonsense.”

I forced my voice to sound calm, but I felt ready to burst. Scaramouche stood straight up from his chair, his eyes flashing threateningly.

“Who knows the guest invitations better than the Empress? You must have been working hard. You even invited Viscount Lawrence.”

“Yes, I know the invitations very well because it is my job. However, I invited him weeks before Lumine even came to the palace.”

“He’s not an important guest, so why did you invite him to the celebrations?”

“As I said before…I’m not interested in every single thing concerning Miss Lumine. And you were confident that she was not a runaway slave. Under these circumstances, why would I not send an invitation to Viscount Lawrence? Adding on to that, how was I supposed to find out she was his slave?”

It was true, I didn’t even know that she was his slave. The only connection I knew was that Scaramouche had found her on the hunting grounds near Lawrence’s estate. Since then, I had never heard mention of it, and if Lumine was commoner, then Lawrence’s attendance was irrelevant. Yet somehow, Scaramouche thought I calculated Lumine was Lawrence’s slave? Me? I was dumbfounded. Does he think I'm not busy at all to find out about useless things?

“If you have any consideration—”

“You should take care of her yourself. You can’t expect me to look after her, even if I didn’t know she was Lawrence’s slave.”

“…You’re so heartless.  A woman who has been living in poverty her whole life now wants to stand straight, and you don’t want to see it? You don’t wish to be tarnished? The Empress is such a horrible woman.”

"Maybe this Empress is sick and tired of you blaming her for every bad thing that happens to Lumine." 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜ Wasted youth.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Platonic!Ajax x GN!Reader

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 11k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: violence, blood, death.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐀/𝐍: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I hope everyone can enjoy this <3

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩. 𝐛𝐲 Tempo Perdido - Legião Urbana

✦⸼࣪⸳ likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

Snezhnaya is not exactly a friendly nation. The cold that seems to run from the veins to the depths of people's innermost being brings with it a certain hostility towards those who don't know the heart of the land. But within Ajax's distorted childhood perception, Snezhnaya was like a gentle mother, protecting its children under icy embrace.

But then, why did such a loving land allow its own child to fall into the deepest depths of the Abyss? Like drowning in freezing water, a child who survived Teyvat's darkest and loneliest place would certainly not come out of it the same as he went in.

"Ajax" was still Ajax, wasn't he? The same child, named after a hero from ancient tales, full of compassion and empathy, now carried with him a gaze that was deader than the fish he caught on ice.

Joining the Fatui wasn't in his plans for the future; being one of them wasn't so bad, although he wasn't expecting much for the future. But what he didn't like was being the youngest in the unit, it was a complete humiliation.

Not that the seniors were a challenge for him, but being constantly underestimated was... infuriating, to say the least. While his strength was admirable — thanks to Skirk, he would thank her someday — Ajax felt constantly bored, with no meaningful challenge ahead of him.

"Redhead!" The call was accompanied by a snowball, which hit him square in the face; his moment of peace was interrupted, though it didn't really matter.

Ajax could only sigh before letting out a soundless laugh, knowing exactly who had hit him: [Name], a recruit not much older than him, maybe a year or so. Being under the same division, it wasn't unusual to bump into them. "Here it comes..."

They weren't exactly friends, more like acquaintances. However, they also kept in touch enough to be just "acquaintances". Never friends, perhaps not at all.

As if he had some kind of radar, [Name] always appeared whenever Ajax had his rare moment of philosophical thought of questionable quality. Usually to disrupt the whole process.

" Damn, looks like you really found me," he laughed, turning to look at them.

"That's the third time I've had to look for you this week," they complained, carefully preparing another snowball to throw at him. "I always get scolded because of you, you know that?"

They weren't exactly wrong. Whenever Ajax wandered off the map, it was [Name] who had to look for him in the frozen woods. Not that they really bothered to do it, but it was tiring going around in circles until they found him.

"Look at it as part of your job."

"Babysitting...?"

"No, looking after your companions."

"... How idiotic."

"How heroic. It's very noble to look after your friends, you know?" Ajax corrected. His eyes returned to scanning the surrounding trees in a relaxed manner.

"Not when said 'friends' get into trouble all the time," they retorted.

"I always come back, it's not like you need to hunt me down like I'm some criminal on the loose." He shook his head briskly, brushing the snow off the top of his hair. However, he was greeted with another sharp shot right to the scalp.

"Look... So, all due respect, but you're not far off being one, you know?" they shyly replied. Not in a rude way, but still a little offensive to whoever it was directed at.

He didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended by what they said. Maybe both? Well, they weren't exactly wrong... Ajax was already considered a marginal project, or at least it seemed that way.

"Why did you do that?"

"What? You have to specify or I won't know,” his smile fell, replaced by a neutral expression. He tried to feign ignorance, but it didn't work very well.

"Don't be cynical. You beat up an older soldier. Aren't you a little ashamed?”

Which soldier were they talking about? It didn't matter to him anyway, as he'd lost count of how many he'd challenged and won — it wasn't a difficult task, they were never a match for him.

All too often they were weak, and [Name] was the worst of them all. That's why Ajax didn't even bother trying when inviting them to a duel, because the result was obvious from the start. The last time they sparred, it was be boring, easy and not worth the effort.

"Should I be? If a soldier almost two meters tall can't beat up a 14—year—old, then that means he's a weakling, doesn't it?" Ajax crossed his arms. "Besides, he called me names before, so we're even."

"Seriously..." they sighed, "Seriously, try not to make such a fuss. The Fifth can get you out of most trouble, only until you do something, let's say, really catastrophic."

"Something catastrophic like...?" he asked curiously, his gaze fixed on them.

"Like... burning down the Zapolyarny palace?"

His jaw dropped in shock, and a touch of offense showed on his cold—pink face. That was the most absurd thing he had heard in recent times. "What?! Why do you think I would do something like that?"

"Because it's you we're talking about, redhead."

"What's with the nickname?"

"I think it's funny, don't you?"

"You know... whatever." Ajax put his hands on his waist, shaking his head slightly. "I'll take that as an excuse to put a nickname on you too."

"So you're going to stop with the ' comrade' thing and come up with something even worse? Really?"

"Maybe so... maybe not. Who knows?"

The boy gave a relaxed smile, patting them on the shoulder before moving on. His heavy footsteps in the snow served as a background noise to the uneasy silence around them.

"I found it."

"Hm? Found what?" Ajax raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

[Name] pulled out a red scarf, so familiar to Ajax, from inside their backpack, carefully tying it around his neck. The fabric was warm, or perhaps it was the feeling of zeal, or also the nostalgia it brought.

Ajax hadn't realized he had left it behind. And when he realized it, the difference between the cold air and the protection of the scarf was remarkable — was he so distracted that he didn't notice?

The boy's gloved hands touched the soft fabric of the scarf, bringing it closer to his face and snuggling into the warmth. "Where did you find it, comrade?"

" Somewhere, it doesn't matter." They put their hands in the pockets, looking around at the landscape around them. "Aren't you afraid of getting lost in the forest?"

Ajax let out a genuine laugh when he heard their question, as if it were something ridiculous. "Getting lost? I know my way around pretty well."

[Name] narrowed their eyes, firmly disbelieving Ajax's words. For them, the scenery remained the same, no matter how far they went — well, they didn't go very far at all.

"What? It's all the same, like... just trees and snow everywhere."

Ajax held back a laugh, as if what they'd said was completely dumb. "You're not from Snezhnaya, right?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Were you trying to hide it at all?" He couldn't help but laugh at the redness that appeared on [Name]'s face.

They were almost the scarlet color of their vision, which they proudly carried on a chain attached to their jacket. Pyro and Hydro, it was yet another thing that made them so opposite from each other.

"You know what, never mind! Just follow me." They extended a hand towards him, an almost forced offer.

Ajax hesitated, staring at the hand in front of him for a few long seconds before accepting it. He held it with some hesitation, not wanting to apply more force than he should have. He didn't mean to hurt, but he also had moments when he couldn't control his own strength.

They walked together through the snow, their steps in perfect sync. He noticed these small details as he looked down at the ground, thinking over and over again about an endless cycle. Sometimes, he just let that little silence take over his head, alone without direction, lost in the image of his own breath coming in the form of fog.

[Name] mumbled something, Ajax nodded, but forgot all about it soon after. They knew he wasn't paying attention, but didn't care, increasing the strength with which they held his hand.

"You don't like it here? Is that why you keep running away?"

"It's not running away if you come back.”

[Name] genuinely felt like punching Ajax in the face every time he opened his mouth and let out some stupid reason like this, but they would obviously leave it to imagination. The willingness wasn't lacking, but the courage was.

Perhaps if they were stronger, braver, they could say what they really wanted. But they weren't, and that kept them behind a fine line between the two, where Ajax always seemed to be in the front.

Everything in Snezhnaya, absolutely everything, filled them with an internal revolt. The cold that seemed to freeze them inside, the infinitely same path that seemed to lead nowhere, not being taken seriously — but for now, they would do anything to please those on top, especially since they were the ones in control of everything anyway.

"Don't ignore my question, go on. I know you heard me."

As soon as they arrived at the camp, they were greeted by an angry soldier with a large purple eye. That was the man Ajax had hit, and clearly he didn't look happy.

"Look, the bastard's really back," he said sarcastically, snapping his fingers. "Are you going to come at me for no reason like a savage again, like you did earlier?"

"Liar," they retorted, shaking their heads in denial and pointing a finger at the soldier, "you previously morally attacked Ajax, an exemplary boy..."

Ajax nodded, crossing his arms. Exemplary was by far what he was, but he had to agree with those who defended him. What he didn't expect was that they would retract their words soon after.

"...sort of."

"A... gentle boy?" They gave him a sideways glance, as if for confirmation; all he got back was a slight shake of the head.

"sort of..."

There was a lack of good adjectives to describe what he was — what he had become.

It would be less work if they just called him strong, but they didn't. They didn't want to reduce him to something. They didn't seem to want to reduce him to something the soldier in front of them already knew. Or rather, they didn't want to reduce Ajax to a simple strong boy.

They cleared their throats with a smile, grabbing Ajax by the collar, "Give us a second!"

Honestly, he was expecting a beating, not a strategy meeting behind a bush — not that he was going to complain, but at least he was hoping for a fight or something. His clenched fists contained the real desire to punch that soldier right in the face, but unfortunately he couldn't do that.

"'Sort of', really?" Ajax mimicked with a playful tone.

They rolled their eyes, fidgeting. "One of two ways: either I lie by calling you dumb, or I lie by calling you stupid!"

His jaw dropped for a moment. Was Ajax that stupid in their eyes? Not that he was the most self—controlled or straightforward person, but that dumb was an insult. "Oh, but I'm not dumb!"

"Perfect! Then you're stupid!"

The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Just as they didn't understand him, Ajax didn't understand them one bit.

"Seriously, I'm trying to help you... but then you have to help me help you."

"I think you've got it wrong. I appreciate the attempt, not to be rude... but I don't think I asked you to help me in the first place." He tried to smooth it over somehow, with that annoying little smile of his.

They felt their eyes ticking just hearing him, but soon pulled themselves together and returned the smile with a sarcastic tone intertwined with the words, "Really?”

"Mhm!" Ajax smiled. "Then I'm going for it, you said!"

Ajax ran off, abandoning them behind the bush to do whatever he wanted. Training, fighting, getting into another fight... it was all very unpredictable when it came to someone as peculiar as Ajax.

[Name] stood there, letting out a sigh as he thought about how weird this boy was. But there was no denying that Ajax was truly exceptional at getting out of trouble, and that made them more and more curious about him.

Sometimes, before going to sleep, Ajax would close his eyes and think about the day he'd had. He would ponder how small details were so easily erased — he couldn't remember who accompanied him on the march, or the name of the guy he had hit. But it was okay, it was fine not to remember.

The important thing was to keep going, without wasting time, and to move on. Ajax didn't need anything else, or anyone else, just himself to become very strong.

"Here you go, redhead." He was called by [Name], who threw a pillow right in his face.

" Man, you really like throwing things at me, don't you?" complained, pulling the pillow away from his face, "Have I become a punching bag now?"

"You forgot your pillow. If you wake up with a stiff neck, you'll be complaining in my ear all day tomorrow."

"I don't complain—"

"You think you don't, but you nag like an old man!"

Ajax threw himself backwards, lying on the mattress hugging the pillow close to his face. He muttered irritably to himself something almost inaudible, something that [Name] could only wish weren't curses in their direction.

"Look, I don't know what kind of problem you have," Ajax began, rolling his eyes in frustration, but soon changed his tone to something more playful, "if you want to settle something with me, come fight. Unless you're too much of a chicken not to fight someone younger and stronger than you."

"Whatever" [name] grumbled as they adjusted the flame of the lamp with their vision, "I already know I have zero percent chance against someone like... you."

"Why, comrade? It's not like I'm going to kill anyone in sight or anything like that." He smiled, giving a slight chuckle.

"Yes, of course, and I'm a slime" [name] sarcastically answered.

"Honestly, I don't mean to offend you or anything..." Ajax sat up, running a light hand through his hair to remove it from his face. "But I really wonder how someone so coward got into Fatui. I mean, you're afraid to even hold your own bow."

[Name] listened attentively to his words, but kept their gaze fixed on the lamp in her hands. It was the only source of warmth between them at the moment, and they couldn't let it go out so soon.

"The reason I'm in Fatui..." Their eyes did not leave the flame in hand, carefully observing the orange color that reflected on everything around him. [Name] avoided this question whenever it was asked, because they knew they weren't strong, and didn't force themselves to be, but the truth was too shameful.

"I believe I am indebted to Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa. I must render my services for her generosity, and also... for this little thing here, which has guaranteed me everything I have now."

They picked it up and swung it around, the vibrant red gemstone seeming to emanate heat in a veritable mirage. Even though the temperature was almost below zero, it still retained its tiny hints of flame.

"Well, I guess that's it. I was born like anyone else, subject to mistakes and defects. But I don't think I'm worthless, after all..." they paused for a single second, letting out a sigh before continuing, "even doormats have their uses."

Ajax's face softened as he listened to them. He was speechless, sincerely mute without an answer to their words. No silly comment came to mind, just nothing. He waited a while in silence before finally asking: "Wow, that was something..."

"I think we've talked enough about me, what about you?" They asked with a little smile, and Ajax relaxed a little.

"About me? Hm... I think I have several stories! Like today when I punched that guy!" he cheered, throwing a fake punch in the air to represent his fight.

[Name] let out a simple laugh, amused by his actions. They thought the boy was a piece of work, silly but very funny; also very intriguing in every respect. At fourteen, joining the Fatui and doing well was something out of this world from everyone else's perspective.

"No, silly! I don't care about that sort of thing." They shook their heads in denial.

Ajax blinked twice, confusion clear on his face. "What...? So what do you want to know, anyway?"

They patted his head lightly, making Ajax turn as red as a tomato. It was unexpected, and he didn't know how to react to it, he wasn't prepared, but it wasn't that bad either. For the first time in a long time, Ajax allowed himself to receive a bit of care.

"Tell me, redhead," they called him by that silly nickname again, getting a funny look from him, "do you miss home at all?"

"Homesick? Hm... I don't know, I don't think so."

"Lying to yourself is always the worst kind of lie, so don't do this."

"If I really miss home..."

Home. Did Ajax really miss home? It was very hard for them to guess what was going through his head when all he did was fight and cause trouble. Although he had his ridiculous faults, there was still a gentle child inside, deep down.

Ajax was about to answer when it finally hit. It was the kind of question that nobody really asked in the Fatui. Everyone usually acted in accordance with their situation, there was no room in the Camp for whining.

The only tears were those that were left on the pillow, turned upside down as soon as the first rays of sun appeared in the morning. Hidden, sealed away from the gaze of others, while everything continued in the shadows.

He remembered perfectly the day he left home, beginning his career as a soldier.

Ajax checked his appearance one last time in the mirror. He didn't mind the state he was in, with a few scars on his hands and small scratches on his face from the mess that had occurred before he was enlisted — but he couldn't look relaxed either, Ajax needed to look presentable for some reason.

He could hear some whispering, not so quiet, of children behind him. He could see their reflections, curious as ever, but pretended not to have noticed, not wanting to end their failed attempt at spying.

When the clock finally struck a certain time, he knew it was time to go. Ajax had been preparing since the day before, when he received the news. It hadn't been easy to accept, but Ajax had no voice after everything he had done.

It was easy to feel the blood on his hands, even though he had washed them over and over again. While his combat skills were fascinating, it was frightening to see how easy it was to seriously hurt someone.

But at the same time, he felt the adrenaline of fighting pulsing through his veins, bringing with it an insatiable desire for battle. He didn't have a strong enemy, he didn't have anyone who could challenge his skills in this little corner of the world he lived in. Being the strongest shouldn't be so boring, at least not for him.

When he stepped out of his room, the first thing he saw were his little siblings. Their faces were full of questions, asking for an answer as to where he was going, why he was leaving and other questions that Ajax wasn't allowed to answer, nor was he in the mood to answer them.

This was what he really dreaded, the farewell.

He hugged each sibling as if it was the last time seeing them, his eyes filled with anguish disguised as emotion and tears that weren't exactly shed. He felt a knot down his throat — how hard it was to try and keep a smile, with such a conflicted feeling in his chest.

Perhaps that was the hardest part, because the younger ones had no idea where their older brother would end up. They didn't know that he was going where no other child should go. The only excuse he could come up with was something about a fantastic toy factory, and they bought it.

He swallowed it all, keeping his typical charisma in a comforting smile. Blindly lying to himself that all that was to come was just a distraction where he could meet stronger people, bigger obstacles and climb them without hesitation.

He ran down the stairs as if it was the last time, and it would be, because long gone was the boy who once smiled here. Hearing the children's voices saying casual goodbyes, as if it were just another ordinary day and that he would be back soon. Touching the banister, sliding along and feeling the texture of the wood, brought a little sadness. It was full of scratches and loose splinters, just the way he would remember it.

Taking a deep breath, he let the smell of wax invade his lungs for one last time. Little did he know, but this would become another moment for nostalgia in just a few days.

He hesitated to leave that warm place, so precious and cozy that it was the only thing capable of bringing a tear to his eyes after leaving the abyss. Not all things in life work out the way we want them to, and he needed to learn that, if only in the harshest way possible.

"Discipline" was what it was supposed to be, a form of punishment for all the trouble he had made. Like a staircase, Ajax climbed step by step in his acts of violence until he reached the irreversible point of his insatiable hunger for battle

But life always takes its toll. And for Ajax, life decided to give, demand and take away almost instantly.

Saying goodbye to his mother, who wrapped a red wool scarf around his neck, Ajax could only keep smiling. If it hadn't been for the hesitation and worry in her eyes, distressed that her young son would end up in a place like the Fatui, everything would have been so much easier.

"My little warrior," she called him, a cheesy nickname that suited the wild boy perfectly. While it was ironic in the past, given that Ajax was a big scaredy—cat, today it was just dumb, "Don't cause too much trouble... please."

The last sentence came in the form of a very faint whisper, which went almost unnoticed by Ajax. A real plea, almost desperate because of the lack of credibility he had at that moment. She didn't believe in him, evident in the exacerbated concern she showed in her mannerisms.

And if to comfort her, then Ajax was willing to put on his best and most convincing cheerful mask. He had always been a boy who loved his family, and that was something that not even the claws of the Abyss could take away from him.

"Yes, Mom."

Ajax did his best not to sound the least bit false when lying to his mother — He was, he couldn't deny that — But at least Ajax did it convincingly until he could gently slip away from her gentle touch.

"I'll take care of myself. Brush my teeth, comb my hair..."

"And eat well," she added, brushing the dirt off his clothes, making him more presentable.

"...And eat well, leave it to me!"

The woman sighed, letting go of the boy. With her watery eyes turned to the side, she shook her head as if to pretend that everything was fine — an attempt to make it clear that everything was all right, that Ajax shouldn't worry. But in the end, it was to comfort herself.

"Go..." she murmured with a sad smile, shaking her face slightly to let the tears go where they shouldn't, "go with your father before you're late, and don't stir up trouble, see? Your poor mother's heart wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I'll do my best, stay super strong and—"

He was interrupted by a small smack on the head from his father; it wasn't painful, not in the slightest... but it hurt for some reason, somewhere deep inside. All he did was look up, shrug and smile as usual.

"Let's go." That was the call Ajax had been waiting for to.

This was a moment of farewell, but he remembered that it wasn't eternal. Someday, he would return home with his chest puffed out and a huge, proud smile on his face — well, that's what he hoped for.

And so, the troublemaker set foot outside his home to become what no one, not even he, expected him to be one day. Looking back at his past, his younger self, fearful and innocent, disappointed but admiring, came to mind.

An icy breeze was the first thing that greeted Ajax when he opened the door and encountered the standard whiteness of the outside scenery. It was sudden, as if to extract any remnants of warmth he felt. People would say it was a good omen coming from the Tsaritsa, a sign of good fortune on his new path.

And it's what Ajax would like to believe.

"Ajax?"

Their voice woke him from his memories, bringing him back to reality. And then suddenly, he was back in that tiny tent, the one he had never left.

"Sorry. I spaced out, didn't I?" He covered his eyes with his forearm, tiredness was starting to set in.

"Just a little bit." [Name] decided to lie down too, covering themselves with their own blanket. Their hands then went to the lamp, offering it to him, "Can you use your vision to put it out?"

"Can't we just... not put out the fire?" Ajax asked weakly.

[Name] blinked twice in surprise, then cracked a smile to tease him. "What's the matter, are you afraid—"

"No, I'm not afraid of the dark..." he cut them off in mid—sentence, turning around so that he wasn't facing them. With his face covered by the pillow, Ajax lowered his voice. "But leave the fire burning, just for now... please."

It was the first time [Name] had seen him so vulnerable, with his guard down. With such a sincere request, they were at a loss for words — even though they really wanted to understand.

"Right..." They hesitated slightly as they released the lamp. "Sweet dreams, Ajax."

Without replying, they sighed. [Name] then put their head on the pillow, looking at him with a certain empathy. But then again, it was none of their business; he would tell them when he felt comfortable.

That night would be a long one, with the two of them lying awake without exchanging a single word.

Sometimes [Name] questioned their own common sense, especially when they followed Ajax's foolish ideas. Normally, the two of them would get into trouble and be forced to do the daily tasks because of it.

But after days of insistence on his part, they had finally agreed to go ice fishing in the middle of the night because it was the only free time the both had. Did they know how to fish? No, and certainly not on ice, but there's a first time for everything.

"Hm... I don't see anyone," Ajax whispered as he looked through a gap in the tent, making sure no one was awake at this hour.

"Hang on, I can't put these on!" [Name] tried to put their boots on, but couldn't make a decent knot. They were already frustrated, tying them any way and untying them when they realized it didn't lead anywhere.

Ajax let out a chuckle, their desperation to put on simple boots was utterly comical, "Let me help you."

"I can do it myself!" [Name] stared at the tangled shoelace with a certain determination, trying to undo what they had tied.

"You said that last week, yet you couldn't do it and we lost the training—"

[Name]'s face heated up in embarrassment. What he said was true, the two of them had missed it, all because they didn't know how to put on the boots offered with the new uniform, and had to clean the weapons as punishment — not that Ajax cared, it seemed he had only focused on admiring the swords and guns rather than cleaning them.

"Shh! That's in the past!" they tried to shut him up.

Ajax shook his head slightly. He knelt down and stared at the blind knot they had tied, taking his hands to the shoelaces to straighten out the mess. "I'll teach you, check it out."

He carefully tied their shoes, making a firm loop. It was just like at home, when he helped his younger siblings put on their boots to play outside. When recalling this, an unconscious smile appeared on Ajax's lips, followed by a giggle.

"Are you laughing at me?" [name] asked, offended.

"No—" Ajax looked up, and then laughed, seeing the funny look they were making. "Yes, I am now!"

[Name] grabbed him by the cheek, hurrying him out of the tent with them. "Stop laughing, they'll wake up and it'll be our doom!"

"All right, all right!" Ajax exclaimed, removing their hand from his sore cheek. "You talk just like my mother when she scolds me..."

[Name] looked at him, smiling before teasing him. "No way, I mean, I pity your mother for having to put up with a son like you."

Ajax's frowned, he really did look offended by what they had said. "I have no idea what you're talking about, I've always been a very well—behaved child!"

"Oh, sure... if you say so, who am I to doubt it?" they agreed sarcastically. There wasn't a shred of confidence in his word.

There were endless minutes of walking and exchanging small insults. Under the moonlight, the two made their way calmly, getting further and further away from the camp. If they were lucky, no one would find out that they had run away.

They would be fishing in a frozen lake, a large mirror that reflected the light of an aurora. It was a breathtaking sight, as if they could touch the sky, and they took a cautious first step onto the it.

"Damn!" They slipped, having only the instinct to hold on to something.

"Whoa! Watch it there, comrade!" Ajax helped them regain their balance, holding them up by the arms. He took slow steps backwards so that [Name] wouldn't slip again.

[Name] smiled a little awkwardly, embarrassed. "Thanks but... This ice won't break with us on it, right?"

Ajax shook his head and firmly tapped his foot on the frozen surface, which remained intact. "It's pretty sturdy, see?"

"I see." [Name] turned their attention upwards and admired the greenish glow again. " Snezhnaya's night sky is a fascinating sight, isn't it? Even though I've seen it several times, I'm always amazed by its beauty..."

Ajax had already seen the real starry sky, the true and uncovered light of the celestial bodies. To refer to this gloomy canvas as a "fascinating sight" is an absurd statement, for it is only an empty imitation of what lies beneath the veil of the Abyss.

"You're really satisfied with anything, huh?" Ajax scoffed, with a hint of a smile on his face, "It's just floating lights, it gets boring after a while."

"Is there anything that doesn't get boring for you?" [Name] watched as Ajax started to cut the ice in a circular pattern, which appeared to be a not too difficult job for him. "Are you sure this works? I mean, it's just ice... I don't know if there's anything alive down there."

Ajax sat, eyes fixed on the hole in front of them. He hugged his knees and remained there, staring at the immensity and waiting for what would happen next. "Don't worry, we'll catch one in... a few minutes, I think."

"In about how many minutes, exactly?"

Ajax looked up thoughtfully. "A few."

"I swear to the archons, if you made us come here for nothing..." [Name] grumbled, watching the boy next to them. The way he insisted on his ideas impressed them, at the same time as it irritates; but seeing that serene face made them let out a little laugh, "Never mind, I'm the idiot one for following you."

[Name] sat down next to him, resting their face in one hand as Ajax and them waited patiently. Those moments of serenity were the complete opposite from the battles that took place everyday.

They had already seen several "comrades" fall, their lives taken while protecting the Fatui's interests. Interests that were unknown and hidden from the vast majority, concealed by individuals whose faces were unknown to many.

The Harbingers themselves were a kind of urban legends who, while everyone knew of their existence, were enigmatic and symbolic figures within the organization.

"What exactly are we fighting for?" [name] asked. There wasn't exactly a reason, because no one ever said the real purpose of the blood shed on the snowy battlefield.

Everyone's admiration and fear of the Harbingers was obvious. But just as they were feared, the kind of people whose presence is everywhere, there were more questions than answers as to their real motivation.

The closest they had seen was the Fifth, Pulcinella. [Name] didn't understand why they had been placed in his division, being a complete fool who couldn't hold a weapon without getting nervous. Even more so when, in the same division, there was Ajax.

A confused expression appeared on Ajax's face when he heard the question. Wasn't the answer obvious? At least, it was logical. "For Her Royal Highness, the Tsaritsa—"

"No, I know that. I'm talking about why we need to fight, the purpose of it all... We have a mission in a few days, and we don't even know what they want from us."

"I fight because I'm strong, isn't that enough?" Ajax seemed genuine in his response, with no hidden ambitions behind the battles he fought against his opponents. At the end of the day, it seemed to be all about the will to get stronger and better.

"No, it's not." [Name]'s gaze was serious, demanding an answer that would satisfy their curiosity. For them, Ajax was an extremely difficult puzzle to solve — a young boy who possessed the strength of a monster. But at the same time, had a heart as pure as gold. "Your name... was inspired by a hero, right? Do you want to be like them, the hero of the story?"

Ajax nodded, giving them a smirk. He remembered the old days, when he wasn't the least bit brave or powerful, just a fearful boy with a sword and a dream. "I think I'd rather be myself. It's much more fun when you do things your own way, don't you agree?"

"Well... it is, it really is." [Name]'s firm gaze softened. "Ajax, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

The boy froze in place. His mouth opened to speak, but the words he wanted to say didn't come out. He had no answer, even if he thought about it — Ajax simply didn't know.

"When I grow up..." he repeated to himself, looking for an answer, any answer. "I honestly don't know... I think I'll end up having to stay in Fatui."

"Idiot..." [name] grumbled, "I'm not saying you can't do what you want, but let's be honest with ourselves for a moment. Who would willingly stay in this hellhole?"

"Me," Ajax answered immediately, without a hint of hesitation in his speech, "If I go back home, I'll only make more trouble. Just the fact that I'm here makes life easier for everyone, and I can improve my skills."

"Of course you'd say that." They shook their heads, completely disapproving of his choice. They got up from where they sat, offering him a glance. "I envy you, you know that?"

"Hm? You..." Ajax looked up and pointed at them, then at himself. "...envy someone like me?"

"How can I not? You're strong, hopeful, stubborn and very proud," [name] listed, raising a finger for each adjective they found to describe him. "How can I not envy someone like you? You're like..."

"Everything I've always dreamed of being like."

They both uttered the same sentence at the same time, their voices becoming a unison sound that gave way to an awkward silence between them. Their eyes seemed to pierce each other, staring into the depths of the souls in search of some understanding.

"Trust me, I know what it's like," Ajax sighed, "to want to be braver, but at the same time to be too afraid of doing so."

Ajax turned his gaze back to the freezing water. Its darkness brought back vague memories of the abyss. The simple act of fishing was enough to push Ajax's mind back to the past, when he listened to his father's stories — maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to be as great as the heroes in them.

Ajax had once been a poor, fearful boy, terrified of the world outside, but with a spirit hungry for adventure. He had only a shortsword and a bag of bread — anyone could say that it was at that moment, before his fall into the confines of Teyvat, that Ajax began his transformation into what he's now.

"It's not a story I tell anyone, but I used to be a real coward," he admitted, letting out a sigh. "If one day you get stronger... like I did, would you duel with me?"

"Of course..." they smiled, making an x with their arms. "Not!"

Ajax's expression fell, replaced by that of an abandoned puppy. "But why?"

[Name] laughed at his face, crossing their arms. "Don't you remember when we first met?"

For them, the events that led to their current situation were clear as day. From before their enlistment, to the first day in the division.

They were born into a humble family, without any kind of comfort or privilege. [Name] grew up hearing all the stories about the archons and their extraordinary feats, about how lucky those who gained visions were. However, they never understood why their family admired such deities when all they received was misery.

Their parents, in a desperate act, borrowed a large amount of money, which they couldn't pay back. Disaster would be the appropriate word to describe what happened when the deadline for repaying these debts passed. As they were unable to pay, the two were killed by the debt collectors.

But [Name] always had somewhat of a way with their words, and that was the weapon they used to survive in a world like this. Somehow, they managed to negotiate their lives, in exchange for serving in the Fatui army instead of paying off an endless quantity of mora.

And shortly afterwards, [Name] were taken to the Cryo nation, landing in the middle of a terrible blizzard. If it hadn't been for the pyro vision they carried in their hands, [Name] wouldn't be alive to tell the tale, having become an ice statue.

And it was in an old and spacious office where [Name] took their first step towards their new reality. Quite nervously, their hands firmly held a document with all the information about their new career, leaving crumpled marks on its edges. [Name] had never thought they'd be offered to properly work, especially when the job was with none other than Fatui.

They were facing a short, stoic Fatui agent with a big nose and glasses. He seemed like a friendly fellow, but [Name] knew better than to trust someone who worked for those who had killed their family.

"What's your name, child?" asked the man in front of them, as he typed on a typewriter.

They had never seen anything like this, a machine that wrote for people? Unthinkable, it seemed magical, even. [Name] was so glued to it that, for a second, they forgot to answer.

"It's... [Name], that's all. I don't have a last name..."

The agent stopped his notes, giving [Name] a skeptical look. It was enough to make them nervous, unconsciously taking a small step backwards, lowering their head.

"Answer me..." The man went back to typing. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, sir. I'm from far away..." they sighed, murmuring, "very, very far...."

"Are you sure you'd like to join Fatui? You're still too young, don't you think it's a big responsibility?"

The agent gave them a gentle smile, different from the look he had given them before. It was as if he was truly giving [Name] a choice — but the truth was, if they didn't accept it, they would probably end up in the same shallow grave as their parents.

"Forgive me, sir, but it's not a question of wanting, it's a question of needing," they replied calmly, "someone has to pay these debts, right? Mora doesn't grow on trees."

[Name] wondered if they had said something wrong, since their tone hadn't exactly been friendly, mentally scolding themselves. But to their surprise, instead of getting scolded, [Name] heard a faint but present chuckle coming from the other person.

"You should thank Her Majesty the Tsaritsa for your kindness," he said, handing them the piece of paper he had been typing on, "how many people do you think have had an opportunity like this, to have their debts absolved and a job guaranteed?"

"Absolved?"

"Exactly, absolved. All we need from you, child, is your loyalty. I can see the potential, but it all depends solely on you." He pointed at their vision, hanging from their waist with a faint shine. "Surely, you're lucky enough to possess one of these."

For anyone else, receiving a vision is a blessing. However, being in possession of one is like having an eternal debt to the world. To be chosen is to be special, and to be special enough to receive a vision is to be distinct from the rest.

Sometimes it became a curse. One can no longer live like a normal person, because there will always be something that sets them apart from the rest. All those who are given one struggle in some way — Has there ever been a vision holder who truly lived an entire life peacefully, without any conflict whatsoever? At least in Snezhnaya, it seemed not.

"I... I accept..." Their eyes filled with hope, looking at their own name perfectly typed on the document. There was the real identity of the gentleman in front of them, revealed in a fancy signature, the Fifth of the Fatui Harbingers, Pulcinella.

[Name] signed their names in the blank space, sealing their fate within the organization. From that moment on, they would be part of the Fatui, just one more in the crowd — But if that was what it took to ensure their survival, [Name] would do it without hesitation.

The real issue, however, was on the first day of duty, and it had a name: Ajax.

[Name] had just put on their uniform, which was a little big for their size. But then again, there were none designed for a fifteen-year-old to wear, so they'd have to be content with what they had on hand.

At least the jacket they were given was comfortable, warm enough to block out some of the bitter cold that surrounded them each second. [Name] even looked like a proper person in it, which made them let out a little laugh.

However, it wasn't until they were standing in line in a meaningful formation that [Name] noticed a boy of a similar age to them. Red curls that stood out against the white backdrop, with a red scarf that was too long for his neck — perhaps they weren't completely alone in that place.

[Name] waited patiently until the time came for them to start training, watching him with eagle eyes, following Ajax wherever he went. When they finally mustered up the courage, they approached him and extended a hand towards him.

"Hello, I'm [Name],"

"Hey!" The boy grinned and shook their hands firmly. "I'm Ajax!"

"Well... looks like we're the same age, huh? How about we train together?" they suggested, thinking it was the best option.

"Sure!" Ajax nodded, putting the sword he was holding aside. "That would be, like... an invitation to battle, right?"

Technically, it was, so they just followed the his reasoning and confirmed it. "Mhm!"

"Then get ready!" he announced, preparing to throw a full punch.

[Name] didn't react immediately, surprised at the speed of the boy who had already set up his punch. "W-WAIT—"

Thud.

Complete darkness was how the first and last friendly match between the two ended, with Ajax knocking them out with a single punch. That's how [Name] would learn that fighting Ajax was a trap. However, [Name] wouldn't lie that at least it had been the best sleep they'd had in months — and the worst black eye they'd ever gotten, too.

"Teyvat to [Name]?" They awoke from their thoughts to see Ajax's hand moving in front of their face. He then tapped them on the forehead. "Is anyone there?"

"Oh, sorry, I got distracted. I was just remembering the punch you gave me." They laughed. "Speaking of which, you also punched that guy the other day too... what's with punching people, redhead?"

"I've already apologized!" His face heated up with embarrassment. "And punching is way more practical. You'd be shocked if you knew how strong a punch from me can really be, when I throw one for real!"

"Hm, sure, no doubt about it—"

"I got one!" Ajax exclaimed, trying to pull the line back on the rod with great difficulty. "A little help would be nice, you know!"

[Name] hurried, wrapping their arms around him and pulling back to bring the fish to the surface. But the animal wouldn't cooperate, even with the effort they made take it out of the water.

Ajax took a step back. "That was fast!"

"Fast? We've been waiting for almost an hour—" They slipped on the ice, pulling him and the fish along with them. In the end, Ajax and [Name] both fell flat, like two idiots.

[Name] looked at him, who was holding the fish in his hands while the animal struggled in them. It was a funny sight, which was enough to get a genuine laugh out of them.

"Haha..." they laughed weakly, then raised their tone, "Hahaha!"

Ajax, hearing the sound of their giggles, bursted into laughter. He laughed so hard that small tears formed in his eyes, "Hahaha... What are we laughing at?"

[Name] pointed at him, "At you, you fool!"

"Oh, really?!" Ajax stood up, bringing the fish in his hands near them. "Let's see who gets the last laugh!"

[Name] got up and ran across the ice, running away from him. They slipped and balanced, with an infectious smile on their faces accompanied by the sweet sound of their laughter, while Ajax chased after them with the animal.

It was moments like this that reminded them that they weren't adults, but two true children at heart.

At least once a week, Ajax and [Name] were sent on missions. They weren't often in charge of the more complicated ones, as they were still too young. However, for the first time, the two of them were allowed to take part in a more risky operation.

The two were supposed to stay with the older ones, but [Name] found themselves alone, having gotten separated from the rest by accident. In the middle of such a large forest, they could only hope that a blizzard wouldn't strike right away.

[Name] analyzed their surroundings, trying to retrace the steps that led them to nowhere and return to where the division had planned to reunite. However, they seemed to go round in circles, never reaching their destination.

That's when they noticed a coat lying in the snow. It was brown, very different from the Fatui soldiers' uniform, with a shabby finishing and a gross smell of blood.

Pow.

That's what they heard, a loud, familiar sound that sent shivers down their spines. Looking up, they saw a bullet hole in the tree, well above their heads — by perhaps two centimeters, they would no longer be alive.

"...!" [Name] instinctively looked for the source of the sound, quickly finding it.

Their desperate eyes met another's, which held no pity. Yet another soldier, wounded, carrying a gun and a tremendous amount of hatred — not everyone liked the Fatui, and not everyone had sympathy just because they were a child.

Frightened, [Name] ran desperately, followed by fierce gunfire that almost hit them. [Name] hid behind a tree and drew out their bow, but couldn't hold it properly no matter how much they tried, since it always slipped from their hands.

The enemy was indeed wounded, but armed and apparently experienced. The look in his face had been enough to send shivers down their spine, because when compared to them, who couldn't even use their vision properly, it was like facing a real monster.

"It'll be all right..." they whispered to themselves. "I just need to—"

[Name] heard more gunshots, too close to where they were. Something told them to run, but also to stay, accept the invitation and have a proper fight. If it was to survive, then [Name] would fight, they needed to.

[Name] couldn't hide forever, it wouldn't be right.

"Come on, you bastard!" [name] shouted, their voice echoing through the woods, as they aimed their bows in the direction of the enemy.

They used their vision and set the arrow ablaze, burning their own fingertips in the process. They didn't know how to control the force with which the arrow burned, but they knew it would hurt anyone who was struck.

[Name] clumsily launched the first arrow, dodging a shower of bullets headed their way. They hoped it was enough, that they had been able to send it flying at his face. But instead, the projectile pierced through his shoulder.

"Damn!" the soldier shouted, trying to reload his weapon while wincing in pain, but his ammunition had run out.

He came up and pistol—whipped them, causing [Name] to cry out in pain for a few seconds. The impact was so intense that they dropped their weapon and fell into the snow.

[Name] then felt the real despair of being weak. They could hear their hearts pounding in their ears and their eyes watering from the pain of the blows they received to the head, while blood trickled down their faces.

They grabbed his foot, applying pyro to their hands to make his boot burn along with it. When he fell, it was then that they saw their chance to stay alive handed to them on a platter.

They reached for the bow that lay on the ground next to them, firmly holding it anyway. Nothing mattered, only survival and that was all — they only needed to survive, to live long enough to prove that they were capable.

It didn't take much for one person to kill another, just despair. That feeling of helplessness and genuine dread, which would move mountains if necessary, was all it took to pull the trigger.

They violently hit the enemy in the face with their own bow, as if it were a bat. It was only when the return attacks stopped that they realized what they had done. The body below had an expression of terror, eyes wide as blood dripped onto the white snow, staining its purity with a crimson shade.

"I—I didn't... I did this...?" They stared at their bloodied hands, feeling their heart beating wildly against their chest. That's when, suddenly, an incessant urge to cough overtook them, but only blood came from their mouth.

[Name] looked down and realized that they had been shot in the chest. The bullet had gone through what seemed to be their lung, they didn't know, the adrenaline was hiding the pain for as long as it took. However, the spot hit was clearly a lethal wound.

They took two clumsy steps backwards, shaking their heads in denial. [Name] was too afraid to do anything like that, taking a life itself was too cruel an act for them, but it was done.

However, they didn't want to die as murderers, not really. So, with determination, [Name] decided they wouldn't die there.

They turned around and ran that time like there was no tomorrow, using every drop of adrenaline they still had in their bodies. [Name] couldn't see the sun shining, only the same gray clouds that covered the sky, which seemed to mock the fact that there was no light at the end.

Their only way out was to get to the camp, where there should be healers waiting for the wounded. However, it was difficult for [Name] to distinguish the landscape around them, especially in such a nervous state.

[Name] tripped over their own foot, losing their balance and rolling painfully down the mountain. They watched life pass before their eyes, each moment painful with the intention of just surviving, not living. Then they closed their eyes tightly, already bracing themselves for a more abrupt impact and accepting certain death.

They hit a tree, before rolling one last time to the bottom of the hill. Fortunately, or not, it was low enough for them not to die on impact — they did wish it had been stronger, ending it all quickly.

[Name] felt like a bird, floating in the sky with their eyes closed. They thought they had died because of the serenity felt for a few seconds, only to be crushed by the cruel reality. Their fall had been gently cushioned by the snow, but even with all this effort, they couldn't see the camp — which meant it had all been in vain.

Finally, the pain returned to their body as if it had never left. Breathing was difficult, with each breath being painful in the extreme, as if their organs were punishing them for still being alive.

"N—No," they sobbed through words, hot tears contrasting with the coldness that cruelly coursed through their veins. "I—I hate it... I wanted to die in peace, not like this... Not like this..."

Their trembling hands squeezed the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. [Name] didn't know how much time they had left, they didn't want to know either, all left to do was pray to Tsaritsa and beg for a little mercy, for a quick death if possible.

[Name] still hadn't paid their debt to Her Majesty, for the life they had been offered. For the bread to eat every day, for the tent they had over their heads, for letting them breathe, for letting them remain in existence, they had to do their utmost to repay all the favors with whatever they could.

For the gratuitously heavy insults that they had to swallow in silence because they were weak; for the mountains and snowstorms that brought them down along the way; for the disgraceful defective vision of theirs — or rather, they were the defective ones.

"P—Please..." [Name] begged the nothing, while holding their vision close to their chest, "if miracles really do exist…”

How many things had [Name] thrown away, when what they wanted most was to prove to everyone that, even if they were weak, they didn't need to prove anything to anyone? [Name] didn't know, only the bitterness of a wasted time remained in their hearts.

They let their tears fall over the flaming orb, whose glow no longer seemed the same. With one last kiss to the gem, a silent thank you, they began to weep for a life they were about to lose.

There would be no one to mourn their death, to lament the defeat of someone who had never once won. They probably wouldn't even have a funeral, but would just be buried somewhere like an animal. How terrible would it be to be completely forgotten, with no soul to remember their existence?

And Ajax, their only friend... finally acknowledged this fact. Would the boy be desolate? Grieve? Or would he carry on as he always seemed to do?

They regretted not having told him things in life that only they could say. They could only hope for the best, that he wouldn't take the news that badly — but at the same time, there was a small, selfish desire for him to feel their death. Not because [Name] wanted him to suffer, but because that way they would know that they mattered to someone.

[Name] recalled the memories they had made with him, like when they first met, when they went ice fishing a few days ago. The image of how they ran and laughed with him that night, as if they weren't the next ones to die, was fresh.

At last, their body felt light, receiving a moment of tranquillity reserved for the end of endings, when [Name] felt nothing but the slow rhythm of their heartbeats, fighting for a lost cause, as if they didn't have two holes in their chests.

"I was truly... useless until the end, wasn't I...?" [Name] murmured what they knew would be their last words, a vent to themselves and to the world. With the last beat of their hearts and the cessation of their breathing, snowflakes touched the now freezing skin. "I hope I have served you well... Your Majesty..."

They died in silence, without disturbing anyone.

Meanwhile, with the mission over, Ajax found himself extremely bored. Contemplating the pure white snow stained with blood as he returned to camp had already become a habit of his.

He could not care less that his face had a few small scratches on it. Though, he had to admit, that any kind of mission made him tired. But before he could rest, he found a place to rest. So Ajax began to look for them throughout the camp, without any success in his search.

'They must be receiving medical care...' He thought, as he made his way towards the tent where the doctors were staying.

It was a small space that was often crowded with the number of people wounded during missions. Finding any specific person was difficult, even more so when he was being pestered to be treated right away because he was younger.

"Are you sure you don't want to go first?" one of the doctors asked, placing a hand on his bruised face.

"No, I'm fine!" Ajax smiled. "I'm just looking for..."

For some reason, his eyes fixed on a particular corner of the tent. Away from the rest, it was where they put the bodies of those who had perished in combat; but Ajax had never taken much notice of it, so why now?

He approached slowly, in silence. Ajax felt an uncharacteristic nervousness come over him, running through his veins. The chills he felt seemed to swallow him up from the inside out, it had been a long time since Ajax had felt like this, as if something was screaming "don't go there, stay here" and attempting to keep him from discovering the truth, as he approached a particular cloth.

He stopped in front of the covered figure, noticing something sticking out of the cloth. An object, a... vision. But the only ones in the entire division who possessed one were him and... [Name].

Terror was too little to describe what overtook Ajax, who hesitated to lift the cloth covering the individual's face. He wished he wouldn't hear his head and believe that they weren't the dead man in front of him.

With trembling hands, which he tried to stop, Ajax lifted the fabric slightly. And that's when the ground really seemed to crumble beneath him — they were dead, [Name] was truly dead.

Their skin was so pale and cold that it scared him a bit. But what particularly caught Ajax's eye was the sheer amount of blood they had lost, as their face and hair were completely stained a deep crimson red; and no one had bothered to close their eyes, devoid of life and its particular glow. Now, they were just a pit of darkness that matched his own.

"..." Ajax just stared, unable to say anything. Everything was trapped inside, without him being able to express it.

Ajax tried to tell himself that he didn't care, that they weren't really friends, just work colleagues. But the sadness in his heart betrayed the stoicism he tried so hard to maintain.

Ajax closed their eyes gently and kissed [Name]'s forehead gently before covering their face with the cloth again. It was an action that any mother would take on seeing her child dead, but they didn't have one to weep over their death — and if there wasn't one, then Ajax would play his part in showing respect for them.

Ajax may even have changed when he fell into the abyss, becoming a maniac for fighting and confusion. But at the end of the day, he was human just like everyone else.

Two days later, the tent they shared was cold, without the heat of the lamp to warm Ajax up, as it had already gone out with the icy wind coming through the gap in the entrance.

It was [Name] who kept them warm in the middle of the night, using their vision to keep the fire burning. And that was just a bitter reminder that they were no longer there.

The others had taken away everything that was theirs, accommodating what would be the belongings of a new tentmate, who would be arriving in a few days. It was as if they had ceased to exist altogether.

Ajax wouldn't mind being hit in the face with a pillow if they were the ones to hit him, with that smile, with that irritating tone of voice of theirs that Ajax recognized from afar. He wouldn't mind being called "redhead" again, if it was them calling him that.

"Ajax?" The voice that called him from outside was familiar to Ajax. It was the Fifth.

Ajax promptly got to his feet, walking outside the tent and greeting him politely, a treatment he reserved only for The Rooster. "I'm here, sir."

"I heard that one of your companions fell in battle... a shame," the Harbinger said, as he searched for something in his pocket. "Well, here it is..."

The man handed him a gray envelope, a letter. In the corner was written in almost illegible handwriting the names of the sender and recipient, respectively: [Name] and Ajax.

"Thank you, sir," he nodded, holding the envelope tightly in his hands.

"You were both very similar ages, you and..." the Rooster paused, having forgotten their name.

"[Name]." It was the first time Ajax had said their names, having called them "comrade" all the time since they'd met. Honestly, it hurt a little, how difficult it was to utter a simple phoneme.

A few minutes later, Ajax said goodbye to the Harbinger and entered the darkness of the tent again. He left out a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever was written inside that envelope.

Ajax could no longer remember what The Rooster had talked about, only that the exchange of words had been short, like all the others before. He didn't even have the mind to think about it now, he could apologize later if he forgot some important information.

But right now, the only thing that mattered to Ajax was [Name]'s letter. He opened the envelope, trying to be careful not to tear it, but in the end he did. Ajax strained his eyes to read what was written there, in a handwriting as bad as theirs.

Dear Ajax,

Should I start a letter with "dear"? I don't know, honestly, I have never written one. Well, if this letter found you, then that means I must be dead by now. I'm sure you're glad I did, as you'll now have the whole tent to yourself.

I've written this because I know that, in life, I might not be able to say what I think. I believe we're already friends, don't you too? That's how I feel about you, I think you're my only friend, and I've been very happy about that. Thank you, thank you very much, for the joyful and humorous moments you've provided me with in this little end of the world that is Snezhnaya.

I asked you the other day if you felt homesick; you may deny it, but I can understand how you feel, away from everyone you love in a place like this. Know that whatever may happen, I believe that the same people you miss feel the same way you do.

Don't listen to that little voice in your head that whispers "you're nothing but trouble", it's stupid. When I look at you, I don't see a troubled boy, but a boy with the heart of another. That day we were late for training, you could just as well have walked away and let me be punished for being late, but you didn't. We cleaned all the weapons by ourselves. We polished all the weapons alone, for hours, and you never complained. Why was that?

I don't know, but I'd like it to stay that way, so keep going! I'll be cheering you on from wherever I am, because you're the best warrior I've ever had the honor of meeting.

I end this letter with my admiration and gratitude to you; and never forget: we have our own time!

With much care,

[Name].

A single tear fell onto the paper, right below their name, accompanied by others that would soon form a hot waterfall in his eyes. Ajax didn't know how to respond to this, covering his face with the paper, as if he was embarrassed to end up being seen like this

Perhaps it was for the better, a reminder that life really wasn't fair, and that Ajax had strayed from the path he was on. He didn't want to care so much, but at the same time he did.

Ajax wanted someone to comfort him, to tell and reassure him that it was all right, that this sort of thing did happen, but at the same time, it didn't. It was hard, very hard, to face it. It was difficult, very difficult, to face the loneliness that he tried so hard to hide behind brute strength.

Anyone who saw him like that would doubt that he was the same person who ravaged the battlefield with his bloodlust, the boy who seemed like an uncontrollable monster with an indomitable spirit, causing trouble wherever he went.

But for one last time, in the darkness of that tent, he allowed himself to be... Vulnerable.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜ Wasted youth.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Platonic!Ajax x GN!Reader

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 11k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: violence, blood, death.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐀/𝐍: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I hope everyone can enjoy this <3

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩. 𝐛𝐲 Tempo Perdido - Legião Urbana

✦⸼࣪⸳ likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

Snezhnaya is not exactly a friendly nation. The cold that seems to run from the veins to the depths of people's innermost being brings with it a certain hostility towards those who don't know the heart of the land. But within Ajax's distorted childhood perception, Snezhnaya was like a gentle mother, protecting its children under icy embrace.

But then, why did such a loving land allow its own child to fall into the deepest depths of the Abyss? Like drowning in freezing water, a child who survived Teyvat's darkest and loneliest place would certainly not come out of it the same as he went in.

"Ajax" was still Ajax, wasn't he? The same child, named after a hero from ancient tales, full of compassion and empathy, now carried with him a gaze that was deader than the fish he caught on ice.

Joining the Fatui wasn't in his plans for the future; being one of them wasn't so bad, although he wasn't expecting much for the future. But what he didn't like was being the youngest in the unit, it was a complete humiliation.

Not that the seniors were a challenge for him, but being constantly underestimated was... infuriating, to say the least. While his strength was admirable — thanks to Skirk, he would thank her someday — Ajax felt constantly bored, with no meaningful challenge ahead of him.

"Redhead!" The call was accompanied by a snowball, which hit him square in the face; his moment of peace was interrupted, though it didn't really matter.

Ajax could only sigh before letting out a soundless laugh, knowing exactly who had hit him: [Name], a recruit not much older than him, maybe a year or so. Being under the same division, it wasn't unusual to bump into them. "Here it comes..."

They weren't exactly friends, more like acquaintances. However, they also kept in touch enough to be just "acquaintances". Never friends, perhaps not at all.

As if he had some kind of radar, [Name] always appeared whenever Ajax had his rare moment of philosophical thought of questionable quality. Usually to disrupt the whole process.

" Damn, looks like you really found me," he laughed, turning to look at them.

"That's the third time I've had to look for you this week," they complained, carefully preparing another snowball to throw at him. "I always get scolded because of you, you know that?"

They weren't exactly wrong. Whenever Ajax wandered off the map, it was [Name] who had to look for him in the frozen woods. Not that they really bothered to do it, but it was tiring going around in circles until they found him.

"Look at it as part of your job."

"Babysitting...?"

"No, looking after your companions."

"... How idiotic."

"How heroic. It's very noble to look after your friends, you know?" Ajax corrected. His eyes returned to scanning the surrounding trees in a relaxed manner.

"Not when said 'friends' get into trouble all the time," they retorted.

"I always come back, it's not like you need to hunt me down like I'm some criminal on the loose." He shook his head briskly, brushing the snow off the top of his hair. However, he was greeted with another sharp shot right to the scalp.

"Look... So, all due respect, but you're not far off being one, you know?" they shyly replied. Not in a rude way, but still a little offensive to whoever it was directed at.

He didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended by what they said. Maybe both? Well, they weren't exactly wrong... Ajax was already considered a marginal project, or at least it seemed that way.

"Why did you do that?"

"What? You have to specify or I won't know,” his smile fell, replaced by a neutral expression. He tried to feign ignorance, but it didn't work very well.

"Don't be cynical. You beat up an older soldier. Aren't you a little ashamed?”

Which soldier were they talking about? It didn't matter to him anyway, as he'd lost count of how many he'd challenged and won — it wasn't a difficult task, they were never a match for him.

All too often they were weak, and [Name] was the worst of them all. That's why Ajax didn't even bother trying when inviting them to a duel, because the result was obvious from the start. The last time they sparred, it was be boring, easy and not worth the effort.

"Should I be? If a soldier almost two meters tall can't beat up a 14—year—old, then that means he's a weakling, doesn't it?" Ajax crossed his arms. "Besides, he called me names before, so we're even."

"Seriously..." they sighed, "Seriously, try not to make such a fuss. The Fifth can get you out of most trouble, only until you do something, let's say, really catastrophic."

"Something catastrophic like...?" he asked curiously, his gaze fixed on them.

"Like... burning down the Zapolyarny palace?"

His jaw dropped in shock, and a touch of offense showed on his cold—pink face. That was the most absurd thing he had heard in recent times. "What?! Why do you think I would do something like that?"

"Because it's you we're talking about, redhead."

"What's with the nickname?"

"I think it's funny, don't you?"

"You know... whatever." Ajax put his hands on his waist, shaking his head slightly. "I'll take that as an excuse to put a nickname on you too."

"So you're going to stop with the ' comrade' thing and come up with something even worse? Really?"

"Maybe so... maybe not. Who knows?"

The boy gave a relaxed smile, patting them on the shoulder before moving on. His heavy footsteps in the snow served as a background noise to the uneasy silence around them.

"I found it."

"Hm? Found what?" Ajax raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

[Name] pulled out a red scarf, so familiar to Ajax, from inside their backpack, carefully tying it around his neck. The fabric was warm, or perhaps it was the feeling of zeal, or also the nostalgia it brought.

Ajax hadn't realized he had left it behind. And when he realized it, the difference between the cold air and the protection of the scarf was remarkable — was he so distracted that he didn't notice?

The boy's gloved hands touched the soft fabric of the scarf, bringing it closer to his face and snuggling into the warmth. "Where did you find it, comrade?"

" Somewhere, it doesn't matter." They put their hands in the pockets, looking around at the landscape around them. "Aren't you afraid of getting lost in the forest?"

Ajax let out a genuine laugh when he heard their question, as if it were something ridiculous. "Getting lost? I know my way around pretty well."

[Name] narrowed their eyes, firmly disbelieving Ajax's words. For them, the scenery remained the same, no matter how far they went — well, they didn't go very far at all.

"What? It's all the same, like... just trees and snow everywhere."

Ajax held back a laugh, as if what they'd said was completely dumb. "You're not from Snezhnaya, right?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Were you trying to hide it at all?" He couldn't help but laugh at the redness that appeared on [Name]'s face.

They were almost the scarlet color of their vision, which they proudly carried on a chain attached to their jacket. Pyro and Hydro, it was yet another thing that made them so opposite from each other.

"You know what, never mind! Just follow me." They extended a hand towards him, an almost forced offer.

Ajax hesitated, staring at the hand in front of him for a few long seconds before accepting it. He held it with some hesitation, not wanting to apply more force than he should have. He didn't mean to hurt, but he also had moments when he couldn't control his own strength.

They walked together through the snow, their steps in perfect sync. He noticed these small details as he looked down at the ground, thinking over and over again about an endless cycle. Sometimes, he just let that little silence take over his head, alone without direction, lost in the image of his own breath coming in the form of fog.

[Name] mumbled something, Ajax nodded, but forgot all about it soon after. They knew he wasn't paying attention, but didn't care, increasing the strength with which they held his hand.

"You don't like it here? Is that why you keep running away?"

"It's not running away if you come back.”

[Name] genuinely felt like punching Ajax in the face every time he opened his mouth and let out some stupid reason like this, but they would obviously leave it to imagination. The willingness wasn't lacking, but the courage was.

Perhaps if they were stronger, braver, they could say what they really wanted. But they weren't, and that kept them behind a fine line between the two, where Ajax always seemed to be in the front.

Everything in Snezhnaya, absolutely everything, filled them with an internal revolt. The cold that seemed to freeze them inside, the infinitely same path that seemed to lead nowhere, not being taken seriously — but for now, they would do anything to please those on top, especially since they were the ones in control of everything anyway.

"Don't ignore my question, go on. I know you heard me."

As soon as they arrived at the camp, they were greeted by an angry soldier with a large purple eye. That was the man Ajax had hit, and clearly he didn't look happy.

"Look, the bastard's really back," he said sarcastically, snapping his fingers. "Are you going to come at me for no reason like a savage again, like you did earlier?"

"Liar," they retorted, shaking their heads in denial and pointing a finger at the soldier, "you previously morally attacked Ajax, an exemplary boy..."

Ajax nodded, crossing his arms. Exemplary was by far what he was, but he had to agree with those who defended him. What he didn't expect was that they would retract their words soon after.

"...sort of."

"A... gentle boy?" They gave him a sideways glance, as if for confirmation; all he got back was a slight shake of the head.

"sort of..."

There was a lack of good adjectives to describe what he was — what he had become.

It would be less work if they just called him strong, but they didn't. They didn't want to reduce him to something. They didn't seem to want to reduce him to something the soldier in front of them already knew. Or rather, they didn't want to reduce Ajax to a simple strong boy.

They cleared their throats with a smile, grabbing Ajax by the collar, "Give us a second!"

Honestly, he was expecting a beating, not a strategy meeting behind a bush — not that he was going to complain, but at least he was hoping for a fight or something. His clenched fists contained the real desire to punch that soldier right in the face, but unfortunately he couldn't do that.

"'Sort of', really?" Ajax mimicked with a playful tone.

They rolled their eyes, fidgeting. "One of two ways: either I lie by calling you dumb, or I lie by calling you stupid!"

His jaw dropped for a moment. Was Ajax that stupid in their eyes? Not that he was the most self—controlled or straightforward person, but that dumb was an insult. "Oh, but I'm not dumb!"

"Perfect! Then you're stupid!"

The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Just as they didn't understand him, Ajax didn't understand them one bit.

"Seriously, I'm trying to help you... but then you have to help me help you."

"I think you've got it wrong. I appreciate the attempt, not to be rude... but I don't think I asked you to help me in the first place." He tried to smooth it over somehow, with that annoying little smile of his.

They felt their eyes ticking just hearing him, but soon pulled themselves together and returned the smile with a sarcastic tone intertwined with the words, "Really?”

"Mhm!" Ajax smiled. "Then I'm going for it, you said!"

Ajax ran off, abandoning them behind the bush to do whatever he wanted. Training, fighting, getting into another fight... it was all very unpredictable when it came to someone as peculiar as Ajax.

[Name] stood there, letting out a sigh as he thought about how weird this boy was. But there was no denying that Ajax was truly exceptional at getting out of trouble, and that made them more and more curious about him.

Sometimes, before going to sleep, Ajax would close his eyes and think about the day he'd had. He would ponder how small details were so easily erased — he couldn't remember who accompanied him on the march, or the name of the guy he had hit. But it was okay, it was fine not to remember.

The important thing was to keep going, without wasting time, and to move on. Ajax didn't need anything else, or anyone else, just himself to become very strong.

"Here you go, redhead." He was called by [Name], who threw a pillow right in his face.

" Man, you really like throwing things at me, don't you?" complained, pulling the pillow away from his face, "Have I become a punching bag now?"

"You forgot your pillow. If you wake up with a stiff neck, you'll be complaining in my ear all day tomorrow."

"I don't complain—"

"You think you don't, but you nag like an old man!"

Ajax threw himself backwards, lying on the mattress hugging the pillow close to his face. He muttered irritably to himself something almost inaudible, something that [Name] could only wish weren't curses in their direction.

"Look, I don't know what kind of problem you have," Ajax began, rolling his eyes in frustration, but soon changed his tone to something more playful, "if you want to settle something with me, come fight. Unless you're too much of a chicken not to fight someone younger and stronger than you."

"Whatever" [name] grumbled as they adjusted the flame of the lamp with their vision, "I already know I have zero percent chance against someone like... you."

"Why, comrade? It's not like I'm going to kill anyone in sight or anything like that." He smiled, giving a slight chuckle.

"Yes, of course, and I'm a slime" [name] sarcastically answered.

"Honestly, I don't mean to offend you or anything..." Ajax sat up, running a light hand through his hair to remove it from his face. "But I really wonder how someone so coward got into Fatui. I mean, you're afraid to even hold your own bow."

[Name] listened attentively to his words, but kept their gaze fixed on the lamp in her hands. It was the only source of warmth between them at the moment, and they couldn't let it go out so soon.

"The reason I'm in Fatui..." Their eyes did not leave the flame in hand, carefully observing the orange color that reflected on everything around him. [Name] avoided this question whenever it was asked, because they knew they weren't strong, and didn't force themselves to be, but the truth was too shameful.

"I believe I am indebted to Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa. I must render my services for her generosity, and also... for this little thing here, which has guaranteed me everything I have now."

They picked it up and swung it around, the vibrant red gemstone seeming to emanate heat in a veritable mirage. Even though the temperature was almost below zero, it still retained its tiny hints of flame.

"Well, I guess that's it. I was born like anyone else, subject to mistakes and defects. But I don't think I'm worthless, after all..." they paused for a single second, letting out a sigh before continuing, "even doormats have their uses."

Ajax's face softened as he listened to them. He was speechless, sincerely mute without an answer to their words. No silly comment came to mind, just nothing. He waited a while in silence before finally asking: "Wow, that was something..."

"I think we've talked enough about me, what about you?" They asked with a little smile, and Ajax relaxed a little.

"About me? Hm... I think I have several stories! Like today when I punched that guy!" he cheered, throwing a fake punch in the air to represent his fight.

[Name] let out a simple laugh, amused by his actions. They thought the boy was a piece of work, silly but very funny; also very intriguing in every respect. At fourteen, joining the Fatui and doing well was something out of this world from everyone else's perspective.

"No, silly! I don't care about that sort of thing." They shook their heads in denial.

Ajax blinked twice, confusion clear on his face. "What...? So what do you want to know, anyway?"

They patted his head lightly, making Ajax turn as red as a tomato. It was unexpected, and he didn't know how to react to it, he wasn't prepared, but it wasn't that bad either. For the first time in a long time, Ajax allowed himself to receive a bit of care.

"Tell me, redhead," they called him by that silly nickname again, getting a funny look from him, "do you miss home at all?"

"Homesick? Hm... I don't know, I don't think so."

"Lying to yourself is always the worst kind of lie, so don't do this."

"If I really miss home..."

Home. Did Ajax really miss home? It was very hard for them to guess what was going through his head when all he did was fight and cause trouble. Although he had his ridiculous faults, there was still a gentle child inside, deep down.

Ajax was about to answer when it finally hit. It was the kind of question that nobody really asked in the Fatui. Everyone usually acted in accordance with their situation, there was no room in the Camp for whining.

The only tears were those that were left on the pillow, turned upside down as soon as the first rays of sun appeared in the morning. Hidden, sealed away from the gaze of others, while everything continued in the shadows.

He remembered perfectly the day he left home, beginning his career as a soldier.

Ajax checked his appearance one last time in the mirror. He didn't mind the state he was in, with a few scars on his hands and small scratches on his face from the mess that had occurred before he was enlisted — but he couldn't look relaxed either, Ajax needed to look presentable for some reason.

He could hear some whispering, not so quiet, of children behind him. He could see their reflections, curious as ever, but pretended not to have noticed, not wanting to end their failed attempt at spying.

When the clock finally struck a certain time, he knew it was time to go. Ajax had been preparing since the day before, when he received the news. It hadn't been easy to accept, but Ajax had no voice after everything he had done.

It was easy to feel the blood on his hands, even though he had washed them over and over again. While his combat skills were fascinating, it was frightening to see how easy it was to seriously hurt someone.

But at the same time, he felt the adrenaline of fighting pulsing through his veins, bringing with it an insatiable desire for battle. He didn't have a strong enemy, he didn't have anyone who could challenge his skills in this little corner of the world he lived in. Being the strongest shouldn't be so boring, at least not for him.

When he stepped out of his room, the first thing he saw were his little siblings. Their faces were full of questions, asking for an answer as to where he was going, why he was leaving and other questions that Ajax wasn't allowed to answer, nor was he in the mood to answer them.

This was what he really dreaded, the farewell.

He hugged each sibling as if it was the last time seeing them, his eyes filled with anguish disguised as emotion and tears that weren't exactly shed. He felt a knot down his throat — how hard it was to try and keep a smile, with such a conflicted feeling in his chest.

Perhaps that was the hardest part, because the younger ones had no idea where their older brother would end up. They didn't know that he was going where no other child should go. The only excuse he could come up with was something about a fantastic toy factory, and they bought it.

He swallowed it all, keeping his typical charisma in a comforting smile. Blindly lying to himself that all that was to come was just a distraction where he could meet stronger people, bigger obstacles and climb them without hesitation.

He ran down the stairs as if it was the last time, and it would be, because long gone was the boy who once smiled here. Hearing the children's voices saying casual goodbyes, as if it were just another ordinary day and that he would be back soon. Touching the banister, sliding along and feeling the texture of the wood, brought a little sadness. It was full of scratches and loose splinters, just the way he would remember it.

Taking a deep breath, he let the smell of wax invade his lungs for one last time. Little did he know, but this would become another moment for nostalgia in just a few days.

He hesitated to leave that warm place, so precious and cozy that it was the only thing capable of bringing a tear to his eyes after leaving the abyss. Not all things in life work out the way we want them to, and he needed to learn that, if only in the harshest way possible.

"Discipline" was what it was supposed to be, a form of punishment for all the trouble he had made. Like a staircase, Ajax climbed step by step in his acts of violence until he reached the irreversible point of his insatiable hunger for battle

But life always takes its toll. And for Ajax, life decided to give, demand and take away almost instantly.

Saying goodbye to his mother, who wrapped a red wool scarf around his neck, Ajax could only keep smiling. If it hadn't been for the hesitation and worry in her eyes, distressed that her young son would end up in a place like the Fatui, everything would have been so much easier.

"My little warrior," she called him, a cheesy nickname that suited the wild boy perfectly. While it was ironic in the past, given that Ajax was a big scaredy—cat, today it was just dumb, "Don't cause too much trouble... please."

The last sentence came in the form of a very faint whisper, which went almost unnoticed by Ajax. A real plea, almost desperate because of the lack of credibility he had at that moment. She didn't believe in him, evident in the exacerbated concern she showed in her mannerisms.

And if to comfort her, then Ajax was willing to put on his best and most convincing cheerful mask. He had always been a boy who loved his family, and that was something that not even the claws of the Abyss could take away from him.

"Yes, Mom."

Ajax did his best not to sound the least bit false when lying to his mother — He was, he couldn't deny that — But at least Ajax did it convincingly until he could gently slip away from her gentle touch.

"I'll take care of myself. Brush my teeth, comb my hair..."

"And eat well," she added, brushing the dirt off his clothes, making him more presentable.

"...And eat well, leave it to me!"

The woman sighed, letting go of the boy. With her watery eyes turned to the side, she shook her head as if to pretend that everything was fine — an attempt to make it clear that everything was all right, that Ajax shouldn't worry. But in the end, it was to comfort herself.

"Go..." she murmured with a sad smile, shaking her face slightly to let the tears go where they shouldn't, "go with your father before you're late, and don't stir up trouble, see? Your poor mother's heart wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I'll do my best, stay super strong and—"

He was interrupted by a small smack on the head from his father; it wasn't painful, not in the slightest... but it hurt for some reason, somewhere deep inside. All he did was look up, shrug and smile as usual.

"Let's go." That was the call Ajax had been waiting for to.

This was a moment of farewell, but he remembered that it wasn't eternal. Someday, he would return home with his chest puffed out and a huge, proud smile on his face — well, that's what he hoped for.

And so, the troublemaker set foot outside his home to become what no one, not even he, expected him to be one day. Looking back at his past, his younger self, fearful and innocent, disappointed but admiring, came to mind.

An icy breeze was the first thing that greeted Ajax when he opened the door and encountered the standard whiteness of the outside scenery. It was sudden, as if to extract any remnants of warmth he felt. People would say it was a good omen coming from the Tsaritsa, a sign of good fortune on his new path.

And it's what Ajax would like to believe.

"Ajax?"

Their voice woke him from his memories, bringing him back to reality. And then suddenly, he was back in that tiny tent, the one he had never left.

"Sorry. I spaced out, didn't I?" He covered his eyes with his forearm, tiredness was starting to set in.

"Just a little bit." [Name] decided to lie down too, covering themselves with their own blanket. Their hands then went to the lamp, offering it to him, "Can you use your vision to put it out?"

"Can't we just... not put out the fire?" Ajax asked weakly.

[Name] blinked twice in surprise, then cracked a smile to tease him. "What's the matter, are you afraid—"

"No, I'm not afraid of the dark..." he cut them off in mid—sentence, turning around so that he wasn't facing them. With his face covered by the pillow, Ajax lowered his voice. "But leave the fire burning, just for now... please."

It was the first time [Name] had seen him so vulnerable, with his guard down. With such a sincere request, they were at a loss for words — even though they really wanted to understand.

"Right..." They hesitated slightly as they released the lamp. "Sweet dreams, Ajax."

Without replying, they sighed. [Name] then put their head on the pillow, looking at him with a certain empathy. But then again, it was none of their business; he would tell them when he felt comfortable.

That night would be a long one, with the two of them lying awake without exchanging a single word.

Sometimes [Name] questioned their own common sense, especially when they followed Ajax's foolish ideas. Normally, the two of them would get into trouble and be forced to do the daily tasks because of it.

But after days of insistence on his part, they had finally agreed to go ice fishing in the middle of the night because it was the only free time the both had. Did they know how to fish? No, and certainly not on ice, but there's a first time for everything.

"Hm... I don't see anyone," Ajax whispered as he looked through a gap in the tent, making sure no one was awake at this hour.

"Hang on, I can't put these on!" [Name] tried to put their boots on, but couldn't make a decent knot. They were already frustrated, tying them any way and untying them when they realized it didn't lead anywhere.

Ajax let out a chuckle, their desperation to put on simple boots was utterly comical, "Let me help you."

"I can do it myself!" [Name] stared at the tangled shoelace with a certain determination, trying to undo what they had tied.

"You said that last week, yet you couldn't do it and we lost the training—"

[Name]'s face heated up in embarrassment. What he said was true, the two of them had missed it, all because they didn't know how to put on the boots offered with the new uniform, and had to clean the weapons as punishment — not that Ajax cared, it seemed he had only focused on admiring the swords and guns rather than cleaning them.

"Shh! That's in the past!" they tried to shut him up.

Ajax shook his head slightly. He knelt down and stared at the blind knot they had tied, taking his hands to the shoelaces to straighten out the mess. "I'll teach you, check it out."

He carefully tied their shoes, making a firm loop. It was just like at home, when he helped his younger siblings put on their boots to play outside. When recalling this, an unconscious smile appeared on Ajax's lips, followed by a giggle.

"Are you laughing at me?" [name] asked, offended.

"No—" Ajax looked up, and then laughed, seeing the funny look they were making. "Yes, I am now!"

[Name] grabbed him by the cheek, hurrying him out of the tent with them. "Stop laughing, they'll wake up and it'll be our doom!"

"All right, all right!" Ajax exclaimed, removing their hand from his sore cheek. "You talk just like my mother when she scolds me..."

[Name] looked at him, smiling before teasing him. "No way, I mean, I pity your mother for having to put up with a son like you."

Ajax's frowned, he really did look offended by what they had said. "I have no idea what you're talking about, I've always been a very well—behaved child!"

"Oh, sure... if you say so, who am I to doubt it?" they agreed sarcastically. There wasn't a shred of confidence in his word.

There were endless minutes of walking and exchanging small insults. Under the moonlight, the two made their way calmly, getting further and further away from the camp. If they were lucky, no one would find out that they had run away.

They would be fishing in a frozen lake, a large mirror that reflected the light of an aurora. It was a breathtaking sight, as if they could touch the sky, and they took a cautious first step onto the it.

"Damn!" They slipped, having only the instinct to hold on to something.

"Whoa! Watch it there, comrade!" Ajax helped them regain their balance, holding them up by the arms. He took slow steps backwards so that [Name] wouldn't slip again.

[Name] smiled a little awkwardly, embarrassed. "Thanks but... This ice won't break with us on it, right?"

Ajax shook his head and firmly tapped his foot on the frozen surface, which remained intact. "It's pretty sturdy, see?"

"I see." [Name] turned their attention upwards and admired the greenish glow again. " Snezhnaya's night sky is a fascinating sight, isn't it? Even though I've seen it several times, I'm always amazed by its beauty..."

Ajax had already seen the real starry sky, the true and uncovered light of the celestial bodies. To refer to this gloomy canvas as a "fascinating sight" is an absurd statement, for it is only an empty imitation of what lies beneath the veil of the Abyss.

"You're really satisfied with anything, huh?" Ajax scoffed, with a hint of a smile on his face, "It's just floating lights, it gets boring after a while."

"Is there anything that doesn't get boring for you?" [Name] watched as Ajax started to cut the ice in a circular pattern, which appeared to be a not too difficult job for him. "Are you sure this works? I mean, it's just ice... I don't know if there's anything alive down there."

Ajax sat, eyes fixed on the hole in front of them. He hugged his knees and remained there, staring at the immensity and waiting for what would happen next. "Don't worry, we'll catch one in... a few minutes, I think."

"In about how many minutes, exactly?"

Ajax looked up thoughtfully. "A few."

"I swear to the archons, if you made us come here for nothing..." [Name] grumbled, watching the boy next to them. The way he insisted on his ideas impressed them, at the same time as it irritates; but seeing that serene face made them let out a little laugh, "Never mind, I'm the idiot one for following you."

[Name] sat down next to him, resting their face in one hand as Ajax and them waited patiently. Those moments of serenity were the complete opposite from the battles that took place everyday.

They had already seen several "comrades" fall, their lives taken while protecting the Fatui's interests. Interests that were unknown and hidden from the vast majority, concealed by individuals whose faces were unknown to many.

The Harbingers themselves were a kind of urban legends who, while everyone knew of their existence, were enigmatic and symbolic figures within the organization.

"What exactly are we fighting for?" [name] asked. There wasn't exactly a reason, because no one ever said the real purpose of the blood shed on the snowy battlefield.

Everyone's admiration and fear of the Harbingers was obvious. But just as they were feared, the kind of people whose presence is everywhere, there were more questions than answers as to their real motivation.

The closest they had seen was the Fifth, Pulcinella. [Name] didn't understand why they had been placed in his division, being a complete fool who couldn't hold a weapon without getting nervous. Even more so when, in the same division, there was Ajax.

A confused expression appeared on Ajax's face when he heard the question. Wasn't the answer obvious? At least, it was logical. "For Her Royal Highness, the Tsaritsa—"

"No, I know that. I'm talking about why we need to fight, the purpose of it all... We have a mission in a few days, and we don't even know what they want from us."

"I fight because I'm strong, isn't that enough?" Ajax seemed genuine in his response, with no hidden ambitions behind the battles he fought against his opponents. At the end of the day, it seemed to be all about the will to get stronger and better.

"No, it's not." [Name]'s gaze was serious, demanding an answer that would satisfy their curiosity. For them, Ajax was an extremely difficult puzzle to solve — a young boy who possessed the strength of a monster. But at the same time, had a heart as pure as gold. "Your name... was inspired by a hero, right? Do you want to be like them, the hero of the story?"

Ajax nodded, giving them a smirk. He remembered the old days, when he wasn't the least bit brave or powerful, just a fearful boy with a sword and a dream. "I think I'd rather be myself. It's much more fun when you do things your own way, don't you agree?"

"Well... it is, it really is." [Name]'s firm gaze softened. "Ajax, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

The boy froze in place. His mouth opened to speak, but the words he wanted to say didn't come out. He had no answer, even if he thought about it — Ajax simply didn't know.

"When I grow up..." he repeated to himself, looking for an answer, any answer. "I honestly don't know... I think I'll end up having to stay in Fatui."

"Idiot..." [name] grumbled, "I'm not saying you can't do what you want, but let's be honest with ourselves for a moment. Who would willingly stay in this hellhole?"

"Me," Ajax answered immediately, without a hint of hesitation in his speech, "If I go back home, I'll only make more trouble. Just the fact that I'm here makes life easier for everyone, and I can improve my skills."

"Of course you'd say that." They shook their heads, completely disapproving of his choice. They got up from where they sat, offering him a glance. "I envy you, you know that?"

"Hm? You..." Ajax looked up and pointed at them, then at himself. "...envy someone like me?"

"How can I not? You're strong, hopeful, stubborn and very proud," [name] listed, raising a finger for each adjective they found to describe him. "How can I not envy someone like you? You're like..."

"Everything I've always dreamed of being like."

They both uttered the same sentence at the same time, their voices becoming a unison sound that gave way to an awkward silence between them. Their eyes seemed to pierce each other, staring into the depths of the souls in search of some understanding.

"Trust me, I know what it's like," Ajax sighed, "to want to be braver, but at the same time to be too afraid of doing so."

Ajax turned his gaze back to the freezing water. Its darkness brought back vague memories of the abyss. The simple act of fishing was enough to push Ajax's mind back to the past, when he listened to his father's stories — maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to be as great as the heroes in them.

Ajax had once been a poor, fearful boy, terrified of the world outside, but with a spirit hungry for adventure. He had only a shortsword and a bag of bread — anyone could say that it was at that moment, before his fall into the confines of Teyvat, that Ajax began his transformation into what he's now.

"It's not a story I tell anyone, but I used to be a real coward," he admitted, letting out a sigh. "If one day you get stronger... like I did, would you duel with me?"

"Of course..." they smiled, making an x with their arms. "Not!"

Ajax's expression fell, replaced by that of an abandoned puppy. "But why?"

[Name] laughed at his face, crossing their arms. "Don't you remember when we first met?"

For them, the events that led to their current situation were clear as day. From before their enlistment, to the first day in the division.

They were born into a humble family, without any kind of comfort or privilege. [Name] grew up hearing all the stories about the archons and their extraordinary feats, about how lucky those who gained visions were. However, they never understood why their family admired such deities when all they received was misery.

Their parents, in a desperate act, borrowed a large amount of money, which they couldn't pay back. Disaster would be the appropriate word to describe what happened when the deadline for repaying these debts passed. As they were unable to pay, the two were killed by the debt collectors.

But [Name] always had somewhat of a way with their words, and that was the weapon they used to survive in a world like this. Somehow, they managed to negotiate their lives, in exchange for serving in the Fatui army instead of paying off an endless quantity of mora.

And shortly afterwards, [Name] were taken to the Cryo nation, landing in the middle of a terrible blizzard. If it hadn't been for the pyro vision they carried in their hands, [Name] wouldn't be alive to tell the tale, having become an ice statue.

And it was in an old and spacious office where [Name] took their first step towards their new reality. Quite nervously, their hands firmly held a document with all the information about their new career, leaving crumpled marks on its edges. [Name] had never thought they'd be offered to properly work, especially when the job was with none other than Fatui.

They were facing a short, stoic Fatui agent with a big nose and glasses. He seemed like a friendly fellow, but [Name] knew better than to trust someone who worked for those who had killed their family.

"What's your name, child?" asked the man in front of them, as he typed on a typewriter.

They had never seen anything like this, a machine that wrote for people? Unthinkable, it seemed magical, even. [Name] was so glued to it that, for a second, they forgot to answer.

"It's... [Name], that's all. I don't have a last name..."

The agent stopped his notes, giving [Name] a skeptical look. It was enough to make them nervous, unconsciously taking a small step backwards, lowering their head.

"Answer me..." The man went back to typing. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, sir. I'm from far away..." they sighed, murmuring, "very, very far...."

"Are you sure you'd like to join Fatui? You're still too young, don't you think it's a big responsibility?"

The agent gave them a gentle smile, different from the look he had given them before. It was as if he was truly giving [Name] a choice — but the truth was, if they didn't accept it, they would probably end up in the same shallow grave as their parents.

"Forgive me, sir, but it's not a question of wanting, it's a question of needing," they replied calmly, "someone has to pay these debts, right? Mora doesn't grow on trees."

[Name] wondered if they had said something wrong, since their tone hadn't exactly been friendly, mentally scolding themselves. But to their surprise, instead of getting scolded, [Name] heard a faint but present chuckle coming from the other person.

"You should thank Her Majesty the Tsaritsa for your kindness," he said, handing them the piece of paper he had been typing on, "how many people do you think have had an opportunity like this, to have their debts absolved and a job guaranteed?"

"Absolved?"

"Exactly, absolved. All we need from you, child, is your loyalty. I can see the potential, but it all depends solely on you." He pointed at their vision, hanging from their waist with a faint shine. "Surely, you're lucky enough to possess one of these."

For anyone else, receiving a vision is a blessing. However, being in possession of one is like having an eternal debt to the world. To be chosen is to be special, and to be special enough to receive a vision is to be distinct from the rest.

Sometimes it became a curse. One can no longer live like a normal person, because there will always be something that sets them apart from the rest. All those who are given one struggle in some way — Has there ever been a vision holder who truly lived an entire life peacefully, without any conflict whatsoever? At least in Snezhnaya, it seemed not.

"I... I accept..." Their eyes filled with hope, looking at their own name perfectly typed on the document. There was the real identity of the gentleman in front of them, revealed in a fancy signature, the Fifth of the Fatui Harbingers, Pulcinella.

[Name] signed their names in the blank space, sealing their fate within the organization. From that moment on, they would be part of the Fatui, just one more in the crowd — But if that was what it took to ensure their survival, [Name] would do it without hesitation.

The real issue, however, was on the first day of duty, and it had a name: Ajax.

[Name] had just put on their uniform, which was a little big for their size. But then again, there were none designed for a fifteen-year-old to wear, so they'd have to be content with what they had on hand.

At least the jacket they were given was comfortable, warm enough to block out some of the bitter cold that surrounded them each second. [Name] even looked like a proper person in it, which made them let out a little laugh.

However, it wasn't until they were standing in line in a meaningful formation that [Name] noticed a boy of a similar age to them. Red curls that stood out against the white backdrop, with a red scarf that was too long for his neck — perhaps they weren't completely alone in that place.

[Name] waited patiently until the time came for them to start training, watching him with eagle eyes, following Ajax wherever he went. When they finally mustered up the courage, they approached him and extended a hand towards him.

"Hello, I'm [Name],"

"Hey!" The boy grinned and shook their hands firmly. "I'm Ajax!"

"Well... looks like we're the same age, huh? How about we train together?" they suggested, thinking it was the best option.

"Sure!" Ajax nodded, putting the sword he was holding aside. "That would be, like... an invitation to battle, right?"

Technically, it was, so they just followed the his reasoning and confirmed it. "Mhm!"

"Then get ready!" he announced, preparing to throw a full punch.

[Name] didn't react immediately, surprised at the speed of the boy who had already set up his punch. "W-WAIT—"

Thud.

Complete darkness was how the first and last friendly match between the two ended, with Ajax knocking them out with a single punch. That's how [Name] would learn that fighting Ajax was a trap. However, [Name] wouldn't lie that at least it had been the best sleep they'd had in months — and the worst black eye they'd ever gotten, too.

"Teyvat to [Name]?" They awoke from their thoughts to see Ajax's hand moving in front of their face. He then tapped them on the forehead. "Is anyone there?"

"Oh, sorry, I got distracted. I was just remembering the punch you gave me." They laughed. "Speaking of which, you also punched that guy the other day too... what's with punching people, redhead?"

"I've already apologized!" His face heated up with embarrassment. "And punching is way more practical. You'd be shocked if you knew how strong a punch from me can really be, when I throw one for real!"

"Hm, sure, no doubt about it—"

"I got one!" Ajax exclaimed, trying to pull the line back on the rod with great difficulty. "A little help would be nice, you know!"

[Name] hurried, wrapping their arms around him and pulling back to bring the fish to the surface. But the animal wouldn't cooperate, even with the effort they made take it out of the water.

Ajax took a step back. "That was fast!"

"Fast? We've been waiting for almost an hour—" They slipped on the ice, pulling him and the fish along with them. In the end, Ajax and [Name] both fell flat, like two idiots.

[Name] looked at him, who was holding the fish in his hands while the animal struggled in them. It was a funny sight, which was enough to get a genuine laugh out of them.

"Haha..." they laughed weakly, then raised their tone, "Hahaha!"

Ajax, hearing the sound of their giggles, bursted into laughter. He laughed so hard that small tears formed in his eyes, "Hahaha... What are we laughing at?"

[Name] pointed at him, "At you, you fool!"

"Oh, really?!" Ajax stood up, bringing the fish in his hands near them. "Let's see who gets the last laugh!"

[Name] got up and ran across the ice, running away from him. They slipped and balanced, with an infectious smile on their faces accompanied by the sweet sound of their laughter, while Ajax chased after them with the animal.

It was moments like this that reminded them that they weren't adults, but two true children at heart.

At least once a week, Ajax and [Name] were sent on missions. They weren't often in charge of the more complicated ones, as they were still too young. However, for the first time, the two of them were allowed to take part in a more risky operation.

The two were supposed to stay with the older ones, but [Name] found themselves alone, having gotten separated from the rest by accident. In the middle of such a large forest, they could only hope that a blizzard wouldn't strike right away.

[Name] analyzed their surroundings, trying to retrace the steps that led them to nowhere and return to where the division had planned to reunite. However, they seemed to go round in circles, never reaching their destination.

That's when they noticed a coat lying in the snow. It was brown, very different from the Fatui soldiers' uniform, with a shabby finishing and a gross smell of blood.

Pow.

That's what they heard, a loud, familiar sound that sent shivers down their spines. Looking up, they saw a bullet hole in the tree, well above their heads — by perhaps two centimeters, they would no longer be alive.

"...!" [Name] instinctively looked for the source of the sound, quickly finding it.

Their desperate eyes met another's, which held no pity. Yet another soldier, wounded, carrying a gun and a tremendous amount of hatred — not everyone liked the Fatui, and not everyone had sympathy just because they were a child.

Frightened, [Name] ran desperately, followed by fierce gunfire that almost hit them. [Name] hid behind a tree and drew out their bow, but couldn't hold it properly no matter how much they tried, since it always slipped from their hands.

The enemy was indeed wounded, but armed and apparently experienced. The look in his face had been enough to send shivers down their spine, because when compared to them, who couldn't even use their vision properly, it was like facing a real monster.

"It'll be all right..." they whispered to themselves. "I just need to—"

[Name] heard more gunshots, too close to where they were. Something told them to run, but also to stay, accept the invitation and have a proper fight. If it was to survive, then [Name] would fight, they needed to.

[Name] couldn't hide forever, it wouldn't be right.

"Come on, you bastard!" [name] shouted, their voice echoing through the woods, as they aimed their bows in the direction of the enemy.

They used their vision and set the arrow ablaze, burning their own fingertips in the process. They didn't know how to control the force with which the arrow burned, but they knew it would hurt anyone who was struck.

[Name] clumsily launched the first arrow, dodging a shower of bullets headed their way. They hoped it was enough, that they had been able to send it flying at his face. But instead, the projectile pierced through his shoulder.

"Damn!" the soldier shouted, trying to reload his weapon while wincing in pain, but his ammunition had run out.

He came up and pistol—whipped them, causing [Name] to cry out in pain for a few seconds. The impact was so intense that they dropped their weapon and fell into the snow.

[Name] then felt the real despair of being weak. They could hear their hearts pounding in their ears and their eyes watering from the pain of the blows they received to the head, while blood trickled down their faces.

They grabbed his foot, applying pyro to their hands to make his boot burn along with it. When he fell, it was then that they saw their chance to stay alive handed to them on a platter.

They reached for the bow that lay on the ground next to them, firmly holding it anyway. Nothing mattered, only survival and that was all — they only needed to survive, to live long enough to prove that they were capable.

It didn't take much for one person to kill another, just despair. That feeling of helplessness and genuine dread, which would move mountains if necessary, was all it took to pull the trigger.

They violently hit the enemy in the face with their own bow, as if it were a bat. It was only when the return attacks stopped that they realized what they had done. The body below had an expression of terror, eyes wide as blood dripped onto the white snow, staining its purity with a crimson shade.

"I—I didn't... I did this...?" They stared at their bloodied hands, feeling their heart beating wildly against their chest. That's when, suddenly, an incessant urge to cough overtook them, but only blood came from their mouth.

[Name] looked down and realized that they had been shot in the chest. The bullet had gone through what seemed to be their lung, they didn't know, the adrenaline was hiding the pain for as long as it took. However, the spot hit was clearly a lethal wound.

They took two clumsy steps backwards, shaking their heads in denial. [Name] was too afraid to do anything like that, taking a life itself was too cruel an act for them, but it was done.

However, they didn't want to die as murderers, not really. So, with determination, [Name] decided they wouldn't die there.

They turned around and ran that time like there was no tomorrow, using every drop of adrenaline they still had in their bodies. [Name] couldn't see the sun shining, only the same gray clouds that covered the sky, which seemed to mock the fact that there was no light at the end.

Their only way out was to get to the camp, where there should be healers waiting for the wounded. However, it was difficult for [Name] to distinguish the landscape around them, especially in such a nervous state.

[Name] tripped over their own foot, losing their balance and rolling painfully down the mountain. They watched life pass before their eyes, each moment painful with the intention of just surviving, not living. Then they closed their eyes tightly, already bracing themselves for a more abrupt impact and accepting certain death.

They hit a tree, before rolling one last time to the bottom of the hill. Fortunately, or not, it was low enough for them not to die on impact — they did wish it had been stronger, ending it all quickly.

[Name] felt like a bird, floating in the sky with their eyes closed. They thought they had died because of the serenity felt for a few seconds, only to be crushed by the cruel reality. Their fall had been gently cushioned by the snow, but even with all this effort, they couldn't see the camp — which meant it had all been in vain.

Finally, the pain returned to their body as if it had never left. Breathing was difficult, with each breath being painful in the extreme, as if their organs were punishing them for still being alive.

"N—No," they sobbed through words, hot tears contrasting with the coldness that cruelly coursed through their veins. "I—I hate it... I wanted to die in peace, not like this... Not like this..."

Their trembling hands squeezed the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. [Name] didn't know how much time they had left, they didn't want to know either, all left to do was pray to Tsaritsa and beg for a little mercy, for a quick death if possible.

[Name] still hadn't paid their debt to Her Majesty, for the life they had been offered. For the bread to eat every day, for the tent they had over their heads, for letting them breathe, for letting them remain in existence, they had to do their utmost to repay all the favors with whatever they could.

For the gratuitously heavy insults that they had to swallow in silence because they were weak; for the mountains and snowstorms that brought them down along the way; for the disgraceful defective vision of theirs — or rather, they were the defective ones.

"P—Please..." [Name] begged the nothing, while holding their vision close to their chest, "if miracles really do exist…”

How many things had [Name] thrown away, when what they wanted most was to prove to everyone that, even if they were weak, they didn't need to prove anything to anyone? [Name] didn't know, only the bitterness of a wasted time remained in their hearts.

They let their tears fall over the flaming orb, whose glow no longer seemed the same. With one last kiss to the gem, a silent thank you, they began to weep for a life they were about to lose.

There would be no one to mourn their death, to lament the defeat of someone who had never once won. They probably wouldn't even have a funeral, but would just be buried somewhere like an animal. How terrible would it be to be completely forgotten, with no soul to remember their existence?

And Ajax, their only friend... finally acknowledged this fact. Would the boy be desolate? Grieve? Or would he carry on as he always seemed to do?

They regretted not having told him things in life that only they could say. They could only hope for the best, that he wouldn't take the news that badly — but at the same time, there was a small, selfish desire for him to feel their death. Not because [Name] wanted him to suffer, but because that way they would know that they mattered to someone.

[Name] recalled the memories they had made with him, like when they first met, when they went ice fishing a few days ago. The image of how they ran and laughed with him that night, as if they weren't the next ones to die, was fresh.

At last, their body felt light, receiving a moment of tranquillity reserved for the end of endings, when [Name] felt nothing but the slow rhythm of their heartbeats, fighting for a lost cause, as if they didn't have two holes in their chests.

"I was truly... useless until the end, wasn't I...?" [Name] murmured what they knew would be their last words, a vent to themselves and to the world. With the last beat of their hearts and the cessation of their breathing, snowflakes touched the now freezing skin. "I hope I have served you well... Your Majesty..."

They died in silence, without disturbing anyone.

Meanwhile, with the mission over, Ajax found himself extremely bored. Contemplating the pure white snow stained with blood as he returned to camp had already become a habit of his.

He could not care less that his face had a few small scratches on it. Though, he had to admit, that any kind of mission made him tired. But before he could rest, he found a place to rest. So Ajax began to look for them throughout the camp, without any success in his search.

'They must be receiving medical care...' He thought, as he made his way towards the tent where the doctors were staying.

It was a small space that was often crowded with the number of people wounded during missions. Finding any specific person was difficult, even more so when he was being pestered to be treated right away because he was younger.

"Are you sure you don't want to go first?" one of the doctors asked, placing a hand on his bruised face.

"No, I'm fine!" Ajax smiled. "I'm just looking for..."

For some reason, his eyes fixed on a particular corner of the tent. Away from the rest, it was where they put the bodies of those who had perished in combat; but Ajax had never taken much notice of it, so why now?

He approached slowly, in silence. Ajax felt an uncharacteristic nervousness come over him, running through his veins. The chills he felt seemed to swallow him up from the inside out, it had been a long time since Ajax had felt like this, as if something was screaming "don't go there, stay here" and attempting to keep him from discovering the truth, as he approached a particular cloth.

He stopped in front of the covered figure, noticing something sticking out of the cloth. An object, a... vision. But the only ones in the entire division who possessed one were him and... [Name].

Terror was too little to describe what overtook Ajax, who hesitated to lift the cloth covering the individual's face. He wished he wouldn't hear his head and believe that they weren't the dead man in front of him.

With trembling hands, which he tried to stop, Ajax lifted the fabric slightly. And that's when the ground really seemed to crumble beneath him — they were dead, [Name] was truly dead.

Their skin was so pale and cold that it scared him a bit. But what particularly caught Ajax's eye was the sheer amount of blood they had lost, as their face and hair were completely stained a deep crimson red; and no one had bothered to close their eyes, devoid of life and its particular glow. Now, they were just a pit of darkness that matched his own.

"..." Ajax just stared, unable to say anything. Everything was trapped inside, without him being able to express it.

Ajax tried to tell himself that he didn't care, that they weren't really friends, just work colleagues. But the sadness in his heart betrayed the stoicism he tried so hard to maintain.

Ajax closed their eyes gently and kissed [Name]'s forehead gently before covering their face with the cloth again. It was an action that any mother would take on seeing her child dead, but they didn't have one to weep over their death — and if there wasn't one, then Ajax would play his part in showing respect for them.

Ajax may even have changed when he fell into the abyss, becoming a maniac for fighting and confusion. But at the end of the day, he was human just like everyone else.

Two days later, the tent they shared was cold, without the heat of the lamp to warm Ajax up, as it had already gone out with the icy wind coming through the gap in the entrance.

It was [Name] who kept them warm in the middle of the night, using their vision to keep the fire burning. And that was just a bitter reminder that they were no longer there.

The others had taken away everything that was theirs, accommodating what would be the belongings of a new tentmate, who would be arriving in a few days. It was as if they had ceased to exist altogether.

Ajax wouldn't mind being hit in the face with a pillow if they were the ones to hit him, with that smile, with that irritating tone of voice of theirs that Ajax recognized from afar. He wouldn't mind being called "redhead" again, if it was them calling him that.

"Ajax?" The voice that called him from outside was familiar to Ajax. It was the Fifth.

Ajax promptly got to his feet, walking outside the tent and greeting him politely, a treatment he reserved only for The Rooster. "I'm here, sir."

"I heard that one of your companions fell in battle... a shame," the Harbinger said, as he searched for something in his pocket. "Well, here it is..."

The man handed him a gray envelope, a letter. In the corner was written in almost illegible handwriting the names of the sender and recipient, respectively: [Name] and Ajax.

"Thank you, sir," he nodded, holding the envelope tightly in his hands.

"You were both very similar ages, you and..." the Rooster paused, having forgotten their name.

"[Name]." It was the first time Ajax had said their names, having called them "comrade" all the time since they'd met. Honestly, it hurt a little, how difficult it was to utter a simple phoneme.

A few minutes later, Ajax said goodbye to the Harbinger and entered the darkness of the tent again. He left out a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever was written inside that envelope.

Ajax could no longer remember what The Rooster had talked about, only that the exchange of words had been short, like all the others before. He didn't even have the mind to think about it now, he could apologize later if he forgot some important information.

But right now, the only thing that mattered to Ajax was [Name]'s letter. He opened the envelope, trying to be careful not to tear it, but in the end he did. Ajax strained his eyes to read what was written there, in a handwriting as bad as theirs.

Dear Ajax,

Should I start a letter with "dear"? I don't know, honestly, I have never written one. Well, if this letter found you, then that means I must be dead by now. I'm sure you're glad I did, as you'll now have the whole tent to yourself.

I've written this because I know that, in life, I might not be able to say what I think. I believe we're already friends, don't you too? That's how I feel about you, I think you're my only friend, and I've been very happy about that. Thank you, thank you very much, for the joyful and humorous moments you've provided me with in this little end of the world that is Snezhnaya.

I asked you the other day if you felt homesick; you may deny it, but I can understand how you feel, away from everyone you love in a place like this. Know that whatever may happen, I believe that the same people you miss feel the same way you do.

Don't listen to that little voice in your head that whispers "you're nothing but trouble", it's stupid. When I look at you, I don't see a troubled boy, but a boy with the heart of another. That day we were late for training, you could just as well have walked away and let me be punished for being late, but you didn't. We cleaned all the weapons by ourselves. We polished all the weapons alone, for hours, and you never complained. Why was that?

I don't know, but I'd like it to stay that way, so keep going! I'll be cheering you on from wherever I am, because you're the best warrior I've ever had the honor of meeting.

I end this letter with my admiration and gratitude to you; and never forget: we have our own time!

With much care,

[Name].

A single tear fell onto the paper, right below their name, accompanied by others that would soon form a hot waterfall in his eyes. Ajax didn't know how to respond to this, covering his face with the paper, as if he was embarrassed to end up being seen like this

Perhaps it was for the better, a reminder that life really wasn't fair, and that Ajax had strayed from the path he was on. He didn't want to care so much, but at the same time he did.

Ajax wanted someone to comfort him, to tell and reassure him that it was all right, that this sort of thing did happen, but at the same time, it didn't. It was hard, very hard, to face it. It was difficult, very difficult, to face the loneliness that he tried so hard to hide behind brute strength.

Anyone who saw him like that would doubt that he was the same person who ravaged the battlefield with his bloodlust, the boy who seemed like an uncontrollable monster with an indomitable spirit, causing trouble wherever he went.

But for one last time, in the darkness of that tent, he allowed himself to be... Vulnerable.

Oneshot -Killing Butterflies

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Ships: Aether x reader ; Childe x reader ; Childe x Zhongli

TW: Aether x reader ; reader x Tartaglia ; Tartaglia x Zhongli (if you squint) ; Major angst ; character death ; hurt no comfort ; Aether loves reader, reader loves Tartaglia, Tartaglia loves Zhongli ; reader dies ; implied death ; gn reader-no gender is given to reader

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This is a whole bucket full of angst so have fun lol. Also, for context i would recommend reading this post of mine. Anyways enjoy reading! (*^▽^*)

Aether couldn't bear to see you like this. To watch you through yourself at him when he no longer loved you. It was pitiful really. How you begged for him to stay. You were attached to him while he moved on. Tartaglia didn't hate you, he simply didn't love you anymore. Tartaglia moved on and fell in love with someone else; his best friend. You couldn't do anything about it but simply accept what had happened. Though you could never move on from him as he had done.  

And so Aether watched as you fell deeper into despair. He tried to lift you up, to show you how much you were loved and that you didn't need Tartaglia to feel loved, that there was someone else who loved you dearly. You were too blinded by your sorrow to notice how Aether thought of you.  

As much as Aether wanted to do more for you he couldn't and so he let himself be a shoulder to cry on for you. Hoping. Praying. That one day you would see how much he cared for you. 

You had been going to Aether nearly every day for about a week just to cry. He was your dearest friend after all.  Until one day you stopped.  

Aether thought you simply needed a bit of space to get over your heartache.  

That was a week ago though. 

It had been two weeks since he last saw you, and he was getting worried.  

He stood outside your home, knocked, telling you it was only him and that he was worried because he hadn't saw you in two weeks. 

Silence 

He knocked again. 

Nothing 

He wasn't fond of entering without your permission but he had to make sure you were alright. He needed to make sure. 

He went to open the door to find it was unlocked already, though it wasn't uncommon for you, it seemed to unnerve him for some reason. Your home was dark, the curtains were all closed and no light was on. The lack of light only made him worry more. You always had light in your home whether from open curtains or candles lit at night so for your house to be so dark in the middle of the day was worrisome. He walked around your house looking for you until he came to your room. 

The door was closed and at first it seemed deadly silent from within your room as it was in the rest of your house. He stood there silently until he heard what sounded like a sob come from within your room. He opened the door to find you curled in on yourself in the corner of the room on your bed.  

"Y/n are you-" 

However you were surrounded by butterflies. 

Red butterflies. 

Blood Red butterflies 

"Aether?" 

He knew what was happening. He had seen this before. A friend from another world had died the exact same way, but he hadn't heard of it happening on Teyvat. He didn’t think it was possible here. He didn't want to believe it.  

"How long has this been going on for y/n?" Aether inquired while walking over to your side. 

"A-about two weeks now," you paused, taking a breath. "Aether do you know what's wrong with me?" 

The look in Aether's eyes told you the answer to your question. It hurt Aether to see you like this, to hear you sound broken. It seemed that at the very least the disease wasn't well known in Teyvat if at all. 

You didn't have much longer. It was obvious with how pale you were and the number of butterflies around you. Most people barely survived a month with the disease. Typically the victim died within three to four weeks of obtaining it. So it was easy to tell you would be dead soon. 

He stayed by your side, tending to you as you slowly grew weaker and couldn't perform simple tasks let alone even walk. The only time he left your side was to inform Tartaglia of your condition and what was going to happen as well as ask Albedo if he knew anything of the disease. 

Aether was told that while it did exist in Teyvat, it was extremely rare. 

The moment Aether got back he was immediately by your side again. 

You died in his arms five days later. 

He laid you down on your bed as the butterflies landed on and around you to rest peacefully alongside with you.  

Aether sat on the ground next to your bed, closing his eyes only to start coughing. He looked at his hand only to be met with flowers. 

Red flowers. 

Blood Red flowers. 

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I've come to realize that while I'm not the biggest fan of reading angst, I sure do love writing it.

NATSUS SWEET 7TEEN + 300 FLWS ♡

hellaur! im holding an event in honor of my 17th birthday <3 it’s been almost a year since i started out and i met so many nice people, i figured i’d celebrate with yall! since im posting this on my nameday hnd to me slayyyy

there are 2 activities to choose from! feel free to join both :)

WOULD YOU LIKE TO .....

♡ GIVE A GIFT ?

here i will give a number a prompts or tropes you can choose from to write a fic and or headcanons, your choice! prompt list credits!

send in an ask about the prompt + character youre going with

the accepted fandoms can be found here

please only take one prompt/trope, unless you’re a mutual

please try to send in the ask until august 5 at the latest

submission time is until august 12 !! ♡

FLUFF

1. “hey, i’m not leaving.”

2. “shh, i’m braiding your hair.”

3. “i think i love you.”

4. “it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyway.”

5. “i’m here, i’m here.”

6. “come back, it’s too cold.”

7. “i can’t sleep without you.”

8. “i just want you to see yourself the way i see you.” [ @toges-wife : inumaki toge ]

9. “you’re safe, i’m safe. we’re okay.”

10. “stop being stubborn and let me look after you.”

ANGST

11. “please don’t make me choose.”

12. “no, not again, please!”

13. “is that seriously what you think of me?”

14. “you told me you loved me.”

15. “please, say something.”

16. “don’t cry- shout at me, hit me, but please don’t cry.”

17. “hey, you need to stay awake. can you do that for me?”

18. “i’m not mad at you. i can’t be.”

19. “i want to go home. please, take me home.”

20. “i’m sorry, alright? i’m sorry.”

♡ OR RECEIVE ONE ?

here you will send me an ask containing your mbti, hobbies, aesthetic, and a character and i’ll make you a moodboard + a couple headcanons!

once again, accepted fandoms are here

mutuals feel free to send in for 2 self ships!

send in the ask until august 10 at the latest :)

i’ll post them all on august 12 ! ^^

i don’t mind new followers joining as long as you’re respectful about it and stick to the submission times! reblogs are highly appreciated!

This was requested by beloved, sweet, lovely, beautiful bestie @enden-k, whom I must thank very much, not only bc they actually allowed me to write more about yandere tarti, but for the constant love and support that he has given me since we have become friends. I can't express how glad I'm that you are in my life, I hope we will stay friends for a long, long time. I'm sorry I'm awful with words lmao but anyway! I hope you all will like this, and once again youn, thank u. U have no idea how important you are to me, love u bestie 💕💕💕💕

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, Yandere, Smut, 18+ (MINORS DON’T INTERACT), Broken English, Obsessed, Toxic Relationship, Dom Character, Implied Kidnapping, Dubcon/Noncon, Failed Attempted at escape, Gender Neutral Reader (no use of pronouns and body parts), A bit needy yandere tarti cause I'm a hoe, Implied Fight, Tarti has a little bruise but nothing much, One mention of blood, Unhinged Tarti, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! ➳ Pair: Childe x Reader (Genshin Impact) Words Count: 464

⤠ Numbers 14, 48 + Barbatos ⤟ Genshin Impact Masterlist ⤠ Numbers 17, 86 +  Mori, Chuuya ⤟

18. “You look so good with my hand around your neck”

“You sweet, sweet cute little lamp…~” he laughs, his entire body over yours, successfully holding you down against the hard, cold floor.

“Trying to run away from me again hm? You even managed to hurt me…” Ajax's hand goes to his face, touching the so small bruise you somehow managed to give him during your failed escape attempt. It already stopped bleeding for a long time, but he looked so proud.

“That’s why I can’t let you go sweetheart! Where else do I find someone like you? You are just so perfect...” he murmurs against your ear, red chocks of hair against your face as you hear Childe twisted laugh, his lips kissing your cheek in a surprisingly gentle touch.

If it weren’t for the red-haired using his whole strength to keep you down, and his hard big cock buried deep inside of you, you would have tried to say something back much to his enjoyment. But Ajax knew your body better than you did, so it was easy for him to make you become a moaning mess under him, no longer needing to hold you down since how desperate you were to touch him, to get more.

“I love you, I love so damn much!” his lips were now all over your face, kissing every possible inch while confessing his eternal love for you, his hips moving at such a fast pace that was making your head spin. Everything around you screamed Ajax; his voice, his scent, his body warm against yours, he was everywhere.

“Don’t ever think about running away again...” Ajax steals your lips with his, kissing you so hard and with so much passion, drinking all your sweet moans. “What will you do without me uh? What will I do without you?”

His glare was so different now; if before was a fighter glare, cold and dark, now it was one who seemed so in love, so desperate, so needy. You both were needy, Ajax needed you, and you needed him, his hands, his cock going deeper inside. You were so close to cumming, you didn’t really listen to what he was saying no more.

Suddenly his hand, which was on your hip holding you still, got to your neck in a tight grip. His hips were moving so slowly now, you whimper in protest trying to get more friction, but it was too late, your orgasm was now fading as you looked up at him, only to get scared by his smirk and cruel, dark glare on his eyes.

“You won’t try to run away again, right?” Ajax chuckles as you get more scared, his dick twitching inside of you in response. “... Mh. I must say... You look so good with my hand around your neck~”

This work belongs to @/alj0saray, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission.

Cant wait :3

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍'

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦 :: a month away from your regular responsibilities and surrounded by hot singles sounds like heaven right now. you've been selected to join the hit reality show love island, and you better pack your bags quick because it's going to be a long, hot summer

𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 :: (love island!au) alhaitham, thoma, wriothesley, kaveh, childe & many many more!

𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗦 :: announced! will commence from june 2024 -> ???

QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this series is literally a ripoff of love island. a love island!au if you will. yes there will be multiple endings depending on who you choose to couple up with in the end. no it is not every male genshin character ever because i am not cracked enough to do that. also if you are familiar with the trashiness of love island, then please keep that in mind with the way i write the characters. sorry if i make your fave sound like a shit person this series is gonna be so unserious ok bye

o. og five girls intro (01/06)

oo. og five guys intro (02/06)

episode one. a new summer of love starts tonight as lady furina welcomes this year's lineup of young singles to the love island villa.

episode two. the arrival of albedo and childe has ruffled a few feathers, and tighnari is jealous as childe takes a fancy to hu tao. later, the group take on their first challenge.

episode three. albedo, ganyu, hu tao, and childe go on their date, and while childe really likes hu tao, ganyu is torn between albedo and ayato. elsewhere, y/n and alhaitham get on well, while jean makes her lack of feelings for xiao clear.

𖤓 tba.

𝜗𝜚 genshin impact masterlist

Can't wait :3

　 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓

a childe x reader series.

⟡ ꒰ synopsis

⤷ when your childhood friend looks at you from across the room during a valentines' festival at your uni – the one person you played with, held the wonders of childhood delight with – what are you supposed to do? confess that you loved him from the start? or keep your silence, staring at him from afar?

⟡ ꒰ genre & warnings

⤷ an sfw childhood friends to lovers with childe, and everything in between. hurt and comfort, some angst. THIS WHOLE SERIES IS INSPIRED BY LAUFEY. university au.

⟡ ꒰ chapters

01. falling behind.

02. dear soulmate.

03. beautiful stranger.

04. valentine.

05. while you were sleeping.

06. lovesick.

07. bewitched.

08. what love will do to you.

09. fragile.

10. promise.

11. second best.

12. let you break my heart again.

13. just like chet.

14. someone new.

15. magnolia

16. dance with you tonight.

17. hi.

18. street by street.

19. best friend.

20. must be love.

21. from the start.

⟡ ꒰ notes

⤷ there will be mentions of physical appearance sometimes but you're free to disregard them and substitute it with your own imagination. this fic is centred around this being yn's first relationship, so there will be times where bad decisions are made, or wrong things are said .. they're learning, and we're learning :') this is a rewrite of my previous series that i never quite started... tropes used: ⟡ childhood friends to lovers ⟡ strangers to lovers ⟡ what are we series playlist

⟡ ꒰ taglist

⤷ @dailypenpen @mccnstruck @ryuryuryuyurboat @tetsuskei ( send ask or comment to be on the taglist! )

– 2024 @xianyoon do not plagiarise, repost, translate or feed any of my works to AI.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated :') &lt;;3