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The air was heavy with an unsettling silence, punctuated only by the faint, menacing creak of frozen ice spreading its dark tendrils through the room like skeletal fingers. The shadows seemed to writhe and twist on the walls, as if alive and feeding off the fear that permeated the space. One of the Fatui Harbingers, Tartaglia, knelt before the throne, his head hung low in a gesture of abject submission. His mouth was sealed, not a whisper escaping his lips, as he awaited the Tsaritsa's command.
The Queen sat regally on her throne, her icy fingers steepled against her chin as she gazed down at Tartaglia with eyes as cold as the grave. Her beauty was a thing of terror, a mask of elegance that hid depths of cruelty and malice. The silence stretched out, each passing moment weighing heavier on Tartaglia's shoulders, until finally, her voice cut through the stillness like a blade.
"Escort my child, y/n, to attend the Lantern rite in Liyue, and depart today with her." she commanded, her tone dripping with an unspoken menace. The words seemed to carry an undertone of warning, a subtle reminder that disobedience would not be tolerated.
Tartaglia's response was immediate and devoid of emotion. "As you wish, Your Majesty," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his head still bowed in submission. The words were laced with a formal tone, but beneath the surface, a hint of fear lurked, a fear that was quickly suppressed.
As Tartaglia rose from his knees, the ice beneath him seemed to groan in protest, the sound echoing through the chamber like the whispers of the damned. He backed away from the throne, his eyes never daring to meet the Tsaritsa's, before turning to exit the throne room. The heavy doors creaked shut behind him, enveloping him in the dark, oppressive atmosphere of the palace.
As Tartaglia stepped into the dark and foreboding alleyway, the chill of the night seemed to seep into his bones. His footsteps echoed off the walls as he made his way to the room, the soft glow of lanterns casting eerie shadows on the ground. He reached the door, his knuckles rapping gently against the wood, the sound a stark contrast to the turmoil that likely brewed within.
The door creaked open, and Tartaglia's voice was low and measured as he announced his presence. "I'm here as your escort, as per Her Majesty's request." The words hung in the air, met with an unsettling silence.
As he entered the room, a putrid stench assaulted his senses, like the metallic tang of rusty iron mixed with the coppery scent of blood. The air was heavy with the weight of death, and Tartaglia's gaze swept the room, taking in the carnage.
Two maids lay lifeless on the floor, their bodies bathed in their own blood, their eyes frozen in a permanent stare of terror. The room was in disarray, furniture overturned, and blood splattered across the walls like a macabre art piece.
And then, his eyes landed on her. The woman he was meant to escort stood in the center of the room, her white nightwear stained crimson, a grotesque contrast to the innocence the garment once implied. In her hand, she held a glowing red string, its end tied to the neck of a figure suspended in the air. The figure's eyes bulged, their face purpling as they struggled for breath.
As she turned to face Tartaglia, a smile played on her lips, but it was a cold, calculated gesture that didn't reach her eyes. Her gaze was a void, a window to a soul consumed by darkness. Tartaglia's expression remained impassive, his emotions locked away behind a mask of duty.
"I'm here as your escort, as per Her Majesty's request," he repeated, his voice devoid of emotion.
The woman's smile grew, her eyes glinting with a manic energy. "Right! We shall depart today! I'm too excited to attend Liyue's Lantern Rite this year!" Her voice was a jarring contrast to the horror that surrounded them, and with a flick of her wrist, she released the red string.
The figure crashed to the floor, their body hitting the ground with a sickening thud. The sound echoed through the room, a grim reminder of the life that had just been extinguished. Tartaglia's gaze never wavered, his eyes fixed on the woman as she turned to him, her smile still plastered on her face.
"We should get going, after I clean myself." she said, her voice light, almost playful, as if they were discussing a trivial matter rather than the grotesque scene that lay before them. Tartaglia bowed, his movements economical, his face a mask of obedience. "As you wish, milady."
______
You walked alongside Tartaglia, the snow crunching beneath your feet like brittle bones. The cold air bit at your skin, but you barely noticed, your mind consumed by the darkness that lurked within. Your thin dress seemed to mock the chill, and Tartaglia's gaze never wavered, his eyes fixed on yours as you laughed and chatted about your trip to Natlan.
The Fatui parted like specters as you approached the port, their eyes cast downward in reverence. You smiled, your lips curling upward in a gesture that seemed almost...human. But your eyes told a different story, a story of madness and depravity that lurked beneath the surface.
As you sat in your cabin, Tartaglia across from you, the cicin mage approached, her hands shaking as she poured the tea. The liquid splashed against the cup, and she let out a terrified gasp as she knelt, her voice a desperate whisper.
"Please, milady, spare my life! I didn't mean to—"
Your smile never wavered, and your eyes closed . You calmly took a sip from your cup as you continued your conversation with Tartaglia. The mage, emboldened by your silence, slowly stood, her eyes fixed on the floor.
But her reprieve was short-lived. A string of red, glowing energy erupted from your index finger, wrapping around the mage's body like a shroud of death. The mage's eyes bulged as she realized her fate, her voice silenced by the constricting strings. With a flick of your wrist, the mage's body exploded, blood splattering everywhere.
Tartaglia and you were now bathed in the mage's blood, but neither of you seemed to notice. You continued your conversation, your voices calm and detached, as if discussing the most mundane of topics.
They way he remained calm everytime he witnesses you doing gruesome habits of yours. You like it, you want to keep him.
You reached out, holding Tartaglia's bloody cheeks in your hands. "Ajax, do you despise me for whatever I do? Am I disgusting?" Your voice was laced with a hint of curiosity, your eyes sparkling with a sinister light.
Tartaglia's worn-out blue eyes , stared back at you, his cheeks flushing red. He leaned into your touch, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're someone I want to be with, my ladyship. Whatever you desire to do, I'll clean it up for you."
You smiled, your face a twisted mask of blood and excitement. You wanted to keep him, to bind him to you forever. And as you stared into his eyes, you knew that you would do just that, no matter the cost.
The cabin seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you, bound by a twisted dance of desire and devotion. The blood-soaked walls seemed to whisper secrets, secrets of a bond forged in the depths of depravity and bloodlust. And you knew that you would never let him go, that he would be yours forever, a pawn in your twisted game of horror and desire.
As the moon cast its silvery glow over the city of Liyue, the vibrant festival erupted into a cacophony of sounds and colors, a stark contrast to the darkness that lurked within the hearts of those who dwelled there. You walked alongside Tartaglia, the smell of exotic delicacies wafting through the air, but your senses were dulled, your mind consumed by a growing sense of unease.
The stalls seemed to blur together, a kaleidoscope of lights and sounds that only served to heighten your anxiety. Tartaglia, oblivious to your growing unease, continued to indulge your every whim, his wallet dwindling with each purchase. But his eyes never left yours, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that seemed to pierce the very soul.
And then, a voice called out his codename, Childe. He turned, his gaze locking onto the female blonde traveler and her flying companion. They chattered animatedly, oblivious to your presence behind him. You felt a spark of anger ignite within you, a flame that seemed to grow with each passing moment.
As Lumine grabbed Tartaglia's hand, dragging him away from you, you felt a sense of detachment, as if you were watching the scene unfold from afar. You didn't move, didn't react, as Tartaglia reached back for you, his hand lingering in the air.
And then, you were alone, standing still in the midst of the crowded festival. Your gaze shifted, fixing on the lanterns soaring through the night sky. The colors seemed to bleed together, forming a kaleidoscope of hues that seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy.
You vanished into thin air, reappearing in front of the Fatui quarters, the darkness seeming to coalesce around you like a shroud. Glowing red strings appeared in your hand, crafting into a fine sword that seemed to hum with an otherworldly power.
The quarters were a charnel house, the air thick with the stench of death. You plunged into the fray, slaughtering the Fatui with a ferocity that didn't seem human. The sound of screams and clashing steel echoed through the corridors, a symphony of terror that seemed to fuel your rage.
The door creaked open, and Tartaglia stood before you, his face slick with sweat as if he ran just to get here in time. He knelt in the pool of blood, his hands grasping for your legs, his head bowed in supplication. "Forgive me for leaving you behind, my ladyship. I'll accept any punishment you want me to take."
You stared at him, your eyes empty of emotion. And then, suddenly the blonde traveler appeared in the doorway, her gaze taking in the carnage. She drew her sword, her eyes flashing with determination.
You crouched, meeting Tartaglia's level, your sinister grin twisting your face. Your bloody hand leaned on his cheek, staining it red, but he didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned into your touch, his cheeks flushing with desire.
You whispered something in his ear, your voice like a snake slithering through the grass. Tartaglia's eyes turned cold and bloodlust, his gaze locking onto the blonde traveler. He summoned his hydro spear, and the two clashed in a flurry of steel and water.
The sound of clashing steel echoed through the corridors, a deadly dance that seemed to mesmerize you. Your eyes never left the combatants, watching every move they made. And then, the blonde traveler fell, her short dress dyed in red as Tartaglia's hydro spear pierced through her chest.
Tartaglia approached you, his face alight with joy as he saw you with arms open wide awaiting for him. letting him wrap his arms around you, holding you close. The strings of fate seemed to stir, engulfing you both in a vortex of red energy.
You teleported, disappearing into the night, leaving the carnage behind. The darkness seemed to swallow you whole, and you felt a sense of freedom, of release. You were a force of nature, unstoppable and unrelenting. And Tartaglia was yours, bound to you by ties of blood and desire. Together, you would dance in the darkness, a macabre waltz of death and destruction.