From One Glance | childe x reader |

introduction

There are Scaramona mentions for the plot but not much, if you don't like it then please don't read this. Thank you.

You, are a character was driven by an insatiable greed, an unchangeable trait that led you to commit heinous acts in pursuit of personal gain. Despite the cruel deeds you did, you managed to evade justice, always careful to cover your tracks. Even murder was no obstacle; the authorities attributed your victims' deaths to "natural causes." You found pleasure in avoiding capture, but lately, the thrill had diminished. That is, until an intriguing figure entered your guild.

But before delving into that, let's set the stage with a bit of backstory, shall we?

Snezhnaya was never a welcoming home, yet it raised you. Your father hailed from there, while your mother hailed from Inazuma, an intriguing blend of backgrounds. Odder still was your upbringing in Liyue, under the care of a man with piercing golden eyes. In your youth, your father's overwhelming debts sealed your parents' fate, leaving you orphaned and burdened with a thirst for vengeance.

Fast forward to the present, where a prince with azure eyes sits at his desk, brooding. Despite the warmth of Snezhnaya's climate, he feels a chill, particularly from his mother's constant pressure to wed. The courtship game is tiresome; most suitors aim for power rather than genuine affection, their advances ranging from flirtatious to downright provocative. Despite his efforts to repel them, they persist, aggravating his frustration.

A gentle knock interrupts his thoughts. "Enter," he calls, and a maid obeys, relaying an order from the Tsaritsa herself.

The formality unsettles him; he's never grown accustomed to such deference since joining the Fatui. Nevertheless, he complies with the summons, bracing himself for the Tsaritsa's imposing presence.

The audience with the Tsaritsa is as chilling as expected. Her demeanor lacks warmth, her very presence suffocating. Her maids bow in reverence, their eyes averted. Even Tartaglia, the youngest of the Fatui, bows in obeisance or perhaps fear.

"Any progress on finding a suitable bride?" the Tsaritsa inquires, her tone impatient. "None yet, Your Majesty," Tartaglia admits. "My duties have kept me occupied indoors." He said averting his eyes.

"Six months should suffice," the Tsaritsa asserts firmly. "A prince needs an heir to continue his line." Indeed, Tartaglia lacks a betrothed. His volatile nature and penchant for violence have deterred potential suitors, rendering his search fruitless.

"Your Majesty's generosity is appreciated. I shall  fulfill your request," Tartaglia replies, suppressing a sigh.  Though inwardly, he doubts his chances.

Dismissed, he retreats to the training grounds, seeking solace in familiar routines. There, he encounters Scaramouche, his fellow Fatui, and perhaps a confidant. Even if it hurts his ego, it wouldn't hurt much to ask a friend for dating advice. Besides, a murderer and an astrologist is an interesting pair. 

"Hey Scara, mind knowing what your tricks are?" He asked him with a teasing voice as he grabs a sword from a rack. He initiates movement to spar with Scaramouche, to relieve stress. 

Scaramouche furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance right when Tartaglia made his presence known by being loud with how he handles his sword. "Tricks?" He asked confused, "I never do tricks, that sounds pathetic." He scoffed. Tartaglia knew he was right, Scaramouche never did tricks, he said it was inconvenient. He was too straightforward with his action that it might become his weapon itself. 

"How'd you persuade Mona into becoming your.." Tartaglia asked him without continuing his sentence, saying the word fiancé, or anything that relates to the word love and relationships sounds foreign and leave him cringing in distaste. 

"Pfft—did Her Majesty pressed you to find someone?" Scaramouche said with a sly smile. Tartaglia huffed in return, already feeling that he will regret his decision in confiding in him. 

Scaramouche knows immediately, even when Tartaglia doesn't say anything. The walls have ears after all. "It wasn't anything special, I just saw her in a crowded village doing her astrology services for money." He paused, "I decided to try it out, but then we ended up having an argument about whether the sky is false or not." He chuckled to himself at the memory, "And when she saw my fate, her face looked pale like her blood had been sucked dry. And at that moment I knew, I had to have her before anyone does." 

"In any case, we grow even closer to each other, I tried to forget her about my fate by having arguments with her. Coincidentally, the Tsaritsa also wanted me to have someone by my side at that time— just like you now." As Scaramouche explained, Tartaglia noticed that shiny glint on Scaramouche's ring finger, a sign that he is bound to someone else. The way he talks about his first encounter about Mona so endearingly made Tartaglia unconsciously smile. 

"— In any case, here we are now, engaged." Scaramouche finally finishes, leaving Tartaglia with a mix of envy and uncertainty. 

"Really now, that quick?" Tartaglia deadpans, he doubts that he could even be that quick. Scaramouche was lucky enough that Mona was able to click with him directly. Somehow deep down, Scaramouche's story wasn't able to help him after all, he thought as he shakes his head seemingly already giving up before he even started. 

Meanwhile, in your world, a chance encounter with Diluc Ragnvindr thrusts you into a moral conflict. His demand for a clandestine assassination rattles you, tempting you with the promise of immense riches. Yet, your conscience resists at the action of slaying a prince, regardless of the payout.

"What?!" You exclaimed, "Even as a skilled assassin, we wouldn't want to mess in the castle!" You stressed. 

Diluc didn't even flinch at your outburst, he seems used to this type of reaction. 

However, Diluc's relentless persuasion, backed by a mountain of mora, tests your resolve. In the end, you guiltily obeyed, driven by a mixture of fear and greed. Even so, you knew in your heart, you were excited since you haven't feel the thrill in a long time. 

"But Sir, just what do you get from this?" You asked curiously realizing that the Palace doesn't really have a strong connection with House Ragnvindr in the first place— or rather, information are kept hidden from the public. 

Diluc let out a grunt, "He— no the Fatui was the one who arranged the death of my father, and they did even worse to the people living on my land." he answered, "All I wanted from this is to erase the the Tsaritsa's bloodline, and the Fatui one and for all." He paused, "And the first step is, to kill the Crown Prince first." 

You nodded nervously, as you reluctantly accept his commission, a flicker of sympathy for his vengeful motives tugs at your heart.

"Very well, I'll make the contract now." Using an ink and a thick paper you write the terms of the contract as well as writing your name on it. Passing the paper to him, he signs 'Diluc Ragnvindr'. Now, you're bonded by contract until it's done.