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yandere-daydreams · 9 months

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Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who crash-lands on your balcony in the middle of winter, long after he should've migrated somewhere more hospitable to his animal counterpart. He's badly injured, half-frozen, and clearly in a state of shock, but you manage to drag him inside after a few minutes of struggling and fussing over his massive wings. An emergency vet is called, a small fortune dulled out in exchange for anti-biotics and bandages, but Diluc only wakes up hours after the chaos has blown over, after he's been moved to your bed and most of his blood has been scrubbed out of your carpeting. If you didn't have such a soft spot for birds, you might've been more mad at him.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's surprisingly calm for a man who was on the verge of death less than a day ago. He apologizes for the trouble he's caused you, explains that his injuries came from a 'minor altercation' with his brother and promises that you'll be repaid for everything he's cost you so far, even if you can't say you're sure how a hybrid would have that kind of funding. His composure only falters when he realizes that he won't be able to fly until his wings heal, and even then, he manages to limit his frustration to a thin scowl and a wary sigh. His poise is a relief. He'll be stuck with you for a while, and a temper would've made a bad situation even worse.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who clearly isn't as wild as you initially thought. If anything, your meager apartment seems too a little too modest for his tastes - you're not sure if you've ever heard anyone mention the thread count of your sheets so casually, let alone a hybrid. Still, he adjusts quickly. By the end of his first week with you, you can't stop him from helping around the house. He's a good cook, especially, and he seems to enjoy being able to take some of the stress off of you. You've heard that it's a common trait for hybrids, some universal base instinct to 'provide for a pack'. To be honest, you don't really care. He's nice to have around, even if you know he can't stay forever.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who only ever blushes whenever you tend to his wings. You're not a professional, but you do your best to clear away all of the bent and broken feathers, to replace his bandages as often as the vet recommended, but you're still clumsy, still slow enough to mean he has to spend the better part of the hour sitting between your legs with his wings splayed out in your lap. He tries to keep up a conversation, but he trips over his words, balls his fists, pulls his hindlimbs against his chest and tries to pretend he's unaffected. It's cute, watching a creature as stoic as Diluc lose a few of his reservations.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's too massive to sleep anywhere but your bed. You resign yourself to the couch for a while, but it's not long before you give in to his constant offers to share and end up spending most nights pressed into his side, one of his wings draped over you and an arm loosely wrapped around your waist. You learn quickly that hawks are creatures of routine, which means that you now have a very, very strictly enforced bedtime. He's not afraid to sling you over his shoulder and put you where he wants you to be, and there's only so much you can do to fight against a bird-man twice your height and more than double your strength.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who gets... protective of your apartment, after a few weeks. It's not much - a small frown when you mention a friend he doesn't care for, a certain caginess when you have guests over - but it's far-cry from his normal, gentlemanly behavior. It might just be the instincts of a wounded animal attempting to protect his nest, but still. You worry about him, sometimes.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, whose wings are getting better every day. He's able to make short trips, now, and you make sure to praise him as heavily as you can whenever he comes back from a lap around your apartment complex. You swear, when you're at work or running errands, you'll see a scarlet shape circling miles above you and convince yourself it's Diluc, but he's not the secretive type. You're sure, if he was really that far along, he wouldn't be able to hide it from you. You're sure, if he was really able to fly that well, he wouldn't stay any longer than the time it took to tell you that he was going home.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's cuddled against your chest when you come to, your skin still numb from the windburn and your vision still blurred with tears. You can barely keep yourself awake, barely lift your head, but you can make out a lavish, crimson bedroom; a bed of sheets and pillows that goes on as far as you can see. No, not a bed, a nest. One big enough for a hawk and its mate.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's always been territorial. You just weren't able to see that until after he decided you were a part of that territory, too.

#hybrid au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin imagines #yandere diluc #diluc x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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harmonysanreads · 9 months

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Idée Fixe

yandere!lyney x reader

cw(s) : yandere, lyney

wc : 2.6k+

two dorks psychoanalyze each other. might kiss out of spite.

“For as many hearts as you steal, how many do you keep?”

The smooth texture from designed cards is felt across the tips of your fingers, your eyes capture the patterns printed on them through the filter of silvery moonlight and the sound of steps falling in sync with yours assure you of the verity of this encounter.

You don't even need to look up to picture the twinkling amethysts, the widening curve of lips that never convey anything concrete and a sudden bounce in the magician's steps ; the visage painted in your subconscious like the motifs on the cards your fingers fiddle with in intrigue.

The chilly night breeze are but twirls of playful edge,“You make it sound like something else,”

If you cared to look up, you would've noticed the subtle dance of his brows. Lyney begins to walk a step ahead of you in the midst of his short speech, through prolonged scrutiny that'd rival that of the most skilled jeweler's ; you've associated this change of pace to either be in preparation for his usual trickery — or, in the few sparse occasions that go as soon as they come, a casual introduction of another subject to eliminate the previous one. While one could accuse you of reading too much into things, you've long since learned that when it concerns the eccentric magician, the tell-tale details will reveal what he will not.

“Oh really? Perhaps it's your mind imagining insinuations that do not exist, you do have a creative brain.”

“Ouch, only you could insult and praise me in the same sentence.” Lyney places a hand over his heart to cradle it from the jab, though his choice of words should indicate offense, the delivery makes it clear he wouldn't have it any other way.

“Why, thank you, though you're gravely mistaken if you think that will change the subject.” with a swivel of his cape, Lyney spins to walk facing you, his strides (albeit backwards) unchanging in confidence and only when your lift your head to lock eyes, does his expression lighten.

“Well, to answer your question, the ones that are worth keeping, of course.”

The magician chuckles at your eye-roll, “Don't play coy, you know precisely how I meant that question.”

Lyney hums in pretend contemplation, gaze still fixated on your moonlit form, the beat of both of your steps grazing against the pavement and making it seem like a strange parade. Your question holds substance unknown to the rest of the world, but translucent to the magician.

It is both his frustration and delight that you're never bent by his charming words and theatrics. Your firm stare and insistence on the topic confirm his suspicions that you're searching for something particular, something uprooted from the very depths of his soul and he could bet his entire career that you won't stop until you've wrung it out. The answer you seek is nothing he can't give, it'd be simple as well, but precisely due to this knowledge the magician opts instead to test the limitations of your patience.

Truth be told, Lyney never likes it easy and neither do you.

For a miniscule lapse in the boundless confines of time, it's as though both of your world has separated from the existing one. For an amount that'd otherwise be uncomfortable, all exchange is made through your locked eyes. Like a secret shared between no other soul — despite your better judgement, the realization sends a jolt of thrill through your veins and you cannot help but wonder if the magician feels the same.

Seemingly out of thin air, Lyney twirls his magic wand in a wanton pattern, small sparks of light clash with the moon's glow before waltzing past your hair — you pause for not a second, knowing their goal lies in catching you off-guard. If Lyney was given the chance, he'd spend the rest of the night in determining whether you looking back to the cards in your hands was merely an expression of boredom or a brag of how accustomed you are to his theatrics.

Lyney dabbles between the lines of reality and illusion as a profession, blurring them without his audience's notice to make them believe a miracle. It's a simple trick he's succeeded in transforming into an art, so he was confident you'd be privy to the delusion as well. Whether it's due to you doing the same as him or the opposite entirely, Lyney's persistence in solving the puzzle piece named you only grows more tenacious day-by-day.

Sensing the magician's uncharacteristic quietude, you abandon the cards to his backwards marching form and the cheeky grin plastered on his face has you wishing you hadn't at all.

“Ah, but you see, the information you seek is confidential and I fear for prying ears. How about you come a little closer, and I'll tell you the amount?”

Lyney's face is a perfect replica of the grin-malkin cat he adores using as prop, a cloud obscures the moon's vision from seeing the act down earth and the shimmer of Lyney's eyes become pronounced in contrast to the shadow. In comparison, your visage that'd scream ‘preposterous!’ if it could looks nothing short of a circus.

Your steps come to a halt in unison, a breathy chuckle echoes throughout the dead of the night, “Aw, why that face? I don't bite~”

You blink in surprise and suddenly the magician's presence is way too closer than you recall ; he bows down to your ear and the heat of his breath almost makes a shiver run down your spine.

“... but, I might nibble.”

You catch his impish smirk from the corner of your eye and if Lyney notices how you choke in the formation of words, he could snag an award for acting like he didn't.

“Are you that fixated on creating a scandal? Must you always be so shameless?”

At that, Lyney leans away with a pout, hands folded behind his back and swaying back and forth on the heels of his shoes like a reprimanded child.

“Come on now, don't be such a killjoy. I went through all that trouble to whisk you from that boring party and this is how I'm thanked?”

The magician's words are a drawl, each one competing to be more irritating than the last. You have to take a deep breath and hold your tongue from reminding him that the escapade had been without your choice. The world places limitations on all sorts of things and you're not morbidly curious enough tonight to know the extent of the magician's good graces. A beat of tense silence passes, Lyney takes note of your averted gaze and it positively irks him.

Lack of eye-contact means a number of things ; nervousness, insecurity, hesitancy, guilt. For a performer like him whose pride resides in keeping his audience's eyes hooked on his every move, such a gesture is bitter tasting. But when it concerns you, it pricks and wounds his very soul. Lyney's sigh is one of weight and it inclines you to raise your head.

“By asking how many hearts I keep, you hope to know how many matters to me.”

The magician takes his hat off and moves forward to place it atop your head, his speech is not an assumption, nor an inquiry, but a statement. You straighten your posture when you notice the absence of a smile on his face, the sight so alien it has you on edge. While his gesture may be plain to an inexperienced eye, you know that he does it as an extension of his affection. For all the valued items he keeps dangling by the rim of that hat, he surrenders it all to you in a heartbeat.

But you still hold your breath and as expected, the solemn expression of his proves to be transient. Just before the hat grazes your locks, he tips it back, gives the vacancy of its inside an inspecting look and does an emptying gesture as if to prove its.. well, emptiness. There's a flicker in his eyes you're not given the time to catch as he brings his hat just above your head and does the same depleting motion again ; the scent of fresh roses engulf your senses as a thousand petals cascade down from the hat. As if on cue, the winds pick up and waltz them down upon your form.

Here's the thing ; while you may pride yourself in being experienced in discerning Lyney's tricks, it becomes a task to maintain a straight face as he never repeats his previous sleight of hand. What you can try to do instead is search for patterns, patterns reveal genres and genres reveal intentions. Lyney is a celebrated magician of the Court, his capabilities lie far from simple card tricks, so for him to resort to elementary jugglery instead of some grand spectacle, it can only mean he's trying to distract you yet again.

You feel the weight of his hat on your head at last, shifting all the cards on your left hand, you raise your right to adjust its position slightly.

Your encouragement for him to elaborate comes in the form of confirmation, “That'd be correct,”

The magician's lips curve up in fondness, a playful hum escapes him as you resume your walk, him returning to stride facing you again. It's a skill he's mastered in the duration of your acquaintance, for the purpose of stunts apparently. You have your suspicions — but then again, who doesn't when it concerns Lyney?

“Very well. You accuse me of being such a thief, yet, I think you are the guiltier one between us two.” the errant strands of the magician's hair sway, his eyes keep you captive.

He takes the inquisitive tilt of your head as incentive to conclude, “On the topic of hearts and all, I must ask first, when do you intend to return mine?”

The night winds pause, your brain processes Lyney's question until it blanks upon realization. Your eyes dart across his face that is void of all teasing cues, his eyes glazed over and you can tell he's holding his breath. Any consideration of his behavior aligning with trickery is eliminated just as quickly, because if anyone were to want to understand Lyney as intricately as you, they'd first need to learn to be able to distinguish his flirtation from fact.

“... Do I have to?”

You find yourself half concerned and half entertained as the magician narrowly avoids being hit by a pole, him having to maneuver to regain his footing. Both of your steps come to a halt as your laugh echoes throughout the dead of the night. Lyney sheepishly places a hand on the back of his neck but that sight is all too evanescent. The signature smirk of his returns with enthusiasm.

“Not at all,” he purrs, eyes flickering towards your restless ones that have settled on his magic cards again.

“In fact, mold it to your will, toss it to your whim and hold it captive as though it's a supplement of your own, if you may.”

Your ears hang onto each of Lyney's words but your eyes find no courage to look at the mirth that you're certain is plastered on his face, you take the moment to properly inspect the motifs on the cards with some distraction from the shadows of the night : the grin-malkin cat, a miniature Lyney sticking out his tongue, a tea cup, a penguin and—

You're left stupified as the card is abruptly snatched from your grasp, Lyney bounces back a few steps and confirms to be the culprit. You brisk walk to reach the magician and that turns out to be your biggest mistake.

The card is at first held between two of Lyney's fingers, him shaking it left and right in provocation and in the spur of the moment, you take a leap. You feel the wind of the card being propelled upward, the magician holding it out of your reach. Your desire to obtain the piece of paper exceeds your awareness of the sudden decrease in proximity between you both. You shift to your tiptoes and feel the surface of the card, one look through your peripheral at the magician's smile and you realize a little too late that you've fallen right into his trap.

“Now, let's see, the question that started this all : the number of hearts this magician holds dear is the answer to this riddle—”

You expected Lyney to make the card disappear or shift higher if possible, but instead his hand wraps around yours and you find yourself twirled a full circle. The motion catches you off-guard but the magician stabilizes you by placing a firm hand on your waist and pulling you to his eye-level. You find yourself out-of-breath and unable to look away as the moon shines its light on you two again.

“—Placed above, it makes greater things small. Placed beside, it makes small things greater. ” the magician tilts your chin up in his preferred angle with the card, the cool temperature of its margin contradicting the heat of your skin.

“In matters that count, it always comes first.”

The faint rustle of your garbs against his is resounding, your own reflection stares back through amethyst lenses.

Lyney's voice is but a whisper against your cheek as he concludes, “Where others increase, it keeps all things the same. What is it?”

Your frenzied mind momentarily dreads the scenario wherein someone catches you two in the midst of this rendezvous, from incipiency to this apparent climax ; it's built up to be nothing short of scandalous. But the magician has no care for that outcome, inching closer, closer and closer. As if sensing the new wave of worries that fill your mind, he halts but makes no attempt to lean back, his eyes regain their usual shine.

“Quite easy, don't you think? But, if you believe it to be so, you'll be mislead. After all, that is how the simplest magic bewilders the audience. Blink, and you might miss it.”

The magician dives in and your breath hitches. Your eyes are forced open when you feel yourself stumble forward. The first second is wasted with no action, the second one you register that you have the card in your hand — pressed to your lips, on the third you notice the absence of Lyney's presence and the forth brings down all the embarrassment crashing down on your poor heart.

You pull away the condemned card from your lips, heavens know what anyone would think if they saw you kissing a piece of paper in the middle of nowhere. Your face flushes in the lovely shades of pink, heart hammering against your ribcage.

I could've sworn that I felt...!

The magic card crumbles slightly by the edges because of your grip, the prickle of its corners remind you to take deep breaths and calm your raging thoughts. You shake your head with vigour, but you're unsure if it's to recollect the memory or to brush it off. You're left alone to ruminate the aftermath of the bizarre encounter in the cold winds of midnight and you almost want to drown yourself in the darkest depths of the sea as recollections of your reactions rapidly pass through your mind — you can practically hear Lyney's snickers in your head.

Your attention is then grabbed by the catalyst of your current predicament, you turn over the card and finally inspect the motif printed on the card ; two hearts, bounded by a shackle and a lock. You trace your thumb across the hearts and your mind retraces Lyney's cryptic words. If all interactions, encounters and memories you share with the eccentric magician of Fontaine would form a pinnacle for you to see the truth from ; you'd know that behind the veneer of charisma and humor, Lyney hides something far less innocent. And yet, regardless of the foreboding creeping up your spine, you find yourself unable to snap the tether of connection.

Because as it is, that which is mysterious, captivates us all.

may all lyney wanters be lyney havers<3

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mondaymelon · 5 months

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₊˚ෆ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄! | sagau lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: theme of obsessiveness, yandere (big surprise!!) lyney + wrio's part mentions past abuse, all the stuff that comes as a side to this au !! ngl neuvillette's part is pretty tame he's literally. just a guy (otter)

⤷ [ you, the heavenly being who created celestia itself, has descended upon teyvat in an earthly form. a god, or at least, theirs. ]

— sagau!lyney has always lived to be beheld by the eye.

Displays of extravagance, bouquets of flowers and pairs of white doves fluttering from his finger tips. Yes, that was where he belonged, standing on his place at the center of the stage, bright lights fixed on his form as he swept in his arm in a wide bow towards his beloved audience. Listening to their adoring cheers and drinking it all in - their support, the fame, their fanatic attention.

Attention was always something he had yearned for. Cold days exist in his memory, where he wandered the street aimlessly, pale skin littered with growing purple bruises, his only refuge the light tug of Lynette's soot-stained hands clinging onto what rags he wore. In those times, he remembers, a faint voice from above, angelic and holy, soft and compassionate.

A voice that was, in fact, yours. You had stared with wide eyes at your device as the cutscene began, instantly overcome with emotion. "Lyney, Lynette... was this how you had been living? Goddamn, I know every character in this game has a tragic backstory, but look at them!! They're... they're precious!! Wahhh, I want to take you in... Lyney, you better come home..." They were merely throwaway comments that you had blurted out in the shelter of your room, absolutely fixated on their pretty character designs and the dwindling number of primogems your inventory held. Not only had you lost the 50/50 to Qiqi herself, you were now nearing hard pity, and the charming magician was still nowhere in sight. You shut your eyes "Ah... Lyney, how come you-"

Light flickered before your closed eyelids, and you felt the wind tug at your body. Your stomach lurched, oh shit, were you falling..?

"-won't..."

Someone caught you with ease, swift and capable arms holding you, one supporting your back and the other hefting both your legs. Twinkling purple eyes met yours. "Ah, are you alright?" You quickly shook your head, too shaken to speak words at the moment. Surveying your surroundings only brought another wave of confusion - strange buildings, glittering blue lakes and trees, an unfamiliar landscape... Your gaze shifted, and you caught the sight of uncanny ash blond hair, and the hat that sat atop it. Lyney?

He hummed in acknowledgement. "So, you've just fallen from the sky." There was no way in mistaking his voice. "Is there an explanation behind that, or...?"

"I...I- I don't know why I'm here...!" You stuttered, and he visibly flinched at your voice, eyes widening. Shit, had you done something wrong? You trembled in his arms, attempting to stand by yourself, but he wouldn't let you move from his grasp.

"I see." His voice was quiet, now, and came in a single breath. His pupils shook as he closed his eyes in a smile. "Then, shall I bring you somewhere where you'll be safe?"

His heart was racing, pounding against his chest, and he could hardly breath, instead taking in short, desperate little gasps that did little to keep him standing. You.

It was a voice he swore he'd never let escape his recollection, and now there was a face, and touch to pair it with. He smile widened, and his eyes shined with pure ecstasy. It was you, in the flesh, his archon, his god, the highest being. Your body was holy, and he longed to praise it, his dark heart being cleansed just by bathing in your presence. Yet you seemed so fragile in his arms, how cute... it wouldn't be fair to keep you to himself, but being selfish is what allowed him to get this far. Like a songbird in a cage, he'd trap you, admire you, worship you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you could feel his smile's sweet grow more sickening every beat of silence that passed. "No, What? I-"

His hand struck the back of your neck. Your voice died as your eyes fluttered shut. And in that moment Lyney pressed a kiss to both of your closed lids, a tender touch that one might describe as "loving", but what truly lie beneath it was far more twisted. His heart beat only for you, and red flushed across his cheeks.

"There's no need to worry, my eminence. I'll put on a show, just for your delight." ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!neuvillette has always yearned for warmth.

A warmth is not present in the courts of Fontaine. There, it is cold, sharp, the biting frigidness numbing the hearts of people - those who stand before him in trial, and those who watch with glee in the crowd, awaiting his final verdict with bated breaths.

Neuvillette was most renowned for his judgement. But it was his own that was a critical flaw. For what truly was judgement? Had he been justified in casting a murderer, in some eyes, but a hero in others, into the Fortress of Meropide? A mere child, who just sought for warmth, just as he had? He fears his heart has also grown cold and indifferent to the world, and he despises himself for it.

Was it not your warm hand that stroked him lovingly so back then, a quiet, soothing touch that swept away the tears and the salt that clung to his cheeks? Was it not your voice who called out to him on those ever so lonely nights, humming an otherworldly tune as your ghostly visage wiped the sorrow that flowed his downcast eyes? Yes, truly. It was your warmth that caused his eyes to glow anew, your warmth that allowed his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears to flush with contentment.

"Oh, wise ludex! This man is a murder! He stole not only my mother's assets, but my mother's life!" The crowd gasped at the dramatic declaration, their gazes shifting back and forth, from the perpetrator to the "witness." "I will dearly miss her... this man, no, this monster, took my mother away by hitting her over the head with none other than a bludgeon!"

Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Mr... Lucas."

"Y-Yes, ludex?"

"It was never disclosed to the public of what weapon the killer used."

The crowd erupted into a series of sharp inhales, surprised noises muffled by a hand over the mouth, round eyes as large as dinner plates, and frantic head turning. Journalists scribbled frantically in their notebooks, sweat pouring from their faces as they stumbled upon their newest cash cow.

"The verdict. Mr. Lucas is found to be guilty."

And they cheered. For what? Neuvillette narrowed his eyes just a fraction, his displeasure rising. They knew nothing. They were just mindless puppets, willing themselves to follow the sway of the crowd, praising and applauding something that naught needed its praise.

A sensation came over him, like the soft caress and flutter of an angel's wings or a soft, sweet sigh escaping from pouting, half-opened lips. The man snapped his head up, hearing the glass behind him shatter and plummet downwards like crystal raindrops, but what verily sent his heart apounding was the sight of a figure, dressed in heavenly silks, bathed in golden light, and descending into the courtroom. He drank it all in with a bated breath, hearing that for once, the crowd was silence.

You landed in his arms. Beautiful. He almost didn't dare move with you in his arms, in fear of his legs giving way underneath him. Your head lulled into his chest, eyes shut, and your pure, unbridled warmth finally met him, finally doused him in its prescence.

"Your... your eminence..." His voice was a mere echo, quiet, containing little sound at all. "I..."

"To you who has granted me such the blessing of warmth, I shall repay with all of my heart." ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!wriothesley has always wanted... someone to hold him.

It's a selfish thing to long for, and a silent one. Who would pay any heed to a duke's ramblings? Love's a thought that he's never quite fully digested, almost as if he can't truly believe it exists. Of course, he's seen Fontaine's couples, strolling up and down the street, hand-in-hand, yet questions himself in what makes them able to love each other. Perhaps it wasn't his problem with them, but more so a problem with himself.

Ah, that was it.

His heart already belonged to someone, someone he had heard once and never witnessed again. Like the softest breath of the wind, or a joyful child's laughter, it brushed through his soul and soothed it, held it in its arms, and fussed over his messy hair and bruised skin. At times, Wriothesley wondered if it was all a dream, for only something that angelic, mesmerizing could not stem from reality. However, as young as he was in those years, he cannot deny the fact that in his dark days - it was your mysterious voice that carried him into the life, your presence that gave him the wings to continue living.

Yes, since that day, his every breath, every flutter of his eyes and every pump of blood that rushed anew into his veins from his heart was solely for the purpose of meeting you once more.

Another typical day at the Fortress of Meropide - paperwork strewn all over his once-organized desk, a cooled cup of tea sitting next to where his hand lie, the other furiously writing away on the said paper. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling into his palm as he briefly shut his eyes... only to shoot them back upon in a start as he heard the sound of something crashing against the walls, and the sound of paper, flying everywhere akin to a bird.

There was someone, lying, or rather, sprawled across his desk. Dizzy-eyed and muttering something intelligible, a growing red spot on their forehead gradually becoming increasingly more visible. "How did you get in here?" He's immediately put up his defenses, readying his gloves as he steps over - with quiet remorse - the papers that now blanket the ground.

"...Wh...Where am I?"

That. That voice.

Has he stopped breathing? He can feel all the blood rush to his head, and he can hardly think a single coherent thought, only focusing on the rush in his ears, the shaking of his hands, and the sight of you before him, dressed simply in sleepware and glancing around frantically. Gorgeous. Ethereal. The mere sight of you before him had spurred his heart into an erratic, fanatic pace, beating within his body like he'd die if it slowed down.

"Is... Is something wrong?" He was taken aback at the hand waving over his eyes, before settling back into position, realizing that you had been trying to speak with him for the past half-minute in his zoned-out state. Could you see it? The sin that was clearly displayed in his every breath, in his every inch of being?

"No, nothing's wrong." You seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and while your eyes were still filled with confusion, you tilted your head at his words. How come he was smiling...?

"Ah, then about that question-"

"Home. You're home. And this is where you'll be staying, forever." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) ugh i swear to god i hate every single thing ive ever written for wriothesley he seems so yucky and out of character WJODJKFLJDSMF>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

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taintedbenevolence · 6 months

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Self Aware! AU Wriothesley

warnings! yandere au, self-aware au, obsessive & unhealthy tendencies, mentions of / implied kidnapping, stalking, fontaine archon quest spoilers (?)

a/n - some more yan! wrio because i love him sm <3 also, imbibitor lunae prompt coming soon!

self-aware! wriothesley, who doesn't let you know initially that he's aware of the fact he's in a game, taking the pleasure of observing you through the screen and occasionally making direct eye contact. self-aware! wriothesley, who comes home willingly and quickly the moment you pull for him on his banner, regardless if you wanted him to come home or not. self-aware! wriothesley, whose facial expressions just seem a tad bit more livelier than you'd expect when you return to chat with him for a quest. almost as if he's happy to see you. self-aware! wriothesley, who absolutely adores it when you talk to yourself as you view him through the screen, giving commentary on his character, hearing how you praise and love his design. self-aware! wriothesley, who begins to think of ways to directly communicate with you because he wants your sole attention. self-aware! wriothesley, who begins to crave your attention more than anything and looks forward to every time you have to come meet him in his office in-game. self-aware! wriothesley, who doesn't allow you to leave the fortress of meropide just so you can stay by his side for a few more moments, even going as far as to make additional dialogue options to make you stay put. self-aware! wriothesley, who bugs the code of the game to make it impossible for you to remove him from the party just so he gets to stay with you.

self-aware! wriothesley, who decides to break free from the game the moment you think of trying to report the issue.

self-aware! wriothesley, who manages to escape from the confines of the game and begins to hunt you down, successfully finding you.

self-aware! wriothesley, who thinks about taking you for himself, ultimately deciding against his better judgment and trapping you inside your own apartment. self-aware! wriothesley, who embraces you like you are his very own, holding you like you might just break and disappear if he lets go, not caring how you're utterly terrified in his hold.

self-aware! wriothesley, who'll whisper to you how much he craved you, enthralled and overjoyed now that he finally can call you his and only his.

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cheesecakethots · 7 months

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university playboy childe, who you swear you see more times fighting outside or flirting with anything that has legs than actually in class.

that is, until he’s seated next to you in one of your classes, much to your disappointment. suddenly he wants to learn. his parents pay for his tuition, and are rich enough that whatever he does can be wiped away by the heads of the university. it drives you insane.

he enjoys messing with you, finding the expression on your face utterly delectable whenever he manages to get a rise out of you.

at first, it was only for a dare. you were cute, but extremely nerdy and reserved. him and his friends thought it’d be good for a laugh if he managed to have you opening your legs for him.

he realises he’s in too deep when he starts fantasising about you at night, despite the fact that he hasn’t even seen an inch of your body beneath the clothes you wear. he starts wondering what you’d wear if he took you out on dates, how you’d act, what you’d blush to.

you soon start to become begrudgingly accepting of his presence in your life, and then you actually start to like him, despite the fact that your other friends warn you to steer clear and avoid him.

after enough time, he eventually manages to get you into his bed. you spend a lot of time oooing and aahing at his house before he can get there, but the wait is worth it.

god. he starts to wonder whether he’s in love with you when the deed is done, and you’re lying next to him in bed, fast asleep. he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to sleep with anyone else again, after that. he’s not sure if he wants to let you go so easily.

you’re not next to him when he wakes up in the morning, instead quietly getting changed with the clothes that have been thrown on his floor. he thinks that maybe he should put you in one of his shirts.

his arms wrap around you from behind, and he presses kisses to your neck. you laugh, lazily pushing him off and continuing to put on your clothes.

“why don’t you stay?” he asks, seating himself back on the bed, his head tilting and a lock of messy ginger hair falling over one of his eyes. he grins wolfishly, “i can make it worth your whileeee…”

“you don’t need to do all this.”

his smile falters a little. “hm? do all what, baby?”

you giggle, “and you don’t have to call me that. i know this was only for a dare.”

he stands again, feeling his heart start to pound, “no, no, it’s not, i-“

you raise an eyebrow, “i’m not stupid, ajax.”

he’s lost for words, but you’re not.

“don’t worry, i’m not mad. i mean, i used you so i could stop being a virgin, in all honesty. i didn’t expect anything of it. oh! but if you want to tell your friends that i’m hung up over you, i won’t be mad either. see you around!”

your hand falls on the doorknob, but when you pull it doesn’t open. huh? you glance back at him quizzically. when did he lock it?

“i’m sorry. it was for a dare, but it’s not anymore. i’m in love with you,” he admits, his expression more serious than anything you’ve ever seen of him.

something in his eyes freaks you out, and you laugh awkwardly, “alright, the jokes over, unlock the door, i really have somewhere i need to-“

“no,” he says, moving closer to you, until he’s backed you up against the door, “you’re not leaving.”

your friends were right. you should’ve avoided him, after all.

#tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere ajax #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact x reader #tw kidnapping #tw implied kidnapping

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2-dsimp · 29 days

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Popular choice

—> <Say he was gardening>

—————————————

Current location: [The Park]

—-//———————//———

You’ve decided to guess that he’s gardening! Hidden Admirer! Tighnari was unsatisfied with your answer as a result.

Notice! You guessed incorrectly about his prior business for being at the park so you forfeited the chance to get the reward!

Tighnari has been alerted of somebody nearby and urges for the both of you to head indoors inside his apartment near by that’s oddly isolated from everyone else.

His attention isn’t fully on you and his grasp on your hand is lax. Leaving you with a possible opportunity.

—-//——————//———-

IIV. Tutorial Tip

Trust your intuition

—-//———————//———

Cont. 4th objective: ?¿?

—-//———————//———

—> {Call out to whoever’s out there}

—> <Let him take you to his home>

—> [Attempt running away [Random route]

—> (Attempt to Steal his shovel)

—-//——————//————

Votes end Monday midnight 🕛

—-//——————//————

Player inquiries ✨

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throwaway-yandere · 2 months

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"I Got Reincarnated..." (Yandere SAGAU Otome Isekai!Diluc/Reader) Common Route now available!!!

No need to download! It's a web-based game that should work on mobile too.

The art and overall story are made by yours truly while the OST is created by our beloved @naraven. There are currently 2 CGs and 2 OSTs available, and depending on the reception I might continue beyond the common route since I already have most sprites done <3

This is something I had been pondering about making for a while since my blog has reached it's 2nd year mark so I made this under 3 days. I love you all. Thank you for sticking around. Here's the link to the game. I hope you enjoy it <3.

For context, please read this fic first!

Characters currently present in this short chapter:

Captain Dainsleif, Diluc Ragnvindr, Waitress Alice & Rosaria, Chief Albedo, Prince ???????, Lord Kamisato, and Justice Ajax.

Description:

Greetings, I am Diluc Ragnvindr. Welcome to Southern Gaciea. Unlike the North, East, and the West, the South is a tourist spot for outsiders. It's a closed off country, so outlanders will need to submit their documents to the department of domestic affairs. Perhaps you do not remember, but you've encountered many interesting individuals upon your arrival such as… Captain Dainsleif, the famous Western knight turned retainer for both Prince Lumine and her missing brother, Prince Aether; Lord Kamisato, the Eastern noble who controls Gaciean trade with just a flick of a wrist; Chief Albedo, the Head of Domestic Affairs and Chief Alchemist from unknown origins; Justice Ajax, the unreasonable Northern politician whom I often argue with; …And, of course, Duke Ragnvindr, the Southern Head of Military Affairs. That would be me. It's a shame you no longer remember much of our time together, (Y/n). I assure you, I can make you feel at home in this universe. But— you're not planning to leave South Gaciea soon, are you? ♥

Dev note: pssst, you might get some extra dialogue if you put these as your name (more will be added soon cuz that aint all my moots >:((( i need to code more efficiently smh.)

Shiro, Ven, Navina, Mei, Mochi, Ana

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draconic-desire · 1 month

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A Dance With the Dragon IV — Escape

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III] Part IV — You are here]

After four hundred years, the chance for escape finally presents itself—what will you choose?

Warnings: Yandere behavior, brief mentions of NSFW thoughts and past events, feral dragon Neuvillette

Your opportunity for escape came on a gray and dismal day.

The past week had been particularly grueling for the Chief Justice—or so he had panted into your ear while he pinned you to the bed, skin slick with sweat and his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

You’d initially took it as a thinly veiled excuse for the dragon to lash out, for him to lay claim to you once again, but you soon noticed his focus actually wavering. Just enough for it to slip his mind to tell your Melusine guards (or guides, as Neuvillette would insist) not to bring you to his office for your regular afternoon tea with him. Furina had insisted on his last-minute presence at the meeting between her and certain Snezhnayan diplomats, and his unwavering sense of responsibility to Fontaine prevented him from rejecting the order.

That was how you found yourself sitting alone in his office.

You were quite confused. Neuvillette never skipped tea with you. In fact, as the busiest man in Fontaine, he insisted on it. It was a new development, one he thought might bring the two of you closer and outside of a purely domestic setting.

You’d be grateful for the change of scenery if you didn’t end up bent over his desk half the time.

In the beginning you had fought him on it, but as time in his captivity stretched on you soon realized this was one of the only chances allotted to you beyond your shared abode, especially now that the Opera was off limits. You even got to chat with the Melusines who acted as your sweet, naive guards. They reminded you of Carole and your previous life, a bittersweet memory that you held onto like a fleeting dream.

Now, you couldn’t help but start to fidget in your seat. When one minute became two, and two became five, and five became ten, you couldn’t help the anxious tapping of your nails against his desk. Where was he? Had something happened to him? You knew the Chief Justice would never commit a crime, but the notion of him imprisoned forever in the Fortress or Meropide was one that brought you comfort during your unrequited relationship.

Particularly on nights he would remind you of whose sentence you were under, whose wife and mate you were.

Pushing both hands against the desk, you rose to your feet and stormed towards the door. You wouldn’t sit idly to stew in your own thoughts. You raised a fist, preparing to knock harshly to alert any Melusine or the Iudex himself whose inhuman perspectives misinterpreted this as some sort of sick joke—

Except the slightest force sent the door ajar, presenting you with an empty hallway.

It was unlocked.

You couldn’t help the quickening of your heart rate. It invaded your senses, your hearing, your feeling, until it drowned out all of your thoughts but one.

You could leave.

The absence of any other individual was unheard of. Logically, it didn’t make sense; there should have been a guard if Neuvillette expected to be late, or others working in the main office if they hadn’t been dismissed for break as usual (though you knew it was only to spare them of any ungentlemanly sounds that might be coming from his office after you entered).

It was then you realized: Neuvillette had made a mistake.

You didn’t spare a single glance back as you strode out the doors of the Palais Mermonia and onto the streets of Fontaine.

Navigating your way out of the Court was easier than expected. Although there was no mistaking who you were when Neuvillette dragged you out in public—whom else’s waist would he retain an iron grip on throughout an entire opera if not his loving partner—without him by your side, you appeared like any other resident.

Obtaining Mora for the ferry ride to Sumeru was also a breeze. You had no moral objections to pocketing a few coins from unsuspecting citizens along the docks. Why would you, when you had been serving a lifetime sentence of imprisonment anyway?

The ship wasn’t anything fancy and was mostly filled with traveling salesmen and local fishermen, but after centuries of being doted on and monitored constantly, you savored the feeling of being normal, of feigning the role of a traveling merchant. You truly never thought that pretending to be an average worker would feel so freeing.

Suddenly, the skin of your arm began to crawl, feeling like a thousand pinpricks were digging their claws under your skin. You hissed at the sharp pain, gasping at the brief flash of your draconic tattoo, and then…nothing. You could almost always feel it, but it seems that upon crossing a certain distance the leviathan decided to lie dormant. You thanked Barbados for your luck; in your certainty of escaping, you hadn’t even thought of the physical tie between you and Neuvillette.

As the boat pulled out of the dock, relief washed over you like the serenity after a storm. After months of the Iudex, the supposed upholder of Justice, violating every rule against you, you were finally free.

As you watched Fontaine’s massive cliffs fade into the waves, you briefly mourned your choice to leave your Hydro Vision behind; however, you reasoned that the risk in going back for it and wasting precious time was too great. Not to mention the fact that you were sure you’d never get away with slipping it out of Neuvillette’s grasp, and you certainly didn’t want to squander this chance by running back into his arms. Although you knew the rumors of what happened to bearers who lost their Visions, you were willing to take your chances if it meant securing your freedom.

A sudden splash against your cheek jerked you from your thoughts. Upon looking up, you found the previously azure sky to have darkened. Rain began steadily falling, soon fully soaking your frilly dress (another insistence of Neuvillette’s, that you always wear dresses for teatime…never again!). Thunder rolled across the waters, bringing a taste of pain, anger, and betrayal with it.

Ah, so he’s realized your absence. Good—let him rage. Let him experience the heartbreak of losing what you hold most dear.

Maybe that will serve as his atonement for his sins against you.

You noticed then that, like your draconic captor, you too were crying. Though not of sadness—no, yours were tears of joy.

~*~

Although you had originally planned to journey back to your homeland in the City of Wind—not that you had anyone left there to return to, it was more for your own comfort—you found Sumeru to be to your liking. It was Fontaine’s foil—hot, dry, intellectually driven yet full of untamed wilderness. Full of real, thriving flora and fauna that cold, inorganic meka could never match.

The presence of the Akademiya and Port Ormos even offered you a line to continue your photography and research. Due to the dark room Neuvillette had installed in the library, your skills with a camera hadn’t grown too rusty over the centuries. Now, you finally were able to photograph your true passions again—nature, the water, the animals around you. Their harmony and beauty together, their freedom.

It may seem as if you hadn’t gotten far, but with how vast the Nation of Wisdom was, you felt safe to start anew. For the first time in four hundred years, you felt at home.

Three months had passed since your escape, with no indication that the Iudex was on your trail. After enrolling in the Akademiya (which had required you to change your name, since posing as a four hundred year old would probably not go over well), you even found a group of fellow students that you worked and resided with in the city. You were still careful, of course—you never traveled alone, avoided looking flashy in public, and even altered your look by cutting your hair to suit the arid climate.

That is, until you weren’t.

Your advisor appointed you to join an exclusive research project on the wildlife transition along the Sumeru/Fontaine border. Having experience with Fontaine’s biology, you were the clear candidate. Your initial trepidation almost won out, but you finally conceded at the encouragement of your peers. You’d even be traveling with your advisor and two of your roommates, so you chalked your nerves up to not having set foot in the direction of Fontaine in months. After all, you’d been meaning to explore the desert and its ecology—you just needed to take the plunge and face your fears.

Water was a rarity in the desert, after all.

Which is why, as your party was ascending the final dunes of the Desert of Hadramaveth, you believed the tall, blue-adorned figure approaching was a mirage. A result of dehydration after days of travel in these harsh conditions, a trick of the mind—

“Of all the places you could have escaped to, was it necessary to choose such a dry and barren place as this?” The last part was mumbled under his breath, his tone taking on a low growl, “I cannot help but feel that you bringing me here is some form of an assassination attempt…”

At the sound of his voice, just as deep and commanding as you remembered, your entire being came to a standstill. You despised how you had been conditioned for that tone to send a pangs of trepidation to your core.

Yet despite the Chief Justice’s presence right before you, a part of your brain refused to process it. He was the Hydro dragon, for Archon’s sake. What in all of Teyvat could drag him to the farthest place from the sea?

You, apparently.

At your silence, Neuvillette’s lips tightened. His expression was near unreadable, but you recognized the tumultuous mix of anger and longing storming under that stoic facade.

The other members of your group appeared confused and uneasy. Apparently Neuvillette’s reputation preceded him, even outside of Fontaine, for the common mumbling you picked up on was speculations of his role here.

“Is that the Chief Justice of Fontaine?” a professor whispered to your advisor nervously. “What is he doing here? Surely none of us have offended the court…” Her eyes flickered to you briefly. Due to the nature of the research, it was common knowledge among the group that you were the one with connections to Fontaine.

Said Justice took a step towards you, spurring you to take a larger step back. You knew running wasn’t an option, but you reasoned that he couldn’t just take you clawing and spitting for all your colleagues to witness. No, he would have to convince them of your guilt before he could act.

Well, two could play at that game; you lived with Neuvillette long enough to learn some of his ticks and tells, especially when it came to you. This would be a game of negotiation, a chess match of wits. Neuvillette’s intellect was near unmatched, but if you played your cards right, you could win.

The tide that is Fontaine’s Iudex may one day sweep you under his control, but it is not this day.

“Madame (L/n), by the authority of the Court of Fontaine and the Nation of Justice, I hereby place you under my custody for immediate detainment.”

Or not.

A few of the researchers around you gasped, tittering about your supposed false identity. The professor from earlier backed away from you with a sneer. Looking around, you noted that even your friends were eyeing you warily like some stranger.

All logic left you at the dragon’s announcement. The terror gripping your heart was replaced by blinding, bubbling rage. You would not concede to the man who took everything from you and would take it all again, washing away the life you had built again like a house of sand.

You practically hissed in response. Now this was familiar. “Under what charges?”

Lifting his cane, Neuvillette summoned a levitating tome from which he read, “Multiple accounts of theft, use of a fraudulent identity, desertion in court to be tried for said charges, and emotional damages to the residents of Fontaine affected by your careless and selfish actions.”

You scoffed, your lip curling in a snarl. “And I suppose that last ‘charge’ applies specifically to you?”

The draconic man merely narrowed his piercing purple eyes. Unlike your own, Neuvillette’s demeanor did not falter. He wanted you to lash out, to validate the accusations against you in front of the Sumerian researchers. His objective was solely to retrieve you—quelling your anger would come later.

The day you left Fontaine, Neuvillette had felt a piece of his soul shatter.

He could feel the very moment you crossed the border, when the draconic bond between mates and lovers was severed. It was a guillotine to his head, a rope around his neck, a bullet to his temple. Pain, raw and agonizing, enveloped his very being. The dragon beneath his skin raged, begging Neuvillette to fly to you and sink his claws so deep you could never leave again. The all-consuming panic over your loss, over your safety now that you were outside of his sight, had threatened to rise up and smother him, to drown him and sweep the fractured pieces away until he was nothing.

It had rained for weeks straight, so much so that the citizens of Fontaine brought back the old adage—Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry.

As much as he wanted, needed to find you, the Chief Justice could not simply abandon his post and his people. Going against his very nature, he quelled the dragon and settled on deploying Gardemeks to Sumeru and Liyue to search for you. It had been easy enough to program them with your photo and statement of your status as a fugitive. Surely you couldn’t have gotten any farther than the regions bordering Fontaine, and if so, the mekas would signal your location to him in no time.

So, after weeks on end of the Garde failing to locate you, Neuvillette’s anxiety swelled from a shower to a tempest, a storm of violent wind and flurrying emotion. He found himself in the library he had built you, clawed fingers clutching his face with labored breaths. Black danced across his vision.

Was he not enough for you? Had he not given you anything and everything you could desire? Had he not kept his mate safe?

Why did you abandon me, (Y/n)?

When he had come to, the room was in tatters, the carpet shredded with claw marks and the walls smoldering with blue energy.

Neuvillette decided then that he could not wait any longer.

Tracking you only fueled the dragon. It could sense you, the pull of your tattoo awakening with each step Neuvillette took to close the gap. It was one mate beckoning another, like the pull of the moon on the tide. Your light guided him straight into your path.

And when Neuvillette finally saw your figure, illuminated by the hottest desert sun, he had nearly fallen to his knees and wept in relief. You were so beautiful, yet the look of terror on your face ripped his soul apart all over again. Even now, even here, you wanted to reject him. Could you not see how far he would travel for you, how long his reach would extend just to keep you safe?

In that moment, the dragon roared, and Neuvillette listened.

After seemingly endless hours, days, and months to think about the reasons you left him, he realized that he must have been too lenient with you. He practically was the law in Fontaine, yet he had dismissed your transgressions time and time again, thinking your outbursts were simply a temporary response to your new life with him. Yes, the transition had been sudden and the charges against you quite ridiculous, but he truly believed you would fall for him as he did you.

He would tolerate your backlash no more. No longer would he spoil you with gifts, hoping, praying to every member of the Seven just for you to smile at him. Never again would he sigh in defeat when you spurned his touch, leaving him to fuck his hand to the mere idea of you initiating physical intimacy.

No, just like any other criminal in Fontaine, you would have to be imprisoned until you learned your place—in your case, by his side. And he would be lying if he said the idea of punishing you for your offenses, for leaving him, didn’t cause his cock to twitch in anticipation.

The dragon demanded to be satisfied, and it would have its fill.

“We have numerous reports of you stealing Mora from unsuspecting individuals, as well as the testimony from the ship’s captain that you claimed to be a merchant immigrating to Sumeru. Then, of course, comes the addition consequences for violating the authority of the court by leaving Fontaine. The latter makes you a fugitive.”

“That’s insane! I only had to commit those so-called ‘crimes’ because you—”

“Ah, so you plead guilty.”

You blanched. No, not this again. He was riling you up, making you fumble with your argument like a child, just like your initial confrontation with him in the Opera Epiclese. But that was how he viewed you, wasn’t it? His centuries of experience would always trump your own.

“You know that’s not what I meant—

The sound of your advisor clearing his throat momentarily saved you. “Sir, with all due respect, we do not know whomever this Miss (L/n) you are referring to. This young lady here is Miss (Fake name), and she is one of my finest students. I highly doubt she is the one to have committed these acts.”

Neuvillete’s eyes flashed dangerously towards the researcher. He loomed over your advisor, casting them in shadow. “Shall I arrest you as well for conspiring with a criminal?”

You never thought silence could be so deafening.

The Iudex released a huff. “I didn’t think so.” With a flick of his hand, your wrists became bound together with bands of pure hydro. Your protestations did nothing to deter him as he motioned forward, causing you to be forcibly dragged forwards by an invisible force. You were no stranger to this procedure; Neuvillette had used his powers on you more than once in bed. Now that he had his hydro around you, he held all the authority.

Without the ability to control your movements, you tumbled into Neuvillette’s broad chest. To the others it appeared as if he were securing your bindings, but you shivered as he buried his nose in your hair. Softly, in a voice only meant for you, he sighed, “Oh, how I dreamed of this moment, my darling (Y/n). A valiant effort, to be sure, though your pursuit was always in vain. There is nowhere in all of Teyvat I won’t find you.” His hand ran down the length of your arm, where you knew your draconic tattoo was once more glowing under your tunic. “You are marked as mine, my wife. My mate.”

You jerked your head away despite his scent invading your being. “I will never stop running from you, husband,” you growled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Dissolving into the Primordial Sea is preferable to lifetime with you.”

To your surprise, a low chuckle escaped the Chief Justice’s lips. “I think you’ll soon find that I can be quite persuasive.” He stood to his full height, face reverting to his usually stoicism. “I shall be taking my leave with the prisoner, then. If any of you wish to object to this ruling, you may submit a false claim report to the Court, and I will attend to it personally.”

Glancing around at your peers, those you believed to be your friends and colleagues, you knew that none of them would fight for you. News of your detainment would be spread through the Akademiya, forever tarnishing your reputation. It was over, and Neuvillette had emerged victorious once again.

The Iudex motioned you forward with a tip of his cane and an ominous spark in his eyes. “Come, my beloved. Let us return home.”

#yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact #neuvillette #yandere genshin impact #yandere #dragon neuvillette #escape #Yandere escape #run away #fontaine #sumeru #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere imagines

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fancyfeathers · 3 months

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Diluc’s darling doesn’t go out in public anymore. She used to be seen some nights at the Angel’s Share tavern when Diluc was bartending, sitting at the bar or a nearby table, looking pretty. Diluc would have her dressed in the finest clothes and looking perfect, but now she locks herself up in her and Diluc’s room at the winery. Her hair is tangled and is only washed when Diluc gets home and drags her to the bath to make sure she is taken care of, she only wears a nightgown, what’s the point of getting dressed up if she won’t go anywhere. Why is she like this?

A burn scar, going down her face and onto her neck…

It was from a number of months ago from when she argued with Diluc about letting her roam the winery grounds. It got so heated that Diluc lost his temper and stuck her across the face…

and his heart sank when he realized his vision was activated…

His darling’s screams was the only thing he could process, not the sizzling of flesh, or the smell of smoke. It was the worst when the maids dragged her off to run the burn under cold water and bandage it. He bartended that night, to give them both distance.

When he returned to the winery that night, he saw his darling asleep in their bed, but one half of her face was stained with tears, and the other was hidden away under white bandages. He both wanted to see the damage he caused and didn’t want to at the same time, the best he could do was ask Adaline about the damage. She told him that the scar would never go away and he felt sick at what he had done.

So now when the darling looks in the mirror she wears a constant reminder of her situation, pain. That pain will never go away no matter all the expensive gifts Diluc gets her that only collect dust, nor with the offers of taking her on walks or to the tavern while he works. She doesn’t want people to see her like his, in pain, suffering, a broken and burned shell of who she used to be.

#yandere genshin #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere diluc ragnvindr #yandere diluc x reader #yandere diluc

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chanif-art · 7 months

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Beware of magician...☆

Yandere! Lyney x reader

support me directly -> buymeacoffee

wanna commission? click -> commission

#chanif art #male yandere #art #yandere #my art #fanart #yandere art #yandere lyney #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #lyney x reader #lyney #genshin lyney #genshin impact lyney #fontaine

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yandere-daydreams · 9 months

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Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's introduced to you as the hybrid you'll be taking care. When you found the job listed on some shady, bot-infested site, you figured it was just a temporary gig, that you'd be watching a dog or cat for a few weeks while their owner was away, so imagine your surprise when you pulled up to a reputable mansion a good hour or so out of the city, when an eccentric man with blue hair and an off-putting grin brings you to the lavish enclosure of a hybrid nearly a head taller than you, when you're told that you'll be 'petsitting' his kitten for as long as you care to hold the position. It's weird, but the money's good, and room and board are provided. You can't really afford to turn it down.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's undeniably, unabashedly spoiled. His owner claims that he tried to replicate his natural habitat as closely as possible, but you don't think there's another snow leopard on the planet who prefers mink fur to his own. You spend most of your time waiting on him, running between Pantalone and his legion of personal chefs, holding sapphires and rubies up to the light so he can decide which one he'd rather have studded into his next collar, combing through his thick black hair while he purrs and basks in your attention. It's a surprisingly demanding job, but you don't mind. He's smart for a hybrid, and surprisingly conversational. Honestly, if it wasn't for the thrashing tail that curls around your legs whenever he passes you, the pointed fangs you catch a glimpse of from time to time, you could forget he wasn't human.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who tells you there's been a change in uniform a month after you start. This variation is definitely less conservative than your old scrubs, more in-line with his own blatant aesthetic values, but you don't complain, even when he starts swapping out his crushed velvet pillows for your lap. He's still a hybrid, no matter how human he might act. You're sure he doesn't see your exposed skin as anything but... something warm and soft to rest his head on, when he's looking for someplace to nap.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who grins as he tells you why his owner is always so busy. He's a researcher, he explains, as you file down his claws for the tenth time that week. He studies hybrid mating habits. His tone is enough to make you blush, and he laughs as you stumble over your response. He goes on to talk at length about his owner's particular fascination with snow leopards, how their pickiness when it comes to choosing a partner makes them a point of interest, but you write it off as a lapse in his otherwise perfect etiquette. You manage to do the same when you find out that he's been slipping into your personal room at night, and when he openly sulks in the days leading up to one of your rare vacations. It's not like you have much of a choice, considering none of the other, more legitimate jobs you've applied for have given you so much as a call back. It's not like you have much of a choice, considering how many weeks it's been since you've heard from anyone at all.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's already above you when you woke up strapped to a metal table, your legs spread and your vision dim around the edges.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who smiles as he thrusts into you, his favorite fur coat draped over his shoulders and his expression one of idle amusement. There's a mirror built into one wall (an observational window, obviously), and a heap of silk sheets and fleece piled in a corner, but Pantalone's quick to catch your chin, to draw your attention back to him - to your mate.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's always been so, so spoiled.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's always gotten what he wanted - including his brand new human mate.

#hybrid au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact #pantalone x reader #yandere pantalone #yanderecore #yancore

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allfearstofallto · 3 months

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Sweetheart <3

Yandere! Scaramouche x fem! Reader

Synopsis: You have a strange lover with no name, who you dub sweetheart

Word count: 2.7k

TW: Yandere, obsession, manipulation, stalking

Chimes. That's how you knew he was coming, a noise that could only be coming from him. What sounded like wind chimes in the air would make your ears perk up. The large, lavish hat that he wore to protect him from the sun and the rain, had little bells on them that jingled and sang when he walked.

“A song just for you,” he once said while placing the hat on your head and you giggled with shy, girlish delight. The weight of it was heavier than you'd expected, but it smelled of him. A scent you could bask in.

You called him sweetheart. A name that he rolled his eyes and scoffed at the first time you said it. You told him time and time again that you didn't know his name, nor did he give you something to call him, so you came up with a placeholder, until he decided to open up to you. Sweetheart. You referred to him as sweetheart.

Whether or not he hated the name was debatable. He told you many times that a pet name as soft as that didn't suit someone like him, but he never explained what that meant. He never told you what someone like him was, he never told you anything about himself, not his name, not where he was from, and not even what he did for work. What little he told you about himself, was barely enough to decipher him.

But what you could see was that he was beautiful. He insisted that he hated you incessant compliments, but you could see a meek smile form on his lips after all of your flattering words. Hair that looked like the night sky and skin paler than sand itself. You often compared him to finely crafted statues or even works of art and he would call that nonsense. But you could see the way your words made him glance at himself in the mirror.

He had a tendency of just showing up at your door. You would hear that familiar song of wind chimes and smell citrus in the air and he'd be there. You'd open the door and see him standing there with his arms crossed and his usual frown on his face, an expression that you didn't think suited his soft, delicate features.

“Sweetheart!” You called out to him. His cheeks already flushed from your brazen display of affection and all he did was turn his nose up at you, his way of hiding flustered you were making him.

You wrapped your arms around him, taking in his sweet scent, and begrudgingly, he did the same, “You said you'd write to me,” your voice was a bit sadder now with your face buried in his chest.

His travels took him far, yes, but never once did he send you a letter and he never told you where you could send one to. When he left, it was like he was vanishing into thin air, like a creation of your own mind and when he came back, it was without warning.

“I said I'd try,” he pulled away from the hug and walked into your home like he owned the place, eyeing the small space over as he did every time he visited. It was almost like he was looking for something, or someone, but he knew you lived alone.

You shut and locked the door, trying not to seem disappointed by the way he was acting. At times you questioned if he really liked you. The way he responded towards you was nothing short of disinterest. He turned away from you kisses and stood stiffly in your hugs. Affection from him was a rare gem, but one you cherished.

“I wasn't aware that you liked flowers,” he had stepped into your living room and was staring at a vase filled with a buslte of silk flowers that were sitting near the window. He was rubbing the petals between his fingertips, while waiting for your answer, a disgusted look on his face.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion, “Oh!” You smiled as the change in conversation piqued your interest, very seldom did he mention the decor of your home, “Those were given to me!”

“Given?” He repeated beneath his breath while still rubbing the flower petals, “by whom?”

His face was turned away from you, but you could hear it in his voice. He was angry. The way he was muttering his words, how his shoulders stayed tense, he shook his head a little, even clicked his tongue, all for sure signs that he wasn't happy with what you'd said.

“By…by no one, sweetheart,” you said with a forced, playful chuckle.

He picked the vase up and held it to the light, humming in distaste, “Is that so?”

You nodded quickly.

“If no one gave them to you, we can just get rid of them right?” He didn't wait for your response, just waltzed across the room with ease and dropped the entire vase in the trash, “If you want flowers, I'll bring you some when I come back again.”

When he comes back. You hated when he said those words. They make your heart sink to your stomach. When he came back? Who knew when that would be and it's not like he'd ever tell you where he was going.

“When…when will that be?” You asked hopefully. Every time you asked the questions, you got a response of soon, someday, and whenever I'm near, but never a true answer.

“Must you ask the same things over and over again,” the annoyance in his voice was palpable and he shot a harsh look at you. The thick red eyeliner around his eyes only making his sharp gaze even more menacing.

You liked him. You did. You liked his shy, bashful demeanor. You liked his beauty that could rival that of the finest paintings. And you thought you liked the mystery of him. You thought you did, until you realized how hard it was getting answers from him. Until you realized that with the way things were going, you would truly never know anything about him. Until you realized that even his name, was a luxury you'd probably never receive.

“I just want to know you,” you muttered softly.

“You know enough,” he stepped closer to you until the two of you were face to face. His eyes, those blue orbs that looked deeper than the ocean, were hard to read. A mixture of hesitation, confliction, anger, and a little sorrow.

You couldn't open your mouth to ask what he meant. He was already kissing you. His lips were soft and tasted sweet like fruit, and his kisses were always passionate. His cherry pink lips danced across yours as you slowly began to sink into the kiss.

When it ended, you were left longing. Your eyes stayed closed for a moment too long and only fluttered open after you began to feel his breath against your damp lips. You wanted to say more, but you couldn't. You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know how you could begin a conversation over this.

“Could I at least know your name?” You asked him and you watched his face fall again.

He sighed and pretended to ignore your question, not even bothering to give it the time of day. And that was an answer enough.

Your sweetheart stayed for different amounts of time. Sometimes it was days, sometimes it was weeks, sometimes, it was just a few hours. He let you know when he was leaving, but never told you when he was coming back, and today was the same.

He left you home by giving you another passionate kiss on the lips and a promise to come back before you knew it. You watched the tassels on his hat sway in the wind as he just walked, his form growing farther and farther away until he was just a spec in the distance and then you were all alone again, contemplating what had just happened.

Time waited for no one, and you were included in that statement. When your purple haired sweetheart came to visit, you'd neglect your work as an apothecary to spend time with him. You supposed that's what he was to you. An escape from your mundane life. A mystery you'd never solve, but a passionate one nonetheless.

You gathered all the medicines you made to sell and walked towards the direction of the city. Liyue harbor was bustling, as it always was. Day or night, it was a city that seemed to never sleep. You loved to watch the vibrant way the people moved from your little house on a hilltop, far away from civilization.

It was truly a blessing and a curse. You did grow lonesome out in the mountains, but you had easier access to herbs and flora that normal people wouldn't be able to get their hands on. Plus…being in the city has a way of making your skin crawl.

There was this prickly feeling on the back of your neck that followed you as you walked through the streets and alleyways. A feeling of being watched, of eyes on you somewhere, but you didn't know where. There were people in every direction you turned, all with their own stories and their own lives, going their own way, none of them seemed to focus on you. And yet the feeling never left.

Although you walked alone, you found yourself picking up and listening to the conversations of those around you. Talks of trade and contracts interested you when you had no one to talk to.

But you also heard other whispers. Whispers of things like crime, loan sharks, and most specifically, the Fatui. By the archons above you, you promised to never get yourself involved in any business with the Northland bank. Owned an operated by the Fatui themselves, they gave out deals that seemed too good to be true, and that's because they were.

The harbinger over the bank was one that made you tremble in fear over just the thought of him. You'd never met him in person yourself, but you'd seen him parading through the streets. He has a face that would make girls swoon, but only the ones that didn't know his true intentions.

“The balladeer came through the city again recently,” you heard one lady speak in a hushed whisper.

“The one that wears the fancy hat?”

That's what made you stop in your tracks and you concentrated on that name: The Balladeer? It was one you'd never heard before. You couldn't help, but to stop at the corner, holding your baskest of medicinal herbs close to your chest as you eavesdropped on their conservative out of curiosity of the familiar description.

“Yeah, that's him! He just left a couple days ago,” you felt your heart began to pound a bit quicker now, your mouth going dry. Your sweetheart had left just a mere three days ago.

“Too bad he's Fatui,” she said with with a disheartened sigh, “His face is heavenly, even with that frown he's always wearing.” you could feel yourself gasping for air. It couldn't be him, could it?

But the things lined up, just a little too well. The balladeer left when your sweetheart did, he was also seen wear a fancy hat. The pretty face with the rude expression. It would explain so much.

The secrecy. Why he constantly would leave and travel across Teyvat. His aggression towards you knowing more about him, his lack of a name. All of the pieces of the puzzle clicked together and hit you like a ton of bricks.

You weren't dating some mysterious stranger. You weren't dating “sweetheart”. Your current boyfriend was the balladeer, a Fatui harbinger, and a dangerous one at that from the way the ladies talked about him in hushed whispers.

You bit your lip as you tried to hold back tears. How could you be so stupid? After everything was said, it all made sense and you realized, truly realized the danger you'd put yourself in.

Rushing home, you didn't even sell your medicine for the day. You couldn't bring yourself to stay in the city any longer. Not when you knew that there were Fatui, his subordinates around.

The door to your home was locked and shut tight. The once comforting walls felt like they were closing in on you. The home that you welcomed him to, you let him visit whenever he pleased, you allowed him in with open arms. In this very home, he was lying to you.

A month went by before you saw him again. A month before you heard the chimes, the song that was just for you. A month before you smelt the citrus in the air. All tell tale signs that he was here. He was at your door.

Usually you'd swing that for open and jump into his arms. You kiss him and hug him, you'd drag him into your home and smother him with the affection he pretended to hate. But all you could do was stay as far away from the door as possible, hudded in a corner, you pretended not to know that he was there.

It was gentle at first. The knocking sound. He rarely knocked before, you always knew he was there before he even had the chance to.

“Hey! Open up!” You heard him call, his voice muffled by the wood of the door. Those hurried words of his were followed by more knocking, this time, louder and harder.

“(Y/N)! Open the door!” More loud knocking, enough to shake the house, “Why aren't you answering?!”

You bit your lip to muffle your cries. He was out there. The fatui harbinger. The balladeer. Your sweetheart. He was out there, begging to be let in. It was him, you told yourself, it was your lover. So, why were you so afraid?

The banging turned to the pounding and the pounding made the wood of the door start to splinter. You had slid further back into the corner of your home, covering your mouth to quiet yourself as your tears wet your hand.

Kick after kick after kick, until the door was barely hanging on by the hinges. He could finally see you, through a crack in the door. His face was red with rage, but his eyes were wide with worry and concern.

“I told you to open the door!” He yelled at you, finally kicking away the last piece of wood that kept you from him. His chest was heaving, but he didn't make a move towards you. In his hand, he was holding a bouquet of flowers, so tightly that the paper was crumpled, “Why... why are you hiding from me?”

You didn't answer his question. Looking at the man before you now, it wasn't your sweetheart. It wasn't your lover. It wasn't who you'd come to truly care for after these months. He really was the Balladeer.

You watch his face twist and contort with a mix of emotions. A scowl, a frown, a grimace. Fear and anger flicker across his face so quickly, it's like a blur. But then it settles. It all settles. A single tear down his cheek is the only sign left of sweetheart before his face turns to that neutral expression. That frown that didn't suit his heavenly features.

The flowers were dropped to the ground, wilted and forgotten, and he stepped closer to you, over what remnants of a door you had.

“You know?” He asked in pure disbelief, a pain in his eyes that you couldn't even describe, “You found out?”

Your trembling form wasn't enough to sway him. He was used to being looked at this way by others, but by you, it did hurt a bit more.

“Why didn't you tell me?” you whimpered between sobs. Your pathetic display obviously wasn't enough to melt his frozen heart. He merely kneeled in front of you, unaffected by the way you slinked away from him in fear of what he as a harbinger could do.

“Because I knew you would look at me like this,”

#yandere genshin #genshin #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere x you #scaramouche x reader

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mondaymelon · 6 months

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₊˚ෆ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇 !! | sagau xiao, childe, zhongli x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: uhm. obsessiveness? yandere if you blink a couple times? cult themes... the usual deal with this au

⤷ [ you, the benevolent and kind overseer and creator of teyvat, has descended upon this world in mortal flesh, with a presence that is overpowering, omniscient, and so impossibly pure. ෆ yet, one day, you come into the cathedral with a gash on your arm, dripping with shimmering golden ichor that spilled from your veins. there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring. ]

— sagau!xiao noticed you immediately. it would be hard not to. since the beginning, he had always heard it.

your sound. a beautiful one, a heavenly one. a chord struck him, somewhere in his chest, and he found himself panting on the ground, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

like a electric charge - one that leaves you startled, tentative, with the tips of your fingers still tingling from what happened moments prior. a buzz in your veins that thrums along with your heartbeat.

he didn't deserve to see you. not with what sins he had committed. but xiao was selfish. he wanted to, with his tainted body, he wanted to praise you, scrape his throat raw with his voice.

and so he did.

his face brightens as you step into the cathedral, dressed in ceremonial robes as per usual. you look ethereal, why would you not? your eyes are warm as they fixate on him, and he can feel his heart skip a beat and words die in his throat. he kneels before you orderly, readying to lift his head when something catches his attention - that is, the coppery scent of blood.

blood?

a droplet splatters onto the dustless floor. melted gold.

xiao's already stood up before he realizes it. his eyes are blown wide, his shrunken pupils sharp, like a cat's. "who. who did this to you?" those words take all the willpower in him to speak. his mind is swirling, racing, thinking up of every single possibility, vision scattered and blurry as unbridled fury teems within him.

"it's nothing. some civilians have begun rioting in the city, saying that i'm an imposter. all i did was show them a little bit of my blood and they all started singing praises, so the issue has been resolved." you shake your head with a soft smile, like this matter isn't anything to concern himself over.

it is.

he hates it. how he feels so fucking powerless, how he couldn't even stop this simple event from occurring in the first place. it's his fault. it's his and everyone else who dared not believe your words. your word is the truth. it is the undeniable laws of the world, what maps the stars and what lays the land.

he'll have time to ingrain that within everyone's minds. even if it means time away from you. but that's not the issue at the moment. he turns to search for bandages, but sees the already-healing wound slowly closing up as your skin mends together.

there's a knife at your side, coated in something that shimmers in the rays of light coming from the high, color-tainted windows.

something in his heart decides, seeing your reserved smile.

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

very well.

then he'll just have to eradicate every last one of them. ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!childe had, to be honest, never cared all that much. why would he, to the person who had abandoned him into the cold, dark, abyss? yet, the smile on your face. it's bright. so bright it burns him. was there a day where he could smile like that?

no, no. he couldn't. that's an expression only reserved for someone as beautiful as you. as pure as you, like a blank, unblemished canvas, with the world as its paint. it's a level of resplendency that no one on this cursed universe could ever hope to accomplish.

a god in flesh, living in a tainted world. a walking contradiction that he had grown to call the thing that allowed him to keep living. something that spurred irony, you who broke all forms of the logic he had made to keep himself sane. perhaps that was why the heart he'd locked away has suddenly begun aching again? is that why he feels so warm from your divine prescence?

"childe?" you call out his name into the vast, empty hallways, glancing around for the familiar sight of a tuft of ginger hair. he hears you at once, rushing to your side with a grin on his face.

"your grace??" he bows at the sight of you, unable -to contain his excitement as he quivers in place, the smile on his lips tugging upwards even more than its current extent. "yes, what's-"

he stops abruptly, his voice faltering as he catches the scent of something iron. one familiar on the battlefield, a liquid that'd paint the surroundings a beautiful red.

his heart pounds. the thrill of a battle? no, that can't be it. if that was the case, how come it felt like he was slowly suffocating on his unspoken words?

that's when he catches the sight of the poorly wrapped bandages encasing your forearms. and the shimmering ichor that's soaked through the hastily wrapped cloth.

he moves to grab your arm, but curses himself out as he quickly changes direction and tightly holds your wrist, his expression more pained than yours, despite you being the one suffering with the injury. "what... your grace, what is this?"

he hates your knowing smile. he hates it. (oh, but does he? could he hate anything that is of you?) it just reminds him how you're all too far for him to reach, a purity that he does nothing to maintain. "there was a riot in the city against the church. luckily, they all quieted down after i gave them a glimpse of..." you trail off, ending your incomplete sentence with a sheepish smile. the rest is self-explanatory, anyway.

his vision trembles as his pupils shake. "haha, you...?" fuck. fuck fuck fuck, just whose idea was it to allow you near a knife? how did you get your hands on that?? which stupid fucking bumbling idiot allowed for this to happen?

it's his fault. he should've been by your side. curse the fatui, curse them all, how could they possibly dare keep him away from your holy being? the guilt that churns within him, is that why he remains mute as you step away, gracefully walking to meet with the other retainers?

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

no, it's fine.

it will all be fine.

cutting off their tongues won't be enough. cutting them up until they're a dismembered, bloody mess isn't even close to what you've suffered for the sake of humanity.

yes, he'll make them realize that. they'll pay with their blood a thousand times over. ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!zhongli had his breath taken away by you before he even saw you, before the two of you had even exchanged words. your presence - it was so simply alluring, a saccharide charm that just drew him closer and closer.

sweet. yes, it was a familiar flavor upon the tongue that had long since tasted the many marvels the world had to offer. like a warm cup of tea, made from the sugary extract of flowers, how the sensation of it seemed to bloom upon your mouth.

ah, how should he put this. perhaps you had procured the blossom in his heart instead? stems, leaves, buds, a floret that'd only appear when you were in his gaze. a steady thrum that ran throughout his body with every stolen glimpse he took from your attention expertly.

perhaps, was this what he felt all those years ago?

did it matter? his soul was resolute, now, and it glowed gold, just like the blessed blood that flowed through every vein and lay in every vessel within that beautiful, beautiful you.

yes, ichor... just like the splatter of it on the ground...? a pang of fear strikes him - has something happened to you while he was away? he should've none better than to trust those good-for-nothing other cultists, who spend all their time babbling about your gloriousness yet turn a blind eye to whenever you require assistance!

no, he had to calm himself down. this wasn't the moment where he should grow frustrated. first, he must confirm the situation... he's planned this out to the every plan b, c, d, e, and so on, so how come he's still feeling so anxious?

there you are, upon your throne, busy conversing with a fellow archon, the one as free as the wind. funnily enough, you were the one that tied him down like a shackle.

"ah, zhongli. are you alright? you're breathing quite hard." you tilt your head, averting your gaze from venti's sparkling eyes and instead fixing them on the usually stoic man's jumbled expression. his shoulder's heave as he resists the urge to collapse at your feet.

"what... what are you... you're hurt?" stained bandages peek out from just below your silk sleeve, a sight that cannot possibly be missed from his attentive gilded eyes. "why didn't you tell me? i-i'll call one of the healers so they can-"

"zhongli, there's no need for that." with a hand, you gently signal venti to leave the scene, which he does, with obvious reluctance. a silence gesture that resonates with appreciation deeply within him. "this was of my own accord."

"your own accord?"

"unbelievers decided to throw a riot, and there wasn't much i could do except...well, don't they say that seeing is believing?" how come you don't look the slightest bit pain? where is your self-pity? your frustration? "anyhow, i'm not in a good state. please leave me for the time being, i don't plan on receiving any more audiences tonight."

he bows hastily, yet each movement is still finely crafted with minuscule adjustments that have taken him thousands of tries to master. he does as you say, and his strides are quick and long. it won't take a genius to see that his facade has crumpled, with the clear agitation that's spreading across his features like a wildfire that devours all in its path.

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

he'll change that. every thrum of the golden markings running up and down his body seem to pulse in unison with his heartbeat, which is raring like he's recently returned from the battlefield.

who would've thought he'd so quickly return.

this time, of his own will. he'd be sure that these fools of this world would learn the truth of your paragon. ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) please save me the delulu has returned and iTS NOT LETTING GO

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

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moonsaver · 27 days

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Yandere!Idol!Alhaitham has been on my mind for SO long oh my goodness.........

Idol!Alhaitham, who's spotted laughing for the first time you attend those fanmeetings, and crack the stupidest joke ever. Fancams all around the room caught that moment, and it's gotten wildly famous within the fandom.

Idol!Alhaitham who mentions to have taken a "liking" to someone in all the interviews after that one fanmeeting. The fandom is quick to connect the dots, and everything's up in a rage at the mere mention of that one fancam. Alhaitham isn't oblivious to their reactions.

Idol!Alhaitham, who, somehow, manages to find details about you, your purchases of their merch, and somehow manages to always pull a few strings to make you the winner of any giveaways you join that are hosted by their company. It's almost laughably easy for him.

Idol!Alhaitham, who deep down hates it when he realizes he's not your favorite within the group. Your eyes are on another member on the stage. Your likes are of another member's fancam. You repost another member's clips and moments. Most of the merch you own of his is just bonus you get along with the actual merch you wanted to buy. He's not having it.

Idol!Alhaitham who tracks down your socials, and takes a note of all the clothing brands you own, your aesthetics, your hobbies, and makes it a point to include it into his photos. You couldn't have known an idol as famous as him would even buy from the same niche clothing brand as you, right? Maybe your eyes are just tricking you..

Idol!Alhaitham, who you've started spotting more and more frequently around your area. More of their concerts are being held in your area, and it gives him the perfect excuse to stage a chance encounter with you, as if he hadn't been stalking you for the past couple of weeks beforehand. He pulls you along to private and hidden spaces with a convenient excuse to "not get caught". You're not sure if that was his intention, because he keeps pulling you along to more and more shady areas, with lesser and lesser people. It's already late, and it's surprising that he has more time than you. Isn't his schedule supposed to be packed?

Idol!Alhaitham, who becomes more active in songwriting after that "chance encounter". And it's evident most of them are intensely romantic in nature, eerily mentioning details about you not even most of your friends would have known, in passing adlibs. The fandom's picked up on it, but they've yet to pick up on the fact that it's you he's writing about.

Idol!Alhaitham, who's now shamelessly convincing the public that he's in a relationship with someone, that someone supposed to be you. It becomes so widespread within the fandom that it becomes hard to back out now. If you refuse, or even try, an anonymous account may leak your information, and it won't be soon before you recieve death threats,stalkers,or something even worse. It's better to go along with what he says, isn't it? He knows just what to say.

Idol!Alhaitham, that collects your photos instead. He has every single one of them pinned with respective dates, in a hidden drawer of his room, where not a single employee can find it to take it away. You realize how wrong things have gone when you start receiving copies of these photos with an abundance of his merch from giveaways you hadn't even joined.

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iicheeze · 1 year

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Genshin sagau except god reader is more open about their feelings to aranaras

random thought I had since sometimes I talk to my dolls about how I feel tbh

Imagine we're just venting about our problems 💀 ESPECIALLY IN THE IMPOSTOR AU

“ I don't know, I just feel like it's too much.. ” “ Aren't Naras supposed to know Creator is Nara [Name]? ”

Or you crying your ass out and they just look at you like this

They'd probably tell stories about Festival Utsava or the impact you did when you descended to Teyvat in hopes they can comfort you

Or them making a soft fluffy big flower so you can relaxingly sleep on it

or maybe them singing to you or giving you their cookings

or when you're just talking about someone lovingly they just

“ Give flowers to Nara [favorite character]! ” “ And delicious cookings too! ” “ Ararycan will accompany Creator so no feeling nervous anymore! ”

Aranara best hype man 💪😈

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau brainrot #yandere genshin cult au #genshin cult au #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin x female reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin impact x female reader #yandere genshin impact x male reader #yanderecore #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #aranara

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cheesecakethots · 7 months

Text

Part 2

Your mother had described meeting her soulmate, your father, as the most influential moment of her entire life, despite the fact it had been so ordinary.

They had simply been passing each other in a busy marketplace, and happened to brush hands. The static and pull they both felt only meant one thing, and the rest was history.

Your siblings met their soulmates before you, your older brother even having met his as a young child. Maybe that’s why you were chosen, and not them. Maybe that’s why they didn’t fight for you, after all.

The village you live in had a harsh winter, with no crops being able to grow and people starting to freeze to death in their own homes. You had known the village leaders were the superstitious type, but you almost scoffed aloud when they declared the hardships faced must’ve been the work of a vengeful spirit or yokai.

You had been woken up when some of them dragged you out of bed, still in your flimsy old nightgown that did nothing to protect you from the frosty bite to the wind. Your father didn’t intervene, didn’t cry, didn’t do anything as he watched them carry you away. Your mother had broken into sobs when you screamed at her to save you, but still did nothing. Your siblings didn’t even bother to leave their rooms to watch you be hauled off like some livestock on route to a chopping block.

The woods were long and hard to traverse, but it wasn’t long before they had taken you to the centre, using old and frayed rope to tie you by the waist to a thick tree trunk. They didn’t turn back when leaving, didn’t so much as spare you a glance while you screamed and screamed and screamed.

You stopped after ten minutes, instead allowing yourself to cry silently, hoping that you would wake up soon with your parents ready to comfort you, your siblings waiting to laugh off your silly nightmare. No such thing happened.

It’s been about half an hour now. Maybe less. Maybe more. You’re certain at this point that no hungry spirit is going to find you, and instead you’re going to die a slow, cold death, all alone. Well, maybe not slow.

You don’t hear the soft crunches of snow in front of you, too busy staring at your own feet that are starting to go blue.

“Hm, what do we have here?”

Your eyes glance up. For a second you believe that you’re hallucinating, taking note of the clearly wealthy man in a large hat before you, as well as the men in armour situated behind him.

The man raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

Mouth opening and closing, you attempt to splutter out something, but what comes out is a shaky, unsure breath.

He scoffs, moving closer, “Speak up, will you? Or is your throat frozen?”

A cough leaves you, your throat feeling scratchy and dry, but you spit something out nonetheless.

“Th-They l-l-left me h-here,” you stammer, your voice shaking and teeth chattering wildly. Every breath you take feels as though the ropes around your torso are tightening and tightening.

“Who left you here?” He asks, despite the fact that he sounds rather uninterested.

“Th-The village. M-My fa-family. They left me h-here to die,” you whisper, and you’re surprised by the bitterness you somehow have the strength left to conjure. You look up at him, tears still streaming down your face, “H-How cou-could they throw me a-away like that?”

Something in his expression shifts, and he takes another step towards you, head tilting to the side as he considers something.

“Why did they leave you here, then?”

“Sa-Sacrifice to a yokai. T-They thought it w-would s-stop the wi-winter and help the cr-crops grow.”

He chuckles, but there seems to be little amusement in his tone. “How ridiculous.”

You cough again, your body shivering all the more. You’re going to die soon, you know it.

“What would you offer me if I were to save you?”

Hope doesn’t crawl into your veins at his words, instead a dry sob leaves you, “I have n-nothing left to give. Nothing.”

“Not even your gratitude?”

His eyes meet yours once again, and you can’t help but note how very pretty they are, despite the fact you’re on the verge of death.

“I-If you save m-me, I’ll forever be indebted to you.”

“Hm. It’ll have to do.”

The ropes holding you up fall before you can even realise what’s happened, and in turn so do you, landing on your hands and knees, your body quaking violently.

“Up. Otherwise you’ll freeze to death here. Stand up.”

But you can’t. Any apologies you have die on your tongue when he tuts, kneeling in front of you.

He reaches a hand out to roughly pull you up by the wrist, “Archons, I have to do everything aroun-“

His grip on you leaves as fast as it came, and he stumbles back on his feet a little, watching as you peer up at him, eyes wide.

You don’t have much time to consider the consequences of what has just happened, as your body finally gives way, and you collapse into the snow in front of your soulmate.

#will do a part 2 at some point probably #for that one anon that asked me to write for him #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scara #tw close death #tw near death #scaramouche x y/n

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