Yandere Genshin X Reader - Blog Posts

istg this was something sweet and cute but my mind is fuck up

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Bad English, Babytrapping, AFAB Reader (one use of feminine words such as "mama" and body parts?), Pregnancy, Yandere, Toxic Relationship, Stomach Bulge, Noncon/Dubcon?, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! Please if you like my work don't forget to reblog/interact with me♡ Minors, ageless, blank blogs, and silent readers will get blocked if interact with me.

Yandere Diluc who baby trapped you. You wanted to leave, or at least have a break, since the relationship just wasn't working as it used to. Diluc was too paranoid, too protective, and too focused on his work to actually pay attention to you.

Of course, he noticed the change in your demeanor; how you acted more silent and cold toward him. Of course, he noticed. When he doesn't. It's not like you can leave so easily: you no longer worked and stayed inside his house all the time, and he made sure his maids and butler helped you out with everything you might need, but also keep you under constant watch since he can't always be around you.

However, Diluc can't help but wonder if it is enough to keep you with him. That maybe, maybe, he should do something else to make sure that you could never run away from me, that will make you, even more, dependent on him. He thought about it for days until he came to the "right" conclusion...

A child.

With a child, even if you somehow manage to escape, you will be forever linked to him. He wouldn't need to worry about you escaping him for at least 9 months, but he will constantly worry about your health and the baby. Oh, that cute, adorable baby you are going to give birth to... One that looks like you, running around the house asking for their mama and papa... So cute...

Diluc cannot wait until he gets you pregnant; he makes sure to be there for you, be present, and be less cold for days, weeks maybe, until he's with you in bed once again, spilling his seed deep inside of you again and again, until there is a small budge on stomach...

Until one day you come back to him shaking, tears almost falling from your eyes, saying you have to tell him something very important and Diluc can almost tell where this conversation is going...

This work belongs to @/alj0saray, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡

Confessed to Capitano but was rejected. Captain states that he has the duty to fulfill Tsaritsa's wishes, and that he has never had any special feelings for you, and even advises you to focus on your career and life. You're lost and sad, drinking vodka with Tartaglia and crying on his shoulder...

Uh-oh, the captain saw it. He felt very jealous and irritated…

A Dance With the Dragon I — The Tides Beckon

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

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

The last thing you expected was to have caught the eye of Fontaine’s Chief Justice. You have no choice but to be swept into the dragon’s dance.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, possessive behavior, forced imprisonment, unrequited relationship

It all started with your realization that Fontaine has some rather intriguing laws.

For as long as you could recall, you had aspired to become a marine biologist. Though you hailed from Mondstadt, you forged your curiosity in the tide pools and lakes around the edges of the region. You scoured over any novel you could find on marine ecology and animal behavior, spending endless hours lost in the Knights of Favonius library. On your thirteenth birthday, your parents bought you a Kamera, which launched your career in wildlife photography and research. You even went on to publish a book cataloguing pictures of your nation’s aquatic life. It came to no one’s surprise, then, when you were gifted with a hydro vision.

Although you loved your life in Mondstadt, the vast waters that surrounded the Land of Hydro beckoned you like the pull of a tide. So, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you parted with your family and homeland, traversing across Teyvat and experiencing its many wonders. You relished in the culture and cuisine in Liyue and marveled at the natural architecture of Sumeru’s forests. Yet nothing would ever be as breathtaking as your first glimpse at Fontaine, at the granite peaks rising above the crystalline waters teeming with life of all forms.

You had secured employment with a group researching the sudden uptick in seal strandings across the nation, taking you across Fontaine’s many beaches. Your main base was located near Romaritime Harbor, which prompted you to spend your lunch breaks exploring the Court of Fontaine.

You made quick friends with the Melusines, some of whom were still a bit nervous being around humans; however, you found their stories of the ocean fascinating and often invited them to join you for lunches or strolls through the city.

One in particular, Carole, had become your close friend after you encountered her being pelted with rocks by a mob of Fontainians. You didn’t hesitate to use your vision to immobilize the rocks and create a barrier around Carole, quickly ushering her to safety. You couldn’t comprehend the prejudices directed towards her and the other Melusines, but after that incident, you made sure to keep an eye out for all of your little friends.

One day, on one of your walks, you ran into said Melusine. She seemed despondent that only a handful of citizens were interested in her hand painted posters, so you decided to treat her to lunch and pastries to cheer her up. That’s when you first caught wind of the Hydro Dragon.

“Well, if you’re worried about the seals, you might call upon the Hydro Sovereign himself!” Carole chirped.

You tipped your head curiously, lowering the cup in your hands onto the cafe table. “Don’t you mean herself? Although I’ve never met the Hydro Archon, I’ve heard others refer to her as ‘Lady’ Furina.”

Carole shook her hands back and forth in front of her. “Oh, no, I mean the Hydro Dragon! He is responsible for keeping watch over Fontaine, which includes all of its resources and residents. I’ve heard that with every sea creature that passes, the heavens open and the dragon sheds his tears in mourning.” She took a bite of her croissant. “I have a feeling he’d be willing to help.”

You tapped your chin in thought. “You don’t say. Well, we are in a bit of a drought, which could be contributing to the beachings… Perhaps I’ll ask this Hydro Sovereign for his favor.”

On the days you were dispatched to Fontaine’s eastern beaches, you opted to sit by the Fountain of Lucine to wish for the Hydro Dragon’s help. It had become a tradition for you to do so ever since your conversation with Carole, for you swore that every time you prayed to his name, rain would grace the shores the next day.

During those research trips, your coworkers would invite you to attend trials at the Opera Epiclese, though you politely declined each time. You had no particular interest in the Opera and were much more inclined to spending your time outside and uninvolved with the court’s theatrics. Besides, you considered yourself to be a model citizen, so the proceedings of the court were beyond your worries.

Or so you thought.

~*~

The incident that led to your arrest was the violation of the order “no domestic pets shall be named after Furina”. Apparently the otter that paddled around the Harbor each morning was undignified of the title of “Focalotter”. You had thought the name quite clever and humorous—that is, until a horde of Gardes surrounded you during your shift one afternoon.

You were detained and led into the Opera immediately, which was where you currently found yourself. You frowned at the relatively large crowd—which, much to your dismay, included most of your coworkers—dispersed throughout the hall. Had they all come just to spectate your trial? Standing alone on the isolated balcony, you felt like an insect under a magnifying glass, an insignificant pest to be probed at for entertainment.

“And how do you plead?”

The deep, commanding voice above you wrenched you from your thoughts. Turning your eyes up, your (e/c) orbs were met with a penetrating gaze.

Pinning you with his lavender and silver eyes from atop his chair at the center of the court was none other than the Chief Justice of Fontaine, the Iudex himself, the face of the law in the Court. Monsieur Neuvillette.

This wasn’t your first interaction with the man.

Shortly your move to Fontaine, you had stumbled across his path. At first, it was just sightings from afar; he would be leaving the Opera, or purchasing a drink (Wait, is he paying for water?) from your favorite cafe. Your favorite flowers also began to appear at your doorstep, each time with a brief, cryptic note, usually something along the lines of To my little pearl —Sincerely, your guardian dragon. You didn’t think anything of it; if anything, it confirmed that your prayers to the Hydro Sovereign had been heard.

Then, however, Neuvillette began to periodically show up around your research stations, claiming to be investigating a court case. Even though the Iudex’s public appearances were supposedly rare, none of your coworkers, yourself included, thought to question his authority, answering his inquiries regarding the base’s activities to the best of your abilities.

You noticed that he tended to speak to you the most, even asking personal inquiries like your favorite drinks, foods, books, and hobbies, and about your marine photography especially. It must be part of the investigation, you rationalized. He was nothing but gentlemanly and always kept conversations curt and to the point, offering you a gentle smile as he departed.

If only you knew the true extent of his desires.

~*~

Naturally, he first caught wind of you from the Melusines. As his closest advisor, Carole regularly joined him for afternoon tea, and though he was not one for idle talk, the manner in which his friend spoke of you sparked his intrigue.

“And when those meanies were throwing rocks at me, (Y/n) was the only one who intervened! If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened…” Carole rubbed her head, as if remembering the sharp pain.

Neuvillette placed a hand over his heart. “I am eternally grateful for her presence. I cannot stand the thought of any harm befalling you.” The hydro dragon looked out the window of his study to the ocean, deep in thought. “Perhaps you could introduce me. It appears I have much to thank her for.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Carole raised a finger. “She mentioned lots of seal beachings recently, so I suggested that requesting rain from a certain dragon could assist her work!”

Neuvillette nodded, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, so that is why I’ve been hearing Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon echoing throughout my mind the past few weeks. You have quite the imagination, my friend.”

Carole shrugged playfully. “Hasn’t it been raining more often lately? Seems like her prayers worked!”

That they had, as Neuvillette could attest to.

The first time he heard your soft voice calling to him, he had sent rain the following morning—not for you, but for the seals. His position barred him from forming close relationships with humans, so the notion of attending to your inquiry face-to-face was eliminated immediately.

But when you returned again and again to implore for rain, he couldn’t deny his interest. The day after Carole informed him that his little supplicant and Carole’s hero were one in the same, he knew he had to meet you. He had actually left the Opera to see you for himself; whether he would actually converse with you was still uncertain, but your voice tickled an itch that he needed to scratched.

Neuvillette was an experienced and composed man, but setting his sights on you for the first time stole his breath. This, he thought, must be what it feels like to drown.

Your smile shone brighter than a Beryl conch, and your scent floated around him, sweeter than any marcotte. The light shimmering from the hydro vision on your hip reflected back in your eyes, giving them the appearance of twin pools of blue. You were sitting on a bench by the Fountain, a Kamera in hand as you gestured excitedly towards the screen. To your right was a Melusine he knew well, Kiara, who was clearly enraptured with the technology.

Though he knew of your kindness towards the Melusines—jumping in to save Carole alone was grounds for a medal of peace—seeing it before him sent the waters around his heart roiling. The Iudex was moved by the fact that, despite being a foreigner to Fontaine’s customs, you treated them with the utmost respect, going out of your way to befriend and include them in your daily life. Many citizens of Fontaine still harbored prejudice against the Melusines, but you… You even used she/her pronouns when referring to them, implementing the very law that he set forth.

“I use this for my research on seal behavior and conservation,” you explained to Kiara. “Having pictures of each individual helps us identify them in the future. We even give them silly names sometimes. See this one here? We call him Mr. Sealie, and this otter I like to call…”

When the pink Melusine started giggling over the nickname of your otter, a plan formed in his mind.

Whether attributable to his sense of justice or his draconic instincts, he knew one thing for certain. Like a shining pearl, you must be cherished and protected—and who better to serve than the Hydro Sovereign?

~*~

Those eyes will be my downfall.

Purple and silver locked with (e/c). Despite being newly appointed to the court, Neuvillette was the embodiment of both poise and intimidation. The very air around him seemed to shimmer with power and unyielding authority. His breathtaking eyes swirled with emotions—was that desire or disinterest?—you could not even begin to decipher in your current position.

Archons, help me.

You cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t appear too nervous in front of the judge. “Although I admit to using a version of the Hydro Archon’s name when referring to that otter, I was unaware of such a law against doing so. I’m not originally from Fontaine, so some of its, uh…lesser discussed laws are new to me.”

Neuvillette gazed around the courtroom as the crowd devoured the trial before them. It was baffling how naive humans could be sometimes; of course there was no rule against applying a silly nickname to a pet.

That is, until this morning when he had signed it into law.

Seeing you frightened and alone in the defendant’s box, however, was torture. It took all of his willpower to not to engulf you in his strong arms like waves around sand. But he had to maintain the facade of immovable judicator for a bit longer in order to mold you to his tide. Retaining his mask of composure, Neuvillette continued, “You do realize that previous defendants have been jailed for far less, correct?”

Frustration and fear flared within you. “But I—”

“Desecration of Lady Furina’s name is of the highest offense. Your behavior will not be excused, neither by myself nor the Oratrice.” Neuvillette raised the paper with your verdict, barely glancing over the words before he spoke. “The verdict stands: you, (Y/n) (L/n), are guilty.”

You clenched your fists heatedly. There was no arguing with the Iudex. Clearly, the polite and considerate version of Neuvillette that you had encountered earlier was an anomaly, for the figure looming above you was the complete opposite. Cold, calculating. Distant. A whirlpool cresting a bottomless sea.

Had this been his plan all along? Had you been the subject of his investigation? But why?

“However, because you are not from Fontaine, I will offer you a choice.”

You blinked up at the Justice, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. A choice? What choice did you truly have here? You pursed your lips warily but nodded for him to continue.

Neuvillete raised a gloved finger. “The first: you will serve a life sentence in the Fortress of Meropide.”

A wave of despair seared your insides like a brand. That was your fate? To be trapped beneath the region where you had always longed to live, never to feel the salty wind on your face or hear the calls of seals and gulls again? Surely, the second option was less cruel?

“Or, alternatively: you will dedicate your life to the court. You will abide by its laws without question and with unwavering commitment. You will relinquish your freedom; you will not be permitted to leave Fontaine and will be bound to this place for eternity.”

A choked sob escaped your lips. No matter what you chose, your life’s work and passion would be extinguished. You would be forced to either become an actress in the court’s performance or resign your soul to a watery grave.

Both option chained you to the Region of Hydro forever.

But one option at least granted you a semblance of freedom—a notion that you soon learned was as transitory as a bubble in water.

The crack of a cane against wood resounded through the Opera, quickly silencing the crowd’s mutterings over your sentence. “What is your decision?”

You could have heard a pin drop as the audience waited in rapt anticipation for your answer.

“I…I choose the latter,” you declared, tilting your chin up. You maintained direct eye contact with the Iudex all the while, holding onto your last bit of pride.

You could have sworn you saw Neuvillette release a breath of relief. “Very well. I hereby adjourn the court. Gardes, please escort the defendant to my office for further instruction.”

Two Gardes led you out of the Opera and onto an Aquabus to the city. They informed you that you would now be living in the Palais Mermonia and your duties would begin immediately. When you asked about retrieving your belongings and notifying your family, the Gardes exchanged glances.

“That won’t be necessary,” one said cryptically. “Monsieur Neuvillette will page your relatives and have your possessions seized.”

You frowned, wishing to object, but the Palais doors loomed before you like the entrance to a monster’s lair. You gulped but swallowed your fears, straightening your back pridefully as you were ushered inside and into the Chief Justice’s office. The bolting of the lock from the outside set alarm bells off immediately.

Neuvillette stood from his seat as you walked in. He coughed awkwardly, red dusting across his pale complexion. “Ah, Lady (Y/n). I do apologize for such a fast-paced series of events. You must be exhausted.” He motioned towards the sofa adjacent to his workspace. “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him in surprise. What happened to the unwavering judge from the court? Why was he suddenly treating you kindly? And why in the Archons’ names was he blushing of all things? Unsure how else to react, you obeyed and settled into your seat, with Neuvillette taking his own on the sofa across from you.

Neuvillette poured you a glass of what appeared to be plain water into an exquisitely ornamented cup. You took it wordlessly, noticing his eyes flare with a silver glow when your fingers brushed his own. Gripping his own cup, he raised the chalice towards you. “To a long and dedicated future together.”

You sketched a brow curiously but raised your glass in tandem to…whatever that was supposed to mean. “To not being in prison, I guess.”

“Indeed.” A breathy chuckle followed. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering as to what this whole business regarding your sentence is.” Neuvillette took a long sip from his chalice. He frowned slightly when you simply placed yours on the coffee table separating the two of you. “Although you may have thought you’d be completing droll office work, your duties will be a tad unorthodox.”

At this, your brows furrowed. Wasn’t that what all those employees you had passed in the Palais foyer had been doing—pushing papers? You had cringed at the dark bags under many of their eyes, at how many were asleep at their desks, imagining how similar you’ll look once your sentence was completed. But based on Neuvillette’s words, it sounded like you would be doing something very different.

Oh, Archons. I’m fucked.

You braced yourself to speak, but Neuvillette beat you to it.

“You are to be my wife.”

You blinked once, twice, waiting for the punchline of the joke.

Neuvillette merely stared at you with his hands folded across his lap, waiting for your response.

After a pregnant pause, you couldn’t help the stunned scoff that escaped your lips. “You can’t be serious.”

“Quite, I’m afraid.”

You shook your head. “With all due respect, Monsieur—”

“Please, call me Neuvillette.”

Ignoring him, you continued, “I did not agree to be your wife.”

The Chief Justice leaned back against the posh blue cushions of the sofa. “Although that may be the case, you are in no position to refuse. In fact, your sentence mandates that you follow my orders.”

You stood abruptly, sending your goblet toppling over and spilling its contents across the table. “Marriage was not a part of that sentence.” Which was ridiculous to begin with, you added to yourself. I mean, a life sentence for a pet name? It’s almost like he wanted me arrested.

Neuvillette sighed and flicked his wrist, causing the chalice to right itself and the water to refill. “Marriage is the highest form of dedication, no? Is that not what you pledged to?”

“I dedicated my life to the court,” you clarified.

“My dear, I am the court.”

You emitted a low hiss, turning to the door. “I’m leaving.”

Before you could take more than a step, Neuvillette moved towards you faster than a crack of lightning across the sea. His large frame straddled yours, pinning you against the sofa. He grabbed your dominant wrist, a foreign bubbling under your skin erecting the hairs on your arms. Your mind reached out for your hydro powers to defend yourself, only to be crushed with the realization that your vision had been confiscated at the court.

Despite your struggles, you could only watch in terror as a glowing silver-blue mark in the shape of a dragon burned across the length of your arm. The leviathan’s scaly body twisted in ringlets up your forearm and bicep, ending in a slender head with twin horns that crested your shoulder.

As soon as Neuvillette loosed his grip, you shoved him away, panting heavily. The mark had already disappeared, but you could still feel the ghost of it under your skin.“What have you done?” you whispered breathlessly.

In total contrast to your own contorted expression, Neuvillette appeared completely calm. He smoothed out his robes and adjusted his jabot. “I have lived for centuries, and I have many centuries more. I’ve merely gifted some of them to you.”

Your body began to shake, from fear, sadness, or rage you did not know. “I don’t want them.”

“You do remember that you promised to serve the court for eternity, don’t you? How do you expect to persist by my side otherwise?”

Eyes locked on the exit, you tried for a different tactic. “Take me to the Fortress of Meropide.”

Neuvillette’s expression darkened, his patience clearly thinning. “I will not.”

Your eyes shifted back to his. Although Neuvillette intimidated you beyond belief, you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without fighting for your life’s hard work. “I want to change my sentence.”

He glanced down at your arm. “It’s a bit too late for that, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he pulled you to his chest. His form towered over you, capable of resting his chin on the top of your head. “Please, understand. I mean to keep you from harm, even if it means being your jailor.”

“You’re insane,” you hissed, futility attempting to pull away. “Let go of me!”

Neuvillette’s grip was relentless. You stilled when you felt claws ghost up your back in a silent warning. “That is one thing I will never do.”

The fight in you slowly ebbed away—for now. Your resistance was clearly moot, like a gnat trying to down a dragon. You’d have to play the long game to learn how to get under his skin—and how to rid your own of this new mark. “I will find a way out of this,” was all you could promise, refusing to meet his eyes.

A deep sigh sounded above you. Neuvillette took a step back, looking at you with such longing you thought you’d combust on the spot. With one last stroke of your cheek, he strode towards the office’s exit and unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, he fixed you with a forlorn gaze. “By the time you realize your place here, there will be nothing for you to escape to. Only I will remain.” He once more turned his back to you and stepped out of the room.

You suddenly paled, realizing the implication of his words. If his declaration was true and you were to live as long as him, then your family, your career, the world as you know it would be completely gone. Your only company, your only solace, the only one who would remember your name, would be him. “Wait, no, you can’t—!”

He closed the doors.

~*~

Neuvillette was many things, but a liar was not one of them.

True to his word, you remained locked almost exclusively in the Palais Mermonia. On the rare occasions he let you outside, the Iudex served as your only company, diligently making sure you were hidden. Your vision was permanently taken, supposedly to prevent danger to yourself. It didn’t go unnoticed when he would wear it on his hip at important or potentially volatile trials. When you finally asked—or growled at him, really—why he kept it on his person, he had merely frowned and replied, “I originally thought the idea of a fake vision preposterous, I admit. I have no need for one. Yet having it feels as if you are constantly by my side.”

The draconic tattoo he had branded onto your arm not only extended your lifespan but also gave you a minuscule drop of his abilities—though only when you were in his presence (and most definitely not against him—you had tried). That allowed the two of you to transport to and breath in the depths of Fontaine whenever you begged to go out. In his mind, it was perfect—not only was the sea his realm, but no one and nothing could touch you. You were his alone to hold, to see, to have.

Those trips were torture for you. Free, but trapped; floating, but tied down to the man who was supposed to be the symbol of justice.

You, on the other hand, had tried a variety of (fruitless) tactics to convince the judge to free you. Any attempt at conversation or advance in his part was met with either vitriol or indifference on your part. You had once tried to charm him into letting his guard down, hoping you could sneak away while he was preoccupied at the court. This plan epically backfired on you when he mistook your subtle touches as permission to devour you with kisses and love bites, covering you in bruises from his sharp teeth for the next week. You wouldn’t so much as let him tap your shoulder for the next month after—the spark of silver in his eyes while he kissed you foretold of a deep, overwhelming desire that far surpassed simple kisses. You feared what might occur if the composed Chief Justice were given the opportunity to release his more primal urges.

And so, each day was passed much in the same:

1) Wake up on the floor or couch of his suite in the Palais—like hell you’d be sharing a bed with him. Oh, how he had tried in the beginning to usher you into bed, into his arms. It was childish, yes, but at least your refusal have you some semblance of autonomy.

2) Ponder on how you would greet Neuvillette that day.

3) Choose between fury or pretending he didn’t exist, typically the latter.

4) Look for a way to escape after he left for the Opera. Fail.

5) Spend most of the day scouring court cases in his office for clues to overturn your cause. Fail again.

6) Look out the window pitifully at the water beyond the Court of Fontaine (were the levels rising?). You often thought of your family back in Mondstadt; what were they told of your imprisonment, if anything? How long had you been stuck with the Chief Justice? The days blurred like ink in water.

7) Immediately exit the office towards his attached suite the moment he returned—any other room was preferable to his suffocating presence.

Today, though, he had chosen to interrupt your musings out the window before you could make your exit.

“You know, I find the beauty of the bright sunlight is best appreciated from the indoors through a window.”

Turning your head from the glass pane, your attention was brought to the figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing nothing but a simple pair of dark blue slacks and a white tunic, his robes hooked over his arm. At the start of your captivity you had mused how strange it was to see him without his normal ornamentation; now his comparatively plain appearance was a daily sight for you.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the window, relishing the heat from the coastal sun against your back. It was nothing like the dark pits he practically dragged you to now that you could breathe underwater. “Personally, I prefer to enjoy it with the company of a cool breeze by the shoreline.”

The Chief Justice loosed a deep sigh as he approached you. He extended his palm, caressing your cheek gently. “If you desire it so, I will rearrange some meetings and escort you—”

Below the waves, where he clung to you like a Lumitoile to a rock? “No need. Present company would ruin the experience. I prefer to be above water.”

Neuvillette had the audacity to wince at your retort. “So you instead choose to wallow in your self-inflicted solitude?”

You wanted to laugh at the hurt edge to his voice. Self-inflicted your ass—every moment of your life now centered on him, depended on his permission. Solitude was a disguise for any reprieve you could get from his constant attempts to court you.

The ironic part was that, if he had approached you normally, you could have seen yourself falling for him. He brought and cooked your favorite foods and beverages, showered you with gifts and books on photography, and tried his utmost to make you comfortable.

But you knew it was as nothing but glitter in a gilded cage. Neuvillette had drowned your whole world. So no, you wouldn’t act like any of this is normal.

Resisting the urge to bite his bare hand, you glared at your captor. “You could simply, oh, I don’t know, let me go.”

Neuvillette’s jaw tightened. His patience might run deeper than the Trench of Elton, but it was not everlasting. “We’ve discussed this.”

At that, you shrugged his hand off. “Can I at least speak with my family? My friends?”

A pained look flickered across Neuvillette’s face. “That isn’t possible.”

Your lip curled in response to his expression. “Don’t act like you actually care.”

Pursing his lips, he settled onto the window seat next to you. Though you were twitching with the urge to escape, he placed a large hand on your thigh, a gentle warning. “(Y/n), there’s something we must discuss.”

You narrowed your eyes, though your heart rate spiked. By now, he recognized your silence as a sign to continue.

“Do you wish to walk around the Court of Fontaine with me?”

Blinking, your throat dried. You swore you heard him wrong. “I’m sorry?”

Neuvillette squeezed your leg in what he thought was a comforting manner. His eyes—fuck, you had to admit they were wickedly beautiful, silver and sharp as a sword—never left your own. “You have been justified in your anger with me. I have restricted you for far too long. I would like to extend an olive branch, if you will—an agreement that we will both retain civility. I will grant you freedoms, but you must adhere to your sentence. Any deviation will not be tolerated.”

Your head was spinning, so you didn’t even consider the implications of his words. He was letting you out. “Can we go now?”

Neuvillette smiled softly. “Of course.” Standing, he offered you a hand. You tentatively took it, more awestruck than anything as he unlocked the doors to the outside. You’d finally get to see your family, your colleagues, the sun—!

Fontaine was unrecognizable.

The last time you seen the square of the Statue of the Seven, the roads were cobblestone. Now, strange machines roamed the paved streets, clearly serving as sentinels. None of the shops or restaurants were familiar—your favorite coffee shop, where you had so many chats with Carole, was now boasting signs for upscale fashion. A Melusine hopped by, wearing a Garde’s uniform, something that you remembered as being rare due to the increased chances of them being targeted. Your heart rate spiked in worry when the Melusine approached a group of children and their parents, only for a stunned expression to hit you when the creature was hugged by a little girl, her parents cooing in delight.

“Where…what?” you stammered. Fontaine had seemingly changed overnight—at least in your experience of time. Dread pooled in your stomach.

You attempted to pull your arm away from him, but his grip on you was steadfast. That same pained look from before marred his handsome features. “I did not lie when I said you have nothing to return to.” The Chief Justice sounded melancholic—he wished it hadn’t come to this, but he had to eliminate any prompts for you to leave.

“No, no.” Your heart dropped. “What… What year is it?”

The silence that followed was all you needed to know.

“How many years has it been, Neuvillette?” you repeated, your voice cracking with a desperate tone.

For once, Neuvillette avoided eye contact with you. He simply gestured towards a bulletin board, where the latest issue of The Steambird (at least one thing was consistent) was posted. You tore it from its pin, choking back a sob as you read the date.

Hands shaking, the issue fell to the ground. It landed in a puddle, its edges slowing soaking and blurring the ink. A steady rain had started to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.

It had been over four hundred years since Neuvillette had taken you.

If it weren’t for Neuvillete’s hand on your hip, you would have crumpled to your knees. “H-how?”

Neuvillete looked to the skies solemnly. “Time passes differently for us long-lived species.” You cringed at his use of us, and how he actually sounded remorseful. “But this is our opportunity for a fresh start.”

Silent tears streamed down your face. For what could you do? Everyone and everything you knew was gone. Lost to the sea of time forever. You had nothing.

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. “Cry not, my little pearl. No matter how many centuries pass, you will always have me.”

~*~

Neuvillette was many things.

And now, just as he dreamed since the moment he set his eyes on you, he was your everything.

And yet, you refused to drown.

As the years flowed like water through a stream, you began to learn the beat of Neuvillette’s dance. His emotions, his moods, his thoughts, all reflected themselves within the waltz of his life, and soon maneuvering around the steps became second nature to you. The balance of power laid within the count, and you were determined to be the one leading,

The dragon wanted to dance? So be it.

You’d give him the most challenging dance of his life.

This was requested by beloved, sweet, lovely, beautiful bestie @enden-k, whom I must thank very much, not only bc they actually allowed me to write more about yandere tarti, but for the constant love and support that he has given me since we have become friends. I can't express how glad I'm that you are in my life, I hope we will stay friends for a long, long time. I'm sorry I'm awful with words lmao but anyway! I hope you all will like this, and once again youn, thank u. U have no idea how important you are to me, love u bestie 💕💕💕💕

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, Yandere, Smut, 18+ (MINORS DON’T INTERACT), Broken English, Obsessed, Toxic Relationship, Dom Character, Implied Kidnapping, Dubcon/Noncon, Failed Attempted at escape, Gender Neutral Reader (no use of pronouns and body parts), A bit needy yandere tarti cause I'm a hoe, Implied Fight, Tarti has a little bruise but nothing much, One mention of blood, Unhinged Tarti, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! ➳ Pair: Childe x Reader (Genshin Impact) Words Count: 464

⤠ Numbers 14, 48 + Barbatos ⤟ Genshin Impact Masterlist ⤠ Numbers 17, 86 +  Mori, Chuuya ⤟

18. “You look so good with my hand around your neck”

“You sweet, sweet cute little lamp…~” he laughs, his entire body over yours, successfully holding you down against the hard, cold floor.

“Trying to run away from me again hm? You even managed to hurt me…” Ajax's hand goes to his face, touching the so small bruise you somehow managed to give him during your failed escape attempt. It already stopped bleeding for a long time, but he looked so proud.

“That’s why I can’t let you go sweetheart! Where else do I find someone like you? You are just so perfect...” he murmurs against your ear, red chocks of hair against your face as you hear Childe twisted laugh, his lips kissing your cheek in a surprisingly gentle touch.

If it weren’t for the red-haired using his whole strength to keep you down, and his hard big cock buried deep inside of you, you would have tried to say something back much to his enjoyment. But Ajax knew your body better than you did, so it was easy for him to make you become a moaning mess under him, no longer needing to hold you down since how desperate you were to touch him, to get more.

“I love you, I love so damn much!” his lips were now all over your face, kissing every possible inch while confessing his eternal love for you, his hips moving at such a fast pace that was making your head spin. Everything around you screamed Ajax; his voice, his scent, his body warm against yours, he was everywhere.

“Don’t ever think about running away again...” Ajax steals your lips with his, kissing you so hard and with so much passion, drinking all your sweet moans. “What will you do without me uh? What will I do without you?”

His glare was so different now; if before was a fighter glare, cold and dark, now it was one who seemed so in love, so desperate, so needy. You both were needy, Ajax needed you, and you needed him, his hands, his cock going deeper inside. You were so close to cumming, you didn’t really listen to what he was saying no more.

Suddenly his hand, which was on your hip holding you still, got to your neck in a tight grip. His hips were moving so slowly now, you whimper in protest trying to get more friction, but it was too late, your orgasm was now fading as you looked up at him, only to get scared by his smirk and cruel, dark glare on his eyes.

“You won’t try to run away again, right?” Ajax chuckles as you get more scared, his dick twitching inside of you in response. “... Mh. I must say... You look so good with my hand around your neck~”

This work belongs to @/alj0saray, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission.

Okay okay I need yandere senti and/or ayaka so badd >_<

HoS looks like she would murder you if you talk to anyone else, scratch that she would murder you if you did or maybe that person if you both aren’t close.

she is a bit clingy and bossy at times but she gives you little gifts to show you her affection, isn’t the type to keep you away from people but she is possessive of you and wary of the people you surround yourself with everyday.

she reminds me of the mean girl who is only soft to one person troupe except it is to hide her somewhat obsession with you.

ayaka does not like using her status to her advantage but rough times call for rough measures, She adores you, at first she thought it was a little crush or maybe admiration of your hard work but soon she started feeling jealousy seeing you talk to the traveller and laugh with them.

if you would just not talk with other people she would feel at ease but you just have to run your pretty mouth, it isn’t like she doesn’t talk with you but your conversations are cut short. Slowly but surely her want for you grows into obsession and starts keeping you by her side.

traveller needs help? well too bad you are stuck with the clans duty, someone wants to talk to you? come back in under a minute.

if you start to catch on ayaka has no choice but to tell you how much she “loves” you.

If anyone has hcs for yandere genshin/honkai characters send them I'm very bored and I'll try writing smth on them to help my writers block too!

Yandere psych ward genshin impact x fem reader

Tw: possessive behaviour

3rd person pov: as Aether skipped down the halls of the mental hospitals walls to y/n's room, he pulled open the door to find she wasn't there so he decided that she might be in the main building, so he closed her door and walked to the main building.

Bennett pov: I made my way down the hall to the main building to talk to razor but instead he saw y/n and ran straight towards her and started clinging to her like a lost puppy

Aether pov: when I saw bennett clinging to y/n like some sort of lost dog I was pissed, like why was he touching her I'm meant to be the only one to touch her.....

A/n I'll make more of this in a series I promise <3

Am I attracted to a faceless creepypasta now? Maybe

ERROR 410: GONE (Yandere Faceless!Kamisato Ayato/Reader)

A/n: thank you for the 5 dollar tip, "anonymous"! I asked them for what they want in exchange and they asked for a fac█le██ ayato fic... Alright then... You did ask for it...

Unreliable synopsis: Your new coworker doesn't seem to be from around here...

It was a cramped night at the bus stop. Except for the elderly, many people had their phones out since it was nearly midnight and nobody had the stamina to engage in conversation. You recently got promoted as a district manager for an international company, and oh, the work is just too exhausting to drone about. However, in this station, it didn't matter if you were an energetic student or an employee. The bus is abnormally later than their usual "lateness", and such a redundant statement elucidates just how shoddy their schedule is. Everyone was simultaneously stressed and drained and each of their war faces screamed that they would selfishly fight for the seat ride home.

All except for one man.

From the moment he arrived, you were peering at him. He had a similar appearance to the character you were "maining" in the video game you were enamored with for approximately two years. Though you seriously doubt he was in cosplay, he and that favorite of yours look eerily identical. His long-sleeved black coat and simple white turtleneck blend in with modern fashion fairly, save for his elaborate light blue hair, which was organically unkempt and not at all synthetic. His keen eyes led you to believe that he is from an Eastern lineage, most likely Japanese, but you didn't want to make any unfounded assumptions. Because it's simply impossible for someone to cosplay at this time, you were left silently marveling at the incredible coincidence.

He muttered something to himself, but you did not hear it.

“11:56 PM.”

You had a smidgen of knowledge regarding the bus schedule enough to give yourself a pep talk in the hopes that it would motivate you to give him directions. But no amount of psyching yourself up could have prepared you for when another person walked up to him. She asked the question you had been meaning to ask for the past three minutes, assuming she was a college student. He grinned at the worried girl. 

He was stunningly gorgeous when he smiled.

Wholly unfair how he exudes an aura of elegance whilst wearing normal clothes while you look like a sloppy burrito wrapped by a beige shawl this dead of night.

“Oh, no, no. I am not at all lost. I’m simply looking for someone.”

Everyone was fairly sure that person would never arrive, but he stayed roving around the room, pacing back and forth as if the person he was looking for will arrive the next minute. Whoever it was, you were starting to get angry on his behalf. Who would leave such an attractive man waiting? It was improper. 

But to be honest, you have already admitted to yourself that your life is quite dull— so you’re aware that this nonsensical drama you had over this imaginary person stemmed from boredom.

Out of the blue, he fixed his gaze on you.

The stranger’s eyes softened. The simmering panic in his expression vanished in an instant the moment he saw your face, and his mouth gaped open for a short while before he sauntered forward, ignoring the student who awkwardly shuffled back to her waiting spot.

You immediately felt small, upright, and astoundingly nervous. Not ready to be accosted by anyone at all.

“There you are…” He gave you that smile again. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Mx. (Y/n).”

You scanned the area before jabbing your finger at your chest. He nodded as if you were being ridiculous to consider that it may be someone else.

Ah, so the lookalike was waiting for you. 

You were mentally fighting yourself.

“I’m ███████ █████,” he said in a gentle tone— not at all reflecting the stressed out look he sported a moment before. “— The new product manager. I’m an incredibly recent hire, so please do not feel bad for not recognizing my face.”

That wasn’t the reason why your eyebrows were knitted, though. It’s because you DO recognize his face, but you doubt he’d take you for a reasonable person should you start pointing out his physical similarities with a fictional character.

███████ █████, huh? His full name is a bit average-sounding. Sounds like something you may have read on an early 2000s Weaboo forum on "What would your Japanese name be?" which lists down dates, birth months, and the first letter of a person's first name. However, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable— you just chalked him up as an unfortunate kid whose parents were eager to give their son the name "John Doe" when given the chance.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mister █████.”

“P-Please,” he shook his head. “Let’s drop the formalities. We shall work alongside together officially tomorrow. I would like for us to talk more casually if you would not mind.”

His vocabulary was painfully filled with constrictive pleasantries for someone who seemed to be eager to have a casually cordial relationship with you. Since a product manager and a district manager have roughly equal levels of authority in your company, his desire for friendship isn't too shocking.

Yet, you can’t help but stare… It’s still so strange how he also has a mole right underneath his lip.

He looks just like Kamisato Ayato from Genshin Impact, but not for long.

At first, you envied █████’s youthful glow and wanted it for yourself, but upon learning that he will replace Mister Blaiddyd, you mentally prayed that he wouldn’t lose his mind from stress like his predecessor. That’s how stressful being a product manager is. Give him two months and he’d probably start ruining his coiffed hair during crunch times.

“Understood,” your eyes darted back to the bus station, which remained regrettably devoid of any vehicle. You were starting to consider taking a taxi to avoid this awkward conversation but there’s not a single one in sight. “Since you’ve mentioned that you were trying to find me, might I ask why that is, exactly?”

“Ah, yes,” he instinctively adjusted his collar. His sharp and sophisticated face never averted away from you. “You see— Miss Goneril had informed me that I should approach you if I had any concerns about work.”

Ahh… Hilda…

His future plight still doesn’t change how annoying this situation is. Can’t believe you’re already assigned to helping a newbie out as soon as you got your promotion. She’s planning to milk your kindness dry this month, isn’t she? Despite being your best work friend, Hilda doesn’t have to be unkind to someone to exploit them. But you suppose you wouldn’t mind too much, given how he doesn’t look half-bad. Call it vain, call it a “coping mechanism”, but there wouldn’t be any shame on your end to teach a new attractive coworker the ropes of your job. 

You'll treat him nicely. As the good Samaritan you are, maybe you'll also ask him to give up while he's ahead for good measure.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind helping you out—”

“I'm most grateful!”

“—but it is VERY late.”

You took a quick look at your phone. 11:53 PM—and there were three messages from Miss Goneril confirming that █████ is the new hire. Since Hilda never filtered her remarks when it came to... aesthetically pleasing people, you instantly pocketed your phone. It was a grave oversight on your end that Hilda found out earlier that you weren't paying attention to her babbling earlier. You wouldn't get such a long message on how "hot" █████'s mole was if you were a better pretender. Her thirst was kind of unsettling.

Ah, whatever. You’ll just delete it later.

You held back a yawn, “where’s your stop?”

“███ ███████.”

“Ah, that’s where I drop off too.”

Additionally, it is the bus's final stop, so you would have to spend a lot more time with him. Great. You hoped he wouldn't try to strike up a conversation with some small talk.

He placed his hand on his chin. Now that he’s up close, you realized just how long his sleeves were. The silhouette nearly reminded you of Kamisato Ayato once more. █████ nodded with a half-teasing smile.

“Oh, not to worry, I know.”

Hilda must have told him right away. You secretly hoped that the main reason she paired you two up was because of your shared destination so you could applaud her wise decision-making skills, but you knew better. Once more, Hilda is attempting to match you with someone.

You cleared your throat, “well then, you better prepare yourself with some sleepless nights because the buses around here don’t come around plenty. You’d have to stand most of the time—”

He muttered something again, “three minutes left.”

“Hmm?”

“Ah, no, it’s nothing. I’ve recently moved here so please do continue explaining.”

“… Right.” You sighed, “do you live in ██████████?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’d go in opposite directions. I live in █████ so this is the only bus we share.”

“Unfortunately.”

That almost made you snort. Unfortunately? It's not at all unfortunate, though. During these hours, you rarely feel socially motivated to communicate, and you just know deep down that once he starts working, you'll find a method to board buses separately from him.

“If it’s alright for me to quickly digress— may I trouble you with something, (Y/n)?”

“Sure.”

“May I take a picture with you?” █████ asked. “I want to upload it in my Instagram Story to show my friends and family that I’m faring well. They’ve been insistent that I should make friends on my first day of work— even when based on technicalities, this doesn’t qualify as my first day.”

He must be the eldest and the breadwinner of the ████████ family. That's admirable. Working with someone like him is not a problem for you. They constantly know how to get the job done.

“I don’t mind,” you said, slightly nervous. “But can you not add any weird stuff?”

“Weird stuff?”

“Like, maybe a “my new coworker is ugly” or something like that.”

“W-What?!” █████ jolted. “I would never do such a thing! Especially towards you, my bel—”

“R-Relax, that was just a joke.” Not really. “Is it okay if I don’t take my face mask off?”

“… Of course, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Great.”

█████ scooted closer to you, placing his phone up and angling it in the direction that mostly showed your face. It’s as if he didn’t want his face to be seen, but with a handsome face like that? You’re highly doubtful that is the case. His hands were trembling. The poor man must’ve been incredibly sleep deprived and running on coffee like you.

Unwittingly, you placed your hand above his to steady his phone and you heard him gasp softly. You quickly withdrew your hand away as though you touched a hot kettle when its anything but warm.

His hands were cold, it almost didn’t feel human.

“Oh— sorry!” You shrugged, cringing. “I didn’t mean to—”

“N-No, it’s fine!” He chuckled nervously. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I have been told that I am terrible at using a Kamera.”

Why does he say “camera” with a hard “K”? You’ve never heard anyone else pronounce it in that way. Possibly a local accent. It was tempting to ask where he’s from but perhaps that topic would be better brought up some other time. Asking that question might just make him miss his family more, and his parents might be wide-awake right now anticipating any form of reassurance that their child is doing fine.

“Then allow me to take the pic for us.”

He smiled eagerly, “I would greatly appreciate that.”

█████ handed you his phone. You set it up at the same angle he had originally intended, although this time his phone's screen displayed both your faces more clearly. Although you made an effort to contain your emotions, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by how much he resembles Kamisato Ayato. You mentally readied yourself for the possibility that you would feel his breath on your neck, but you didn't feel him breathe. That doesn’t make you feel untouched, however, since he rested his hand on your shoulder to pull you close enough for the picture.

Is he holding his breath?

“Stay still,” he commanded.

You clenched your fist, trying hard NOT to think about how close his voice is to Chris Hackney’s.

After you pressed the shutter button at least three times, you opened the pictures you’ve taken.

He really does have a beautiful smile.

“Is there something wrong with my face…?”

“Hmm? N-No,” you sputtered out. “I just thought it was a good pic.”

“I’m glad,” he laughed heartily. “I’m still getting used to this face after all.”

… Huh.

Maybe you lack sleep, but the photos remind you of those AI-generated photos on social media— the stolen ones that artists rightfully plead credit for. Maybe you just find him excessively gorgeous because he reminded you of a fictional character you were familiar with, but his appearance somehow seems otherworldly…

“11:55, one minute left.” He muttered again as he crooned above your neck, gazing at his phone.

“For what?”

█████ laughed heartily. 

“For the bus, of course!”

You raised an eyebrow. The station was incredibly empty. You genuinely can’t tell who would lie to him about that.

“Sorry, █████, I don’t know who told you that but there’s genuinely no pattern as to when the bus arrives here. That’s fake news—”

“██████████!!! ██████████!!!”

You immediately snap your neck at the sound of the bus conductor.

“H-Huh?” Your eyes widened.

█████ wore a smug smile on his face as he watched you stare at his phone in disbelief. He was correct; the time was 11:56 pm. But before he had time to gloat and act “mysterious”, you snatched his cold hand and sprinted for the seats— apologizing to the college student you bumped into along the way.

No way in hell you’re going to wait for the next bus.

“We need to go! Now!!!”

You woke up the next day feeling more tired than the previous morning.

Tuesday means that you will inevitably have to work today. You woke up before your alarm, but instead of being a responsible adult and opening up a parcel of bread with hot coffee on the side, you rolled on your bed to whisk your charged phone from the nightstand. You received notifications from several social media apps and a work email from Mister Gautier, but you'd prefer not to startle yourself by hearing one of your subordinate's absurd justifications for being absent. Instead, you launched the Instagram app that you reluctantly installed because of Hilda.

The picture you took together with █████ is still up on his Story.

The image is just as you recall it. You might even say that your opinion of his appearance significantly increased after a good night's sleep. How did you manage to converse with your new coworker last night without turning into a stammering wreck when he is THIS drop-dead gorgeous? You're confident the picture wasn't edited in any way. After all, you saw him upload it directly to his phone's social media account because you wanted to make sure he wouldn't add any odd captions. Congrats to █████ for being incredibly photogenic. He genuinely looks like an AI-generated person with how flawless he appeared. You would have told Hilda straight away that whatever she was swooning over had to be some kind of catfish if you hadn't met him—

You squinted.

…

“Wait a second.”

You looked closely at his hand which rested on top of your shoulder.

“… Are those six fingers?”

That can’t be right.

Sure, he does look like an AI-generated person in the flesh but six fingers? Absurd. It’s probably due to the horrible lighting.

You can’t zoom in on a story, so you took a screenshot but—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Shit.”

You had no time to spare. Hastily, you rolled out, tossed your phone on the bed, and staggered to the restroom. You had to go as soon as possible since you have a meeting this morning. At this rate, soldiers who lived ration by ration likely had a healthier diet than you– but your boss is the embodiment of evil.

You’ll just have to look at the image later.

“Bad morning?”

“Oh, nice to see you here, █████.”

█████ grinned, pointing at the chair beside you, “would you mind if I sit?”

You smiled politely, “I don’t own this place, you know?”

He chuckled, “fair enough.”

It's 4:07 PM. Even though one of your team members arrived later than expected, you eventually built momentum and finished the presentation on a high note. Working with Mr. Gautier is such a headache. Thankfully, district managers have to go out in the field, so before you know it, you've excused yourself to eat lunch at your preferred café. The barely-melted coffee powder you had at home wasn't going to help you get through the day like your favorite cup here. Your cup was no longer a "morning joe", but better late than never.

█████ sank on the cafe’s chair, inhaling the aroma of the rich coffee you ordered. You assumed yet again that it was Miss Goneril’s atrocious wingman skills that led him to this place. His shoulders relaxed a bit afterward as he eyed your cup.

“I do wonder what real coffee tastes like…” █████ mumbled.

You'd give it to him, but you're stressed out—probably more so than he is, given that your supervisor basically holds his hand around the office like a newborn child. The gravity of the problems you carry as a District Manager is nothing to laugh at, either. It’s just a matter of getting used to it.

“Looking already stressed on your official first day, hmm?” You teased before you sipped your cup, pretending you don’t feel his jealous eyes. “Is being a Project Manager not what you had expected?”

█████ shook his head, scoffing with a lopsided grin.

“Oh no, I used to have bigger workloads. I’m only behaving this way since I’m not used to moving this face often.”

This face, huh? What a unique yet expected phrasing. After all, he is so attractive that it wouldn't surprise you if he thought of his face as a separate entity that must be maintained. █████ must be the type of person who cares an awful lot for skin care and self-love. Good for him, good for him.

“Never worked in retail before?” You tilted your head. “Never practiced your customer service smile?”

“In a way, yes,” he chuckled. “I am more accustomed to working behind the scenes since my younger sister takes most of the spotlight in the commi— our family business.”

█████ sure laughs a lot.

“Ah, is she something of an entertainer?” You teased. Knowing a thing or two about other people’s younger siblings, you anticipated some messy anecdotes which served to amplify your opinions on how chaotic having siblings is.

“No. On the contrary, she’s incredibly reserved and poised.”

“Then I bet there’s just something charismatic about her— is she the artistic type?”

“She is. Our family’s beloved princess is quite skilled in the art of dancing and calligraphy. You ought to watch her perform someday.”

You made an effort not to grin foolishly as humiliating thoughts ran rampant inside your head. His sister sounds like Ayaka already. How surreal would it be if you opened up your phone and did your Daily Commissions in front of him—

Oh, right! Your phone— that screenshot!

You ferreted your phone out of your bag, side-eyeing him each time you failed to find it inside its mini-pockets. █████ kept smiling as you busied yourself in hopes you’d locate your phone sooner. To fill in the dead air (and to avoid getting uncomfortable knowing that a man was keeping a close eye on you), you got right onto the meat of the subject by asking questions.

“Hey— I know this is weird, but can I see your hands?”

█████ didn’t respond for a while, lost in a trance before you lightly waved at his face. His soft gaze broke as he blinked fast multiple times.

“My… hands? Alright.”

He pulled his long sleeves— which iconically trailed longer than any other coat in the company— to smoothly show off his slender fingers. █████ glanced at his wristwatch in the process. 4:09 PM. Just one minute more.

Meanwhile, you flinched. He clearly had five fingers in each hand. The normal amount. You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting.

“Hah, I’m definitely sleep deprived,” you spoke humorously. “When I checked our picture this morning I swear I saw six fingers.”

He didn’t laugh. Slowly, he closed his eyes, unamused.

“You’re wrong.” 

█████’s voice dipped low.

You never realized how warm his servile gazes were until he starts looking at you with a cold glare.

You felt your spine tremble as you took note of how he crossed his arms. What’s with this sudden shift in atmosphere? Shouldn’t he laugh at how strange your question was instead?

Why did he sound so offended?

Due to the nature of his tone, you sputtered out an excuse to bring back the light conversation you had before, “must’ve been because its dark— here hold on I took a screenshot of it.”

You opened your gallery, not bothering to scroll deep into it since it should be a recent photo. Yet, you paused, and frantically swiped up and down. You expected that screenshot to be the first image that greets you upon opening the app, but you only saw an entirely black PNG file. Why on earth did that screenshot turn void? You tried searching but you only found recent scans from the last week’s meetings and some “candid” selfies Hilda most likely snapped for herself. 

This makes no sense whatsoever! You swore you took the screenshot earlier and there was no notification that it failed to save it.

“█████” smirked.

11:56 PM M: (Y/n) waits at the bus station.

02:33 AM T: (Y/n) arrives home.

8:01 AM T: (Y/n) has a meeting.

4:10 PM T: (Y/n) looks at their phone at Cafe █████.

4:10 PM. GONE.

You’re so adorable when you have your phone close to your face with your eyebrows knitted like that… Oh, his dear beloved, you nearly got him…

It’s such a shame that he knows your phone like the back of his palm.

“Is something the matter, (Y/n)?”

Kamisato Ayato chuckled behind his sleeve.

You wouldn’t meet his eye, “I was pretty certain I took a screenshot of it this morning, this is so strange…”

Quickly, you opened Instagram to check “█████”’s Story, but the image was missing as well. Since Stories only expire after 24 hours, and it has only been a little over half that time since it was posted, it shouldn't have disappeared. Your eyes remained glued to your phone, unbeknownst to the sinister smile your coworker wore amidst your defeated state.

“Say, did you remove your Stor—”

“Here.”

“█████” slid his phone onto the table.

You picked it up. It’s the picture you two had at the station. You zoomed in on his hand.

Five fingers.

“… Yeah, it’s definitely five,” you whimpered almost inaudibly. “Here I thought I could show you something funny. Damn. I’m really sleep-deprived.”

“I know, you sleep at around 2:30 after all.”

“Yeah—”

You took a breath and then shook your head. There is no need to be skeptical about that statement; it's simple arithmetic. He reportedly knows a lot about accounting, thus he most likely estimated the length of your ride home as if it were a no-brainer. You gave him a wary smile. He's a lot more calculating than you first thought; he even picked up that you were looking for the photo you took the night before without your having to tell him.

Doing what needed to be done without being asked…

“█████” swiftly took his phone back.

“Now then, would you care to enlighten me as to what tastes good on this cafe’s menu?”

You smiled.

Yeah. You think you’ll get along with the new Project Manager just fine.

“Why, it’ll be my pleasure! First off, the frappe here is not that bad…”

This feels like a lamb talking to a wolf in sheep’s clothing and I absolutely adore that

If you’re still open for character interactions prompts, could I ask for Ayato + “Ayato, i’m so sorry to ask for such a shameful thing but… There’s been weird stuff happening around lately and it’s scaring me. Could I please stay with you for a while, until things calm down? I’m so sorry to bother you like this, I hope you’ll forgive me…” ? Thank you a lot <3

Ahhhhh I love this, ty anon

//Yandere themes, gang stalking

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“…This is the first time you've mentioned this to me.” His eyebrows raised. He set his cup back down on the table. “Care to elaborate?”

You shifted in your place on the floor, tightening your grip on your own cup, holding it firmly against the low table. You shifted your gaze downward, rather than where he sat on the opposite side.

You had been waiting to ask, but you felt rather guilty about doing so. After all, he was the one who had graciously invited you here for tea, and you had accepted as you always did, only this time to make such a burdensome request of him… you swallowed.

“It’s… it’s really dumb, really, I’m probably just being paranoid—”

“I insist.” His voice was firm, but not angered, more of a concern in his tone. “Your face makes it obvious that you’re worried. You wouldn’t be so much so if it was completely unfounded.” After a moment, he added, “if it is just paranoia, you know I would be honest with you and tell you so. Perhaps I can help you understand the situation better?”

You bit your lip, looking around the room. Expensive-looking furniture and décor lined the walls, the floor. Even the table you rested your arms against had an ornate design carved into the sides, a fine polished finish on the top.

Being at the estate always made you feel slightly uncomfortable for that reason, you felt almost nervous being around so many expensive things, you felt out of place… but you’d gotten used to it over time. Still, it reminded you of how important he was, and thus bothering him with what you figured to be trivial issues in your own life (at least compared to the significance of the matters he dealt with on a daily basis) made you feel that much more reluctant to bring it up.

Still, you were truly quite frightened by the matter, so you forced the words out of your mouth anyway.

“I just…” you fidgeted, shifting the position of your calves as you sat on them, “I’ve noticed over the past few months that… I keep feeling like there are people following me around,” you started, stumbling over exactly how to word it. “More than one person, too… I don’t know. I feel like I keep seeing the same faces over and over and notice people walking the same way as me for a long time… the thing is, when I make eye contact with them, they always dart away. I dunno, that especially seemed... strange."

He was quiet for a moment. You couldn’t quite read his expression. He didn’t show any outward emotion in particular, but his eyebrows seemed to furrow slightly, he sat more upright, fingers drumming against the cup. He appeared to be thinking seriously about your words.

“If you’ve noticed it this frequently, it’s likely serious,” he replied, after a moment of quiet. “That sounds perfectly reasonable to be concerned over, in my opinion."

“N-no, I don’t…” You shook your head. “I don’t know. I’m probably being paranoid and convincing myself of it... why would there be people spying on me anyway? It would be one thing if it was one person, but…” You inhaled, and sighed. “I can’t think of any reason multiple people would follow me. I’m not involved in politics like you or anything.”

“…Yes, that’s true.” He leaned back, tilting his gaze to the wall. His eyebrows furrowed further, and he sighed, almost with a frustration to it. With his next words, his voice took on a hint of irritation. “If assigned to watch you without being noticed, it sounds as though the individuals in question are perhaps not performing their job very well.”

There was a quiet that followed. The sentence felt like an odd choice of response, and the tone bizarre for such a thing to say. It thus threw you off, leaving you unable to form a reply. You merely looked at him for a moment at you thought through it. "You think it's like... their job to watch me?"

His gaze flickered over to you, and seeing the expression on your face, he seemed to go rigid, quickly straightening his posture, tilting his head downward and giving one shake of the head back and forth. “Just one possibility… but never mind that.” He looked back up at you, eyes directly meeting yours. “You really should not have waited for me to invite you over to tell me about this.” He leaned back just a bit, releasing his grip from his cup, hands intertwined and resting on the table. “In truth, I’m a bit bothered to know that you would delay telling me this. You should have come to me as soon as you had this suspicion.”

You felt a twinge of guilt and distress at the tone of his voice. He always managed to maintain a certain calm, dignified tone of voice, but you could hear the frustration in it, even if restrained. “O-oh, I’m sorry. I just…” You averted your gaze, looking everywhere but at him. “I didn’t want to bother you. I know you’re busy.”

He shook his head. “I’m never so busy that your safety would not take priority. I would prefer it if you prioritized your safety as well. Don't be careless."

You swallowed, quickly nodding. "Y-yes, you're right... I will." Although the answer seemed obvious now, you reiterated your original question. “So… that’s a yes, then? I can stay here?”

He blinked, eyebrows raising as he realized he’d momentarily forgotten the question itself. “Ah, apologies,” he closed his eyes for a brief moment. “I got caught up in talking about the matter.” He smiled, that pleasant, soft smile of his that always felt so reassuring. “Of course. You don’t need a reason to stay here, you know. You’re always welcome.”

“Thank you! Thank you, I…” You closed your eyes, letting out a deep exhale of relief. “I… well, thank you for the tea, too, but I should probably go get my things. I didn’t bring anything with me because I just… wasn’t sure if—"

“No need.” His response was immediate. “I will send someone to collect them for you. It’s already nearly sundown. I don’t want you walking out there, given everything you’ve told me.” He paused, and then, in a quieter, lower tone, added, “…besides, I need to have a talk with some of the Shuumatsuban anyhow. I’ll see to it that they take care of that as well.”

You felt guilty for imposing such a burden, but you nodded your head. You knew he would insist upon it if you tried to refuse. “Thank you, Lord Kam…” you trailed off as his expression changed – a raised eyebrow, a soft smile of amusement. You remembered how many times you’d been over the matter now. “Ayato,” you corrected yourself, flashing a sheepish smile. It still felt almost wrong to your tongue, no matter how much he insisted, to be so casual with someone of his social hierarchal standing.

He merely chuckled, seeming to find it endearing. A few moments passed in silence. He stared down at the cup in his hands, grin slowly fading, eyes falling half-lidded. After taking a deep breath, and taking a moment to tuck a tuft of hair behind his ear, he abruptly stood.

“If you’re done, just leave everything on the table. I’ll send someone to clean up. Please, make yourself at home." He smiled at you once more, although this time, it seemed just a touch forced. "I’ll send someone to show you to a guest room in just a moment as well. And be sure have your keys on hand to give to them, they'll need it to get into your residence."

His voice was pleasant, amiable, and yet, there was a faint coldness to it, as if rushing things. You supposed he was truly worried, which was sweet, you thought. You still felt guilty about it all.

He took a few steps towards the door, sliding it open, but paused before exiting. He turned his head back towards you.

“You know, if you want to move here permanently, that is also an option that I would be happy to offer to you. This whole estate is very well-guarded. It’s far safer than the city.”

Your eyes widened. The statement, such a generous offer, caught you off-guard. “Oh, no, I… I could never ask you to—”

“Really. It’s no trouble. It would be quite reassuring for me to know you’re safe.” He waited a moment, but seemed to understand from your bewildered expression that you would not be formulating a response for the moment. He closed his eyes pensively for a moment, before opening them again to look at you once more. “Well, I’ll let you think it over. Someone will be by in just a minute, so, wait here for now.”

You gave an awkward smile. “Oh, ah… alright. Thank you.”

He only nodded, saying nothing more before exiting the room, leaving you alone in the quiet. For some reason, despite the reassurance, you still felt a faint hint of unease in the back of your mind… you concerns must have just bothered you more than you’d realized.

Adding my own SAGAU brainrot to the pile

Creator!Reader | Word count: 1551

Someone is speaking.

It’s in a language you don’t recognise. But you still gravitate towards it without a second thought. You haven’t seen anyone in months. Haven’t heard another person speak in just as long. The whole living as a Disney princess off the land had been going pretty well so far; you had ample food, water and shelter. But you were lonely. Squirrels and birds were cute, but they didn’t understand you. You previously had never gone over a few days without speaking to someone that would speak back. And the lonelier you got, the more uncomfortable you became. Hyper aware of the cold and your lack of shoes, unable to relax due to the roaring sea that crashed constantly against the nearby craigs.

You pause as you reach the edge of the forest. Peering through the thin trees to the sandy beach you had woken up on only a month ago. There’s a woman there, muttering to herself as she paces along the length of the beach. She is also dressed as the character Yelan from Genshin Impact. Blue Hydro vision replica and all.

Still. She’s the first person you’ve seen in months. The first person you’ve seen since you woke up on this beach. It’s not weird enough to dissuade you from making your way down to the beach.

“Hello?” you call out.

For a moment you think she might not have heard you. That your voice, brittle with disuse, was overwhelmed by the crashing waves. You open your mouth again to call out to her again, when she turns sharply towards you.

The words she speaks are just as unfamiliar as before. But the fact that they’re spoken by another person is more than enough to fill you with relief.

“Hello,” you say again. Hopeful that that word is universal enough that she will recognise it as English. Even if she doesn’t speak the language. “Can you understand me?”

The woman—you try not to think of her as Yelan—looks at you consideringly. She takes a step forward, hands flexing at her side, before pausing.

“Greetings,” she says, bowing shallowly. Her accent is entirely foreign to you. Rolling the r and placing hard emphasis on the consonants. It makes her tone sound harsh, even though her body language and voice are relaxed.

You smile uncertainly at her.

“This envoy has been searching for you.” Her words are spoken with obvious care. It’s apparent from the concentration on her face, never mind the awkwardness of her speech, that her English is not fluent. But it’s such a massive relief to find out that she can understand you at all. You can’t help the relieved grin that works its way across your face. There was an envoy? A search party? Send out to find you after all this time? You had half given up on the possibility of ever seeing civilization again.

“Thank you. You’re a live saver. What’s your name?” You ask, after telling her yours.

She looks at you with the same assessing gaze. Taking you in; your scraggly hair, your threadbare clothes, your bare feet.

Whatever it is she’s looking for, she seems to find it. Because she crosses the distance between you, pulling her coat off her shoulders and throwing it over yours. It’s far too narrow to fit comfortably, but the fur trim against your face is so incredibly soft that you can’t resist the urge to brush your cheek against it. You snap out of it a second later, looking down at her with an embarrassed grin.

“This one’s name is Yelan,” she says.

It makes you frown. Maybe she really was nothing more than a weird cosplayer. But even so, this was still a person. One that presumably had a way off this island.

If she was even real. Your heart lurches at the horrible thought that this was some kind of mirage, crafted by your loneliness. An illusion would disappear the moment you took your eyes off her.

Moving faster than you thought possible, you grab her wrist. She feels real. Her arm is solid and warm beneath the thin material of her sleeve. You think you can feel the beating of her hard beneath your fingertips, but it’s just as likely to be your own.

“Sorry, I just-“you drop her hand. Abruptly aware of what you had just done. “Sorry I didn’t mean to. Please don’t leave me here.”

You do not look up and see her expression. Embarrassment and shame mixing in your gut. Instead, keeping you eyes fixed on your feet.

“This one will not leave Guyun Stone Forest alone,” the woman says softly. “Follow.”

She leads you to a shockingly large boat moored not far off the beach. You wonder how it was possible to have missed it. But you know the answer just as quickly as the question had crossed your mind. You had been far to occupied wallowing in your own loneliness in your makeshift shelter. Hidden away from the elements and the outside world alike. You wonder if there were any other similar vessels or search parties you missed.

A hush falls over the vessel as you board. The crew glancing nervously between themselves as Yelan helps you from the rowboat onto the deck.

The silence is cut by the sound of a woman yelling something, in that same unfamiliar language. You look towards the sound and are shocked by the sight of another woman dressed as Beidou. Electro vision catching the sun light as she walks towards them, chatting jovially all the while.

You are suddenly hit by the thought that what if there are not just a bunch of cosplayers working in search and rescue. After all what kind of search party had access to an eighteenth-century style vessel with canvas sails and rigging? You look up, towards the crow’s nest, and sure enough there’s a young man there dressed like Kaedehara Kazuha.

You look back down at the woman dressed as Beidou. You look at her vibrant purple eye, her overly confident demeanour and say, “Beidou?”

The woman, Beidou, tilts her head to the side as she says something that you assume to be a greeting or acknowledgement of some kind. She looks to Yelan with a predatory smile speaking all the while.

You don’t have much time to process the revelation before Yelan is grabbing you by the upper arm and leading you beneath the deck. Grip far too firm to be a mere suggestion. You suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed. Is this some kind of Isekai scenario?

Yelan opens a door to a cabin, escorting you inside and finally letting you go. The cabin is sparse, little more than a bad nailed to one corner with a hempen blanket, and a bucket in the other.

“You’re name… it’s really Yelan right?”

“Do not leave this room,” she says in lieu of an answer. “Listen to the captain, listen to this one. This one promises Your Grace will reach the shores of Liyue Harbor safely.”

She leaves. Locking the door behind her.

You watch the closed door with disbelief. Waiting a moment before checking the latch, verifying that it really was locked—it was—before sinking to the ground in a daze.

And just like that you’re alone once again. Only this time, rather than being stranded on an island surrounded by friendly fauna and the open sky, you’re stuck in the dank hull of a ship all by yourself. You want to curl up in a ball on the bed. Only you can feel the boat creak and shudder around you. You’re too scared to move from you perch on the floor, one hand braced against a bed leg. Scared that the moment you let go the boat will lurch, and you’ll be flung across the room.

You realise that Yelan (Yelan from Genshin Impact) said that you would reach the shores of Liyue Harbor. But she never said what would happen afterwards.

It is, by far, the worst possible scenario. You can feel the panic building inside you. All-encompassing, loneliness forgotten. You feel the sting of betrayal. You had followed Yelan in good faith. Thinking that she was your path to rescue, your safety line. Only… for this.

The boat lurches, waves crashing deafeningly against the hull. It drives all thought from your mind other than fear. You’ve never been on a boat like this before. Never been beneath deck in a ship where you could smell wet wood. Where the ship was weak, flimsy enough that you could picture it smashing against the water after the drop from a tall wave.

The ocean only becomes more violent as you fall further into your state of blind panic. Louder and louder. More and more violent. You realise now, just how gentle the waves against the rocky outcrops of Guyun Sone Forest had been. The bucket, the only loose thing in the room, starts rolling around. Getting thrown around more and more violently as the boat crashes down on the uneven sea, again and again and again.

You know without a doubt, that this is the worst day of your life. You wonder how long the voyage to Liyue Harbor is meant to be.

Could someone be a dear and remind me who it was that wrote a pantalone fanfiction where the reader is Dottore's child? I don't remember whether it was gender neutral or not. Thank you very much in advance.