#shoutout to tomayto to being one of few people to ever ask for a follow up to a thing I’ve written

[heyheydidjaknow]

It only took me like 8 months to write a follow-up to Good Wine. It has sat gathering dust and it will gather dust no longer. Granted I'm not particularly happy with it but when am I ever? It's a yandere Venti x reader, so read the tags.

Incomprehensible

You were not talking to him.

He jotted another note on the sheet in front of him, mumbling potential lyrics to himself. He understood that the first few months would be the most difficult as you became acclimated to your situation, and all things considered, you were taking things fairly well. You did not try to jump again, opting to instead sit by the mouth of the cave and read to pass the time. When he brought food back, you ate it and did not try to vomit it back up like you had the first week. He had managed to grab more things from your home for you to decorate the space, and the wall now had a painting on it, which was progress. Sure, you had not said a word to him in that time and did not sleep when he was in the room, but that was fine for now; of the two of you, he was reasonably confident you would be the first to fold.

He looked over at you, sat, like usual, with your legs dangling over the ledge. He knew that the thing to do was to wait you out, that if he wanted you to talk to him he needed to make you. Of the two of you, he was the one still allowed to talk to people; you would come asking for reassurance at some point. The only issue was the odd emptiness in his chest. He had been used to talking to you nearly every day. He had expected yelling and crying and glaring. He was not ready to be without you entirely.

But this was for the best. You would crack eventually

He heard you, bare feet on stone, walk towards him. He pretended not to notice as you sat down beside him. “Can I ask you something?”

He looked up, as if surprised. “Hm? Oh, of course.”

You wrung your hands. “What do people think happened to me?”

He blinked, confused by the question.

You sighed, frustrated already. “People would be worried about me if they thought I was missing. That doesn’t help your cause at all, so what do people think happened to me?”

He carefully moved his writings aside, ink still drying. “I’ll tell you if you let me hug you.”

You stared at him as if he had grown a third head.

He kept his gaze steady. “We’ve hugged before. I don’t think it’s unreasonable.” He turned his body to face you, crisscrossing his legs. “But I have no intention of forcing you either way; I’m perfectly fine with waiting for you to come around.”

You opened your mouth to protest, paused. You stared back out the mouth of the cave. “What do they think happened to me?”

He felt his whole body relax. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your neck and pulling himself into your lap. “You ran away.” He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, fighting the urge to cry out in relief; there was a chance. “I tried to talk you out of it, but you said that you needed to find your own way in the world and that you wanted to take time to explore the world. You only took what you could carry and went off on your way and I swore not to tell anyone where you were going. That way, if something happened so that you could go back, you could.”

You were stiff under him. “Has anyone tried looking for me?”

He nodded. “They tried for two weeks and then decided that it was your life and to not get involved.”

“And they know you know where I am?”

He leaned back to look at you properly. “They do.”

You refused to make eye contact. “What do I have to do to send them a letter to let them know I’m fine?”

“What do you need to do?” He considered it. “Well,” his voice lowered, “I would have to think about it. Let's see…” He gave you a once over. “I’ll give them a letter if you promise to talk to me again.”

“About what?”

He sighed. “Whatever we used to talk about: the weather, music, anything.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t think we need to set an exact time.” He smiled softly. “I just miss hearing your voice.” He cleared his throat; even now he was worried about coming on too strong. “You’ll need to prove you’re good for it first.” He held up a finger. “One week of cordiality for one letter. One letter a week is realistic, wouldn’t you say?”

You looked at a spot on the floor. “Will you read me any letters if I get them?”

“I’ll tell you what they say.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

“Excellent.” He sighed. “Now, that isn’t too much trouble, is it?”

You kept your arms behind you, keeping yourself sat upright. “More trouble than it’s worth.”

He laughed despite your obvious displeasure. “Well, when you get used to being here more I’m sure you’ll come around to just talking to me.”

“I doubt it.” You licked your teeth. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

You looked back out the cave’s mouth. “Is this a new thing for you?”

He cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Kidnapping people,” you clarified simply. “Have you kidnapped someone before?”

He considered the question, turning it around and trying to answer it in such a way that it may become more palatable. “I’ve never gone this far with anyone, no.” He let his head fall back to the crook of your neck. “I would have never fantasized about being so intimate with someone before now.”

“Lucky me.”

He smiled against your skin, rueful. “It takes quite a bit to turn someone against their own core ideals. I can’t speak to how I’d feel about it personally, but I could imagine it being at least somewhat flattering.”

You did not dignify him with a response.

“In all seriousness,” he continued, “I recognize that my position as your captor is self-inflicted. I don’t ever expect you to feel bad for me if you think that’s what I’m trying to do.”

“At least you’re smart enough to figure that much out.”

He nodded. “I’ve thought this very far through.”

“For how long?”

“A year, maybe.” He shrugged. “Long enough to think and disregard the consequences.”

“Long enough to realize you’re acting as my Decarabiun?”

“Long enough to accept and come to terms with it.”

You relaxed further into your arms, shoulders rising closer to your ears. “And your excuse is that I’m mortal? That this is better for me?”

“Exactly.”

He heard you pause, then, “So you understand how awful this must feel? For you to take such a significant portion of my life away?”

His grip around your neck tightened slightly. “I do.”

“And you’re doing it anyway?”

“I am.”

Your voice remained steady. “And you recognize how cruel that is?”

His answer was simple. “Yes.”

Your head fell back, staring up at the ceiling. “You’re a monster.”

He smiled weakly. “I wouldn’t say that.” One hand made its way into your hair, gently tugging at the strands. “I would say that it simply speaks to my desperation.”

You scoffed. “People can be lonely.”

“People only live half a century.” He twisted a piece of it around his finger. “I sleep for great stretches and the time still goes excruciatingly slow. To not be known or loved by anyone— that is a struggle one might endure for a century, not millennia.” He snorted. “I mean, any suffering for that long grows excruciating after a while. Have you ever heard of water torture?”

“You couldn’t find a partner in millennia?”

That got a full laugh out of him. “I am either an archon against my will— too high or holy to be held captive by such things as human desires— or a foolish drunkard too intoxicated by drink or song to be interested in a lover. Why would anyone want to get to know me?”

“I got to know you.”

“And you were one of two exceptions in more than two millennia.” His free hand fell from your shoulders, instead gently gripping the front of your shirt. “The first has been dead for the majority of that time, and what I felt for him cannot be compared to what I feel for you.”

You did not respond.

“It’s hard to describe in terms you will be able to understand how it feels to be unknown for so long.” He leaned his head forward so that his forehead rested on his collarbone. “I imagine that is why you cannot understand why I have done this to you; how could one explain how an excuse as juvenile as, ‘I was lonely,’ could justify what I am taking.” He swallowed, forcing his voice not to waver; connection and communication at this stage were vital, and as effective as his genuine tears would be as a tactic for emotional manipulation it would be seen as much further down the line. “But the loneliness that comes from an eternity of isolation, of both invisibility and an uncomfortably high amount of scrutiny, is enough to make anyone lose themselves. A younger version of myself would be horrified by my actions; now, I understand how I have come to the conclusion that I need as much to not search far and wide for a cure to my immortality.” His voice lowered to just above a whisper. “And in the depths of my despair, so tired and alone and cold that I had come to accept as much as a common ache, you met me, approached me, saw me in a way nobody else had, an act which likely meant very little to you but meant the world to me.” He pursed his lips together, taking slow, deep breaths to suppress the impending tears. “But that must seem silly to you as a mortal being, not because of a lack of intelligence, but because you are physically incapable of comprehending how long and how agonizing millennia are as stretches of time, and I’m sorry for that.” He tugged on the bottom of your shirt, playing absently with the fabric. “And it is because I am so sorry that you are paying for a crime you have not committed that I am trying to let you acclimate, to not force myself onto you, which is as much as I can offer and that is still the bare minimum.”

The two of you sat in silence for a time.

“You could let me go.”

He let out a long sigh, relaxing into you. “I couldn’t. Not now.”

Your voice was soft. “You won’t, you mean.”

“Exactly.”

You lowered the two of you down, first to your elbows, then onto your back. “How long have I been here?”

His legs splayed on either side of you. “Two weeks.”

“Two weeks,” you repeated, dazed. “It’s felt like longer.”

“It always does.”

Your chest rose and fell gently underneath him. “Will I end up like you?”

“Inevitably.”

You propped your head up, resting your head on your arm. “And that’s when I’ll need you.”

“Yes,” he breathed.

Your voice cracked. “That’s horrible.”

His eyes slid shut. “It is. Not that we have a choice, either way.”

There was a chance. He could see it.

#venti x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere barbatos #yandere venti #yandere venti x reader #yandere barbatos x reader #tw kidnap mention #tw kidnapping #tw mention of attempted suicide #tw emotional manipulation #yandere x you #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact venti #shoutout to tomayto to being one of few people to ever ask for a follow up to a thing I’ve written