yan-nyanyan

[yan-nyanyan]

thinking about a soft boy who’s loved by everyone and does no wrong.

thinking about that same soft boy being absolutely obsessed with the one girl who bullies him.

thinking about that soft boy cursing inside when people rescue him from her assault of words.

thinking about the inner turmoil he feels when all he wants is to get berated and dominated by his tormentor but it conflicts with his good boy persona

I need a soft boy lowkey fucked up in love w his bully trope so bad 😭😭

[yan-nyanyan]

thinking about a never-ending darling, with scaramouche the mad genius being your yandere.

Context:

In a dystopian future, humans no longer feared illness or disease. People no longer worried over the unknown nor the deterioration of their loved ones, and the promised vows of “through sickness and health” changed to “through this body and the next,” all because of your lovely boyfriend’s invention.

The genius scientist he was, he discovered a way to clone the human body endlessly, simply by attaining a form of dna to create the body and a device to store the memory. By solving one of humanities most blaring weakness, he amounted such impossible wealth and power that he became entirely untouchable by anyone.

The exception being, you.

See, your boyfriend was absolutely in love with you, to an obsessive point, some people would say. Even throughout the numerous business meetings or travels across the world, he never failed to keep tabs on you, update and contact you.

And despite the fact that your boyfriend quite literally created the most impactful technology ever invented by humanity, you still kept humble and swore not to leech off him. You still tried to find your own way through life, to live through apartments and get a less taxing job.

You even ignored his displays of diamonds and gold— all the endless protests to get you to join him at his side stoutly refused. Stupid, it was. Why refuse the glory the very king offered at your feet?

But it was more than that. It was a matter of keeping a remnant of yourself. You weren’t sure why, but something in you knew that the moment you accepted his deal, it’d be akin to signing your soul to the devil.

So gradually, you found segments of your memory turned blank. You came home unconscious a lot more often than normal, and every morning Scaramouche would send a brief summary of the ‘fun’ he had the day prior.

It didn’t strike you that strange at first. He was your boyfriend. The very man who chased you to the ends of the earth just to see your face. The very man who would turn beet red at the very sensation of his hand brushing against yours.

Maybe if you had paid more attention to the way he was with everyone else, you’d realise that you were the exception, not the norm.

So when you arrived at his house, spotting an exact replica of you lying on the floor and entire cabinets labelled with “darling’s memories” going back to the very first day he discovered how to clone, you knew your life had already been over many years ago.

It only proved true when you felt a gun pressed to the small of your waist, the resounding “bang!” almost deafening the searing pain at your back.

“Hah… how unfortunate. We were going so well! Don’t hate me too much, darling. Our love is eternal… through this body and the next.”

And so he continued, arriving at your apartment with you at his back and a message of how much fun he had lingering beneath his fingertips. He parted with a soft kiss to your lips, nose and forehead before leaving you some painkillers and cool water.

“I love you and only you. I’ll make sure this time is perfect.”

[yan-nyanyan]

I would rather die: a short modern scaramouche au

TW: suicidal thoughts and actions, dark themes, angst, yandere, major themes of depression

a/n: honestly this piece is HELLA angst and really depressive so if you’re in a bad mental state i highly recommend not reading this. Song recc: streetcar- daniel caesar

It was peaceful.

The city night life never failed to amaze you. Bright, incandescent lights of gorgeous golds sparkling across the expanse of the skyline and city streets. Faint car horns and idle chatter amongst the neon signs glittering, alluring the next unassuming drunk and blurred to the saints.

You loved it when night befell the city. It revealed the beating heart hidden beneath layers of muscle and skin, hidden beneath smooth concrete and glass, hidden beneath ambiguous tones and words. The city night life revealed the pure, unadulterated emotions of the people, you concluded, and perhaps that’s why you found yourself where you were now.

A breeze chillingly cold licking at your cheeks, coiling within your hair and kissing at your limbs. Your clothes shifted in its wind, the silent ruffling deafened by the ferocious beating of your heart.

Beneath you was the city that you’d personified oh so much. Sprawled beneath you— welcoming, beckoning—as if asking you to pierce through its surface like a tautly drawn arrow before the fierce release, embedding yourself deep within its concrete skin so that you’d never leave.

And you suppose you never would.

You were twelve stories high; legs dangling precariously from a solid ledge, somehow taunting to the perilous drop but centimetres away. The height was dizzying to say the least, making you feel like a slip of paper to the wind; ready to twist and fall at the slightest inconvenience.

But to be honest, it wasn’t the drop which caused you nausea.

Prior to your act of bravery, Scaramouche had finally left you alone. Hours of being dolled up in the finest of silks and jewellery, makeup painted across your features, hair spiffed and coiled, only to part once you’d both arrived at the venue.

“A short party for a client, don’t stray.” He whispered into your ear, his presence all encompassing as he pressed an anything-but-chaste kiss to your collarbone.

It stunned you, at first. Scaramouche once promised that he’d gouge out the eyes and sever the limbs of any man who so much as laid their sights upon you. He had also promised that you’d never be able to talk with anyone but himself, lest they have their throat ripped from their skin.

Yet here you were— surrounded by so many people, wealthy and powerful, and he said nothing. You knew deep within your bones that this was but a test, that the moment you’d part your pretty lips to speak, he’d insert himself between the faint wisps of conversation and lead you away. You also knew that the moment you make haste for the entrance he’d end the party with little more than a bloodfest.

Scaramouche had broken your soul down so much that even when gifted the opportunity to try— an opportunity you would’ve leaped at in the beginning stages of your capture— you simply closed your eyes and waited.

And yet, despite it all, you found yourself staring at the solid smooth of a door. You didn’t even remember the period of time prior, all you could see was the glossed, embellished handle and the wonder of where it led.

And that’s where you were now.

Perhaps, you thought to yourself, death would be the better option. You had to be honest with yourself; Scaramouche would never let you free. There was no feasible way in which you could possibly escape his feral claws; he’d snap your legs, he’d close down airlines, hell— he’d burn down the world if you left him.

But what could he do if you… died? You had thought about it plenty times before, obviously. Living as a captive forced to receive the love of a man who didn’t even know what love was made you contemplate things you never once thought about.

Choosing to die, however, gave you the ability of choice— an ability you knew you’d never again retain. And maybe that’s all it really came down to. Going out in a final, brilliant blaze of fury, an act of resistance to the oppressive forces which constricted your life.

An act of freedom.

The memories of your past with Scaramouche began to spur you on more; the fall seeming less of a crushing impact with the ground but more of a thrilling free fall in which you bask amongst the sweet, sparkling lights. A sense of euphoria began to fill your veins at the feeling of power which overcame you, a power that you thought had been so thoroughly torn and shredded by his hands.

“This is it.” You thought.

Never again would you have to live a life worse than death. Never again would you have to fall victim to his wrath. Never again would you feel less of a human and more of a hollow shell.

Your shoes clattered against the ground as you tossed them to the side, followed shortly by the heavy jewellery a hue of gold that mimicked the sea of city lights before you.

“This is it.” You reaffirmed.

Standing now, you could feel the full weight of your actions crawling along your back. Whether or not you jumped, you were in for a world of pain. Scaramouche would no doubt see this as an act of rebellion and attempt of escape, words of sweet nothings and idle conversation entirely futile.

You don’t know why, but you tossed a final glance over your shoulder. There was no reason to look back— you knew that— and yet, you felt a strong compelling to do so.

And no one was there.

Smiling ambiguously to yourself, you let yourself take in the soft ambience before taking that fateful step.

“Goodbye.”

It was peaceful. You found yourself rapidly regaining and piecing together the pieces of you that had been once lost. The pieces that cracked and shattered at every moment shared with Scaramouche. You found yourself as the person you had once been; strong and beautiful. The absolute emptiness which beckoned before you had felt more welcoming than any embrace you received, and you found a strange sense of solace in that.

And as the air began to pick up its velocity and lash against your ears, you found yourself viciously ripped back to reality.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

His arms were tight. So tight. So impossibly tight you found yourself at a loss of air. Chin tucked into the divot between your jaw and neck, you could feel his breath heavy and stuttered in a rare moment being caught off guard. Startled; his chest pressed against your chest allowed you to feel the violent beating of his heart and the strength in his hold telling of the adrenaline in his veins.

“I… I cant believe you would—” He started, gulping down the myriad of words at his disposal and trying to refocus his spiralling vision.

The way his voice trembled was unlike anything you’d ever heard before. It was raw and undefined— vulnerable, you identified, and Scaramouche had always made sure he appeared as anything but.

His grip around your waist was iron tight as he pulled you closer, settling on no words rather than screaming the many that usually ensued.

Yet, it made you furious.

You felt absolutely enraged at the way how, no matter what, he always took everything which made you you away.

“Are you serious?”

You were so, impossibly mad. Your tone so livid and raw that even Scaramouche flinched. “You made me live in absolute hell for five years— five! And you think you even have the right to think that?”

You knew you should stop here. Knew that you should stop and curl deeper within his arms in a rare moment of skinship that didn’t end up with you pressed into the silk sheets. Knew that if you proclaimed regret that he’d soften his punishment and you’d at least survive. But you couldn’t even think of saying those words. For you didn’t regret anything, not a moment.

“Honestly, I would rather die than to live another second with you.”

Scaramouche was wordless. If he had anything to say before, he had nothing to say now. How could he, when the very catalyst of his life confessed a truth so strikingly raw that even he could not refute it?

The absolute fervid anger which scorched your lungs manifested into the tears which blurred your vision; tears which portrayed your hatred, your pain, your sadness. It was such a complex moment of emotion that even you found yourself at a loss for words.

And despite everything, Scaramouche’s grip never faltered. It still felt all so possessive and rough, somehow even more-so. However, a revelation befell you; a revelation saying that what kept his hold so tight was not that of obsession—

—It was fear.

It was the fear of losing you, and that, had he arrived but a second later, you would’ve been lost to him. ‘He was a selfish man to the very end.’ you thought bitterly. A man of many failings he was, but letting death separate you was never going to be one.

The moonlight felt patronising at this point. Once a beacon to your salvation now a soft ambience to your lover’s embrace. You didn’t have anything to say now— had nothing left to feel. You felt nothing when he dug his fingers deeper into your side and pulled you impossibly closer, felt nothing when you felt a dampness at your shoulder.

You still felt nothing when you heard him break down and sob, “I’m sorry,” over a thousand times into the crevices of your skin.

Nothing. It made you laugh. Perhaps everything always meant nothing. You glanced up at the night sky, staring up at the twinkling stars, at the ghost of clouds illuminated by the moon, and smiled.

‘truly, I would rather die.’

#genshin impact #yandere #genshin #angst #Kermit suicide moment #depression #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer #tw yandere #tw suicidal #tw obsessive behavior

[yan-nyanyan]

Has this been made before? 

[yan-nyanyan]

if we're not doing puzzles after we kiss it's not me its you

[yan-nyanyan]

scaramouche: sickly

———————————————————————————————————

A/N: this is really really twisted and i wanted to explore a more sick theme of a yandere. this is very easy to trigger people so please read at your own discretion

TW: bodily harm, yandere, sick shit tbh jakakak

UM i mean it is all GN so ig that’s a positive in this twisted ass piece…

recommend song: [free by 6lack] and [love me love me love me by kikuo]

———————————————————————————————————

something about him has always seemed sickly to you.

his eyes were just a shade too dark, reminiscent of liminal spaces; unsettling and somewhat abnormal. his tone was just a shade too fair; a paleness that bordered on grey and shimmered translucent. his skin was just too smooth, like an artisan carved away at pure white jade till they grew mad at the chase for perfection.

yet, you could never really place a finger on what exactly disturbed you.

maybe it was the way he constantly watched you, his gaze shaded by long, pretty lashes as they stared unblinking. or perhaps it was his perfectly sculptured features.

despite it all, you always had a distaste for the man called scaramouche. and, in time, it only proved more true.

when he first arrived to your village with an entire entourage of fatui ensue, your elders hardly knew what to do. they were a notorious organisation that lingered like evil spirits ready to snap and devour the next victim soft enough to bend to their pressure, and guiding it all was but a small man dressed in fancy, ornate attire as he dipped his hat and murmured his name.

‘scaramouche’, they called him.

they asked for but a few humble abodes in which they could rest their weary bones until they could continue their campaign, in which the council hardly had the luxury to refuse as weapons shifted beneath gloved palms.

you were but a farmer when it all occurred— face sunburnt and skin tawny from hours under the Inazuman sun. dirt etching into your pores and the thick stench of dirt and earth clung to your skin everlasting. something within you stirred the ‘heart’ of the Belladeer during his stay, and it was then when he decided to make a move.

he wanted to make a deal, and this was the fatui’s expertise.

his words were sweetened with the thickest honeys and finest sugars as he lured you and your village into his trap—his persuasion laced with toxins. he promised only the freshest of oats, the healthiest of cattle, the most fertile soils. and in the next blink, you found yourself bound with red strings as you signed at papers, tightening with each arch and swoop of your signature.

“do not worry about them, i promise they will live a safe and happy life by my side as my significant other.”

and when you went back that night, pressed into the silk sheets of his luxurious bed, his lips mouthed the words—

“You’re mine.”

he grabbed a glittering potion at the stand of your shared bed, took a giant swig and lowered himself— bated breath escaping as his lips pressed against yours. the kiss was anything but romantic as he opened his mouth; tongue sticking out somewhat erotically as he let the liquid drool from his lips down your throat. despite the cough hacking away at your lungs from the sudden intrusion, you couldn’t shake the feeling of absolute coldness his body embedded into your skin.

It felt like kissing a doll.

after a short minute, he lifted himself up and swallowed, eyes darkened to black, watching intensely at the string of saliva connecting each pair of lips. you couldn’t help but notice the tinge of red staining his pale cheeks, equal parts disgusted at the male for what he’d done and the flavour of whatever that liquid was.

and after a few minutes passed, you felt yourself at a loss of feeling over your body. the binds he’d wrapped so tightly and intricately against the soft of your wrists and ankles no longer hurt, neither did the small jewels of his outfit as he pressed himself deeper into you, rather feeling like a hollow ache.

when you noticed your vision turning blurry—the man before you turning into a blob of whites, purples and blues—his voice resonated around you.

“You’re mine.”

something glittered in the corner of your eyes, and before you knew it, a dull ache formed at your knees.

“first, i will sever your patellar tendons to take away your ability to walk. now you can only depend on me to be your legs.”

‘…what?’

you tried to thrash about— tried to protest with words and movement alike. but no matter what you did, he didn’t halt the track of his blade.

your mind was running absolutely haywire, blood running cold and yet still somewhat blissed out and unbelieving of it all. surely someone wouldn’t be so twisted to do something like this. surely a human wouldn’t do this to someone they loved. it wasn’t until you felt another hollow ache in your left leg did the thought come to you.

was this… person… even human?

your ears now the only sense you could rely on, could only hear the sound of his breathing fall more haggard and slow— heavy like he was endlessly chasing his breath. then, a small noise escaped his lips. A groan. the sound of it all made you completely sick to your stomach; the vulgar taste of bile building up at the back of your throat.

you didn’t get any time to consider what just happened to you as his weight shifted, sliding up your body and throwing his legs to either side of your waist and hovering above you.

“second,” he whispered, dry and coarse as his pretty hands wrapped along the soft lines of your elbows. “I’ll snap your arms so that you’ll rely on only me to feed you— only i can help you.”

you were in a state of utter ignorance at this point. to be honest, you weren’t sure if you were still stuck in a certain nightmare. you were sleepy in the ride to the belladeer’s estate, so perhaps you had taken a small nap and this was all just a bad dream.

even as a more painful discomfort gnawed at your bones, you still believed in your made up stories. what else were you supposed to do?

“ah… of course you would cry.”

you didn’t even realise you were sobbing so heavily until you felt a cool sensation wipe continuously at your cheeks— the blob slowly morphing into a figure as he dried your eyes.

and then, you felt sick.

his smile was so, so, utterly disturbing. teeth completely straight and sparkling white, twisted in such an animalistic manner you were sure that he’d shed his beautiful outer layer and reveal the devil. it didn’t help as you noticed how deep the hues of pink dusted across his cheeks were— harbouring a sort of innocence that completely betrayed his actions.

you tried to move your body once more, a futile attempt to get anything in your body to respond. but nothing happened. you tried to scream— a scream so loud it’d tear at your lungs and shred your vocal cords to ribbons, a scream so loud that your ear drums would burst and your heart would pound.

all you got in return was a low moan as your tongue lolled out of your mouth, eyes glazed over.

you were throughly defeated.

not even scaramouche could halt the stream of tears rolling down your cheeks as he tended to the bloody mess at your joints, dressing them in the most expensive salves and bandages. not even scaramouche could halt the tears from wetting the lavish silks he slipped your limbs into. but frankly, he didn’t care. this was all just part of the process, and eventually you would come to love this life of yours he prepared for you.

because, you see, scaramouche saw the troubles you went through.

those days where you brushed him off as a strange, unblinking man were actually days he analysed you the deepest. analysing you down the very core of your being. the world didn’t deserve you tending to its soil, nor did it deserve your attention. in fact— nothing did.

nothing, except him.

‘he loved you’, he concluded, and he couldn’t stand seeing you around other people— other… things. so the only plausible option he could see was entrapping you through marriage, in which he could keep you to himself in the deepest corners of his estate. he also concluded that you didn’t need the ability to use arms or legs.

see, scaramouche didn’t mind carrying you wherever you needed, and if you acted bratty, then you were simply left abandoned until you begged and begged— eyes full with tears as you pressed your forehead deeper and deeper into the floor. after all, that’s all you could do.

everything about him made you disgusted after that. his attitude, his mannerisms, his perfect looks, his love.

maybe, you thought, this was when you both realised this weakness became your only strength

after all, he loves you.

no matter how opulent the jewels he laid beneath your feet were, no matter how extravagant the necklaces and bracelets crafted from finest golds and silvers became, you never felt satisfied. even the most beautiful portraits and paintings of all seven nations never satiated your desire to see the real blue skies. even when scaramouche laid the gnosis of an archon upon your palms, head lowered and lips desperately brushing against the apex of your wrist, your heart didn’t move.

none of it mattered anymore. he couldn’t punish you, for all you wanted was death. as the years went by, the recklessness in his actions only increased. he would do anything and everything to bring even a flicker of emotion onto your face, he would let you brake and rebuild him if it meant seeing your eyes show even the slightest hints of happiness.

“i love you. i love you. i love you.” he panted, eyes dazed and chest heaving as he clawed at your silken robes.

as you glanced down at the man, watching as he grabbed fistfuls of your kimono, you couldn’t help but scrunch your nose at it all.

it was sickly.

#genshin impact #yandere #genshin #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #gn reader #twisted #tw nsfw #tw noncon #tw yandere #this is HIGHKEY hella twisted i am so sorry #tw bodily harm

[yan-nyanyan]

April will be filled with joy.

April will be filled with love.

April will be filled with peace.

April will be filled with trust.

April will be filled with kindness.

April will be filled with miracles.

April will be filled with hope.

[yan-nyanyan]

Genshin boys: stupid texting habits

starring: diluc, kazuha, scaramouche, venti, childe, zhongli, xiao, chongyun, itto, kaeya

~~~

diluc

okay but like, we already know. proper punctuation, perfect spelling, absolutely no errors and literally puts paragraphs in his texts if sending a particularly long message.

writes his messages like it’s a fucking letter;

“Dear <name>,”

LITERALLY ANNOYING BC HE FIXES YOUR SPELLING AND GRAMMAR TOO.

you’ll send a message n he’ll be like “**you’re** not your.”

USES GIFS LMAOOOOoooo

kazuha

100% incoherent typer

what i mean by this is, he’ll probably type random shit and even auto correct cant fix it so it just looks like a random jumble of letters

… he expects you to understand what he wrote

he also probably sexts a lot if you’re dating but like, in a really cheesy way that just doesn’t make anything wet

…. probably RP writes **snuggles into you**

scaramouche

constantly sends old, irrelevant memes.

…gets upset if you call him out on it

expects your messages to be somewhat grammar coherent and you can’t use lingo or acronyms bc man literally has no idea what any of that means

if you’re on discord, he won’t edit his text if he spells something wrong or wants to clarify something

(adding on).. instead he’ll just continuously write under it with asterisks to either spell the word correctly or reword what he wanted to say 😒

venti

not really “stupid” but he NEVER uses emojis.

uses “:D” or “>:(“ or the japanese keyboard emotes and it gets SO frustrating sometimes bc he uses it TOO much.

the only emoji he uses is “🥺”

unironically uses uwu and owo

literally spams “!!!!” like he’ll die if he doesn’t use an exclamation mark every other word

never uses full stops and uses “,,,,” instead of starting a new sentence

childe

unironically uses “🥺” and “🙊” “🙈” “😼” (+ other cat emoji face) bc he thinks they make him look cute

spams you with memes that you regretfully laugh at

(If on discord) LITERALLY DOESNR GIVE A SHIT AND PINGS YOU WHENEVER HE WANTS

(+ bonus!) he’s actually fun to talk to sometimes tho bc he’s always on top of the current lingo and memes (🎳), also always knows how to keep a text convo going so ur never in the awkward silent texting position

zhongli

nah so like.. this man DOESNT text.

why?? bc he found out about the voice message feature 🙃

literally sends you rows of voice messages at max time instead of texting u and it gets so annoying

sends the most cringiest old man gifs as a reaction reply to your messages. whether it’s a kitten being cute, a clip of a talk show host nodding or whatever, it’s literally so off putting and it always makes u put ur phone down and think about life.

xiao

dry. texter

says “lol” as a reply and expects you to somehow continue the conversation after rhat

don’t be upset!! our boy literally just doesn’t know how to communicate

UNIRONICALLY USES “K.”

the only emoji he uses is the thumbs up emoji and it’s just his first response to any text message

chongyun

he is a “love hearter.”

what i mean by that, is that 90% of the time he’s going to end the convo abruptly by hearting a message of yours and moving on

is kind of bad at texting.. like it’s always kind of awkward

… adding onto that, he’s like too sweet, if that makes sense. like, you can never have proper funny messages bc the vibes are not it and u feel like u gotta be more proper and nice.

itto

types in all caps too much.

it’s fun at first but it licherally gets to a point where it hurts your eyes

cant keep on one topic and keeps messaging about randomly related things which gets SO annoying, esp if you’re venting or he is.

“NAHH NO WAY SHE DID THAT.”

“WAIT SHES THE ONE WHO FELL DOWN RHAT ONE TIME YE??”

“OH WHAT ABOUT HER FRIEND WHO (xyz…)”

“YE HER FRIEND IS THE ONE WHO’S FRIEND HAS A CHOCLAHE LABROADOOR”

kaeya

out of all the boys, he’s the most fun to talk to

uses memes sparingly and emojis

the only fault of his when messaging is he’s wildly inappropriate at the exact incorrect time

also somehow finds the weirdest non-human porn gifs 🎳

AND CHEESY ASF

mans has no idea how to reply to a vent sesh over text,,, you’ll be pouring your life out when u finally feel vulnerable n he’ll just be like

“cool it 😏”

#genshin impact #fiction #kaeya #itto #Childe #Zhongli #venti #chongyun #kazuha #Diluc #xiao #meme #comedy #Genshin

[yan-nyanyan]

GENSHIN BOYS: the moment they realised they really loved you:

Starring: Kamisato Ayato, Childe, Arataki Itto

[a/n: idk why i felt really wholesome but i felt like i needed to write something cutesy. Also like, lots of writing and long scenarios LMAO. I really cbf proofreading this but eventually i will… probably]

recommended song to listen to while reading: let’s fall in love for the night cover by junny!!

**its all gn so all you lovelies should be able to enjoy this :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kamisato Ayato:

It was a tiring day; the paperwork he had to deal with seemed endless, the heavy layers of fatigue nestled into his weary joints and creased his brows, hand aching and constant readjustments to his pen hold. Night had settled across Inazuma, the faint flickering of sunsietta hues cooled down to shades of lavender and he wanted nothing more than to sleep.

‘knock knock’

“Come in.”

The sound of pen to paper continued despite the intrusion, his stare unmoving as he signed and signed, paying no mind to the new presence in his room. Kamisato Ayato was entirely caught up in the repetitive action of reading the scripts and making adjustments—so enraptured by the work that he hadn’t noticed the figure near his own, kneeling at his side and reaching out with a tender gaze.

“Ayato..”

Gentle fingers ran over his shoulders, sliding off his thick kimono and running across the expanse of his shoulders, palms smooth and soft. Hands worked at the tension between stiff muscles, easing the stress he had gathered from being hunched and stilled in such a position for hours on end.

You let him continue his work; no endless nagging about how he should get sleep, but also letting your presence and support be known by just doing what you could. For the next few hours, deep into the still of midnight, you silently accompanied him. Easing his brows with light fingertips, combing back his hair and tucking it behind reddened ears, refilling ink as it ran low. It was a wordless encounter, but just the fact you didn’t need to say anything to keep the amiable atmosphere— to relax his soul, to know what he needed— it made something click within the him; the Head of the Yashiro Commission.

And that dawn, when the silky strands of coiling moonlight changed to pink pale light and milky orange hues, Ayato came to the realisation.

He could never love anyone as much as he loved you.

——————

Tartaglia [childe]

Life as a Fatui Harbinger was obviously one filled with perilous endeavours and countless hardships.

The supreme authority, the egregious amount of mora, the boundless amount of respect; it was a dreamy position for those in the Fatui, bound to the realities of earth only by the constant risk of your own life. For Tartaglia though, this only added to the thrill and pleasure of it all.

So when you and Childe made it more official—his endless showering of expensive silks, artesian grade brocades, and restaurant reservations finally accepted—you began to realise the cons of it.

The words “Harbinger’s Girlfriend” didn’t impact you initially; the taste of it on your tongue almost sweet at the prestige accompanying it. It wasn’t until a few months in when you found the words tasting strange and sour in your mouth; constantly monitored by uniformed men and ‘vision’ holders, limited to ventures across Liyue, marked with heavy prejudice and subject to many judgements. And it only stockpiled when your boyfriend would stumble his way home to your temporary stay; eyes lidded, skin bruised and torn, blood still warm and skin slick with sweat, your hands fumbling at a towel to wipe away the dampness of it all.

And so, after a year, Childe was fully expecting you to break up with him.

He had first handedly seen the horrors you bore witness to just by associating with him, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle subjecting you to it anymore. You were a light to him, a beacon of warmth which guided him home in the darkness, an all encompassing heat that warmed his chilled bones. But he was a loving man, and if letting something go meant better for them, he’d do it.

It was a tension-filled day; the rain hampering any outings you were finally allowed to do, the constant ticks of a clock echoing somewhere in the background, and your clothes seemed to fall in all the wrong places. You weren’t sure why today felt particularly irritating, but it sure as hell was, and it took all your willpower to not snap at anything.

Childe was nonchalant as he walked in; twirling a sharpened arrow between his fingers, harsh whistling to a random tune he heard some Liyuen kids singing. You ignored him at first, unsure if you’d be able to handle his teasing voice as he prodded at your clear annoyance like he did every other time. But when you heard a barely audible “tsk” escape his lips as he scratched himself with the clearly dangerous object, something inside you snapped.

You stomped over to the Snezhnayan man and pulled him forward by his collar— his blue eyes falling half lidded and murky.

‘It’s coming.’ He thought to himself.

“Ajax.” You seethed, steam pushing through your teeth as you clenched at his collar so hard your knuckles turned white.

“You always make me worried about you— every single second of the day I’m without you, all I can think about is if you’re okay. Are you eating well, are you sleeping well, are you tending to your injuries? So when you come home like that,” You released him from your pull, the sudden lack of tension sending him stumbling, feet stuttering to support his weight.

“… It annoys me how careless you are when I spend so much of my time worrying about you.”

You were met with a strange silence— something you rarely had when you were constantly surrounded by the Fatui and this talkative red-head. So when you finally gathered some sort of composure to look at your Harbinger once more, you were completely taken aback at what greeted you.

“…Childe?”

Childe’s cheeks were flushed a cardinal shade of red— a red so deep that it almost matched the shade of reds in his garb. His eyes were bright and glittering, a complete contrast to his normally shaded eyes, and he stared at you with a strange look; rapidly blinking and lips parted. His breath then came laboured and haggard, his hand holding his cheek as he tried to regain his own composure.

You weren’t upset at him because you were sick of it all, ready to break it off and live a new life— no, you were upset because you were worried about him. And for some reason, this set his heart beating so fast he couldn’t breathe; a lump caught in his throat and a tingle at his chest.

“I.. I think I really love you.”

————————

Arataki Itto

Itto and you were… a pair, to say the least.

Whenever the two of you went out, it always seemed comical to an extent. Whether it was due to the fact a clown like Itto seemed so head over heels for someone, or the fact his hard muscles next to your soft lines contrasted too much to reasonably stand, it was always met with grins.

His confession to you was comical too; a grandiose setting down the main road of inazuma, blocking all adventurers from reaching their next batch of commissions and lackeys lined like soldiers off to war. The tension in the air had set everyone on edge that day; a bunch of gangsters being explicit in the very town just a road across from the shogunate and their army itself; the very heart of order and justice in Inazuma. But the Arataki gang did not care in the slightest— eyes hardened and postures straight.

The Oni himself was waiting at the end of the road, a bouquet of haphazardly picked flowers bunched within his hand, unconsciously squeezing at the stems so hard even the petals turned white at the force of it. You had told him that you were just going to hand in some documents to the Kujou clan and that you’d be out soon, and Itto saw nothing wrong with this spontaneous get-up of a confession.

Well, to be fair, this wasn’t really a first time confession and realisation of his feelings. Itto already knew he cared for you deeply, to a point where he saw you as an extension of himself. He was always boastful of you and everything you did, even if you did nothing. In fact, if you had done nothing, it became all the more embarrassing as he began boasting about your endless beauty. All he knew in conversations was you and onikabuto, and it actually got to a point where he had talked so much about you to others, you’d get random strangers coming up to you and conversing about things you didn’t even know about yourself!

So he wasn’t concerned at all with the timing— he loved you and you loved him so he was just counting down the days anyways.

You walked down the makeshift pathway down towards your boyfriend(????), and as you stood before him beneath the Sakura tree, you noticed a blaring red pimple on his chin. Itto had told you repeatedly that he wanted you to use your less “pointy” nails to pop it for him once, but you always disagreed. In this moment however, something compelled you to give it a try.

Itto was currently pouring his heart out to you as you stared blankly at the pimple beneath his lips, his cheeks flushed red as he told you things he once swore he’d keep locked away in his heart. He told you about the way you captured his heart from your first meeting, to the way he adored your stumbling figure when you got caught staring at his abs a little to long. He told you about the little things you did when you were nervous, and the little things you did which made his heart flutter.

If the citizens of Inazuma didn’t know any better, they’d think this was a proposal.

Just as he was about to finish paragraph 6 of 13, a resounding “pop” filled the air.

Standing there, washed in the summer glow of blue skies and pale Sakura leaves, stood you and Itto. Your hands fell flat on his jaw, palm nursing the sharp of it all as your thumbs twiddled near his lips. What should’ve been a romantic confession scene was quickly filled with laughter as everyone stared at you and the freshly popped pimple on his chin.

Despite the howling laughter surrounding you two, Itto felt something stir within his heart. The fact that you were so unashamed to do something so intimate with him in public sent his heart aflutter, and the fact you didn’t seem to care about anyone else— the only thing in those dreamy eyes of yours being him and him alone— it made him stop in his tracks.

Out of everything you had done together, all the countless nights under star speckled skies, ventures across the Inazuma terrain, or antics of the Arataki gang— nothing compared to this moment for Itto.

And so, after that whole fiasco, you two were always known as a more comical pair. Despite all this, however, everyone knew just how deep Itto’s affection ran for you, and how much of a fool he would be just to please you. It was actually… really romantic, they realised. Arataki Itto might’ve realised just how much he loved you in that moment, but the entirety of Inazuma also realised then, the Head of the Arataki Gang was absolutely in love with you.

#Arataki #Itto #Childe #tartaglia #Ayato #Fatui #romance #scenario #Genshin #Genshin impact #x reader #GN

[yan-nyanyan]

//non-intercourse forced orgasm hcs literally no one asked for but I’m forcing upon you anyway, oral + rimming + fingering, some mild bondage, scent/taste kinks

I made a post a long time ago about being eaten out against your will and it has caused me brainrot ever since and I have been thinking about it again so let me present the fact that each boy does the whole forcing unwilling orgasms/eating you out to the brink of exhaustion thing a little bit differently.

  —-

Venti is, as always, a nasty lil perv in his own way, likes the idea of literally anything conceivable, especially anything that involves stuffing his face near any part of your body.

He chooses to interrupt at an inopportune moment while you’re working, mumbling something about stress relief you can’t quite hear because he’s already being muffled by the proximity of his mouth to your flesh. He takes that opportunity while you’re busy, thinking that way you’re more likely to welcome the interruption and thus allow it – after all, that is his specialty, looking for windows of opportunity to pressure and guilt his way into what he wants, after all he’s not a forceful person you know, he would never do something you don’t want… or at least, something you strongly reject… but your subtle little no, wait– and the way you try to scoot the chair back is just momentary hesitation, like everyone has, it’s more words that come tumbling out of your mouth as a natural reaction to surprise rather than what you actually mean. And the sad look he gets on his face when he tilts his head up and makes a soft hm? is just giving you the opportunity to clarify that it’s okay, not an attempt to guilt you into feeling bad for rejecting him.

So he just sort of kneels down on his knees, grabs the sides of your thighs and pulls you closer. Unfortunately, the fact that you’re sitting down makes the angle a little difficult to reach everything, but he makes up for the lack of available space with enthusiasm, running his tongue over your clit to the best of his ability. Poor thing cranes his neck so hard it hurts afterward, but he doesn’t notice at the time because he’s too high on adrenaline and hormones to feel anything other than how hard his cock is throbbing. Thankfully, the position makes it easy to get himself off too.

—-

Gorou has impulsive urges due to the smell. He can smell you from a good distance away and he hates when it’s in public bc the only thing he wants to do is just bury his face between your legs, so he just sits there with a frustrated look on his face and his ears all flattened to his head until he can finally get you alone. And when he does, it’s immediate, just pushing you down without a word – he tends to get nonverbal like that when he’s operating more on instinct than logic.

Likewise, his ears kinda flatten back when he’s going at it, his tail wags back and forth, not that he realizes he’s doing either. He likes to really lick, just running his tongue over and over in long lapping motions. Equally subconscious and unintentional is the sounds – if you try to pull back, press your elbows into the ground and pull yourself away, it earns a high-pitched whine… or if he’s really into it at the moment, the slightest, softest throaty noise, just short of a growl, as he follows your movements and shuffles forward. Latches his fingers onto your hips, too, he doesn’t mean to hurt you, but if you’re pulling back he may dig the nails into your skin without realizing… sorry.

The unfortunate thing is that the longer it goes on, whether you like it or not, he gets more and more encouraged the wetter you get – the more there is for him to lap up, that is. The same is true of your squirming, it lights up that predator sense in his head, that the more something struggles, the harder you have to grab it.

  —-

Childe is aggressive about it, certainly one of the most truly forceful rather than guilting or pressuring you into it. Has to literally throw you onto the bed, lock your hips down to the bed with force so hard it’ll bruise. As always, he likes it if you struggle, and that much more so if it’s also a matter of you being self-conscious and embarrassed of the whole thing. It’s really adorable, especially to tease you about it, he likes to alternate between playing dumb type of teasing and being bluntly vulgar for how it makes you squirm. What, you don’t like him having his face so close? What are you so worried about? Don’t worry, your pussy’s so cute, of course he likes it.

Likewise, he mocks you bad when you start giving in and raising your hips up to meet his mouth. Cute. It’s the word he always uses, the one that makes your face hot with humiliation and your chest burn with anger, and he knows that full well. You really put up so much of a fight, when it’s so obvious you’re into this, just look at how you’re rolling your hips now, not even the slightest sense of shame huh? Okay, well, some shame, the little tears in your eyes and the way you whimper and the faces you make when he says so make that clear. You’re just too prideful, really, he’s working on getting you out of that. He talks while he does it, a throaty, low voice, a voice filled with heavy breaths as he speaks between lapping his tongue over your clit, makes up for the time he talks with his fingers inside you, curling in a way that makes you shiver. He draws attention to your reactions too – what was that? Aw….

And each movement, each little gasp for breath, each twitch and whimper, it’ll all be used against you after, too, in a description of exactly how you came undone under him that he can use against you whenever you decide you’ve forgotten how things work between you two. Don’t you remember how you sounded? Yeah, you were all– He always gets that glint in his eye when he smirks, right before he makes those obnoxiously overexaggerated noises, a fake-high-pitch voice, that sort of mockery that makes your chest feel tight and your eyes water. The worst part of it all is, of course, that he’s entirely right.

He also likes the after-effects you leave on him, especially if you’re at a point where he can leave you unbound and you know better than to fight too much. Your hands involuntary motions mess up his hair, sometimes you scratch the back of his neck or his shoulders. He likes pointing it out to you afterwards, a humiliating aww, see what you did? and chuckles as he lets you get an eyeful of how badly you ruffled his hair or the pink marks your nails left on his skin.

  Keep reading

#hello hello have this <3 #i could not get it out of my head and needed a break from the profile format so pls enjoy

[yan-nyanyan]

KAMISATO AYATO: the way he loves.

//WARNING: yandere and nsfw mentions//

——————————✿

you never really understood why thoma was so concerned once you finally made it official with the head of the Yashiro Commision— Kamisato Ayato.

Well, you knew some reasons why. Kamisato Ayato was a very busy man, who probably didn’t have much time to spare for entertainment. Thoma was a dear friend of yours, so it made sense why he was so concerned over little things like that.

But every so often, you’d catch Thoma conversing with Ayato in your peripherals; his blonde brows knitted together and a deep frown creasing his lips. You usually passed it off as one of the many troubling incidents the Yashiro Commission had to deal with, hearing words like “abnormal” and “obsessive”. At the mention of such words, Ayato seemed different, his gaze hardened and fingers twitching at the the hems of his gloves, itching towards his blade.

Kamisato Ayato was a busy man, but he was loving. His voice was mellow and filled with nothing but the sweetest honey as he called you. His shoulders broad as they stretched out and pulled you towards him, wrapping you up in his fine silken clothes adorning his body. The same feeling sending shimmering waves of heat to your cheeks as he pressed you into the silk sheets of his bed, knees hanging off those very shoulders as he delved deeper between your thighs.

His lips were candy as they moulded against yours, hovering above warm, reddened skin as he brushed soft kisses against your fluttering lashes, the length of your neck, the smooth of your stomach. It all felt too sweet and addictive, your hands wrapped against the pale blue of his hair, tugging when he got too much.

Kamisato Ayato wasn’t a perfect man, but he was more than enough for you.

So, you couldn’t understand when Thoma came pounding on your door one grey morning, the distant booming of thunder striking as the rain came pouring down. Despite the harsh rainfall drenching his clothes an even more cardinal shade of red, despite the rain glueing his once bright strands of hair to his skin, despite the gash tearing at the edge of his cheek, Thoma fell before you.

“Please, don’t go. Don’t go to Ayato’s home. You— please, I— I can’t let you give yourself up to someone like that.”

You still remember the way his panting sounded; the haggard rasp to each exhale, the stuttering of his breath as he focused in and out of conscious.

“Please, he’s dangerous. He’s not—He, I’m— what I’m trying to say is he’s not good for you!”

You couldn’t understand Thoma. And you never got the chance to.

That day, Kamisato Ayato immediately moved you into your shared home. He dismissed Thoma’s strange behaviour as his recent admitting of a blossoming crush he had fostered for you, which only grew to jealousy as the consummation between you and Ayato came closer. You didn’t see Thoma for a few weeks after that, and when he did return, he hardly spoke to you. His eyes were glazed over, and he flinched at the very sound of your voice.

Kamisato Ayato was a busy man, but he seemed to be more busy than usual.

After moving in with the head of the Yashiro Commission, you quickly found yourself at a loss of things to do. Money, comfortability and food came as naturally to you as breathing, and his time away for work felt even longer than before. He organised embroidery classes, cooking classes, and more which formed you into a perfect housewife. You weren’t entirely happy at the lack of anything more entertaining to do, but you appreciated his hard work so of course you obeyed his wants for you.

This slowly extended into limiting your social life to those to the Yashiro commission, and then, the maids themselves. It had been almost half a year into your marriage by now, and you were already so accustomed to being drenched in rich, silk fabrics and expensive oils that even neighbours no longer recognised who you were becoming. Unaware to you, you were known by everyone as Kamisato Ayato’s beautiful doll. Only speaking when told by him, only being dressed by clothes picked by him, only blinking when ordered by him.

You were his and only his.

After three years had passed in your relationship, you came to a realisation. The only people you were allowed to talk to was your personal maid, Ayaka, and your husband himself. People in the outside world no longer knew your appearance, and even your personal maid forgot the hum of your voice. Your husband Ayato was the only one who was ever allowed to converse properly with you, and you hadn’t even realised the strangeness of it all until you received an anonymous letter, marked only by the letter “T.”

But you never got the chance to ponder more about it— weren’t allowed to, when your husband ripped the letter to shreds and moved towards you.

Your husband Ayato had finally finished work, coming home and immediately removing the tightness of his clothes as he kissed you. He murmured the words he always did as he made love to you after your wedding night.

“You are my wife, and as my wife, you must continue the Kamisato bloodline.”

Followed by this statement was generally hours of endless breeding, his cheeks painted the deepest hues of red you had ever seen, a strange look in his eyes as he stared unreservedly at your vulnerable body, his skin slick with sweat as he continued moving you beneath him. His murmurings of ‘i love you’ and ‘you’re mine’ set your heart alight, delicious licks of pleasure running through you as he showed you a new meaning to the words “making love.”

You loved Kamisato Ayato, and he loved you too.

Unfortunately, you never realised how much he truly loved you.

Kamisato Ayato changed the night he gained his vision. Forced to take up a leadership role from such a young age and to try regain the former glory of his clan, he learned quickly the things a leader had to value.

And one of them was understanding how far one would go to protect those he loved.

When he met you at a boba stand, you didn’t catch his eye. Truth be told, he was annoyed there was one more person to wait for before he got what he wanted. But, when you pulled at his sleeve and insisted he took back some change he had dropped, in such hard times, you caught his interest.

It started off with allotting some periods in his schedule to go to the boba stand at times which you often showed, waiting for a few minutes before recognising your figure in the distance. It then grew to memorising your manner of speech and expressions when he conversed about little things to garner what your likes and dislikes where.

He wasn’t sure how it grew to the point where he was fist deep in your panties, stuffing them in the hidden depths of his sleeves as he ravaged your home.

He also wasn’t sure how it grew to the point where he occasionally ordered assassinations for men and women who got too particularly close with you. He wanted you entirely to himself— selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

His most valued retainer, Thoma, didn’t agree with his ideology around his pursuit of you.

“It’s not right, my lord. Your obsession with her is abnormal and, quite frankly, strange. Love doesn’t grow to such an extent where you commit such morbid deaths for such small reasons like brushing shoulders.”

Ayato was someone who would always listen to Thoma’s advice when given, but he couldn’t help but feel his retainer didn’t fully understand both him and his way of love.

If Kamisato Ayato could truly have it his way, he’d snap your legs and arms in half so that you’d rely entirely on him to walk and to hold. He’d crush your throat and sew your eyes shut so you’d rely on him to talk for you, to speak to you about things only he could see. He’d tie you up and lock you away in the dark confines of his abode so that you would only know of him and him alone.

But he knew that wasn’t something you’d be too willing to do, so he decided to entrap you with a more legal way.

Marriage.

And over the years he succeeded in his goal; entrapping you to his home, isolating you from your loved ones and the outside world, knowing only him. As an added bonus, you loved him! You were always so soft and sweet as you welcomed him home, arms open wide as you embraced him after a hard day of work. You were so naive and trusting of him, displaying absolute loyalty despite coming to the realisation that his love was a tiny bit twisted.

As he tucked his head into your chest, listening to the gentle thrum of your beating heart, he couldn’t help but smile. He got everything he wanted and more, and you weren’t ever going to leave. You would never be able to escape him, because all you knew was him. No one would be able to save you, and there was nowhere in Inazuma that you could hide from his eyes. It’s all for you and your well-being truly.

After all, he loves you.

[yan-nyanyan]

An Archon’s Reverence

Yandere! Archon Zhongli x F Reader

- set a few hundred years before the travelers arrival where zhongli is under the disguise of a head priest and poor reader is a maiden serving her Archon <3

The Archon you so revere may not be as divine as you paint him out to be

Warnings: Yandere themes, power imbalance, slight manipulation, dubcon, smut, religious themes(?)

Throughout the centuries, Zhongli has been known by many names.

His soldiers make their offerings to the God of War, praying for their God’s strength and tenacity in battle. His citizens call him Morax, a golden candle held between their palms as they prayed for him to bless their crops and wealth. Shrewd businessmen struck deals under his name, with a warning that the God of Contracts would make them pay if they ever tried to swindle their way out. To them, he was the almighty Archon who earned his place amongst the 7 and raised Liyue from stone and dirt.

But nothing can compare to the way his name falls from your lips.

“My lamb, you are late.” Though his deep timbre is followed by a smile. “Morax will be displeased.”

A clear shudder runs across your shoulders. “I-I apologize, I was caught up on my way here.”

Golden eyes narrow, the temple seems to quake under your feet. But his voice is as calm as ever, never wavering, never flinching. “Who dared to stop a Geo maiden?”

Being a Geo maiden bound you to him - your revered Archon. Everything about you was his, and something about that made him possessive.

Your breath hitches, a low delicious sound that reaches Zhongli’s keen ears. None of his priestesses’ devotions have been as satisfying as yours, none of their offerings have ever been as sweet as yours. And Zhongli never saw a lost lamb, seeking guidance under the Lord of Geo. No, he’d always seen you as his woman, a woman in need. If possible, Zhongli would keep you under his thumb forever. Alas, he could only take on the form of a head priest. To make sure he could keep a watchful eye over his favorite maiden.

He rose to his feet, his golden robes rustling against the floor when Zhongli walked toward you. His large hand cups your cheek, the rough pads of his fingertips digging slightly into your soft cheek as Zhongli tilts your chin to meet his intense gaze.

“Tell me,” he says softly, “What happened?”

Your hands clasp together across your knees, a shaky breath escaping your parted lips as you gaze upon Zhongli. He can feel you tense underneath his fingers, but you don’t draw back, even with your current position, where he’s sure the cold stone tiles are digging into your knees as you kneel in front of him.

“Remember.” His thumb rubs an absentminded circle over your cheek. “The God of Contracts detests lies,” he said in a low voice.

Immediately, a brief look of panic flits across your eyes. Zhongli nearly chuckles, your devotion to your Archon is as endearing as ever.

“I had a mishap happen at home,” you murmur as your fluttering lashes sweep across your cheekbones. “I apologize. It took me slightly longer to get here because of my mistake.”

You blink a lot when you lie.

This time, the rough thumb that digs into your round cheeks is purposeful and cruel. So much so that you yelp in pain.

Zhongli’s elegant brows raised slightly. “Did my words fall on deaf ears?”

Looking at him with widened eyes, you blurted, “P-Please, I speak nothing but the truth.” You wring your hands in your robes, trying your best not to shy away from the head priest’s intimidating gold gaze. Something in his scorched amber eyes seems to glow when Zhongli hears your explanation.

You knew of Zhongli’s famed reputation. One that instilled respect and awe whenever he strolled through Liyue. You’ve seen sickly patients beg for his magic touch, seen even the fiercest soldiers bow for his prophecies or guidance. As one of the many Geo maidens serving Rex Lapis, Zhongli was the epitome you longed to be. A man whom you’ve grown to revere. So why? Why is he looking at you with such a dark gaze? Never had you seen such a look in his eyes. One that betrayed anger… and wrath.

“Zhongli Xiansheng,” you gasped, “Have I offended y-”

“The truth,” he warned darkly. “A mortal lie cannot deceive me.”

Your heart leaps to your throat.

Immediately, a string of apologies falls out of your trembling mouth. How could you be so impudent to think that you could fool Zhongli? The panic in your voice almost cracks a smile in Zhongli’s stony facade.

Finally, the truth slips from your lips. A foolish man who stopped you in the marketplace when you were purchasing fruits for the temple.

“And why did he stop you?”

“He wanted t-to court me,” you reply with a stuttered gasp when Zhongli traces his finger across your lips. You doubt he is even listening, there is an odd look gleaming in his eyes. He doesn’t speak, and the heavy silence hung upon your shoulders is so stifling that you find it hard to breathe. Nevertheless, Zhongli could read every tremble that skates across your delicate frame, every breath that escapes your mouth, every goosebump. And a darker side of him wants to push you even further. Until those bright eyes of yours are filled with tears. Until you are groveling at his feet.

“Didn’t you promise to devote your body, heart, and soul to Morax?” Zhongli says, his voice lower than a whisper. There was an unreadable expression on his face. “How could you go back on your vow? Did you tempt him with your body? Responded to him with a smile?”

“N-No, please-”

“I do not accept excuses.”

Zhongli’s harshness stung. You’ve witnessed the head priest’s wrath before. A Liyue merchant who swindled his customers with a modified brass scale, a Fatui underling who tried to harm a group of innocent children.

None of them escaped unscathed.

Each time you watched Zhongli deliver justice, you’d watch on in a mixture of fear and awe. Never in your life had you expected that you would be on the end of it.

Your heart flutters like a trapped hummingbird. “Zhongli Xiansheng,” you tried again. “I swear on my name, I have upheld my vow to Morax ever since I took on the role of the Geo maiden.” Your desperate voice cracks toward the end.

And finally, Zhongli’s stony mask seemed to soften the slightest bit. “I have never doubted your devotion, my dear lamb.” He tilts his head to the side, Zhongli’s dark locks follow the movement as he glances down at your kneeling figure imperiously.

“But, I cannot let your mortal mistake go unpunished.”

His large hands wrap around your waist as Zhongli lifts you up like you weigh nothing more than a paper doll.

“Turn around.” The heavy timbre of Zhongli’s voice was an order. In haste, you turned around and braced your trembling hands on the stone altar. The large marble stone where you used to place fruits and glaze lilies. The stone altar right underneath Rex Lapis’ domineering statue.

Zhongli hums behind you, his large calloused hand flattens in the space between your shoulder blades, pushing you down in a gentle yet firm grip until you are entirely bent over. The side of your face presses against the cool surface, yet, your skin is burning hotter than the sun.

He likes everything about you a little too much. The picture before him, with you on the tip of your toes and hitched breaths panting for air. It makes him want to devour you whole. Your modest robes hitch up your calves. When Zhongli pushes the long skirt up to your waist, exposing your entire lower half, he ignores your weak protests. Instead, the hand on your back merely presses down even harder, pinning your squirming body still.

His hand smoothes its way up to the back of your neck. “Did you lie to me?” Zhongli asks. Something in the deep timbre of his voice tells you that he already knows the answer.

Silence.

The fingers around your neck tightens and you nod.

“Even after I warned you?”

A pause. Then another shaky, timid nod.

The crack that resounded around the temple chambers made you yelp in pain. Without warning, Zhongli’s palm connects against your plump ass again.

After the second blow, you squeeze your eyes shut. Yet, the third never comes. Zhongli doesn’t spank you again, although the reddened handprint on your ass tempts his patience. Instead, he ran his hand from your shoulder to your hip, feeling the curve of your breasts where it was pressed against the stone, the dip of your waist, the firm swell of your ass. He takes his time, ignoring your choked whimpers as he drowns himself in your absolutely sinful body. No amount of modesty can hide you from him. Maybe that’s why men flock to you like bees to honey. While Zhongli cannot blame you, it doesn’t mean that he’s above not taking advantage of your reverence. And then, he repeated the action with both hands. This time, letting his hands drift down to the hem of your skirt. His touch is greedier, rougher.

Before you can react, Zhongli’s deft fingers yank your skirt down as he knelt down behind you and spreads your legs. Finally, your cunt was bared to him. The one he’d been fantasizing about ever since you showed up at his temple.

“My little lamb,” Zhongli whispered, his hot breath skating over your glistening slit as you whimper, “You are so wet right now.”

“W-wait, please!” You squeal. You should be pushing him away, but the thought of offending Zhongli causes a nauseous pit of dread to form in your stomach. Your pathetic whimpers echo around the high ceilings of the temple. The towering statue of Rex Lapis looms over the two of you, your Archon’s stony eyes seem to be burning holes into your skin. You can’t bear to even open your eyes. “W-we can’t do this! It’s wrong.”

Zhongli merely chuckles a deep hearty sound that makes your toes curl. “It is wrong,” he agrees, “But just one taste. I’m sure Morax will not punish me for just one taste.”

He leans forward and traces his tongue all the way from your throbbing clit to your cunt. Zhongli groans into your cunt, the taste of your slick stains his tongue, more intoxicating than any wine yet sweeter than the wildest fruits. This one taste was simply not enough to satiate this ruthless Archon.

Zhongli hums to himself, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. “Please,” he whispers into your skin. “Just one more.” The touch of his tongue in you makes you cry out against the altar, your fingers scrabble against the stone surface as Zhongli laps at your cunt like a man possessed.

Gone is the dignified priest with his wise smiles and musings. Instead, the man with his face buried between your trembling legs is ravenous, like a starved wolf feasting on its first meal. The side of Zhongli has been hidden all this time.

All of a sudden, Zhongli’s mouth against your twitching cunt is gone. Instead, his large frame is pressed against your back, the elegant embroidery of his robes pressed against your sensitive skin. “Are you going to be honest, my little lamb?” He murmurs against the back of your neck.

The warmth of Zhongli’s body is almost overwhelming, and you aren’t even sure if you can deny him if you want. Upon your silence, blunt teeth grazes against your shoulder, making your back arch in surprise. You tried to shift away, a pathetic attempt to put some distance between the two of your bodies. But Zhongli merely holds your hips down with a single hand.

“Hmm?”Zhongli mused, his voice dark and rich even in your hazy hearing. The stark difference in your composures made your skin flush as hot as the sun. “Have you not learnt your lesson?” He presses a kiss on the back of your neck, another one on your spin, another one on your hip.

“Y-Yes,” you finally croak.

“Good girl.” Despite the confusion and conflict swirling in your gut, hearing Zhongli’s tender praise has you yearning for more. Gentle hands guide you to turn around so you are facing him. “Don’t you see how good it feels to be honest?”

Dimly, you realized that Zhongli’s eyes were glowing. His striking eyes burning in rings of fire and molten gold. With those piercing eyes still fixated on your flushed faze, Zhongli kneels again. Zhongli has to suppress a laugh at the dazed look in your bright eyes. How long has it been since the God of War knelt? But for you, Zhongli will kneel for an eternity if you wished. “Obey me and you will be rewarded.” Once again, he spreads your thighs open. A delicate kiss on your clit makes you keen. “Serve me , and I will keep you as mine.”

Before you can correct Zhongli, doesn’t he mean Morax? His tongue meets your glistening slit again.

Despite the guilt coursing through your veins, the pleasure trumps it. You might not even be aware, but your hips are grinding upward to meet his mouth. Zhongli grants your wish without a second thought. He laves his tongue over your cunt again, harsh fingers digging into your plush thighs to keep you open. The Archon can’t seem to help himself too. In fact, how can he? You taste so sweet, so intoxicating. Your soft mortal body pressed against his is warm and inviting. Like you want your Archon to take more of you. Unconsciously, his grip on you is getting tighter with each second.

“Z-Zhongli Xiansheng,” you whimper. A pressure is building in your core. The type that made your head spin and your toes curl. You wanted- needed the release, and each stroke of Zhongli’s tongue was taking you higher on the current of pleasure. Everything seems so sharp and blurry at the same time, save for your stuttered whines and the absolutely lewd sound of Zhongli’s mouth against your cunt, you swear that the empty temple is amplifying everything.

As if answering your thoughts, his tongue laps across your clit again. A simple motion that has you arching off the stone and your thighs clamping around Zhongli’s face. Zhongli merely chuckles, you can feel his curved smile against your skin.

“Tell me your vow again,” Zhongli says out of nowhere. His normally husky voice is tinged with arousal. His other hand glides to rub a messy little circle around your sensitive clit. You cried out, bleary eyes meeting his sharp ones. Your slick has made a mess on the stone altar, one that Zhongli easily fixes by rubbing it away with a swipe of his fingers.

“I-” you began, only to be cut off with a breathy squeal when Zhongli slides his fingers into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry when another finger joins the first, spreading you open. Your hips writhe under his touch. Whether it was to get away or to urge them deeper, you weren’t even sure.

“Speak,” Zhongli demands, as if he isn’t knuckles deep buried in your pulsing cunt. “Have you forgotten your punishment?”

An unbecoming whine echoes in the air. Dimly, you realize that you were the one who made such a high-pitched sound. If it had been moments ago, you would have winced at how lewd you sounded. “I p-promise not to lie again,” you pant as another breathy moan leaves you. “I promise to serve Lord Morax with my everything!”

Zhongli nearly shudders to hear such a raw promise. Against his robes, his cock was painfully hard. Such submission, such devotion. It’s only fair if your reverence belongs to him. Your quivering thighs twitch around his head when Zhongli dips his head to taste your nectar again.

He doesn’t stop even when you cum, your cries seem to fall on deaf ears even as you tip past the edge of pleasure. The soft warmth and flutter of your pussy beckons to him, and Zhongli doesn’t stop licking, even when you are crying and sobbing. “Z-Zhongli Xiansheng, please, please.” The overstimulation was too much for you to bear, weakly, your fingers fist against his hair as you tried to push his head away with tears of pleasurable pain streaming down your cheeks.

And when Zhongli finally takes mercy on your wails, you are nothing but a puddle of mess against the stone altar. His lips and sharp jaw glistens under the flickering candlelight. And when his pink tongue darts out to lick your arousal, you feel your body tremble with a twisted sense of longing. Zhongli’s arm is still digging into your thighs. Now that your orgasm isn’t there to distract you from his iron-like grip, the pain is sore enough that you wince.

It takes you a long moment before your brain can think coherently again. And when you finally regain your senses, you feel something prod against your slicked-up entrance.

Zhongli’s cock was lengthy and thick, the head flushed pink and dripping with a milky drip of precum. The warmth of his throbbing length pressed against your still sensitive folds makes your eyes widen in shock.

“Zhongli Xiansheng…?”

“Yes, my little lamb?” Zhongli smiles at you. His tip still pressed against your swollen cunt. You came so easily, he’d forgotten how little control his mortals exert over themselves. When Zhongli recalls the way you came, your delicious breathy moans, the taste of you spreading across his tongue, he wonders how many times you’ll orgasm again before he does.

“I-It’s not going to fit,” you say in a voice that doesn’t sound like yours.

A flicker of amusement flits across his eyes. “Are you doubting me?”

“N-No!” you reply in panic. There were still tears clinging to your sweeping lashes. With a gentle motion, Zhongli reached forward and brushes them away. “Don’t worry.” He pushes the tip in, earning a sharp gasp from you and a low hiss from Zhongli’s clenched jaw. Your inner walls pulses over the tip of his shaft. So soft, so tight. Zhongli inhales deeply to regain his composure. “You take what you can.”

“Of course,” he coos as he rubs your clit. Another deliciously cruel inch sinks into your pulsing cunt, making you tear up again. “I’ll make sure to be gentle.”

“It’s what Morax would have wanted for his sweet little lamb.”

#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #yandere genshin imapct #yandere genshin x reader #zhongli smut #yandere zhongli #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere #yandere smut #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli genshin x reader

[yan-nyanyan]

#STOPPP THIS IS ME

[yan-nyanyan]

money | hayakawa aki

PAIRING.  aki x fem!reader

LENGTH.  10.5k (also available to read on ao3)

PLAYLIST.  dressdown

SYNOPSIS.  your boyfriend has two problems: the first is that he wants you to spend all of his money, and the second is that he really wants to fuck you in the fitting rooms.

CONTENT.  established relationship, semi-public sex (takes place in the dressing rooms of a lingerie shop; it gets crowded at some points), mirror sex, praise kink, size kink (he’s much taller than you and just generally larger than you), a lot of teasing and foreplay, nipple play, hand / finger kink, fingering, some guided masturbation, oral (f receiving, he eats both holes from the back), tonguefucking, soft sex, multiple orgasms, simultaneous orgasms, creampie, pet names (baby), consensual somno flashback

OTHER NOTES.  needy reader but he likes it, he’s in control but in a soft way (a lot of gentle instruction), reader is in form fitting lingerie, aki smokes indoors, there’s also sort of a paypig dynamic because he just really wants you to spend his money LOL

NOTES.  all my love to mystic @uppermocns​ for making me fall head over heels for this man who would treat u so right, and also for tons of the headcanons & little details that went into this fic. <33

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ALL THE CONTENT STATED IN THE WARNINGS.

Keep reading

[yan-nyanyan]

STARDEW VALLEY AU x GENSHIN IMPACT IDEA: XIAO

(ART CREDIT: @/ekasetyanugraha on insta!)

Heart events !!

a/n: Okay but I’ve been going through my stardew valley phase again and i instantly matched Sebastian with Xiao. Following this train of thought, I couldn’t help but wonder what type of heart events you’d have with Xiao in a stardew valley AU. I’m just messing around with the concept honestly; it’s so fun to write HAISKSKSO

//This is part 1 and is a GN reader. I’ll try to keep it as GN as I can, but part 2 or 3 will involve some slight mentions of NSFW and i can’t write vaguely about those parts so just keep in mind!!//

——————————

Xiao’s two hearts event:

unlocked by entering his room during the hours 12-2pm on a weekday

It was dark.

The low, gentle hum of a running PC engine buzzed around the distant sound of a rickety old fan, the “clicks” and “clacks” of it’s blades the only sign something was moving.

Somewhere within the depths of the darkness was a pale grey light, occasionally flickering with the stray splash of colour— the only light source you could see.

“…Xiao?” You slowly mouth out, eyes still straining to the sudden darkness that befell you.

You’re only met with the tinny sound of metal cutting through air, muffled behind layers of cushioned headphones, followed by a faint, brassy tune of an old song you seemed to have once heard, but couldn’t name.

The harmony of it all was promptly disarrayed by the ear-piercing shrill of flimsy plastic—the sound jarring. It shocks both you and Xiao, and it’s then when you realise he’s actually in the room; green hued hair brushing against his forehead, falling from haphazardly placed bobby pins.

“Ah…”

Peeking below your foot, you notice the culprit of the noise; an empty bag of crisps, before you notice the tens of similar bags strewn across the floor, laced with clothes of all sorts. A pungent smell wafts towards your nose and you try your hardest to stifle the gag bubbling in your throat.

“…”

Xiao doesn’t really reply with any words, but the gaze that pierces through you says more than any words could ever say. It’s penetrating, you think. His eyes are molten gold as he stares a little longer, gaze unwavering, lit up by the flashing screen at his side.

“I’m the new resident— i mean, we’ve already somewhat introduced each other, right? Uh, anyways, I came down to give you this—“

You slowly raised the plate of cool, fresh almond tofu to your eye level, pushing it forward so that there was only a small space between the tempting dish and the silent Xiao.

“I heard you liked it.” You add, mustering up a small smile.

You wanted to start off on a good note with all your fellow villagers. Coming from the huge, trafficked concrete jungles, to the open wheat fields and warm wooden brick houses—you were determined to make this new life of yours the happiest you could.

But one thing that was synonymously agreed upon in the village was that the group “adepti” were never open to strangers. They were notorious for being the introverted shut-in’s of the town and rarely made appearances, and even if they did, they would make it clear through interactions that you were an outsider to them. Whether it was goodwill from the villagers, or wanting to see you fail, you eventually found out that almond tofu was the one weakness of this “adepti”, and you were going to take advantage of it.

You noticed the slight tremble in his fierce gaze,—the shake at his fingertips as he played at the hem of his shirt. Was he unsatisfied with this?

After a short moment, Xiao carefully reached out his hands and slid across the smooth edges of the plate— stopping an inch away from your knuckles. Cracked black polish decorated his nails; faded and old, paired with metal rings on his odd finger, and you couldn’t help but hum in appreciation.

“…thanks.”

You hardly hear the whisper of appreciation, but you don’t ask for anything more. It’s going to take a lot more for everyone in the village to accept you, so this much is fine for now.

——————————

Xiao’s four hearts event:

unlocked by entering his room between the hours 7-9pm on the weekend

Its been a few weeks since you’ve moved to the town of Teyvat and cultivated your farm; soft turned wheat the colour of gold cradled in the rich hues of earthy soil. Trees with leaves of deepest greens bear the juiciest vermillion apples and plump sunsietta’s; the bite wet as your teeth pierce through the flesh of the fruit.

You’ve gradually become accustomed to the other residents of the village too, reaching a point where you’ve received some pretty coin for a few of your harvests. Not only this, but your relationships have improved massively, except— with adepti Xiao. While you wouldn’t say it’s as awkward as it once was, it’s definitely not a proper friendship. Well, if you consider giving him almond tofu every time you meet him as a type of “friendship”, then sure, it could be one.

In any case, you needed to call in to his room to pass on a message from Ganyu. Why Ganyu didn’t say herself, you wouldn’t know, but you didn’t mind— it gave you more chances to get more amicable with the adepti member.

Knocking a few soft beats, you slowly turn the knob when you hear the faint sound of approval. You’re met with that same abyssal darkness of his room; his blackout curtains pasted across the windows and lamp light unplugged. From the past few times you’ve entered his room, you’ve managed to mentally map out the area.

‘Couch here, jeans here, underw— ugh..’

Xiao doesn’t even show any signs that he’s acknowledged your existence, but you’ve learned over time that he simply can’t be bothered with turning his head. In fact, Xiao confessed that he already knew when you were coming as you entered the front door. His senses were quite acute, so why he leavss his room in such a state always left you dumbfounded.

“Xiao..” You mutter, shaking your feet of the crisps bags glued to your feet before steadying yourself at his side, his face illuminated by the dim lighting of his PC.

Xiao only nods in reply, reaching his hand over and grabbing a handful of sweets before popping them in his mouth.

“Well..” Your eyebrow quirks at his complete focus on his game, and you part your lips to continue your sentence when he lets out a low curse.

You strain your ears to listen to the small mumbling he’s making but the huge red letters splayed across his screen says all it needs to.

“You.”

His voice is clear and sharp as it brings you to attention; the feeling akin to cold water dousing you in the morning. You blink once, twice, before nodding your head.

“Do you play any games?”

If you’re a pro gamer at gaming

You give him a small smile toned with the slightest amount of cockiness before striding to his side, nudging his chair over the slightest bit.

“Do I game? Xiao, can I play a short match?” You ask, trying to retain a slight humbleness, but the thought of breaking out your skills and shocking Xiao—the supposed elite gamer—has you shaking.

You notice quickly that he’s taken aback by your sudden straight forwardness, but he says nothing and instead gestures towards the computer, pushing his chair out.

Settling in to the space in front of his PC and kneeling next to his thighs, (( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)), you let your fingers stretch across the keyboard; the flickering green LED lights illuminating the pads of your fingertips as you begin.

As you play through the match, you hear the small mutters of praise and acknowledgement from the guy behind you, causing your cheeks to warm. This is the first time he’s spoken to you with more than one word, and it makes your heart flutter.

If you don’t play games often/aren’t amazing (a nOrMie by Xiao’s terms)

You give Xiao a small smile before shrugging your shoulders.

“Sure, I’ve played a few games but I wouldn’t say I’m amazing at them. Um well, I mean, most of the games I played are mainly sigle—single player.” You fumble slightly at your words, but he doesn’t seem to mind or notice at all.

When it comes to Xiao, it always seems hard to form sentences without stumbling over a word or two. Something about the way his stare is so intense and deep throws you off, so you shift on your feet and look over to the side.

Only the sound of his fan breaks the silence in the air, the awkward trepidation filling your chest and squeezing at your lungs, making it a little hard to breathe. Just as you plan on making an excuse to leave, you notice him move to face you.

“Let me teach you a little about it.” He states, and just as always, his words are straight and clear cut.

The offer makes your cheeks warm and you can’t help the slight beating of your heart as he tugs you forward with the motion of his curved finger, causing you to settle between him and the desk.

—————

/continuation of both options/

Xiao talks a little more about the game and offers to play with you sometime again, and of course, you agree.

As you walk through town the next morning, fresh dew dipping the leaves of your crops, you come across Ganyu and quickly realise that you’d forgotten all about delivering her message. Relaying this to her, she simply gives a shy smile before mentioning that Xiao’s usually extremely busy on weekends with his gaming. In fact, people generally don’t enter his room on weekend nights because he instantly rejects them.

Maybe you and the adepti are closer than you thought.

————————————

A/n: 6 heart event is where it’ll get more spicy.. but I like this soft and gradual growth between Xiao and Reader. ANYWAYS I’ll write that when i can be bothered bc it’s big ceebs rn. For now I’ll post this and add later in parts HAHA

[yan-nyanyan]

Currently thinking about a yandere, toxic ex agenda now too… in both a Genshin setting and a modern AU

//TW: Toxic. Relationships. Murder. A little victim-blaming. NSFW mentions and a little non-con. Mentions of breeding.//

—————

Childe

—————

This man would be the absolute worst ex. Firstly, he has vast amounts of money and connections, regardless of where he is. In Teyvat, you wouldn’t be able to escape him at all. His Fatui runs across the entirety of the land, and one slight appearance of your cute little face and your fate is sealed and doomed.

Childe wouldn’t hesitate to use his name and status to intimidate anyone approaching you after the breakup— in fact he’d enjoy it! Look at you, so useless without him :)) that job you tried so hard to get? Ripped from your hands and forever blacklisted, turned away through a short letter of rejection. That guy who politely opened the door for you and talked to you while you were feeling a little blue? Brutally murdered and labelled a suicide despite the obvious markings of another person present.

Childe can’t live with the fact you’re not with him. You’re his and only his. Didn’t you cry this whilst you were spread below him, legs pried open and mouth drooling? Didn’t you scream this as his cock pressed deeper, throbbing and twitching as you scraped your pretty nails at his back?

Childe is the type of man who wouldn’t let you live a normal life once you’ve broken up with him. He’ll follow you around everywhere, keep tabs on you and laugh at your panic. He’ll make sure that in everything you see, you’ll think of him. He’ll terrify you to the point where you don’t even think of talking to your family, making the correlation between your interactions and the mysterious killings.

If you decide to confront him, he’ll simply run a hand through his hair; a strange, animalistic grin on his face before you’re caught in his claws. You’re promptly knocked out and the last thing you’d hear is a sigh of relief.

Body thrown against a bed, sight covered with the prettiest red silk and skin bare. You don’t know where you are, and you’ll probably never know. All you feel is the sensation of his cock pressing against your walls, entrance lubed by only his spit and copious amounts of pre-cum.

“You think you can leave me? I’ll get you pregnant, you fucking bitch. See if you can leave then. You have no support, no family, no money. Darling, you only have me.”

At the end of the day, you will be crawling back to him whether you’d like to or not. Of course, he’ll welcome you with open arms! He loves you, darling. :)

—————

Ayato

—————

Ayato, Ayato, Ayato. This man is already known as somewhat mischievous and sly. Whilst his external appearance is dignified and elegant, the truth is, he’s anything but.

When it comes to you, Ayato has always been different. The servants of the Kamisato estate always noticed that young Master Ayato seemed a little more readable, a little less formal. That respectful personality always seemed a little more casual, mannerisms a little more friendly.

The moment you left him, however, he changed.

Kamisato Ayato was no longer the generous man he was. Well, he seemed like it, but it was different. Every servant knew that what belied his sweet words was something dark, grim and obscure. It was strange. His expression seemed neutral— joyful, even— but there was something almost unsettling about it. Not one servant could place a finger on why their Master’s action caused them shivers, caused goosebumps to spring at his lingering presence. There was something unusual about Kamisato Ayato, and no one could ever find out what it was.

Eventually, this slowly melts away and Ayato seems somewhat placated. Sometimes leaving his room with a red warmed face and laboured breaths, eyes sparkling and crescent shaped. :))

Everyone knows that Ayato is not one for public appearances, and yet, he seemed to often visit the residences of Inazuma, wandering around purple-black houses, lips curved and twisted.

But why was the Young Master of the Kamisato household lingering around the home of a missing person? Someone who was long ago ruled off as a cold case— someone who’s name couldn’t be remembered no matter how much one would think about it.

The truth is, Kamisato Ayato never let you leave. The moment you approached him with intentions to split, he already knew. Of course he’d know. He’s been surrounded by manipulative, silver-tongued politicians since birth.

And he’s the one on top of them all.

Forced into a little housespouse role in the confines of his personal basement, built specifically beneath his room under the guise of a more “personal” office that none would or could question. Bred almost every night, forced into a mating press as he mumbles words and phrases that get lost in the pleasure of it all.

It was a mistake getting involved with someone like Ayato. You should’ve known this the moment your family went missing after dismissing his initial advances.

—————

Xiao

—————

You’re leaving? Him? No way. That’s not possible. He’s devoted so much of his life to you, and you think you can just leave him like that?

Xiao doesn’t have the mortal connections (or many at all in a modern AU) to enforce you like the other two. However, Xiao is an entire army on his own. Xiao’s constantly teetering on the edge of insanity due to his centuries worth of karmic debt. But the moment you decide to leave him? He snaps.

He needs you. He needs you. You’re his light, you’re all he needs. If he can grasp you once more, he can be free of this demonic state, no matter how you return to him.

Honestly I’d like to explore Xiao in a more modern AU concept here.

Xiao would be absolutely terrifying. He is a man with nothing to lose, and that’s the most dangerous of all. He would shamelessly bombard your phone with creepy pictures of you living your daily life. Sitting on a train amongst a crowd of people, watching videos on your phone, or angled photos of your supple body curved under the shower head. He would make sure to get your most intimate moments up close too, like a picture of you deep in sleep, or his hands groped around your breasts while knocked out.

One particular photo left you scarred. The creamy tip of his cock teasing at your folds, panties pulled to the side by a gloved hand and another wrapped around his base. Ropes of his cum splayed across your soft belly, glittering under the flash of the camera.

You’re too ashamed to go to police about it, and even if you did, it was sent with burner phones! And seriously, how did you not even wake up? Are you even sure that this happened? Maybe you’re taking this role play a little too far, dear.

You’re utterly alone in the predicament. There’s no incriminating evidence and you’re being harassed on the daily. His unsolicited dick pics ping your phone every morning with heart felt captions, and you’ve grown paranoid of everyone and everything, no matter where you move.

If you ever decide to confront Xiao, he’ll simply dismiss you. Can’t you see that he’s still the same hermit, studious student of the past? Search his room if you want, he’s innocent!

Xiao wouldn’t force you to come back to him, but he sure as fuck wouldn’t let you go to anybody else.

#genshin #Xiao #ayato #Kamisato Ayato #yandere #breeding #toxic #Childe #tartaglia #dating #tw nsfw #NSFW #tw noncon #tw stalker #yandere xiao #yandere ayato #yandere Childe

[yan-nyanyan]

In a mood for an ayato breeding session please