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throwaway-yandere · 5 months

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𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 [Yandere!Dottore/Reader]

a/n: this fic is 100% dedicated to @leftdestiny-posts and they would know just how much they had inspired me in this fic once they finished reading it HAHAHAHAH. P.S.: the classical songs mentioned are actual songs. Yes, the title is half a joke. Here's the spotify playlist if you're curious.

Unreliable Synopsis: You cannot remember your past, but your doctor has been with you every step of the way— and he's more than willing to spend some time with you outside the hospital. Still... did you always have pure white hair?

CW: yandere themes, light body horror, manipulation, its dottore, c'mon LOL.

Concert II "Tristezza Di Fine Anno", performed by the Morespoke Philharmonic with their conductor, Lady Columbina, began nearly an hour ago. And you had the fortune of hearing their songs for yourself.

The well-dressed crowd filled the seats, behaving in what was appropriate for their high station. It was fully booked. The music overwhelmingly masked anyone's breaths, if they had one to start with. Her program can be felt deep in the audience's bones. Rattling them in each sforzando before it lulls down through the sound of her handpicked musicians— with Lady Columbina as the lonesome soloist when the moment calls for it.

"This piece, Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, is not Columbina's own making, she had failed to mention that," your company hummed. "This was by another composer who hid behind the name Safed. They were a self-fulling prophecy. Do you wish to know what they said about this piece?"

You said nothing as Zandik— Lord Dottore— stroked your unnaturally "white" hair.

"They said that nobody understood the piece and that they wish they could conduct the first performance five centuries after their death."

Zandik smiled.

"What say you? Do you think those words are true?"

Your company was a tall and thin man with artificially pale-ish skin and wavy blue hair. His eyes were reportedly bloodshot crimson, although you had not received proof of that in this lifetime. But, you were drawn to his deep ocean-like colors, and that was enough to keep you mildly complacent to his strange remarks.

Zandik is surprisingly a considerate man, but he must've brought you with him for a reason. He told you himself that the reason he brought you out of your prison-like hospital room was a mere experiment on his behalf. Paradigm-shifting consequences of his strange social experiments with you are likely to occur, and he cares not for its ethical debates. He won't ask for rhetorics; these to him are tangible outcomes and no questions will be entertained.

All except his.

"I think… "

The composition had a serene, slightly asymmetrical feel to it. You were certain this was Lady Columbina's creative liberties at play. Something about it did not capture its true authenticities. The show purported to narrate three stories: the first concerned a judge who had to find a loved one guilty; the second concerned a prince who drove their beloved into despair; and the final was a tale of a knight who disregarded his obligation to defend a loved one.

But it felt incomplete. As if there was a missing piece— a secret fourth act hiding between the notes and stage.

"A person can't completely mourn for something they would never experience," you told him. "But even so, if I were Safed, I'd feel like my effort would've been a waste."

His eyes remained trained on your hair as you spoke. Zandik seems to dislike it. Unlike his cells mixed with engineered nanomaterials, yours are uniquely… "natural". His hair has a color intensity, whereas yours was the presence of every color— as physics explained it.

"Something they would never experience…" Zandik repeated, tasting the words on his tongue— a smirk etched on his face as though it tasted like bitter irony.

You continued.

"I have a hunch that Safed put everything they worked hard on all their pieces because Lady Columbina wouldn't have performed it otherwise. Since all the songs on the concert's program are marketed as underappreciated compositions, I would… um… infer that they also questioned their works and ultimately themselves if it all had worth in the end. Hopeless for the lack of attention, they probably thought there's more hope if they lived in another generation."

You wanted to say, though you're not sure where this negativity came from, that they probably despised how their well-crafted works were ignored and their sloppy yet significantly more popular compositions angered them.

But you're not Safed. You don't want to put words in their mouth.

".... Hmm, an acceptable hypothesis— a decent one, even," whatever monotonous response Zandik wished to convey, his voice betrayed his grand satisfaction. "Yet I won't give you any confirmation."

"I know."

Zandik laughed.

"The next piece is Norn's Adagio for Strings Op. 11, before the closing Symphony No. 6, better known as Pathétique Symphony, in B Minor Op. 74."

You tilted your head innocently. "Pathetic?"

"Another piece by Safed. It's a Fontaine-translated title. It's originally named pateticheskaya, which meant passionate or emotional, not at all pitiable."

He crossed his arms, insulted as though he was the one who came up with the original title.

"Roughly half a millennium past, the masses attributed Safed's demise to the strains of their final composition, the so-called Pathétique, a mere nine days preceding their exit from this mortal coil. The prevailing narrative spouts a tale of a tragic surrender to the clutches of undiagnosed clinical depression. I find such simplicity in analysis rather pedestrian, wouldn't you agree?"

You took a while to process his inquiry before hesitantly nodding.

"I… I think so."

Zandik smiled.

It's hard to tell if it's genuine, especially when such a protruding mask hides his eyes. Should its existence vanish, you aren't certain you'd see a soul within his pupils either.

"Safed hated this piece, believing it should be cast aside and forgotten. They were living in the woodlands when they wrote it— and when they decided to live with their benefactor, it was suddenly difficult to tear them away from their work."

You nodded to cue that you were still listening.

"They have an incredibly deep connection with their works. One might say they see in tunes rather than color."

You nodded again.

"Your inclination towards a perpetual affirmation of propositions, presumably to veil any potential lacunae in your cognitive purview, does not escape me. It is, if I may be so bold, your agreement that conceals your specter of unfamiliarity, right?"

You rarely understand a word he says when he is in this passionate state. You just nod as if you knew.

"Adorable," Zandik chuckled.

His voice was chillingly low yet… comforting.

"Your sincerity constitutes an enchanting facet of your comportment."

He had to be teasing you.

"Although…" Zandik grabbed a few locks of your hair as though it was slimy and unpleasant— quickly retracting them with a disapproving tilt. "You could stand to utilize more (h/c) hair dyes. How is it conceivable that it has returned to white yet again?"

You opened your mouth but Zandik raised a finger.

"No. I am the scholar here. Do not answer."

You giggled. "Understood, Doctor."

He grinned, inadvertently showing off his pointed canines.

"What a good test subject you are, my dear (Y/n)."

Whether good was a subjective or objective assessment or not was up to interpretation.

The mid-concert intermission began, allowing Lady Columbina's pressured musicians a 20-minute sigh of relief. Zandik ushered you to the back where the Lady Harbinger reposed on a white sofa, her cheek brushing a visibly soft and cloud-like pillow. The bright backstage lighting made her seem ethereal.

She looked like heaven, but Zandik would argue that "(Y/n)" is the true epitome of the word.

"Greetings. As expected, you'd initiate conversation at the earliest convenience." She cooed. "You look younger today, Doctor."

"You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment, Columbina." Zandik scoffed. "How many times will we rehearse this canned script until it is a learned lesson?"

"Perhaps it shall end on the day you refrain yourself from recreating… perspectives."

"Since my encounter with the Dendro Archon, I have not revisited that notion."

Columbina's gentle smile dropped coldly. "You know that your segments are not what I am referring to."

You looked back and forth between the two. Each of them was a distinctively unique person and it's a challenge to take your eyes away from the other.

Hence, when you felt Lady Columbina's eyes on you, you shook and straightened yourself before bowing stiffly.

"G-Greetings, Lady Columbina!!!"

Her gentle smile resurfaced.

"Greetings to you as well, dear Safed."

You blinked.

Dottore clicked his tongue, and Columbina laughed softly.

"Apologies, I meant to say (Y/n)— that is the name you go by in this era of humanity, right?"

You'd rightfully claim that between the three of you, you were the most human. Zandik has his clones, Columbina's origins are of strict secrecy, and you are a mere amnesiac patient. But the way she addressed you was sounding awful like stripping you away with that sense of humane identity.

"Yes? I guess?"

Columbina delightedly buzzed in your reply. "(Y/n)— truly a lovely name. That must mean that you're very healthy! It warms my heart to hear that name again. The other ones had terribly dull names, but if the Doctor had given you this title, then it must mean his research is finally drawing to a close."

Her remarks made little sense. You know little about yourself and trust only the Doctor's judgment. Should you trust her words, then it must mean (Y/n) isn't your real name…

But… that doesn't seem right either.

"Not quite, the name deserves no celebration," Dottore replied happily. "I merely ran out of translations. Bianco, Wit, Bái— what else is there? Ancient Natlan?"

"Scientists truly make for terrible poets— Why not try Inazuman?" Columbina offered.

Those words must have had a heavy weight to them because Zandik pondered for much longer than expected.

"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind," Zandik muttered. "Although it is preferable it does not have to reach that point."

"May I ask why did you bring them here?" Columbina asked.

"It's a bit of an unconventional experiment, but I've been exploring how to elicit positive associations with certain stimuli. Exposing them to music as I accompany them should cause them to associate the emotional response it elicits with being around me." Dottore hummed. "It would be asinine to put them in a chaotic yet controlled environment such as a theme park. While a racing heart may be effective, I shouldn't risk a (Y/n)'s well-being by subjecting them to roller coasters."

"Are you sure you're not the scared one?" You asked cheekily. Zandik rolled his eyes.

She shook her head.

"What a roundabout way of saying you're taking them out on a concert date…"

Columbina looked at you once more.

"Oh, but (Y/n), you appear unwell, my dear…" she pointed at stage left. "Why don't you fix yourself up in the nearest restroom?"

Dottore raised an eyebrow, which made you want to decline Columbina.

"I'm r-really okay, Lady Colum—"

"I insist."

Columbina smiled wider. Her laced mask cast a gloomy shade on her visage.

You had no other choice.

"O… Okay."

The halls that led to the restroom were mostly empty. Perhaps it was due to Lady Columbina's performance that made them patiently await the next song.

But there was one young man you encountered along the way. He had blonde half-way braided hair and purple-ish eyes. You paid him no mind as he circled a small rectangular paper, likely the concert's ticket, between his fingers. However, within a second, that paper vanished.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously, wondering if your eyes played tricks. He laughed, noting your attention.

"Ah! Sorry," he cheerfully gestured a small wave. "Didn't mean to practice in public."

The blonde man approached you with a smile.

"You're #9805, right?"

Immediately, you both got on the wrong foot.

Your nose scrunched, "I prefer (Y/n)."

The man flinched. "Oh, yikes! I'm not making the best first impression— nice to meet you (Y/n)! I have something for you."

You thought he was handing you his concert ticket for a moment but when you took a good look, it was a grayscale brochure.

And a white tulip…

"Um…"

"Needless to say, I'm something of a—"

"Trickster?"

"Magician, but an astute guess nonetheless!" He laughed sheepishly. "I was waiting for you, I thought you wouldn't go to the restroom."

So, did Lady Columbina plan this?

You caressed the binding and skimmed through the pages. "What's this for?"

"Father said you might be interested in its contents," the young man said. "That's all."

You blinked.

"... Are you saying you missed out most of the concert just to hand me this?"

He laughed awkwardly again. "My dear sister says I have a habit of missing a hint of romanticism when it counts, so I guess today's just one of those moments."

"Did you not like the music?" You scoffed, temper rising.

"Did you hate the composition? Did you not understand the e-emotion behind the chords? Don't you understand just how d-disrespectful that was?!"

"Woah, woah, I didn't say any of that." His eyes widened.

He didn't expect your voice to crack.

"I'm so sorry if you're offended— are you one of the original composers?"

…

You took a deep breath.

… Why were you mad?

… Why did it feel like those songs mean more to you than meets the eye?

"Sorry, I just…" You shook your head. "I guess I'm not feeling well. Oh, no, I'm so SO sorry…"

An unknown part of you thrived to hear him praise the music. That same part pitied the composer who worked day and night to perfect their piece. It's an ugly voice, but it was sincere.

… What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly lash out? What was going on?

"Oh, well there's no need to be sorry then." The blonde man took his hat off and bowed.

"Farewell, Mx. (Y/n)!" He grinned. "The greatest magician in all Teyvat will take his leave. Thank you for your time!"

With the sway of his dark cape, he disappeared.

You entered the restroom to wash your face. It didn't do much to soothe your nerves. The lingering dread for your strange emotional mood swing remained.

To distract yourself, you read through the article.

The Enigmatic Legacy of Composer Safed

In the annals of musical history, few figures emerge as enigmatic and hauntingly captivating as the orchestral composer, Safed. Born five centuries ago amidst the ancient woodlands of Sumeru, this ethereal musician seemingly materialized from Vanarama with no familial relations.

Huh… So it's about the one who wrote the previous compositions earlier.

No wonder that blonde man asked if you were one of the composers. He was being a smartass.

A Fiery Finale: The Pathétique Symphony

Legend has it that in their final act of emotional expression, Safed penned the "Pathétique Symphony," a composition so emotionally charged that, overwhelmed with disdain for their creation, they purportedly set ablaze their woodland home. Seeking solace and escape, Safed accepted the benevolent offer of a city-dwelling benefactor.

…

Safed… burned down their house?

No…

No, that's not how you remembered that.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

That's not what happened. "Safed" didn't burn their house down.

Suddenly, you stilled. Your thoughts ran wild, but your inner rationale tried to force them to a halt. This peak in anxiety did not make sense.

… Why would an amnesiac like you know what happened?

A Swansong: Il Dottore's Beneficence

Their benefactor, now celebrated as our Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore, welcomed Safed into the city's heart. It was here that the truth unfolded: Safed had been grappling with hearing loss for years, an affliction that fueled their artistic brilliance yet cloaked them in a muffled world. They were unaware of their disability, yet thrived in their field.

…

Wait…

Before you began to read the final paragraph in Safed's brochure, you hurriedly went back to Dottore and the composer's vintage photographed portraits.

After seeing their face, you dropped the brochure in the restroom's sink.

You saw their face.

You saw YOUR face and Zandik's.

But not quite. That was you, but at the same time, it wasn't. Zandik looked stiff in those photos with "you", likely a product of the time since Kamera photography was used only in rare formalities that required a bit of dress up. But the "you" you saw was sickly way beyond the formal costumes. They had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair, but yours were all white.

White…

Safed… That's the Sumeru translation for white, isn't it?

Bianco, Wit, Bái— they're all translations for "white", aren't they? And if Dottore and Columbina's earlier conversations were to go by, the one after you would be named Shiro.

…

The one… after you?

"Tut tut."

You trembled at the familiar sound.

You slowly turned your head around and there he was, leaning against the restroom door.

"You were in the restroom for too long. It appears my suspicions were not unfounded."

Without waiting for a response, he approached with large strides. His gloved hands seized your stressed shoulders. The grip tightened harshly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of your mouth, and your anxiety heightened. He angrily bared his sharp teeth as he watched it stain his gloves.

And yet Zandik looks…

Sad.

And distressed.

He pressed his earpiece.

"Test Subject #9805 exhibits troubling symptoms. Hematemesis suggests a severe physiological response. Persistent manifestations of albinism in ocular and follicular pigmentation indicate underlying deformities. Immediate isolation is warranted for the researcher and subject's well-being."

His hand was cold. Skin imbued with silver nanomaterials after several operations, reminiscent of the age-old philosophical question: "Is it still the same ship if you gradually replace all of its parts?"

Then Zandik did something unexpected.

He dropped his hold and you prepared yourself by shutting your eyes as he swung his arm.

To hug you.

"I'm sorry, I have failed you again, (Y/n)," Zandik muttered. "I should not have raised my expectations."

"W… What? Why are you putting me in isolation?" You asked, rattled. "What have I done?! I just— I didn't do anything wrong! What did I—"

He shifted, dragging your arm to hug him back as though you were a little girl's doll. Zandik rested his head on your shoulder, shaking slightly.

"In your innocence, no fault lies. I thought I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and met unfulfilled expectations" Zandik gritted his teeth, voice somber. "Despite centuries of refinement, it appears that I still have room for improvement in perfecting the process… I was right. This deserves no celebration."

The doctor laughed sadly.

"When will I ever be proven wrong?" He asked himself as he wiped the blood off the corner of your lips.

He pulled away, pecking your forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Those were not the words you expected from his mouth, and yet you heard it more than once. I'm sorry. It does not fit his character, nor does the tender yet cold hug he had given prior.

You're scared. You're terrified. You know what was bound to come. You know what awaits you. White walls. Silence. Separation.

Solitary.

Far from a choice. Far from negotiable.

There's no amnesty.

And yet, the words flowed from you naturally.

"... I forgive you."

You have no idea why you said what you said. There's no certainty that you believed your own words. Zandik's lip twitched downward.

"You should not," Zandik croaked. "Why? Why must you always forgive and accept my selfishness? Do you derive satisfaction in seeing me in this state?!"

You opened your mouth to answer but were stopped abruptly as he grabbed your hair.

Zandik had always favored you compared to other patients. You know this very well. He's an evil man and the list of actions he had done that had harmed you in the name of science is at least two pages long upon your awakening. Yet, you were sure he liked you enough for he told you of his new exciting experiments. He scolded you when you left his research institute for fresh air. And he would hold your hand whenever you dreaded those thick injections.

You just didn't know he had it in him to fold from his intimidating facade just to kiss you like a desperate man.

Breathless under his control, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and cold, and he took you in gently as though he'd break you. Zandik, as strange as it was, still seemed to prioritize your comfort over his needs. Normally, this tension would've made him so short-tempered. But this will be your last interaction. The doctor tasted your blood in his mouth, and he was nauseous at the thought of hurting you more. But he stopped. Even though he wishes to force all his pent-up desires onto you. Even though he wanted to love you thoroughly that you'd forget your name again.

Zandik whimpered quietly as he pulled away— sounding like a dog that would not sleep that night. What was left in between was a thin disappearing line of saliva and blood that quickly broke off.

The doctor should be happy he finally got to have a proper date with you after 9805 failed attempts.

But he's not content.

He was about to lean in for the second time but stopped himself. Selfish. To think he nearly saw you two finally walking down the aisle. Why was he always so selfish when it came to you? But those rhetorics mattered not in your head.

You were silenced. You were held.

You were loved.

"No." Zandik breathed in, laughing humorlessly. "No— I am the scholar here. Don't answer."

And you will be disposed of.

"Take them away." He spoke to his men calmly. They had entered long enough to witness what he had done. The men did not hesitate to grab you, thinking Dottore thought you no more than a mere toy.

But calm was deceptive. It does not convey the distress that chokes him.

Maybe…

Maybe in the 9806's trial… he'll have you as he always wanted.

The Fatuus that escorted you in was gentle. A silent guide. The expression on her face was clear that she wanted to extend her apologies as well but mustn't.

You already have a white tulip in hand.

Arlecchino already sended her regards in advance.

When she opened the door by tapping a card against the lock, she bowed her head. You let yourself enter without a fight. The room was pure white with the rest of the furniture matching the drapes. But Dottore didn't just provide the necessities. There were books, sketch pads, and other recreational materials.

As you were about to approach the center, something was off on both sides.

You looked to your left.

Two clear mirrors divided your room from the others. There's a sign on the left wall. Code #4135.

You stood, shocked, grieving at the sight of your predecessor. They were a mirror of you but with a different name— and an even worse state.

One had made a slight sound coming off their skin— rotting slightly. There's a tube connected to their mouth and you could see yourself— you could see them dripping. They had your face. Their hair and eyes were white. The nose was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Their neck was cricked back at an unnatural angle. You don't know if they're still breathing. They're still bleeding. They must've bitten off their tongue.

There's a lone white blanket that covers the rest of them.

You think they might be dead.

You think "you" might've died more than once.

THUD!

You jolted at the sound coming from the wall behind you. Upon seeing their body, you froze.

Code #032.

They were but a head. You wish you could only focus on that aspect, but you looked lower and your hair raised. They cannot feel the same, for they were almost only a spine left. The rest of them were their skeletal frame, guided by thin lines one can barely call flesh.

Their head banged against the mirror. The thought that the sound was what made you flinch earlier made you unwell.

They seem to be telling you something. Their breath fogged up the glass and their thinned white hair splayed across your view. Their mouth said something urgently you couldn't comprehend because their tongue was paper-like in size.

#032 was shaking. Their pain grew vivid in every movement that the room was starting to spin. You sensed their turmoil.

They looked like death.

You all looked like death itself, both the pretty and ugly ends of it.

"Don't." You whispered, begging as you knelt to their level. "You don't have to speak."

You laughed deprecatingly.

"We're not the scholar here. He is."

In every syllable, you saw the outline of their esophagus strain. The nerves were blueish purple. The little skin they have left on their cheeks is sunken. Their lips were gnawed, likely as a response to the pain they'd gone through previously. Fists of bone tapped against the glass, and you quivered, imagining their pain.

You were not afraid of them. You only mourned their anguish. In fact, you feel at ease to be in the presence of yourself from the past.

It reminded you of what "Safed" had allegedly spoken years ago.

Nobody understood the pieces you made and you wished you could conduct the first performance five centuries after your first death.

And now, here you are.

Seeing two "people" who do understand you.

And they share your face.

"Pathetically", the only one that can understand you is yourself.

You're all flies trapped in a web that the predator refuses to wrap and consume out of pity. Compared to the others, you looked fine.

But your lungs were blistering.

Despite their deathly ill and mutilated bodies, you were the one bound to die soon enough.

His experiments worked.

You love him.

You love Zandik.

And how tragic it was that the person who learned how to love him was doomed to perish.

In your last minutes, you recalled something vital:

As an outsider, your body was not meant for this world, but after encountering the woodland creatures and Zandik, it became tremendously difficult to part ways with it.

You coughed up yet again with a gentle smile on your face. Maybe you're not dying…

Maybe you're just returning home, for every atom in your multiple bodies was once part of the galaxy.

You are (Y/n) (L/n).

And you were not from Teyvat.

Much like the rest of the descenders, you have a quirk about you that sets you apart from the norm. For the travelers the world reveres today, it was their distinct determination and questionable age that was remarkable. Yours slightly titters to an inhuman level.

You can "clone" yourself.

Zandik and the "original" you wouldn't phrase it in that manner, but it's the easiest way to describe your talents.

"So, it is cloning." Zandik paused. "Mind letting me in on the science behind the process?"

He was an ordinary student when you both met. Far from a doctor, but at least he was a registered scholar in the Akademiya. Zandik didn't have an eloquent tongue as he does in the present, yet his curiosity burned all the same.

Which is why, back then, you thought his questions were cute.

Not dangerous.

"It's not that I can make copies of myself without consequences," you humored with a grin. "I'm just making… fragments of myself. Segments, if you prefer to call it that. It's a common ability for the people back in my world. None of us do it excessively— especially since we're kind of an invasive species."

Zandik raised an eyebrow, "is that a commendable trait?"

"My kind says so. Whether good is a subjective or objective assessment or not is up to interpretation." You answered noncommittedly. "I don't think that's right. Our soul splits apart until we're just… empty. We lose some memories in the process."

"But functioning?"

"In a sense, yeah, but we lose a part of ourselves like memories and well, hair color, I guess." You nodded. "Why are you so curious?"

"Since you have rejected my confession, I want to try my hand at seducing a copy of yours instead," Zandik said. You couldn't tell whether he was joking with his naturally piercing red eyes. "Until then, you are not allowed to asexually reproduce without my authorization. Understood?"

You laughed. Unaware of his arsonist crimes, you willingly indulged his words.

"I owe you my ears, so it's only right that I'll listen to your commands, Zandik."

"Good." Zandik grinned, shark-like.

"What a good test subject you are, (Y/n)."

Centuries later, that closing sentence will continue to remain true.

Since then, his life has changed. Multiplied, even. Upon studying your genetic makeup, he found ways to duplicate himself as well. Despite his feats in science, Zandik remained unhappy.

Deep down, all the Harbingers pity the Doctor who cannot save his most loved one. That includes both Columbina and Arlecchino.

No one protests even when harmful orders are given; everything appears fine until the symptoms are felt. Because the organism— the astral descender— has no nerves or voice, he continues to assume that the patient is not in pain.

The patient needs peace but because they are not to speak, they remain silent, and the need persists.

The patient wants to eat and breathe fresh air, but because such desires might hurt the feelings of the doctor who thinks he has done everything needed, the patient remains quiet, contemplating desires out of fear of reprimand.

The original (Y/n) (L/n) suffers in silence. In a white room only accessible by a man who continues to nurse his unrequited love: Zandik.

No one else can enter this room.

He won't allow it. Only he can be obsessed with you.

The thought of you haunts him like a smiling reflection upon window panes— like a gift of a Trojan horse with nothing but your echoing laughter and hospital monitor beeps inside. Your thin limbs were marching clock hands with rusted gears that miraculously function till the end of time.

What is immortality for if every day was a death loop?

It is such a lonely concept…

You ought to be thankful that he's willing to be your eternal company.

"I endeavored to elicit a reciprocation of my sentiments from the latest subject. Regrettably, their discovery of my antecedent experiments transpired prematurely. Nevertheless, as asserted several times, it remains but a temporal inevitability until an iteration of yourself succumbs to having an interest towards me." Dottore hummed.

He held your feet.

He held Test Subject #01's feet.

If you spoke up, he would've bragged about how he was right. How people do love your songs. But no one knows if you can't or won't answer him. This one-sided conversation is the punishment for his hubris.

He took out a sharp knife and cut off one of your toes. You no longer feel any pain as you bleed into his hands. What a kind man the doctor is, for he blocked all your pain receptors years ago. It's a good thing you regenerate quickly.

That's what he loved and hated about you.

You only gave and gave.

But you never ran out of soul. You never ran your heart fully dry— and that left you ill. Zandik could never let you go.

You're already a part of him.

Hence, he must not make clones of exaggerated memories. He wanted your perfect yet healthy replica.

Praise be the white corpuscles extracted from your veins which had brought him new life. You were the reason for his research. You were the breath that gave his segments life. You were his muse, much like he was yours.

"Fear not, (Y/n)," he reassured with a measured tone. "Upon my mastery of the arts, I intend to reinstate your autonomy and awareness. Perhaps then, you shall find the organic inclination to reciprocate affection toward me by the 9806's trial. Until then…"

In other words, give him more time and he'll reinvent love.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I'm so, so sorry."

And ultimately, he'll reinvent YOU.

"Can I have another piece of your scalp?"

"No."

"Do you not understand the weight of this research or must I expound on it further in another three-hour presentation?"

"Alternatively, you could start by saying that you're sorry," you raised an eyebrow. "I'm still not over the fact you randomly cut a piece of my ear when I was asleep, doctor. You know, I heard from the aranaras that white tulips are given to someone when they ask for forgiveness."

Zandik smirked.

"Regrettably, it seems that such an occurrence is unlikely to transpire. Do not expect such words and gifts from me."

You smiled.

"We'll see, we'll see."

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist for the last two): @average-yandere-enjoyer @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl

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merakiui · 4 months

Note

PLEASE. please. if you would be so kind to give us some more stalker ex scara... the first time I saw it it just changed my brain chemistry, and I desperately need more </3

>:D thinking a lot about stalker ex Scara, but you get really drunk and he's the only one left to look after you......

(cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, alcohol/intoxication, toxic ex scara, modern college au, connected to the previous stalker ex scara concept)

Just,,, the fact that he's been so good and sweet ever since he casually slid himself into your friend group and you're not sure if you can trust him, yet here you are being completely, utterly, stupidly vulnerable in front of your very unstable ex. orz

Kuni's not one for parties; in fact, he'd much rather spend his precious time doing quiet, comfortable things with you (cuddling is so much healthier than drinking, after all! <3). Unfortunately, you allow your foolish friends to talk you into attending these brain-rotting parties so you can get drunk off your ass, and he can't let you attend them by yourself because there are too many risks. If you got too comfortable with Venti or Kazuha or even Tighnari while drunk, Kuni would never forgive you. >:( he's worked too hard cultivating this friendly image for himself, and he isn't going to let you or anyone else ruin it.

But right now everyone else is too inebriated to do much of anything, and he hasn't touched the drinks ever since he arrived, instead choosing to anchor himself to some forgotten corner of the room. He sulks and broods in silence, a scowl plastered to his face. He's just barely tolerating it for your sake. It's because he loves you that he's doing any of this. Soon you won't even need any of these troublesome friends. Soon you'll just have him, and he's all you really need. It was like that when you were growing up, after all. Even though, as painful as it is, you don't seem so codependent, so swept up in romance... You're so independent now, no longer the shy, fearful thing from the final few months of your relationship with him. He'd be impressed if he wasn't trying so hard to isolate you from each of your friends. It's a challenge when he's trying to tiptoe around Heizou's sharp, witty perception or Venti's proclivity for knowing everything about everyone despite no one knowing much about him.

But he endures. He's gone years without you; this is nothing.

If you were smarter, you'd know not to trust a word he says. That kind, soft smile he's perfected for this act is not to be believed, especially not when he's using it to assure your friends that he'll bring you home safe and sound. Heizou has his doubts because it's late and you can hardly walk a straight line, but he's tipsy just like the others and it's hard to deliberate like this. Besides, when has Kuni ever let the group down? :)

He takes you back to his dorm instead because Albedo's not home and he has the entire room to himself. While you meander clumsily over to his bed, kicking your shoes off and shucking your jacket in the process, he watches. You have no idea how much he depends on you, how much he admires you, so much so that it surpasses love and lust entirely. Without you, he's nothing. Or that's what he thinks because for the majority of his life he's felt empty and sub-human and so alone. But now you're here, and you can fill those empty spaces in his heart and give him a reason to keep living.

You don't seem particularly fazed when the bed dips under his weight. Rather, you blink sleepily up at him when he leans over you, gingerly reaching to help you out of your sweater. You're too drunk to protest or struggle, and you feel so dizzy every time you open your eyes. It's difficult to remain fully conscious when sleep is tugging at your body, pulling you under. You don't even realize he's fit his mouth on yours until his tongue is pushing past your lips. You manage to place your hands against his chest, intending to push him away, but you're so exhausted and tired. They fall to your sides, useless.

Kuni sits up and smiles at you. He says something about you being dumb and cute... or something about how your friends are fools. You don't really catch all of his obsessive murmurings when your attention is waning. Clothes are torn off; he kisses you a lot. You're not sure if you're reciprocating, but it certainly sounds that way when you're whining beneath him, arching against sodden sheets, your breaths coming in pants and huffs each time he ruts into you.

He doesn't have to worry about anything. Right now, it's just you and him in a corner of the world, locked away from everyone who might try to take you away from him. It's not like you'll remember much come morning. You don't need to anyway. It's better if you're lost and bewildered. That way he'll be able to craft a story to suit his fancy. You'll believe it. You'll have no choice, and Kuni knows how to tell very believable tales.

#genshin chit chat #astolfofo #yandere scaramouche #tw: noncon #n/sfw #omg wait....... what if you're best friends with furina and scara feels so threatened because all of your friends are male #(heizou venti kazuha tighnari etc)#but now you have furina who seems to cling to you and it rubs scara the wrong way and and and!!!!!#orz i need to write for furina she's so beloved <3 #(with a fem reader) furina's sapphic yearning versus scara's obsessive pining...........#OH NO AND LYNEY....... the mouchey and lyney rivalry T_T #AAAAAA or furina x reader x arlecchino........#so many thoughts are written here and they're scrambled please forgive me >_<

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yanderehsr · 7 months

Note

If it's not too much, can you do a fox hybrid/foxian soldier! Reader that works for columbina, arlecchino, jingyuan?

And don't forget to eat three times a day and drink enough water!

Sure, hope you'll enjoy😁

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Murder

Columbina: You don't really work all that much, she has stationed you outside her bedroom door, you are to protect her mansion should it ever come under attack. You never really do anything tho since who would be foolish enough to attack Columbina of all people, she who can rival gods and has a high political power in Snezhnaya.

Columbina adores your ears and tail, at some point she will drag you into her room and tie up your hands to the bed, she will hum a tune as she lay there petting you ears and cuddling you, this should be your new job, free of stress and full of her.

"My beautiful dove, how come you aren't talking to me, you wouldn't wanna make me mad now do you"

Arlecchino: She doesn't think you should work as a fatui soldier at all, just look at you, you are so fluffy. Nope, she gives you work at the orphanage, no one will stop her if she relocates you, you are a mere soldier and she is the top dog around here, you will listen to her or face the consequences.

Arlecchino let's the kids play with your ears and tail, it gives her a warm feeling seeing you spend time with them, she herself plays with your tail when you two are alone, don't you dare struggle for she is not afraid to hit you to make you obedient, you are hers, nothing will change that.

"Truly foolish if you to think I care about what you want, you are mine, now come here so I can pet you or face the consequences"

Jing Yuan: He always has his hand on you, whether he has time off or is working he will always have time to have his hand on your head and play with the fluffy ears, it's relaxing for him having something to do at all times, he has trapped you with working for him forever, you will never escape him and no one would believe you if you revealed what he is doing.

Jing Yuan also likes to nibble the ear when he is feeling lazy, seeing you blush and stammer, trying to push him away is always a sure way for him to get back his energy, he doesn't regret a single day now that you are by his side, and you will stay by his side until death do you part.

"You have no idea what you do to me, you make me crazy just seeing you, make me completely lovestruck just by hearing your voice. I can't believe you're mine"

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere female #yandere male #yandere columbina #yandere columbina x reader #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #yandere jing yuan #yandere jing yuan x reader

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ever-4sunlight · 27 days

Text

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 (𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏)

Includes: dottore, pantalone, childe, arlecchino

warnings: Sexuallity headcannons (my own opinion) and very bad English, mention of yandere actions in arlecchinos part

pronouns: none

1/2

𝑫𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆

He is... Lets just say a little weird but talks much he will tell you about who he experimented on all night long you wont be able to sleep

If he is tired he gets annoyed easily so dont talk much when hes not in the mood

hes a smart person why should he do what you say? He will command you around

He will 'accidentally' test some of his syringes on you when your sleeping

He wont have much time to spend with you he has to work on his experiments! Nothing is more important then his job

If your to lonely he will send on of his clones to cuddle with you while he can work without feeling bad for not spending time with you

He is totally against kids why should he raise some idiots that will be disrespectful when they grow up?

Im pretty sure that when he ever has free time he wont tell you how much he loves you but will show you how much he loves you

If he hugs you his hands will be placed on your waist if he has time to touch you he will touch you

He will give you everything you want (no child) not personally of course he has to work so a clone will do that for him

possible Sexuallity: confusing me as much as kazuha. _.

His love language is probably: physical touch

𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆

Hes tthe richest harbinger of all he will get you whatever you want it doesn't matter how much it costs everything for his love

He is working must of the time so he will send you little gifts

If he ever has free time he will probably go out with you doing whatever you want shopping or going to a restaurant he doesn't care he will go there with you

He would probably buy you a kitty or a puppy against the boredom when hes working

Buy you every type of clothing you want it doesn't matter to him how much it costs he has the big money

Hes not completely against kids but he's working to much to help you raising them and giving up his job is no option so think about it

He wont have much time to spend with you but he will feel bad leaving you alone all the time

As long as your safe everything is alright so he doesn't have to worry

If he comes back from work he will always have a gift for you and the hours you've waited

If he hugs your he wil lay you on his chest and just stroke your hair talking until you sleep

Possible Sexuallity: bi sexual

His love language is probably: gifts and words of affirmation

𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆/𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒂

Here we go with our all loved ed sheeran also known as tartaglia he is joking around like a little kid he loves you more then everything in this world

He is definitely not the smartest of the harbingers after all he is the 11th fatui harbinger the weakest and the dumbest? Im not calling him dumb im just not calling him smart

He is a harbinger he has practically no time like the other ones T-T

But i swear to you if he has a free day he will attack you with affection cuddling you for hours and telling you how much he loves you not letting go until he has to work again

If none of his fellow harbingers are near he will talk about his brother and his sister while holding you in his arms

He will hold you by your waist having his chin on your shoulder whispering into your ear how much he loves you

He will Probably never tell you what things he has done because hes scared that you will hate him for the bad things hes done

He wants kids! 100% he just wants to see mini versions of you running around (if your male just adopted or just think in omega verse:D)

His sexuallity is probably: im not sure... Bi or pan?

His love language is probably: physical touch and gifts

𝑨𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒐

There wwe go with or harbinger mommy shes not only sexy but overall just the perfect definition of toxic<3 but we still love her and she loves you too!

She's VERY possessive and if i say VERY I MEAN VERY she gets jealous by having you just talk to someone else thats not her your hers after all

Shes cold... Not only are her hands cold but shes just someone who barely shows emotions but no worries! She still loves you

If she comes home its late and your probably already asleep but she just cant help but lean your head against her chest when she lays down beside you she just wants to have her lover close!

If you disobey her your probably getting locked into your room to keep you away fron the 'danger' outside

The only person she trusts you with is herself obviously shes the one she can trust the most shes a father! She knows what she's doing

When ttalking about kids shes neutral... Just keep the screaming thing away... But at the same time its hers and it needs protection and care

Shes not talkative so dont annoy her to much!

Her sexuallity is probably: i would actually say shes a lesbian._. But for the more judgmental audience i say bi

Her love language is probably: acts of service

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contentloadingandstuff · 6 months

Text

Smut Headcanons - Signora & Arlecchino

A/N: The smut version of the spooky Halloween special. If evil, why hot? CW: Unhealthy/toxic relationships, Arlecchino being scary, manipulation, conditioning, hard femdom, humiliation, degradation, collars, pegging, cbt, estim.

For Signora, power is the name of the game.

She can safely consider herself one of the most powerful politicians of the Fatui, meaning she has thousands of men underneath her in the hierarchy. But controlling one, so very handsome, so privately? It's far, far more exciting than any kind of malicious trick she can pull on her underlings.

It's obvious who is in power here. La Signora, The Fair Lady, being a pleasure toy for a man? Simply unthinkable.

To keep this dynamic in mind, you'll always be naked during playtime, while she will be clothed (to a reasonable degree of course). Her outfit usually includes her favorite, very expensive fur stole, a delicate and slightly tight lingerie bra to hold up her massive tits, and a pair of panties - all of them the darkest shade of black, of course. It perfectly contrasts with her fair skin, and when one size too small, it makes your male brain melt at the sight of those curves.

Another piece of clothing she's fond of are her long, black, silk gloves. They are very thin, enough so that you can feel the warmth of her hands, but not the softness of her skin. And they stay on at all times. Did you seriously think she would touch your dirty cock with her bare hands?

And don't you dare cum on her, or any piece of her clothing. You are permitted to spill your filth only on yourself or the floor. If you fail to follow this simple instruction, you will find yourself liking your own seed clean.

Signora prefers you naked, but she gladly puts a collar around your neck. She tightens it to give you a reminder of who you belong to, and adds a leash for some extra power over you.

Signora enjoys a good dose of bullying, and she has many interesting ways of making you tremble with embarrassment before her.

The main one is depriving you of pussy. Sure, you get it during 'normal' sex, when either of you are too tired, or just not in the mood to do the standard routine, but it's generally a reward.

She likes to see you desperate, so expect to be offered a hard aphrodisiac before the session begins. That, in connection with edging or a short chastity term, brings out the most desperate, painfully horny male she so likes to observe.

Since her slit is a reward, most of the time you'll get a fleshlight instead. She'll watch, mouth agape, blushed with fingers knuckle deep in her cunt as you fuck the rubber pussy, whining and moaning so pathetically. Sometimes, when Signora feels the need to humiliate you even more than usual, she will make you fuck the fleshlight right on top of her pussy. The face you pull, knowing that her warm, wet hole is right there and still being unable to fuck it, is priceless.

If Signora feels especially nasty, she will give you just a pillow to satisfy yourself. Watching you hump it, whining and cringing at your own desperation, gives her the strongest orgasms.

Although she enjoys some real cock every now and then, The Fair Lady doesn't care that much about having normal sex. She's far more into fulfilling her own kinks, which gives her the sort of pleasure fucking can't compare to.

Why even ask for that when her paizuri skills are the best in all of Teyvat? If you behave, you'll finally see that tight bra dropped, and your dick buried in those amazing, fat globes. Signiora knows what she's doing - she'll be using lube and breaking up the standard stroking with some creative techniques that absolutely short circuit your brain with pleasure. A reward must be as thorough as a punishment, so Signora will edge you - not right to the edge so it doesn't feel disappointing when she stops - but more than enough to significantly prolong the experience.

Should you moan and beg nicely enough while fucking the rubber pussy or dry humping, she might even give you a hand in getting yourself off. Signora may be a quiet woman, but she enjoys when her sub is loud. And she will make you moan if you're naturally quiet.

She has her techniques. The main thing is to enhance the pleasure. Chastity, edging or drugs all do a great job in making you desperate, and thus more sensitive. She will order you to moan then, and after enough such training, your brain will make the right connections, making you moan naturally. She will train you as long as it is necessary.

But what if you don't listen to her orders? You cum when and where she didn't ask you to, or don't moan enough? Well, the punishments are rough and quite difficult to endure.

Signora has an affinity for hurting others, and it shows. Of course, you won't be hurt in an unfun way. You'll give her the limits, and she will make the most out of them.

The simplest way to hurt a man is to target his balls. It's a low hanging fruit, yes, but it gets her soaking wet when you tremble in her hands. She prefers the more refined way to deliver your torment - slapping, squeezing, or especially using her heels to make you cry.

Pegging is a punishment with her. After a rough fingering as prep time, you will be made to get on your hands and knees and take her studded cock. She's quite good at it - her hips work amazingly, having the dummy cock pleasure your prostate with every thrust, making you moan and whine at the relentless stimulation. Too bad, as Signora loves to humiliate you while pegging, especially if you cum.

"You call yourself a man, cumming from just being fucked in the ass? You really are pathetic~"

And then she'll fuck you post orgasm, just to hear you whine and beg even more.

Her Delusion isn't off limits either. Cooling down her finger and dragging it over your exposed, oh so sensitive head brings out the most pitiful, sexiest noises from you.

Extra enjoyment (for her) comes from spanking you. Painting your ass red with a cane or a whip, forcing you to moan, groan and whimper satisfies her sadistic side quite thoroughly, and gives you a painful reminder of the consequences of disobeying her.

Expect your hands to be tied during punishment. She loves to see you struggle against the bonds when she works on you, but would rather not be interrupted while administering the torture.

Signora will take great care to respect your limits. If she didn't, you would surely deny her all the freedom to do what she wants with you, losing her a very entertaining toy.

Oh, and because she loves you. That too.

For an onlooker, being with Arlecchino might look fairly normal, all things considered. Most of the time it's just vanilla sex with, surprisingly, her being the bottom.

But all of that? Just because she trained you so well.

She admires your masculinity, she really does. Your stoic approach to life makes you a pillar she can rely on, both emotionally and professionally, and your body never fails to set hers ablaze.

That's precisely why she does all of this. She loves your masculinity, she loves you. The Knave wants you all to herself, she wants you to be at her beck and call, she wants to control this strength, to have it satisfy her urges whenever she wants to.

Control. This is what she desires. Control not only over your soul, but over your body as well.

Arlecchino made this clear when you first got to this level of intimacy. And, quite foolishly, you agreed. But, really, how could you have resisted her unnatural, demonic allure?

Ordering you around wasn't enough for her. And so, she trained you to cum on command.

It took a lot of training, true, but for her? It was all worth it. She would pleasure you with a sleeve, and give you a countdown. If you finished at her mark, she would praise you and give you a fulfilling orgasm - certainly those were some of the best ever.

If you came too early, she would ruin your orgasm and lock your dick in chastity for the rest of the day. The pent up lust would be enough of an encouragement to do better next time.

The punishment for being too late was far worse. Instead of denying you, Arlecchino would force you to cum. And then one more time. And one more. And once more. And again, until you were crying, begging her to stop with tears in your eyes.

Enough said, after more than a dozen of such 'tough love' training sessions, your cock adjusted to her pace and you were able to cum whenever she told you to. This allows you to experience simultaneous orgasms, which are absolutely breathtaking. So, maybe this journey, filled with denial and post orgasm torture, was worth it…?

Another of her ideas was to control when you get hard. Believing that direct, harsh punishments for not meeting her expectations were more effective than words, Arlecchino connected an electrode to your nut sack and got to experimenting.

She wanted to see if she can condition you to harden only to her. She used the prettiest courtesans money could buy, and zapped your balls if you did get excited.

This was not a fun time.

Even if the experiment didn't succeed, she did manage to teach you to control your arousal more. So much so that you couldn't resist only direct stimulation, but always got hard at her own slightest suggestion. A great achievement, if you ask her.

Sometimes you fail to do precisely what she wants, or maybe even playfully stand up to her. In such cases, Arlecchino will be sure to administer a swift and severe punishment, always including your balls. It's the simplest way. Your lustful, male mind will get the message if she hurts your precious little jewels.

The torture includes squeezing them, pressing them between her two fingers with metal claws on, standing on them with the nails of her heels or, most terribly, crushing them with a toy.

Just to keep things interesting, Arlecchino regularly switches up the torture device. Once it is two flat glass panes, sometimes it's a narrow, workshop press, and sometimes it's spiked.

Although seeing you in pain doesn't bring her satisfaction, the way your whole body acts when she is punishing you is very… arousing. When the crusher is on, Arlecchino likes to sit over you, passionately making out with you. It's a little one-sided, as kissing her is notably difficult when your vulnerable balls are being pressed so tightly they turn white, but it never bothers her. More - it turns her on even more when your lips tremble, your body shivers or your speech becomes a flurry of pleas and cries.

The mix of fear and arousal is what rings her bells. She tends to randomly bite your dick while giving blowjobs - not hard to actually hurt you, but her teeth are sharp enough to really make you feel it. It doesn't help that her tongue is just as agile as she is eloquent. Arlecchino loves to take your cock in her mouth and look you straight in the eyes, see the mix of fear and arousal, and feel your hot length throb in confusion.

When you'll be trained to a satisfactory degree, Arlecchino will go back to more vanilla sessions. You might be the top, but make no mistake - she is the one in charge. Just one word from her is enough to make you change holes or positions, and a short countdown never fails to force your body to climax. You also know well not to do certain things - spanking her or being rough when unprompted can lead to a swift and severe punishment.

The penalties are for your own good, she says. Arlecchino claims that she doesn't enjoy hurting you, and that the torture is as painful to her as it is to you. Still, her moans and the speed at which she fingers herself while you suffer paint a different picture.

The majority of these sessions are fun to some degree, but sometimes Arlecchino can be very cruel. Can you say no? Well, in theory - yes. But is it a good idea to refuse her? Even if she claims she will be okay with that, you still have the stories in mind. Stories about how even her favorite subordinates could be sacked after one single failure, and vanish without a trace in the following weeks. She claims you're her first lover, but you can't for the life of you find proof for that statement. Nobody wants to utter a word about her previous lovers, even if a large bribe is on the table. The Knave did kill in the past, and with her own hands at that. Who says her previous interests couldn't be the targets of her wrath?

What's worse is that you're enthralled by her, emotionally and physically. This woman, a constant uncertainty of intentions, has you by the balls - both literally and figuratively.

Maybe it's better, then, to focus on the good, grit your teeth, open your legs and let her have her amusement.

🎃Happy Halloween!🎃

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ihatel1f3 · 2 months

Text

Hear me out. Sagau Fatui x Male Reader that's like 8'9 and has a warm personality. Basically like warm gentle giant.

Edit: Yall liek this?! [happy]

#pantalone x male reader #sub pantalone #sagau #dottore x reader #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau cult au #genshin imagines #fatui harbingers #il dottore #pantalone #sandrone #fatui arlecchino #fatui x reader #fatui fanart #genshin impact fatui #sagau fatui

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amphibiahawks321 · 2 months

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[Bows down]

Fatui agent #1 : you look very divine today miss Arlecchino....

Arlecchino : my appearance is none of your concern.....

Fatui agent #1 : Y-yes ma'am

Meanwhile

M!Reader : you're looking quite handsome today arle ^v^

Arlecchino : .....

[Grabs Y/N chin and lift it up to make eye contact]

Arlecchino : do i~

M!Reader : ╹⁠//// v ////╹⁠ ???

#male reader #reader x genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #reader x arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x male reader #arlecchino

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bunihyo · 7 months

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lynette brainrot <3 (btw if you sent a request I promise i’ll get to it!! i’m just slow lol. also, wattpad is @/knaveism if interested!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ COME COME, KITTY KITTY

bottom!lynette x gn!top! reader

cw!: nsfw, overstimulation, cunnilingus.

When you had asked Lynette to be your girlfriend, the first thing you noticed was not her stoic face as she agreed nonchalantly, but the excitable wag in her tail.

Every time you talked to her, she'd always wag a little more than she wanted to admit. And of course, every time she did; Lyney made fun of her endlessly. You on the other hand encouraged it! It was just too cute!

"Here to visit Lynette?" Freminet murmured, raising his head when you entered the tent of your favorite magicians. Nodding in reply, Freminet then gestures his head to the back room.

Happily walking back, you push past velvety red curtains and find Lyney tinkering with his hat. At the sound of your familiar steps he smiles but doesn't look up. "She's in her dressing room."

"Gotcha," You nod affirmatively. You already figured she would be. If Lyney wasn't forcing her to do work, she'd be happily lazying around like a cat on a warm day. Speaking of which, ducking past a few decoys of Lyney's Rosseland, you eventually find Lynette's room, color coded by a small blue cat outline.

Giving a knock first, you pause for a few seconds before speaking. "Lyn? It's me.”

Lynette's room is silent, as always, until a soft click sounds. Her door is now unlocked. Taking that as permission to enter you softly open the door and walk in, closing the door behind you. Lynette is by her makeup stand, doing soft touches here and there on her stoic face. When you walk in her eyes watch you from the mirror, tail swaying softly behind her.

"Hello Y/n," She nods, setting down her makeup brush. You walk behind her and wrap your arms around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder. Your hand draws soft patterns into her hip. Lynette relaxes into your hold, calmly shutting her eyes. Her tail curls around your waist.

"When do you go on stage?" You murmur, smiling at her in the mirror.

"Thirty minutes..."

She turns and nuzzles her head into your neck. You softly kiss the top of her head, hands gently brushing past the right leather parts of her outfit, sliding under until you are comfortingly rubbing her bare skin. Lynette sighs against you.

"Are you nervous?"

Her head shakes. "I'm not." She leans further into you, tail twitching occasionally. For the most part she's relaxing, despite the growing heat of her skin under your touch. "Will you be watching?"

"Naturally," You nod, pressing another kiss to her head. "Front row seats. I'll be with Freminet." Your thumb gently presses into Lynette's waist, and a quiet purr leaves her.

"Mh..alright.." There's a soft shake in her voice, and her legs. The end of her tail smacks against you, ears flattening softly. "Hey Y/n...?"

You hum, she continues by softly turning around and looking to you with a slightly bashful expression. "I... still have some time, before I go on stage.."

"Hm?" Raising a brow, you softly squint at her. "Are you asking me to..?"

Lynette's eyes flash away shyly, and her head slowly nods. "If you want to..." While it wouldn't be the first time you'd slept together, it certainly was rather rare for Lynette to outright ask you for it. But, you couldn't help but grin and nod along.

"Alright kitty," Lynette gives a soft purr under the nickname, as your hands find her hips and lift her up, sitting her down on her vanity. She adjusts for a few seconds, as you lean into her neck and brush aside her shirt collar, planting kisses up and down her pale neck.

Lynette's hands come up to drape over your neck, shivers rolling through her body. Her purrs send short vibrations through both of your bodies. Your hand trails up her thin waist, past the small dip between her chest, to the small hidden zipper of her outfit. You hook your fingers around the soft metal and tug it down.

Lynette gasps against you, the feeling of her once constricting outfit being free making her breathless. Your hand rubs up her smooth stomach, landing right between the valley of her needy perky tits. Pulling away from her neck, your mouth finds her own in a soft yet passionate kiss, tongue invading her quickly. She lets herself be overpowered, loving the way she nearly gags around you.

As you kiss, your hand rubs her chest lovingly, until you pull away and smirk down at her. "A little cold?" You tease, moving to flick one of the hardened nipples. "Or maybe... you're aroused~"

"If you... already know the answer," She sighs shakily when your hand cups one of her breasts teasingly, playing with her perky nipple. "D-Don't..make me say it...~"

Your thumb flicks her softly, watching her hips practically thrust your way. "Mm... be a good kitty now and be honest with me~ Have I gotten the pretty kitty all hot and bothered?~"

Lynette whines softly, as you kiss down her neck again, this time to her neglected nipple, which you easily tug into your mouth. She hisses softly and bucks her chest forward. "Mphn~ Y-yes... yes I'm.. very aroused when you t-touch me like this...~"

Your tongue swirls around the hardened bud, sucking and tugging it, skimming your teeth over its puffed end. As Lynette whines into you, you switch to her other nipple and administer the same treatment, until Lynette is crumbling beneath you.

Pulling off her chest with a pop, you kiss slowly down her smooth stomach, leaning her back as you do. Your lips pull away when you reach the hem of her skirt, and you teasingly inch it down until her legs are softly spread, skirt hanging down around her ankles, thin panties covering her dripping pussy.

"My~ You really are aroused, little kitty~"

Lynette's breathing is sporadic, her perky chest heaving up and down with every breath. "P-please..~ Touch me....~"

Your hand moves to her panties, gently dragging them down to expose the full wetness she'd garnered over such a small amount of time. Her tail feverishly hit at the vanity beneath her, and with each thumb you came closer and closer until your mouth was directly on her pussy. Almost immediately a whine mixed with a moan left the back of her throat, hips jumping up and pushing herself further into your mouth.

You lick and swirl at her puffy clit, coating your mouth and parts of your face in her arousal. Honestly you didn't care, not when Lynette was shyly groping at her chest, pinching and rolling her puffed up nipples between her fingers with each touch.

"Mmph~ Ahh~ Y/n..~" Her soft whines of pleasure sounded like music to your ears as you dipped your tongue down to her desperate core and easily pushed in, stretching her wide open for you.

Her needy noises only grew louder and louder, hips bucking further into you. She tried her best to stay quiet, knowing her brothers were still in the same vicinity, but they way you desperately ate her out drove her crazy, and the lapping of your tongue against her velvety walls was enough to make your head spin.

Lynette's walls squeezed desperately around your tongue adoringly, grinding desperately onto you. "Hhn~ Nnghh~ Oh, Y/n~ I-I..!~"

Just as she inched closer to her peak, a knock sounded on her door. "Lynette! Five minutes til showtime!" Lyney's snickering voice called. Lynette's eyes widened in horror, but you refused to step down from her pussy, fucking her faster.

"O-okay Lyney..!" A low moan fell from her lips after her call, as she desperately moved against you. Her arousal practically coated not just your face, but her own thighs. She clamped around your head with a whine. "Please..~ Oh archons, Y-Y/n..~"

Smirking into her, you shove your tongue in one final time, making her completely spasm. Ears and tail pointing on end as she pushes and pulls from you, coming hard into your mouth. "Y/n!~"

When her spasms finally calm down, you slip your tongue out of her. Her tail lays limp on her thigh, trembles still rolling through her. You stand and lower your hand to her overly stimulated pussy, rubbing her throbbing clit.

"Good kitty..~" You praise, watching shivers roll through her hazy eyes. The scent of lust is thick in the room, and it makes you want nothing more than to please her all over again, having her lean desperately against the vanity.

Lynette fiddles softly with her panties and skirt, hooked around her ankles. Snapping out of whatever haze you were in, you softly helped her pull up the articles, cleaning the arousal off her thighs.

"Two minutes!"

Lynette shakes under your every touch, her nipples still rock hard even with the tight leather against them. "You're so pretty," You smile, kissing her head softly. One of her eyes shuts softly, a hint of a smile blooming on her face.

"Thank you, Y/n.."

With her cleaned up now, you bid your goodbyes with a few more kisses, before making your way to the audience. Sitting down next to Freminet, you hide your muffled giggles behind your hand when Lynette comes onto stage with Lyney, a very obvious wobble in her steps.

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neosero · 3 months

Text

[ 01:15pm ] and sometimes you have to remind yourself they’re gods |

pt. ii Fontaine Version |

wc | 4.1k+ total

noteworthy warnings | gn!reader; dark themes; descriptions of drowning, death, false descriptions of the primordial sea aftermath, spoilers for archon quest 4.2 and beyond ( furina ); implied-kidnapping, false imprisonment [ ? ], i do not know how the court of law works womp womp, spoilers for version 4.2 and beyond ( special mention )

THE HYDRO ARCHON Focalors Furina | wc. 2.2k+

Have you heard…

The only place in all of Teyvat where rumors hold merit lies within Fontaine. Although it is the kingdom built on the ideals of a just society, its citizens aren't privy to the appeals of a tantalizing scandal or a possible scoop that has yet to hit The Steambird front page.

( What hasn't been proven within the Court, is just another wave in the sea of lies. )

A saying often passed around when undisclosed news spreads like spilled wine throughout the streets, but it’s only to show faux indifference. Even the most proper of citizens still sit with bated breaths awaiting the next whispered word on the street.

Especially when it's in relation with that of the Regina of all waters, kindreds, people and law. Lady Furina De Fontaine.

…she was there you know. The day of the Mont. Esus massacre.

"What are you doing here?"

Furina jumps in surprise, completely absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear your approach. She is quick to recover though, fixing her posture and outstretching her arms diagonally. “Can an Archon not come to bask in the scenery of her domain?" She spins slowly, sunlight aided with the gentle breeze to illuminate the flow of her garments.

You push air through your nose. "Right my apologies, your grace." You bow just as exaggerated as the woman before you. She smiles to herself at the gesture, returning the bow herself. Just as you stand upright she grasps your hand, dragging you over to the pond she was previously fixated on so intently.

The water is perfectly stilled, the breeze does nothing to shift its tranquility and the sight of your reflections together is so peaceful. The clouds above dance behind you and some birds even fly overhead to give show. It’s too peaceful.

You pull away from her grasp, unlacing your interlocked hands.

The action brings a ripple through the pond.

"Furina...what are you doing here?" You question more seriously. Not only is it just past midday, around the same time she would normally spend tasting the many delicacies of Fontaine, but also Mont. Esus is too far from the Opera Epiclese. She would never miss a chance to see the scheduled retelling of Mort au bord de L'eau, so for her to be here of all places now isn’t a good sign.

"You hurt me with such inquiries. I just wanted to see the sights, and I find it better for such a celebrity as myself to remain discreet unless I cause such a scene in your peaceful town." Her arms fold over her chest, seeming all too pleased with her own answer. You should be able to take her words as they are, but in light of recent events you can see right through her cover up.

"You come in through the main docks and pass through the main trails of the city — where everyone can see you — to be discreet?"

"Yes, precisely."

"Furina, what's going on? This isn't like you at all." You cross your arms as well, eyebrows cast down in confusion. She shrugs at that, finding it better for once to keep her mouth shut than clear her name. You press on.

"Does this have anything to do with that trial?" The news of the Court is hard to escape, even for those of Fontaine's who choose to stay off the grid like you do. It has become the first widespread topic of the town here; the Hydro Archon wrong!

It’s all anyone would ever talk about since the trials climax and it's been weeks. To be frank, you’re tired of it. Not only has it caused work around the town to slow, but also people have started to believe your close relationship with the archon means you must know every detail. You’ve been fighting for a private moment to yourself for so long it feels weird to not see any people gawking at your every move. With the amount of attention you’ve been getting you can only imagine the scale of paparazzi that have been on Furina’s back.

So, the trial is the only plausible cause and seeing how stiff she gets with the question means you hit a nerve. She looks far more uncomfortable now, gaze turned to the shaking pond beside your feet.

When did this start?

“Everyone has their off days, Furina. I’m sure one wrong verdict won’t kill you.” You had thought the words would give some light relief to the situation, but her body shutters looking paler than she had before. Her neck turns in your direction so quick you fear it would snap. She looked at you almost as if you’d actual meant it. Her expression concerns you, you reach out to her but fall short.

The ground is shaking and you stumble to find good footing. “An earthquake?” You think out-loud, the shaking picks up again with an aggression that throws Furina into your arms. This is no normal earthquake.

…she had the nerve to cry at the trial as if this wasn’t her own undoing.

The tremor increases in ferocity, your balancing wavering as it feels like the earth would open up right underneath your feet. "What's happening?" Furina voice quivers as she clings to you desperately. You cannot tell yourself what this could be but the screams in the distance vocalize the worst possibility. You break away from her, accidentally shoving her to the ground but you cannot find it in yourself to care right now. The quakes have you crawling up the top of the mountain as best you can to catch sight of the commotion from your town below...and it's a ghastly sight.

Buildings explode one by one as the townspeople run for their lives. Geysers in the color of vibrant blues and purples shoot out from where their homes and businesses once stood mere seconds ago. The water ( if you can even call it that ) continues to burst from the earth in great force, forcing many of the people to the ground with its violence. The citizens you can make out from this distance trample over one another, parents screaming for lost children and others yelling for people to get to the docks or any high place away to where it could be safe. It’s a disaster.

And the worst had yet to come.

The geysers let out a gentle rain as the strange liquid pours down to mix in with the blood and tears of the fallen. Slowly one by one the legs of the townspeople can't seem to hold their weight, the hands they use to crawl away with a desperate urgency become translucent and the screams lodged in their throats sink into the now rising waters leaving behind nothing but damp clothes.

They are dissolving.

Furina gasps at your side. The dirt on her knees shows she’s crawled her way up the mountain too. She brings her gloved hands up to shield her from the gruesome sight. You cannot explain why it angers you. Watching her sit here and cower in fear when she is supposed to be a god; it lights a match in your heart. You fall to her level, screaming.

"You’re the Hydro Archon! Furina, do something!" You clutch your archon by the shoulders, grip tight and painful with your distress. Those are your friends down there, your citizens — her beloved kin. She should be diving in to save them and not stuck here rooted to the floor like a child.

"I can't." Furina stutters broken, the tears you hadn’t even noticed continue more fiercely down her face collecting with the snot and drool. You had never seen her this broken before.

"The prophecy...it...I cannot fight this” She hiccups. She continues to mumble words with a meaning you cannot understand even as you let her go. You rack your brain for everything you could possibly do in this situation. A few people in the distance have managed to find a place high enough above ground to beat the rising waters and with enough coverage to block out the acidic rain. If you can get to the docks unscathed and take a boat you could save.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and stand. Looking out to the sea you can make out a few boats still close to the docks, though the rocking waves could drift them away any moment. You take a few strides backwards. It is now or never.

"Prophecy or whatever, I won't just watch them all die." The glider solidifies on your back, Anemo vision drawing out a faint glow as Furina clutches her top hat as the wind suddenly picks up. Her eyes widen as she watches you turn to the edge of the cliff, "You don't mean to go down there!"

You ignore her, sweat trickling down your temple. You extend your arms ready to dive. Ready to jump.

But she isn't ready to let you go.

Just as your feet leave the ground, Furina hands fly out to grab you. "No!" The thought of you ending up like them, left with nothing but a wad of damp clothing to remember you has her spring into action. She cannot lose you like this, she won't.

She clutches onto the material of your glider tightly preventing your descent. "What are you doing?!" You look behind you as you watch her dangle from the cliff, strange hydro creatures mimicking the ones you have seen along the beaches of Fontaine keep her from falling and you from flying any further out of reach. "Let me go!"

She doesn't budge determined to get you back as these creatures are determined to pull her back to the safety of Mont. Esus...all uncaring of the tearing fabric.

There isn’t enough time to notice it either, not until it's too late. The audible tear brings you both back to reality but everything feels slowed. Her gaze falls to the piece of cloth in her hands and then to your descending body. Your hands outstretched to one another but already too far to reach. With half a functioning glider you cannot steady yourself right, only left to flail and spin uncontrollably into the welcoming embrace of the primordial sea.

Furina doesn’t know why she watches it all. Maybe as a punishment for her inability to live up to being an archon, or a sort of cruel torture to remind herself she is just like everyone else: human.

Whatever it may be, watching you flail and wither in the sea with your arms slowly melting and mixing in with the water. Watching you look up gaze up at her stoic and unwavering in your final moments. Seeing your clothes resurface but not you.

It just shows her how terrifyingly real it all is.

…she still visits the graves apparently; talking, watering and replacing the flowers of one the tombs herself.

It's been six months since the primordial sea almost swallowed Fontaine whole.

Furina kneels with her knees to her chest talking to her reflection in the pond atop of Esus. Her reflection mirrors her every move but the wind distorts the water and leaves the growing clouds in the sky moving at a quick pace trying to follow.

Neuvillette must be overworking himself again.

Even so, she continues to relay the events of the new Fontaine. How the people have grown accustomed to knowing the truth behind her — no, Focalors' lies. The talk of being oceanids is more of a passing joke now than a belief of origin. The people have grown to embrace the Opera once again as well, she even mentions her recent debut as a director. Her smile is as soft and bright as the sun peaking through the clouds. The birds join in her conversation, chirping as they pass by and some circle around her.

It's all so peaceful, until it isn’t.

“Furina.”

The voice is gentle, like a whisper of the wind during a new spring morning. She knows it isn’t behind her or anywhere else around her, so she looks back down to the lake.

Instead of her reflection, it’s you who smiles back.

“Let me go, Furina.”

Her eyes water, just like before.

"I'm so sorry."

A stray tear falls from her cheek into the water and the ripple it leaves changes its color. A once clear blue shifts to the same vibrant purples of that day. Your face isn’t happy anymore, instead that same anger expression that plagues her worst nightmares has returned.

“You’re the Hydro Archon! Do Something!”

“Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”

The lake begins to bubble as you yell out to her. The grass around the edge dies off slowly, shifting to an ugly black goop. The birds squawk in distress and take flight away from the danger. Even through it all, Furina’s smile never wavers as she stands. She turns away, tears freefalling off her cheeks now as she descends the mountain like every other day.

Your screams follow her along like the howling wind. She clutches a ripped garment into her chest tenderly, the only piece of you she has left to remember.

Have you heard, near the summit of Esus rests Lost Lovers Lagoon - the last place the primordial sea submerged. If you listen closely you can still hear the cries of those lost to the storm. Some say it was left by someone higher than the archons, to remind us not to question the gods ever again. Some say the souls of the guilty go there to rot away. No one really knows how this came to be or why Mount. Esus... no one but the Hydro Archon who still keeps secrets from her people. Never having learned her lesson.

THE HYDRO SOVEREIGN Neuvillette | wc. 1.8k+

"Murderer!"

Your attorney, your mother, tells you to still yourself.

She reminds you not to react to their uncivilized behavior lest you want this to all be for nothing. The court of Fontaine is unforgiving and if you show even the slightest mistake of doubt they will chew you through like wolves to fresh prey. Never in your life have you seen such barbaric treatment in the court of law, but then again you shouldn't have expected much within the land of faux justice.

It's comical how even that thought would have sitting here in the position you are in now. Anything done within this city could be held against you in the court of law: freedom of speech, missing the trash can, accidental injury, hell even unauthorized balloon holding would get you a spot in the opera's next grand showing if you are a criminal or just an accused victim.

You hold your head high in your best attempt to seem unaffected by the heckles that only increase in number and volume. Having only been within the hydro-powered city for a few weeks, it's an action you have to learn lest you would want to gaze upon the walls of the Fortress the next century. Any emotion can make you a guilt-ridden convict under the gaze of the Opera Epiclese, so fighting for the public opinion is the only true way to win the court.

Public opinion here holds more merit than any substantial evidence presented could ever anywhere else in Teyvat. The mockery of the court being held in an opera house only adds more salt to your open wound. For if you fail to entertain in your fight for survival here...

Then what right do you have to continue living anywhere else?

"Retched butcher! You should have never been allowed into our city!"

"Order!" Neuvillette brings his cane down onto the wooden floor. The action rings an echo through the court so loud it stuns the audience into a silence. "I would advise against any more expletives, unless you wish to be escorted outside." His gaze scans through the crowd as they all settle into their seats.

You had believed the only real justice in this city was the man before you. The Iudex of Fontaine, Neuvillette was the overseer of all trials within Fontaine and the final say in every verdict. It is hard enough to see countless trials a week let alone your lifetime. However, he still attends them all, forgoing all personal connections to conduct a fair and just trial for both parties.

You had met the man the first day you arrived in Fontaine. He was there to greet your family and offered his welcomes to your mother for her promotion into the Court. He talked literature with your father to your housing, and even offered him a chance to visit his office to view the past trial records. Of course, you only saw this for its pleasantry; he was your mother's boss so the first meeting would be so polite and formal - for first impression's sake.

So it was only polite of you to allow his lips to grace your palm in greeting. You had believed it to be a foreign greeting, you are overseas and your research of Fontaine's culture and craft had little to do with their way of introduction. However in the eyes of Monsieur Neuvillette, you opened your heart to his courting.

For the trials you had come to see for your mother, a bouquet of flowers would be waiting in your seat with no signed owner. Desserts from the finest bakers would be given to you at restaurants free of charge on the count of a nice gentleman. Your father would come to your room to deliver a package of priceless jewelry that you couldn't even tell him the origin of. All still with no name.

It went on like this for weeks; the boxes kept piling in your room and you had started to send some of the jewels back, you started to decline the desserts having had way too many already and the sight of those flowers constantly brought a shake to your brows. You would have filed a report to the gardes if your secret admirer hadn't made himself known on your way home from lecture. Taking your regular route through the park, it was a surprise to see the Iudex occupying one of the benches. At his side the same set of flowers you cannot seem to escape.

You greet him out of respect and it's a greeting he returns. You both stand there in awkward silence for a while, his gaze piercing as he doesn't bother to look away from you at all. You clear your throat to fill the silence and it seems to snap him out of his daze, outstretching the flowers to you. You take them of course, feigning interest and taking a whiff of them. The smell irritates your nose. "These are lovely."

"You've noticed them."

"Well, they are beautiful and everywhere on display around the city. That and someone keeps sending them to me for some reason." You give a dry laugh picking off some of the petals, but Neuvillette doesn't notice your disinterest in the slightest. He looks almost relieved with your answer.

"Then you've enjoyed the desserts here as well?" The question turns the gears in your head. You raise a brow. "Uhm. They are sweet and delicious but I've had my fill of them until my next lifetime."

This brings a crease to Neuvillette's brows. "Do you not like the deserts, anymore? If the quality is the issue then I can have prepared differently to your tastes better. It shouldn't be too much of an issue with-."

"Wait wait. What are you talking about? Has all of this been you?"

"Yes. Have... have you not known?" He questions back just as confused as you are. These were the methods he has seen used on many of the performers of Fontaine, surely he hadn't taken the wrong approach.

You're baffled. "Of course not! You can't just do stuff like this without getting to know someone first, or informing them you are even interested."

"But is this not how you show interest in a partner?"

His words flow so calmly and yet still confused as if he had made a mistake. You hold the bridge of your nose. It feels like you're teaching a child, how has he not known basic romantic interaction in his time?

"Oh heavens. You're my mother's boss, Monsieur Neuvillette. Even if I had any interest, this wouldn't be right to do." You speak calmly, gesturing to the flowers between you both. "It would raise too many questions and put my mother's job at risk."

"I wouldn't want to get in her way of success, or take you away from the court you really love." Neuvillette takes in your words solemnly, nodding as he brings his hands to his chin.

"Of course. You are right. I was being selfish, please accept my deepest apologies."

You did, if things were different then maybe it could have been. However, as things stand it would just be inappropriate to agree. You hand him back the flowers and bid him farewell. A low rumble of thunder picks up in the sky suddenly, and it leaves you scurrying home trying to save your notes from the intense downpour. Leaving Neuvillette behind drenched in his sorrows.

Of course you should have known better, things are never that easy. There are no tragedies within this city, Neuvillette will make sure of that.

"With all the evidence presented we shall now look to the Oratrice Mec-. Hm...my apologies."

A silence rings through the Opera, one that leaves a chill down your spine. It was a recent development within Fontaine, one that still holds a full page in the Steambird papers that you can't escape: the dismissal of the Hydro Archon, Furina. Prior to this, Neuvillette would always have a second opinion, one that even lady Furina wouldn't object to. The Oratrice Mecanique D'analyse Cardinale was a solidifier for Neuvillette for when even he had doubts for a verdict, like now.

But that machine is no more. Now the final decision is his alone.

There is no Hydro Archon to look over, no machine to solidify his verdicts for trials. He is the power of Fontaine; the pinnacle of the nation of justice. He is the overseer of what is good or evil, what is just and unjust in his society.

Whatever choice he makes now will be the final decision. His word would be law. And you would have to follow it without question.

Whether right or wrong.

A glow begins to rise at the tips of his hair, something only you seem to notice. Your heart rate picks up. Neuvillette sighs deeply, an action that drops your father's heart into his stomach. Your blood runs cold.

"As Supreme ruler of Fontaine, I hereby declare the accused guilty of all charges."

Your father wails at your side, crumbling to his knees in sorrow. Your mother takes the glasses off her face in defeat, her hands coil around the bearings as she herself fights the unshed tears. Everything was in your favor; the verdict should have gone to them. Your hands shake at your sides in disbelief.

"However, I see a light of hope in your case. So you will not be banished to the Fortress of Meropide."

What? Your head darts to the judge. If not the Fortress, then-

"I will see to your parole myself, and personally ensure justice is upheld. It'll give you a second chance to reconsider your choices." Your father seems to cry harder in glee, standing on wobbly legs to embrace you. Your mother holds him there, thanking the judge for his generosity and sparing you a chance. The crowd follows suit in praise and applause, heckles turned cheers as they all claim him the true Sovereign of Justice. Their sudden mood change leaves a terrible stir in your gut.

Your parents hold you close in their arms in the belief that they won't have to go without seeing you for long. Your father cannot calm his tears, and your mother grips your shoulder firmly as he tells you to be on your best behavior in order to repay this blessing. However, you couldn't care less about any of them as they have fallen to the enemy. You center your gaze on the cold hard stare of the man on the pedestal.

Neuvillette doesn't look away from you, taking in the anger and disbelief that seethes from you in what you can only think is curiosity. You should curse him, launch your shoe across the stage and force a worse sentence that would keep you far away from him but you are too drawn to his stare to move.

In all that time you spent together you had never noticed but...

Were his irises always so narrow?

a/n i | sorry yall this should've been done weeks ago but neu's part really messed me up like it wasn't writers block or anything because the ideas were there i just didn't like any of them ( including this one but this was sadly the best one i could put into words )

a/n ii | to the anon and others who have shown interest in another installment of the 'archon' collection just know i haven’t forgotten about you i just wanted to do this first becuz i wanted to include a certain someone in that request! i swear the next part will be sooner than the two months it took for this to complete do not hate me anon!!

#furina x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin angst #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin imagines #[ gem’s timestamps — ⌚️ ]#fyi part one was made pre fontaine and i had barely gotten through act one of the quest #finally got through with this #fontaine characters are really something to me #i had a moment with both characters because they're #just so dear to me along with their tragedies #also thought about adding arlecchino ( the knave ) to this #but she isn't from fontaine and also i need more info on the harth

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