Daylite

Indulgence makes the brain juices go ✨

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Throwaway/self indulgent sideblog for blog here! Asks temporarily closed! Not expecting much from this blog but I wanted somewhere to toss my scraps so they’re not sitting in my docs. If I reblog something on here its probably an accident lol.

Ask Rules Here

[daylite-writes]

Quality Time - Feitan x Reader

You’ve grown used to Feitan’s idea of “quality time”

cws: kidnapped!reader, Cat Hybrid!reader, yandere implications, torture of a unnamed character, budding Stockholm syndrome

450 words

~~~

Six months with Feitan. Six of them. Six you’ve spent living in his basement, the same one he drags his helpless victims to so he could pry them over and make them spill their guts.

You had a mattress in the far corner of the basement. In clear view of that table with straps and chains, but far enough away that the blood splatters didn’t stain your blankets.

Feitan always seemed pleased with you watching it.

This time it was an older male. He was still in a tuxedo from whatever businessman-y type things he was up to before Feitan took him. Feitan didn’t glance to look at you, but you knew he saw. Pretty little you, a cat hybrid or similar, with feline ears and a tail. Feitan worked, spilling blood and asking questions.

The man screamed and begged. The surprisingly shrill sound ached in your feline ears, making them twitch slightly. An involuntary movement, but one he noticed.

“What?” Feitan immediately said, you knew he caught everything. No matter how slight the movement.

Quietly, you lowered yourself deeper into the blanket you were curled up on. “Loud…”

Feitan immediately turned back to the shrieking victim, grabbing him by the throat. In his focus, it allowed you to close your eyes for the half second it took him to silence his screaming into a small, gasping wheeze.

You opened your eyes before he could realize you closed them. A small part of hou flickered with guilt over causing the punishment. The rest of you were just numb. It was significantly less loud now anyways.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

He didn’t respond, resuming his interrogation session.

You continued to lounge quietly for the rest of it. It was a normal routine for the two of you at this point. If not for the screaming, blood, and crack of bone, it might even be considered quality time. And, after so long of doing this with him, you started to pick up on the little things; how close the victim was to breaking, Fietan’s mood, the general level of transgression his victim performed.

This man was most likely just a lackey for another, bigger problem that Fietan and the troupe needed to deal with. There wasn't an edge of gleeful retribution, not much personal information mentioned in Feitan’s mocking. Nope, just a lackey that doesn't mean much.

You yawned, opening your mouth wide, sharp canines glinting in the dim basement light. A small signal to Feitan his session was cutting into dinner time. You usually cooked, if only to save the both of you from

Feitan turned his head slightly to the side to acknowledge you. “Done soon. Patient kitty.”

You laid your head back down in your mess of blankets, lazily blinking back at him.

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Heads up about dark/yandere Genshin content on this page—it is no longer being written and no longer on my accepted requests list.

I have stopped playing Hoyoverse related games due to the obvious issues with Natlan and their approach to representation and cultures. This comes after a good bit of spending time and money on the game too.

I want genuine and heartfelt representation in my media, and I realized that’s not going to come from such a heavy corporatized game. On the plus side I’ve been into a lot of indie games, as well as playing some classic games (Bioshock, Skyrim) through again and for the first time, and I’ve been writing/coding to make my own game (might make a side blog for that too)!

I stopped playing a good bit ago, but before that I had started working on a few asks. I’m unsure if I’ll finish any, but I know for a fact I won’t start on any more. Sorry to all I disappoint.

For what I will be writing for next, I’m not sure. This blog will probably always be a dumping place for dark/yandere content, but I don’t expect a lot of attention on it. I may write for HxH as I want to pick it back up and I love reading for it.

Any suggestions for media y’all have I would be happy to look into watching/playing, and maybe even writing for!

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I know I just write yandere Genshin on this account but I can’t NOT talk about this

Holy fuck how are Natlan characters this terrible??

Summoning my inner Karen as I send emails, leave a review on the AppStore, and submit complaints in the feedback section. Do the same

When your colorism effects how you portray other cultures, it becomes racism.

Reverse 1999 and AFK Journey/Arena are so much better. Let them know.

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“A healers Blunt Teeth” (Pt 2) ft. Capitano x Healer!Reader

(Pt 1 here)

He did take you back to Snezhnaya with him, leaving you alone in a manor. The discomfort you feel at not having received a single letter since he departed was surely not from you loving him or anything. Surely.

cws: very mild yandere, mild cultural insensitivity (on behalf of staff), and misunderstandings.

1.6k words

~~~

You didn’t expect the… luxury.

You suppose you should have.

He was a harbinger after all. When he stepped foot in Snezhnaya—you under his arm, of course—you didn’t get the best first impression. Cold, snowy forests of pine with the ridges of icy mountains lining the horizon. But the deeper you ventured into his home, the more his influence became apparent.

Entire villages greeted the expedition with deep bows and offerings of food and housing. You slept in beds made for the cold, among rabbit fur and goose down.

He never batted an eye, but that wasn’t unusual. Be it dry dirt or luxurious bedspreads, Capitano was content.

You expected him to continue onwards with you, towards the Tsaritsa’s palace, the expedition's final destination you’d heard mentioned a thousand times in his meetings.

Evidently, you were wrong about that part, being as you were lounging in the bay window Capitano’s manor, alone except for a staff of loyalists.

As your… Partner? ‘Boyfriend’ maybe—no, that was far too juvenile. Not master either, he hated that term, and it no longer adequately described the complex relations between you two.

Being Capitano’s someone-of-significance had him deciding to dump you into a remote manor somewhere in Snezhnaya, leaving with a quick kiss and a promise to return home after his meeting with the Tsaritsa.

He dragged you all the way to Snezhnaya, and didn’t even let you go with him to the palace.

Angrily—and yes, it was anger. Not loneliness or longing or any other emotion the young maids would describe it as, accented by dreamy sighs as they theorized about you and his’ beautiful courtship—you tore the page of sheet music from the book propped in front of you.

Music was too hard and it made your fingers hurt.

You’d spent the better parts of two weeks in the manor, and it was boring. You were out of your depths, the maids knowing more about noble and elite life than you ever imagined anyone could know.

One of the maids said it herself not long after your arrival. “You’re nothing like what I imagined Capitano’s fiancé would be. Of course, none of us really know his preferences. But if not a warrior, I’d thought you may have been a noblewoman, knowledgeable about music or literature, or perhaps cooking. I once served a noblewoman who made very exquisite cuisine.”

“We’re not engaged.” You’d said, a bit breathless as she tightened the corset.

The other maids who’d been fluttering about shushed her a bit too aggressively for you to consider it noble.

You’d ignored them, until one of the shier ones spoke up. “If I may ask, my lady… how did you two meet?”

“I was a healer in Natlan working for a group of bandits. He won me by right of combat, and eventually we began… well.” You waved your hand, summing up the obvious physical and emotional relations with proper censorship but no denial. “I’m not quite sure what to call the two of us.”

The maids were stunned, and you remembered that such things as that weren’t normal in other nations. You opened your mouth, hoping to amend their opinions of you, but one of them spoke first—

“Oh so he saved you! How romantic!”

The session devolved into a series of awws. They giggled and tousled your hair as they fixed it up, rambling aloud about the romantic scenario.

It took everything in you to not take it personally. To remember that these were the daughters of affluent families who could not afford to marry off another daughters, but could land them a cushy spot working under a harbinger in a non-combatant role. Who probably spent their youths reading fairy tales instead of fighting or healing the way you had.

You rolled your eyes, letting the girls have their fun. These young women were your only friends in this new place after all. There was little point to complain.

~~~

It was clear Capitano would be coming home soon.

There was a certain buzz among the staff. Tasks that were once laxly carried out only when there was time for it were now being performed rigorously and thoroughly. Floors once mopped were now being scrubbed by servants on their hands and knees. Libraries lightly dusted once or twice a week were practically being done by the hour.

There was a buzz among your hand maids as well. They became very, very particular about your appearance. Every day your hair was to be done up in what you can only assume are traditional northern styles. The soft comfortable outfits you’d taken preference to gently batted aside and replaced with expensive tailored dresses, with beaded bodices and tulle that reached partway down your legs.

Refusing such things also made your hand maids very nervous. A lot of ‘are you sure’-s and ‘but my lady!’-s.

From this, you quickly figured out that he’d be back any day now.

So, when you spotted a horse drawn carriage trotting up the path to your manor from a window, you knew what expectations they had.

Greet him at the door, preferably warmly, probably with a kiss, and then follow him around like a lost puppy.

You rolled your eyes before going back to failing to play the violin.

“Um, miss?” One of your handmaids said softly. “Your… Lord Harbinger Capitano seems to be arriving.”

“Mm.” The violin screeched at you as you clumsily played it.

“I… alright. Miss.”

It wasn’t that you hated Capitano. Or that you didn’t want to see him. You were a bird in a golden cage, yes, but Capitano never bothered to close the door, and you never bothered flying out. It was just—

He didn’t even write to you.

The violin made quite an annoying sound as you pressed a bit too hard on the bow, its wavering screech the perfect sound to accompany the grind of your teeth.

Sure, he was undoubtedly busy, but that didn’t erase the embarrassment you’d experience every time you had to ask if any mail for you—any letters from him—came through, only to be told not so much as a word had come from his lord. Didn’t erase the feeling of being some discarded housewife while your lover galivants around the country without you—

The violin had picked up a sharp, angry tune as you played the song through all your little mistakes, not stopping even as you played incorrect notes or lost your place, you could hardly hear it through the rant in your head.

“I see you’ve picked up the violin.” Him.

Immediately, your song stopped. You hadn’t realized he’d entered, hadn’t realized you missed his voice.

“L-Lord Harbinger!” You maid squeaked, bowing. Capitano must have made some motion to her, as she left the room quickly after.

He stayed silent for a moment, and you stayed turned towards the window. “… why are you upset with me?”

“I’m not.”

“Why are you upset with me.” He repeated again, and you suddenly noticed how much closer he was to you. You didn’t hear the footsteps as he loomed over your shoulder.

“I…”

“Has the accommodations been insufficient? Was the staff unpleasant? I’ll have them dead in an instant if they were who upset you against me.” His hand, gloved, tilted your head back by the chin so you had to look up at him. Into the dark maw of his uniform.

“No Captain…”

“Then why? Why have you refused me the right to be greeted home by my woman? The right to see you as I’ve longed to? There must be something wrong, considering you haven't so much as responded to a single letter-”

“You wrote me?” You said all too quickly when you heard the words come from the man over you. Distantly, you chastised yourself for the almost desperate way you asked it. Like a woman starved for water.

He stilled, putting together the pieces easily. “Ah, so that’s what it is. Yes, I wrote to you many times, my healer.”

“I didn’t receive any.”

The hand that was lifting your face up shifted to the side, idly messing with a lock of your hair before cradling the crux of where your jaw met your neck. “I am realizing that now.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I did, greatly.”

You paused a moment, the small sparks of spite that once had you melted away partially, leaving you feeling a bit silly. “I…”

“Don’t apologize. This is someone else’s fault, I’ll deal with them later.” He said, moving around you to your front, and kneeling down before you.

The hand cradling your pulse slipped to the back of your neck, lightly pulling you into him. You kissed him through the gaping maw of his mask. It was rough, as though it was the single thing he’d been wanting for weeks. His hand tightened, pulling your hair by the roots to expose your neck. You gasped when you felt his lips on your jaw, traveling down to your throat.

It was a while before he pulled back, satisfied at the aggravated red skin his attention left. Most likely so that the staff could see it and know.

You stared at him, chest rising and falling quickly, but not scared. He seemed happy, or perhaps, at peace, as he stared back.

A polite, quiet knock on the door finally brought his gaze away from you. He spoke, loud and clear, “Yes?”

“Dinner is set for you the Lord and his Lady.”

He rose, standing to his full height before extending a hand to you. “You’ll be joining me I hope?”

“… yes, my lord.” You took it.

~~~~~

The og is pretty far back and i am grappling with the fact i probably should make a masterlist (i dont wannaaa) but i hope ya'll enjoy this <3

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HARBINGERS REACT TO READER ATTEMPTING TO KILL THEM OR TSARITSA—AND IF YOU SUCCEED? (ft. Pierro, Capitano, Pantalone)

Part 1 is here! Sorry about how late this is. Not sure if the rest of them will get done but oh well. Does this formatting make sense? It gave me hell.

cws: murder, attempted murder, fighting, death, yandere typical tropes, brief mention of muzzles (Pantalone’s part).

Pierro

Try to kill him? He sighs. Depending on the nature of your relationship, this is either mild betrayal, or an expected outcome of your dynamic. If you're his mild mannered captive, a wife not by your choice, he’ll simply pin you down, wrists caught in his large hands. If you're his wonderful reciprocating darling, it hurts a bit more. Either way, he doesn’t tolerate it, but hardly punishes you. He’s lost too much over his life to throw you away over something so mild as an assassination attempt.

Try to kill the Tsaritsa? If you get pretty close, proving yourself a real contender, he’ll kill you, seeing you as too great a threat. If you don't stand a chance, he’ll send you to the dungeons and spend a few, very pathetic, months mulling over what to do with you.

If you succeed in killing the Tsaritsa, he will kill you, or he will die by your hand. There is no chance for redemption, no heart strings you can pull. He does not exhibit the petulance or immaturity of some of his co-workers. His will is as icy as her Majesty’s. He won’t even cry as either of you die. He’s so cold about it, it almost feels more like betrayal to you, than to him.

Capitano

Try and kill him? He has you pinned down in seconds, whatever weapon you were planning to use sent flying to the other side of the room. Whether you got close, or did little more than a bug biting at his skin, he’s pissed. He keeps you there for a second, breaths labored.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growls, hand shoving your head harder against whatever surface he has you against. It doesn’t matter what you say—you can hardly speak after all—he’s pissed.

If you two were deployed at the time, a group of his finest drag you back to whatever mansion his rank as harbinger has earned him. You thought it merciful at first, and easy to escape. Until an icy blizzard encases the large mansion, making escape impossible without death. Waiting it out doesn’t work, the storm is constant. You are forced to grit your teeth, pacing your new prison like a caged animal.

The blizzard, created at his request by the Tsaritsa, only breaks when he returns from the expedition, and encases the home once more as he steps inside. You are truly, pitifully, trapped with him. As his.

He grabs your chin harshly, “Behave, brat.” Lifting your head and tilting it to the side, he plants a kiss on your neck.

Try to kill the Tsaritsa? Unlike Scaramouche, he doesn’t accept any pitying promises or begging for mercy. His patron, goddess of love, being attacked by his own lover? He is more worried about her response than about what is to be done about you. This is a personal failure in his eyes. He picked a lover, and endangered her Majesty due to his own blindness. He leaves you to her will to be dealt with.

You will feel no warmth from him as you die, but you will crave it as the cold pricks turn to knives—crave his inhuman arms. He always ran hot, even in the northernmost tempests.

If you do kill the Tsaritsa it’s much the same. A merciless end. The only difference is he’s quicker, a bit afraid of you; of you you killed the goddess of love.

Pantalone

Try to kill him? Unlike his coworkers, he is not combatively attuned. In the “safety” of his bedchambers, where only you and him are allowed, you stand a much greater chance.

When he gets away from you, from your blade, his Fatui guards breaking through the ornate doors and restraining you, you see the flash of raw, human fear in his eyes. The mortality that he hardly shows. You aren’t alone with him for a while after that. Hardly seen without the diamond studded muzzle he commissions for you. His silent payback for your stunt.

Try to kill the Tsaritsa? Chances are he’s not there when it happens, and even if he is, he’s not the one to intervene. You get shipped back to him in chains, some other harbinger throwing you to the floor in Pantalone’s office. Their voice is sharp as they say “I hope this does not become an issue again.”

He regards them back with sharper eyes. “It will not.”

You are not allowed in the Tsaritsa’s palace again after that. You stay in his private manor, many, many miles away. The air is tense even as Pantalone never mentions the issue again.

If you succeed in killing the Tsaritsa, expect to never see him again. He’s far too busy trying to fill power vacuums and manage what to do in case the collapse of the Fatui is inescapable. He thinks of you, of course, but it is not fondly. You, who ruined everything for him.

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Trying SO hard.

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OH SO NOW IT WORKS

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UGH

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SORRY GUYS NO GENSHIN YANDERE TODAY TUMBLR HATES ME. So the issue is from posting in drafts, which is where the fic is. Very sad ANYWAYS SNEAK PEAK IG?

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Trying SO hard.

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OH SO NOW IT WORKS

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UGH

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Trying SO hard.

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OH SO NOW IT WORKS

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Trying SO hard.

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Fragile Things - Yandere!Childe x Reader

At least he’s regretful when a punishment goes too far…

cws: kidnapping, isolation related punishments, yandere, self harm, softer yandere, heavier content.

1k words

~~~

“Baby, hey, look—look at me.” He was speaking firmly, his hands on your wrists, restraining you. Keeping you from clawing your skin any more than you already had.

You were absolutely inconsolable, babbling words even you couldn’t discern, sobbing, shaking. “No—no I-I—Ajax. A-Ajax.”

“That’s right. That’s right. Eyes on me. Oh baby. Too harsh? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough—”

You only broke down further, each hiccuping sob dragging you deeper as you tried to curl in on yourself.

Ajax hadn’t just kidnapped you. He’d been extremely thorough in breaking you. So thorough, a more logical you would have realized he underestimated how much you could take.

You’d been isolated, for the most part. Trying to escape the cabin in the snowy wilderness was not a good idea. Partially because, well, snow. And partially because it was easy to track people in the snow.

When he—inevitably—did catch you, he was upset. You knew the risk of punishment when you made the choice, but what he did was different to what you expected.

Your wrists, ankles, and neck all ached badly. For over a week you were locked up and shackled. And not the kind of locked up you were before the attempt. No, there wasn’t a warm cabin, a fireplace, or Tartaglia’s sloppy attempts at keeping you happy. A fucking closet. No light, windows. Ajax didn’t even speak to you when he left you food.

It was so different to everything you’d ever known, growing up in the free rolling hills of Mondstadt. You already struggled in the confines of the cabin, but kept silent and still in such a small space?

A week of that, and now he decided you were good. That you’d probably learnt your lessons. But that morning, when he went to let you out, to welcome you back with a teasing ‘I hope you learnt your lesson’ and a patronizing hug, he found you… in a less than desirable state.

Shivering not from cold, throat raspy and raw, eyes trained on the ground. You didn’t even notice him at first. Not as he spoke, each shackle falling off with a click. Not as his mood shifted as the light from the hallway illuminated your skin.

You’d been clawing at it, to the point of bleeding, stretching your limited dexterity in order to anxiously and unconsciously hurt yourself. Like a caged bird plucking it’s own feathers from stress. You’d only been brought to reality when he picked you up, jerking away from him as tears sprung to your eyes again.

He said something you didn’t process as you tried to stand up, stumbling like a doe on new legs, vision gray around the edges.

You weren’t sure how it all went down. But somehow you two ended up on the couch, settled between his thighs, your back to his chest as you shaked and begged and tried to get away, only partially aware. “No no no no—Ajax please.”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, I got you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated, letting you claw at his forearms instead of your own skin. “Breath, breath little dove. It’s okay, It's all over baby. I’m sorry, it was too much, wasn’t it? You’re too fragile for me to be mean like that.”

You continued your quick, flighty, panicked breaths as he gently tried to get you back to reality. Eventually, you’d slowed down, settling against his chest, eyes still wide and breaths still quick. Like a live rabbit in the hands of a trapper.

“You with me, baby?” He asked gently. As your chest struggled to rise and fall again, you gave a quick nod, not looking up at him. Your eyes were trained on some far off spot, pretending to be anywhere else other than that damn closet. You weren’t sure you even realized—truly realized—you’d left. “There we go. There. That’s better darling. See? Everything’s alright now.”

“E-everything's alright…” you repeated, nodding to yourself.

“Yeah. See? Not too bad. I’m sorry for your punishment, I got all caught up in my emotions. I should have known you wouldn’t do that well alone, without me.” He laid his cheek on the top of your head, voice taking on something fond. A content sigh sounded above you. “You’re so soft. I need to be careful not to break you. But you need to be careful too, baby.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, before squeaking out a soft, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, no more escape attempts. Okay?” He said, and you nodded. He ran his fingers through your hair, having let go of your wrists when you weren’t paying attention. His blunt nails, worn from hard work, scratched gently at your scalp. “That’s right.”

It continued for some amount of time. It was hard to tell, really. You were on the edge of freaking out but somehow also falling asleep. Everything ached, from your ribs to your wrists.

At some point, he grabbed them again. Gentler this time. He lifted one, holding it gently as his thumb rubbed at your self inflicted injuries.

You felt like a caged bird, bars too tight and owner too inexperienced to keep you from plucking your own feathers from stress.

He sighed above you, and you turned your head away so as to not look at him. “Poor thing.” The condescending words felt strangely genuine as he laid his cheek on the top of your head. “It’s okay, I’ll take the week off and we can fix this, okay baby?”

He quieted for a moment, and belatedly you realized he wanted a response. You made a small, hollow noise of acknowledgement, which came out raspy from your throat.

He sighed again, as if this was so hard on him. It was hard to find the energy to be angry though. So you just stayed silent as he dropped your wrist and dragged you closer to him. He was cold to the touch, but even his love was warmer than isolation.

~

Not quite sure how this one managed to be both softer and rougher than my usual works. Sorry it was so short! And yes, the next part of traitor readers will be coming… eventually. I’m having a touch of trouble formatting it which is getting in the way of be writing it. Side note, I’ve expanded my fandoms open for requests! HxH and to a lesser degree HSR!

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Not the same lyney anon but am also big fan of Platonic yan family set up here and am very curious!

How would the twins and freminet handle their newest ‘sibling’ when dealing with fauti stuff? For obvious reasons, the new ‘youngest’ of the family is of course not a member of the house of the hearth. But the trio still has missions and work to do. Not to mention that there is no way ‘father’ would somehow not find out; and if we say the three parts take place before the events in the Fontaine archon quest, then there’s the several days if not weeks or a whole month spend in the fortress doing espionage work to say the least

Balancing House of Hearth duties and taking care of his new youngest sibling is rough. Despite what he tries to make his crowds believe, he cannot be in two places at once.

Before the events of the archon quest, if they were away, chances are Freminet was home to take care of them.

(I’ll probably chat a bit about Father in another ask later but for now we assume she is either indifferent, unaware, or views Lyney getting to keep you as a reward he earned for his loyalty, but a responsibility of his own nonetheless. Essentially, she’s a non issue)

But when it comes time for the trio to assume their roles undercover in the fortress, an argument immediately breaks out. It’s obvious you aren’t coming with them (you wouldn’t even know about the Fatui stuff yet) but staying home? Alone?

You’d probably been with them for anywhere between six months to two years by the time the archon quest comes, having at least partially settled into life there. It was better than the streets, you’d learnt by then. So, they’re (mostly) sure you won’t run off.

Lynette thinks you can take care of yourself for a few weeks—Lyney thinks it’s ridiculous to expect his youngest sibling to do shopping, cooking and cleaning on their own. You’re just a kid! Lyney sputters when Lynette presses him on what he thinks they should do instead.

Freminet, silently witnessing this, sighs before going to his workshop and starting to draft a letter back to the Hearth—although, it’s not one for Father.

In the end, a house of hearth operative is set up to nanny you for the weeks the siblings are gone. They’re given very strict guidelines on how to take care of you. The upbringing that occurs in the house of hearth, while normalized to the children of it, is not appropriate for you.

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(Platonic Lyney anon) Alright then, I'll send my two asks separated so that you can answer the one you like the most. Take all the time you need!

How would Lyney (and Lynette too, she seems to have become interested as well) react if Reader ends up preferring Freminet? Like, they stay with him a lot and don't feel comfortable with the twins yet. Maybe it's because Freminet is more silent, and not forceful like Lynette can be.

Ooo Platonic Yandere Lyney is super family driven. He has a very intense desire to see his siblings get along. But when it comes to Reader having a clear favorite in Freminet, it really depends.

If you’re sticking besides Freminet because you see him as “safer”, asking to hang out with him in his workshop because it’s quiet and away from the other two, using him to limit your time with the twins, Lyney will allow it, coo over it (he melts when he sees you fallen asleep leaning against Freminet, snapping several pictures as quietly as possible. Ones that you might see framed in his room should you ever enter it), and have a private conversation with Freminet about doing more “family” activities (board games usually), in the hopes that with Freminet participating, you would overcome a bit of fear and do it too.

If you’re doing it to spite or avoid him, cuddling up to him and refusing to entertain Lyney’s brotherly whims (perhaps you stick your tongue out at him from over Freminet’s shoulder tauntingly), Lyney gets a bit upset. It’s obvious that you’re doing it to avoid him, and not even considering poor Freminet’s feelings about it! So you get grounded. Which, in a house you can leave, usually just means no dessert and having to sit through Lyney’s practice.

Lynette doesn’t mind either way. The idea of Freminet having a sibling he could be close to (they love him, but the twins are twins, perfectly in tune) is sweet to her, and defiance is a sign that you know acting out a reasonable amount won’t result in harm against you. If Lyney “grounds” you and refuses to give you dessert, she’ll sneak you some, don’t worry.

Bonus: Freminet’s brain short circuits every time you chose him over his siblings. He feels really bad that you prefer him over the twins, and doesn’t think it deserves it. He’ll try quietly to suggest you spend more time with them.

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Hii again, it's the same anon who really loves the platonic Lyney ^^ Is it okay to send some asks about this again? Not exactly for another part, but more to develop the story a bit

Thank you for everything you write, you're an awesome writer!!

I’m always open to smaller little theorizing asks! Will probably not be a pt 4 but I’m happy to give smaller paragraphs, rambles, and imagines (even if I might take a while to respond lol)

Go for it!

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Yandere Xiao Thoughts

cw: previous kidnapping, mild self harm, yandere, soft yandere, fairly mild.

Oh immortal yanderes. The ones that steal you away, the ones that don’t quite understand how humans work. The ones that didn’t do their research.

The ones in over their head.

Learning quickly how much humans need socialization, need stimulation, need sun and nature. Learning quickly how badly humans react to being deprived of it.

Xiao doesn’t know how to react once it starts getting to you. You’re breaking down more often, quicker anger, quicker to cry. Pacing the small area he’s forced you into. At first, he thought you were just going through a… rougher period of adjustment. Until your coping mechanisms become self destructive.

He doesn’t know what do when he comes back from patrolling Liyue to find the skin of your forearms red, covered in scratches from your own nails. He offers little except panted out comforts and promises of safety as he pins you down, trying to keep your hands off you, deathly afraid of you hurting yourself even more. This goes on for hours, until you eventually fall asleep, exhausted and worn out from the months.

After a short consolation with Zhongli, the reality that he’s been caring for you horribly becomes apparent. His previously iron will and rules eroding a bit as he tries to meet the less visible, psychological needs that a human requires.

But bending his own rules for you does not mean freedom.

You need sunlight? You’re in his lap for hours, his arms wrapped around you as you two sit in the sun atop a isolated mountain peak. It’s better than nothing, but he refuses to let go. This becomes routine.

You need mental stimulation? Entertainment and occupation? Zhongli suggests books, but Xiao decides on you singing and playing music. So he can hear it. You’ve never played, but when he presents you with several masterfully crafted instruments, you eventually have no choice but to take a violin bow into your hands and open the guide book he gave you. What else is there to do. He’s always lingering whenever you’re learning.

You’re touch starved? Now his hands won’t leave your skin. It’s not even lewd, more threatening as he rests his hand around the back of your neck, or forces you to hug him.

Previously, you felt like a little bird in a cage, never to fly, owned by a passive master. Now though, you’re role is that of an unwilling lap dog. Better, even if you yearn for something else.

[daylite-writes]

please please please please pleaseeeeeeeeeeee continue the sagau, its so good!!!!!!!!

Hnggg okay since y’all asked nicely, here’s the next part (pt 1 here) that I originally had partially written. This is legit the rest of it, so I have no more prepped after this. It’s Dottore Centric since I was originally supposed to cycle through most of the harbingers, and is such mild yandere I hesitated as even tagging it as such.

Doctor’s Orders (on your knees before me) - SAGAU ft. Dottore (pt 2)

After being brought back to the Tsaritsa’s Zapolyarny Palace, a familiar doctor is put in charge of your health. Happily, he takes on the role, and you learn a bit why the world loves you, and why the people hate you.

cws: allusions to temporary death, mild yandere, fading memories of a past life.

700 words

~~~

As it turns out, not letting the creator, well, be the creator leads to adverse side effects. Abnormal ley line flows, early deaths, and an unprecedented amount of power given to Celestia. Something Dottore explained to you in great—very confusing—lengths as he treated your hypothermia.

Huh.

You did not remember any of that from when you played the game.

Was the real world even real, or was this one the falsehood? You had a family and a life, for better or for worse.

Your skull began to ache whenever you thought of your home… logically you had a family, a world you hailed from, separated from your own. It faded from you, slowly, as if it was never even there to begin with. It was difficult to mourn it.

Dottore was speaking, you refocused your attention on him, as he strode over holding a hand out for your forearm, a syringe prepared for you. You gave it up easily.

“Creation, as we’ve found, is a hard task. After making a world, said creator often must rest for millennia. This gave Celestia time to attach to our world—to you—like a parasite. You should have awoken long ago. The archons were all expecting you to descend a few hundred years back. When you didn’t, the Tsaritsa’s war against Celestia began.”

“Ah.” Okay… sure. You’d accept that as fact for now. “What happens now that I’ve descended? Is this war against Celestia over then?”

“Hm? Oh, of course not. The Tsaritsa will personally drag Celestia down from their stolen thrones and gut them in your name, before returning their power to you.”

A violent, gleeful edge tinted his tone, then. Under his mask, a sharp smile spread as the thought crossed his mind. You paid it no attention, it was just the way he was.

“How are you so sure I’m the Creator? Others thought me to be an imposter of sorts.”

“How wouldn’t we?” Dottore laughed. “Your blood is gold, your deaths left the world weeping, the stars in your eyes shift to the constellation of whatever person you look at, and you know so much about each of us. Not to mention, we were the ones who awoke you.”

Your eyes immediately tore away from the syringe he was drawing blood with, shooting to him. “What?”

Dottore smiled, lips curling back to bare sharp teeth. “Oh, they didn’t tell you?”

“You couldn’t have awoken me.” You whispered, brow creasing. “I first appeared in Inazuma, where Kujou Sara killed me.”

The arrow was swift. After hours of wandering across familiar landscapes, the soft buzz of electro on your skin, wonder bright in your eyes. All that was cut short when the tengu woman shot you without hesitation. As you faded away, you heard her mangled scream as you bled gold.

“Awakened, not summoned. We could not control where you descended once your body awoke.”

You nodded. No wonder they were so… prepared to retrieve you, then. Brought back to the Tsaritsa’s palace, you were met with staff, a personal chamber, and every harbinger present to receive you. Even the Tsaritsa herself lowered herself from her icy throne to meet you.

You were very relieved that you met their unknown expectations for this ‘Creator’ you were expected to be.

You felt fingers on your chin, cold, the skin to skin contact separated by his sanitary gloves. He tilted your face up, locking eyes with yours, even if they were hidden by his mask.

He let out a soft, utterly enchanted sigh. “My creator.”

You brought your hand up, cupping his face in turn. Immediately, he slumped into it, like a cat, mumbling again; “My creator… my creator.”

You wondered if his eyes fluttering closed at your touch, if the slump of his shoulders, almost purring sigh, was due to your rank as creator. Was your very touch ecstasy?

His eyes remained closed when he next spoke. “The tsaritsa wishes for your presence, once you are medically cleared. It will be a little bit though. I guess you’ll just have to spend some time within my laboratory. Your health will be observed by me, of course.”

The way he said it, slightly cheeky, made you question if you actually were still sick. Alas, you were out of your depth, for now.

So, you drew back your hand, watching curiously as Dottore’s content look shifted to that of a small frown, lifting his head curiously. At his look of slight disgruntlement, you laughed a bit. “I’ll stay here, just for a few days.”

After all, you needed time to prepare to meet the Tsaritsa.

~~~

So this is all that has been prepped for the Sagau stuff, everything else is just passing thoughts. Thing is, SAGAU is way less popular, which means I read way less, and get less ideas. This is a very traditional SAGAU au tho and I’m happy people liked it!

[daylite-writes]

Songbird anon here! Thank you for doing my request! I enjoyed it very much- But can you just imagine handing the Tsaritsa's corpse to Dottore and him going;

"Wow! Now go and kill the others for me, sweetheart."

Bro would probably think that you could take down the other archons in seconds, would probably use you as the main source for the corpses of his latest... Experiments and toys.

- Songbird Anon

Omgggg he’s down bad for stuff like this. If you’re insane enough to return to him he’s absolutely ready to take you in. Giving him the corpse is like… a wedding ring basically. He takes a bite out of for just to see what it tastes like. Insane weirdo.

cw: corpses, yandere!dottore, implied consensual relationship,

He makes you stay in the room for the vivisection. Glancing to you occasionally while he does it, seeing how you’re reacting.

“My intrigue,” he’d say after a minute, body purposefully turned away from you. He calls you that as opposed to darling or baby. Perhaps he thinks your ability to hold his interest is as cute or flattering as any pet name. “Quit destracting me. I’m busy appreciating this… gift.”

“I didn’t even speak, Doctor.” You teased.

“You know what you’re doing.” He’d hiss, not upset—if he was upset you wouldn’t be in one piece. He’s not quite sure how to deal with his overwhelming attraction vs his overwhelming curiosity, so you let it slide. You catch him biting his lip and trying to focus on the corpse.

He probably wouldn’t immediately sic you on the other archons. Logically, killing the tsaritsa takes time and effort and planning but… god it’s a fantasy he returns to often.

In the power struggles and turbulent landscape of Snezhnaya after the death, he’s happy to keep you by his side. His beautiful intriguing little partner.

But if you have the desire to rise up against any other divine… gods, please let him watch.