Why is it so hard to start writing these messages? I swear, I spend so much time every time thinking about how to start and greet ;(( So, what I decided to write for: we already have a yandere who entered Darling Academy to find a darling, so what about a darling who enters a yandere school undercover? (I apologize if something like this has already been done, but it is unlikely that I could have missed even one post on this topic, considering how many times I reread each one-shot). Maybe because they want to find the perfect yandere themselves, maybe one of the yandere students killed/hurted their loved one, so they are entering because they want to find out who the killer is. In general, there can be a huge number of reasons, I would really like to read such a concept in your performance! But of course, you do not have to write something full-scale and detailed, I will be glad to just read your thoughts on this matter!! Have a nice day ^^
I feel like we've already covered the case of an undercover Darling who is adored by the entire school - even if it happened unwillingly. So I went for a different approach; no idea if it works or not.
Undercover!Darling Reader applied to Yandere School in hopes of finding their very own yandere. To their great dismay, what they received was utter indifference. The classmates are nice, but cordial. They are mainly focused on succeeding, not building intimacy with their peers.
An unbearable situation. Reader is stuck listening to the daydreams and hopes of the fellow students while having to remain silent. "I wish I could find a Darling one day", someone laments during break. Reader is beyond themselves. They wish they could scream at the top of their lungs that they're a Darling, right there, right then, ready to be claimed. Yet, that would expose them and potentially land them in trouble. All they can do is smile and not empathetically.
Perhaps as a way to rub salt into the wound, fate has brought another challenge: Reader has been asked to participate in an exchange program with Darling Academy. They agree to it monotonously.
Thus, Reader is now walking down the Darling halls with a defeated expression. Maybe they shouldn't have gotten so greedy. Maybe they should've applied here instead. What was the point of forfeiting their future? None of the yandere students seem to realize they have a Darling right under their nose. Sigh.
Reader is so engulfed in despair that they don't even notice the ardent stares coming from the Darling students. They're scattered in clusters, eyeing you cheekily and whispering among themselves.
"Did you place it? The love letter, I mean", one student inquires.
"I couldn't", their classmate responds, deflated. "(Y/N)'s locker seems to be stuffed to the brim with love letters already. Three of them flew out when I tried to put mine in."
In an unexpected turn of events, Reader has gotten the entire Darling Academy crushing on them. Does that...does that count for something?
[Yandere School Masterlist] | [More yandere stories]
For someone so confident, she is a little scared of rejection
She doesn't think you'll feel the same way
With that being said, she does sabotage many of your relationships
She hates seeing you upset, but she can't help it. She doesn't want you to be in love with someone else
She tries asking Cupid for help, but the love goddess just tells her to tell you her feelings. That's stupid
Darling is very protective of you
She's very quick to come into your defense in an argument or disagreement, even if you are the one in the wrong
It doesn't matter if you're a royal or rebel, because she'll rank higher than you either way
She'll definitely use this status to keep you as her friend
She sometimes worries it's the only thing that keeps you around her
Kind of goes Rebel, because she wants to be with you, not whoever is destined for you
She def sabotages other fairytale stories, so that more Royal decide to turn into Rebels
She's incredibly intelligent so when she does all these things, she won't be caught
She'll always play her role, as Goldie would say, 'Just Right'
You'll never even suspect she's the reason you can't keep friends or have any dates, why would you? Why she's your best friend and she clearly loves you
Ma’am, may I please request some sweet sweet smut with our sweet sweet Dr Darling? Maybe some breeding kink sprinkled in? It could be dark, like how failing Dylan has affected him and he wants to rectify it, but he’s a scientist first and a man second so of course he wants a new subject to redo this, and no one’s better than y/n to make that subject with.
ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ💕 At first, dear nonnie (you called me ma'am! aww!), I wasn't too sure about Darling having a breeding kink, but re-reading your sweet request?... Yeah. Yeah, I can kinda see him going deranged (more than usual, that is) and using the reader to his advantage and being so fucking smug about it too <3
Beware of a breeding kink/dubcon and if overall it's not your thing, I suggest not reading, because WE WILL be going deep in this one.
Thank you for your request and enjoy!
No beta read!
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ🎶
His assistant. His confidante. His job buddy, his girl, his little helper. All those names, all those labels doctor Darling came up for you, keeping just one in secret, in the place of his mind even he didn’t like to look into.
His experiment.
Unethical. Dark. Spitting on every single principle that held science together – not to mention the sheer iunhumaness of breaking your trust like that. But he wouldn’t break your trust, no, never. And the code of science community meant little when the stake of all human kind, of reality itself was laying on his, doctor Darling’s shoulders.
He is not smiling when you enter. He rarely does this days and it does something to you. Dr. Darling is always smiling. It is his armor, his shield, his way of convincing the world he is fine, that he, in extent is fine. But tonight, his face is bare. Tired. Hollow.
"Ah," he says, looking up from a file spread across his desk.
"Look at you. You’re here. Good."
His voice is wrong, too flat, too controled. No theatrics, no slight purr when he was talking about his favorite things. There is a faint tremor in his hands that he tries to hide by pressing them flat against each.
"I need your help with something."
You approach. Your footsteps are soft on the concrete floor. The room is cluttered with papers, blackboards covered in fractal diagrams, monitors displaying readouts from God knows what. The only light comes from a single desk lamp, casting long shadows across his face, making the dark pits under his eyes even darker.
"What is it, Dr. Darling?"
He flinches at his own name. Just slightly. Just enough.
"Casper," he corrects, his voice softer now as pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Please. It's... it's been a long week. A long month. Year, maybe? I think we're past formalities."
He stands and moves around the desk, standing in front of you, looking down at you.
"I've been thinking about Dylan," he says and you press your lips together at that name. He’s always thinking about Dylan. He’s always not ready to admit what he’s done to a poor boy. Perhaps, he will never do. But it wasn’t your time or right to judge. You were doing what you were told to do and you were good at it.
“About how he... failed. About how I, Trench, FBC failed him. I keep thinking about what I could have done differently. How I could have... prepared him better. How I could have made him a more... suitable... subject."
His fingers reach for your face, brush your cheek, cup it and hold it as your mind struggles to process just what he was talking about.
“And I keep thinking... you are so much more than he ever was. So much more... receptive. I just didn’t know it was possible."
His eyes find yours. They are brown and warm and terrible. There is something hungry in them, something that has been waiting for a long time, something that was finally, finally free. You found yourself unable to look away from his eyes even if your heart dropped down.
"I need to try again," he whispers. "I need to do it right this time."
He leans in. His forehead presses against yours, his warm breath brushing against your already parting lips.
"I know what this sounds like," Casper says. "I know how this looks. But I need you to understand — I need you to say yes – you trust me, don’t you sweetheart? I-I’d never hurt you, I’d never--”
He is asking, but it is not a question.
He is offering, but it is not a choice.
He doesn't need to do any of those things because you are already nodding, already leaning into his touch, already surrendering to the gravity of his need, saying ‘yes, Casper, I will do anything, Casper--’. He gently turns you around, bends you, presses your head onto the warm wood of his desk, kisses the back of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. He murmurs soothing nonsense, his hands stroking your shoulder blades.
"There we go," he breathes. "There we go. Just relax for me. Good girl. I've got you."
Pressing you down, down, his warm hands slide up your body, over your neck and grip your hair at the base of your skull. He tangles his fingers in it, pulls your head back, exposes your throat to the cold air. You are vulnerable. Open. His.
"Look at you," he murmurs. "So beautiful. So willing. So perfect."
His mouth finds your throat. His teeth scrape against your pulse. His tongue traces the column of your neck. He tastes you, breathes you, marks you.
"I am going to breed you," he promises. "I am going to fill you so full that you cannot remember a time before me. I am going to plant my seed so deep inside you that it takes root, that it grows, that it becomes something new, something that will finally be right."
Still holding your hair with one hand, another one dips into your skirt, work them open, pulls them down. Faster, faster, you beg him in your mind as fingers find you wet and ready and wanting.
"You are already aching for it," Casper observes, his voice wondering.
"Your body knows what it needs. What it was made for."
He positions himself between your thighs, working on his own pants, pushing them down just enough to expose his hard length, now resting heavy between your cheeks. A thin, needy sounds tears from your throat and you push yourself onto him, so now it was you, only you who wanted this, needed this. He is so much, so thick, so deep, filling you in a way that edges pain and pleasure together until you cannot tell the difference.
"There," he groans. "There you are. There you are."
He moves, fast, rough, relentless, his hips pound against yours, driving deeper with every stroke.
“You feel incredible," he gasps against your skin.
"So tight. So warm. So perfect for this."
His voice is in your ear, low and ragged and praising.
"You are taking me so well. So deep. I can feel you clenching around me, pulling me in. You want this, don't you? You want to be filled? You want to be bred?"
"Yes, yes, yes— oh god, doctor Darling, yes!" it’s not your voice who answers him, it’s not your thoughts filled with lust and pain and pleasure and fear of what he was doing to your willing body.
"You feel that? You feel me inside you? That's - that's science, that's creation, that's our salvation - "
The table scrapes against the floor. Your nails scrabble at the metal surface, seeking purchase, finding none.
"You're going to look so beautiful," he groans, his voice breaking with need.
"Full of me. Growing. Swelling. Everyone will see. They'll know what you did. They'll know what you carry!"
His hand slides from your hair to your throat and presses. Not enough to cut off air, but enough to feel the pulse of your blood under his fingers. Enough to remind you that he could. That he will if things go wrong, if you so much as think about doubting him.
"You're going to be a mother," he whispers, his voice reverent.
"The mother of a new generation. The mother of salvation."
His thumb finds your jaw. Forces your face to the side so he can see your eyes.
"You're going to birth something beautiful. Something powerful. Something that will save us all."
He pounds into you harder. Faster. His breath is ragged, his control fraying.
"And I'm going to be there," he gasps. "I'm going to watch you grow. I'm going to measure you. Study you. Document every change."
His hand slides down your belly, presses against the place where he is buried inside you, feels himself moving in you, feels the stretch of you around him.
"I'm going to know you. Know you better than anyone ever has. Know what you need before you need it. Know what you want before you say it." His forehead presses between your shoulder blades as he keeps on destroying you and keeps on for so long, so perfectly endless that you forgot what it’s like not to have his cock inside you. Finally, doctor Darling spills into you with a cry that is almost a sob. His body shakes as he pumps his seed deep inside you, filling you, claiming you, marking you. You moan in desperation feeling it feel you, feeling him pump it deep into your womb, feeling the moment he claims you completely.
"So good," Casper says, shaking, still burried inside you. His hand strokes your belly. Gently now. Reverently. He eases out of you slowly. His seed drips from you onto the table, a glossy stain on the warm wood. He watches it with clinical, satisfied eyes.
"I'll clean you up," he promises. "Don’t worry, sweetheart - I'll take care of you. I'll take care of everything. I have so many tests to run after all. Hormone levels. Baseline measurements. Genetic screening. I need to know what we're working with - "
He catches himself. Blushes. Looks at you with guilty eyes.
"Sorry," he says. "Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. You must be exhausted. You did so well," he says. "I am so proud of you."
note: Now all the charming siblings have something written! Yippe!
“[Name], look!” You heard one of your friends shout, pointing towards the party entrance. Before you, and everyone else in attendance, you all watched in great awe as The Red and White knight fought. However, inevitably the Red Queen’s son fell, “I yield! You win!” Chase proclaimed, standing tall he removed his helmet, his voice filled with adoration as he spoke of the White knight’s skills.
The boy spoke, “What manner of man are you?” And all, went quiet. The White knight’s eyes beneath the helmet scanned the crowd, everyone in attendance waiting to see just who this ‘man’ was. “Actually, I am no manner of man.” The white Knight spoke as ‘he’ removed his helmet. Turning in your direction, you instantly recognized the white and blue locks of hair.
…”I’m a girl.” Darling spoke, her gaze soft as her words were directed towards you. Everyone was in shock, however you were left more or less, unamused, and Darling could tell. “I’m sure you’d all like an explanation. Especially you, [Name].” The princess spoke. “However that is for another day.” Everyone watch as Darling’s armor skillfully opened up, allowing her to exit. “For now, it’s time to party!” She exclaimed, placing her fist in the air.
And everyone was suddenly immersed in their conversations again. With you, Chase, Apple, and Raven, with Darling. The white-haired, newly found out knight turned to you. “You don’t exactly look surprised.” Darling spoke with a smile. “Honestly, it all kind of makes sense. You always were super into knights, Darling. Wanting to be one like your brothers, and practicing with swords in your dorm alone.” You spoke while crossing your arms.
“And let’s not forget to mention you’ve had quite the fair share of absences ever since this whole Wonderland situation started.” You continued on, while Darling smiled. “You know me so well, don’t you?” She placed her hand on your shoulder. Raven laughed softly. “You’re my girlfriend, of course I do.” You place your hand on hers. “Also you’ve never been one to miss school.” You laughed softly, as well as Darling.
Her hand then fell from your shoulder to your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 8/8
Fandom: Control (Video Game), Alan Wake (Video Games), remedyverse - Fandom
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Dr Darling/oc, Dr Darling/original female character, Dr Darling/reader, Casper Darling/Original Female Character(s), Casper Darling/Reader, Casper Darling/Raya Underhill(mentioned)
Characters: Casper Darling, Original Female Character, Zachariah Trench, Emily Pope, federal bureau of control - Character, Raya Underhill, Ahti (Control)
Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, Office Sex, Idiots in Love, men in lab coats am I right?, it's silly but also sexy, Friends to Lovers
Summary:
The new employee in the Oldest House catches the attention of the Head of research. His sparkling enthusiasm and her utter apathy are captivating for each other.
Piece of shit vampire!reader x Yandere!Darling & Tsaritsa
notes: once again Eros has infected me with his wonderful brainrots. I wanted to add more to this but I wasn't sure how to continue so I'm just letting it out there, if a part two is requested I might make one >:D (also highkey stole the nicknames from @/nicebonescomrade bc they put "little love" in a fic once and i haven't been the same since/pos)
Warnings: Reader is a bad person, blood, mutilation, manipulation, kidnapping, implied(?) drugging, very yandere everyone in this relationship sucks literally
It wasn’t a bad thing.
That’s what they’d repeated to you over and over again, and it’s what you’d slowly come to believe.
That sitting complacent and useless on their laps wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, it was a good thing. You were safe and well cared for and completely dependent on the two.
And yet as you did your usual routine of sitting on one of their laps, useless and ignoring the jealous glares around you, you urged for something. It stirred within your stomach uncomfortably until it got to your chest and then your throat.
The Tsaritsa looked down upon your form, “Hm? Are you hungry, little love?” She tilted your chin up with her hand, much larger than your own.
You didn’t even have to answer her, you didn’t think you could. Your eyes were slits, fangs elongated until they were poking your bottom lip, and your nails sharp enough to tear human skin to shreds.
“Oh dear,” The Tsaritsa frowned, already moving her wrist up to her lips, her own fangs- much larger than yours- peeking out behind her lips, “You should’ve said something.”
Her fangs dug into her skin and you were already mindlessly grabbing her wrist to quench the undying thirst in your undead heart. She merely giggled as you drank from her wrist, your fangs digging into her skin though never breaking it.
“Hm,” Tsaritsa wiped the blood off your lips after you’d pulled away, “You drank much more than usual…” You hummed, nuzzling into her soft fur coat. “Perhaps you’re craving Darling’s blood…” She mused to herself.
Perhaps you were, as the craving deep in your chest still ate away at your thoughts hungrily until the only thing you were thinking about was tearing someone apart just like you used to do before Darling and the Tsaritsa borderline kidnapped you.
…ah.
It clicked in your head what was missing. It wasn’t a craving for blood per say, but a more selfish desire. The same one that got you trapped in this grandiose palace as a lapdog.
The desire to hunt.
Because in your eyes, humans were puny little things. Cute, fun to chase, and exquisite in taste. Honestly you never thought you’d be the lapdog, you thought it’d perhaps be something similar to your parents. That you’d find a cute little human and have “mercy” on them by taking them in as your partner.
How cruel of the world to turn your expectations on their head. Because in two gods’ eyes, you were puny, weak and helpless and adorable.
You couldn’t even break their skin to feed from them - and only them as they had told you, because you deserve only the best blood. You had no power here and no freedom.
Your nails dug into the Tsaritsa’s arm.
She giggled, “Getting sick of me already? Do you miss Darling that much?”
You didn’t say anything, a small growl exiting your lips as you bit down on her arm. With the humans in those villages, a bite of this force would have them screeching, their legs buckling from under them as they begged you for mercy.
How you longed to hear her scream in pain.
She merely grabbed your slightly pointed ear with her clawed hands and tugged on it, digging her nails ever so slightly into the skin there,“Come then, little love,” She sighed, but her smile never faltered, “If you miss them so much let me take you to them.”
You let go of her arm - angry at the minimal marks you had left - and met her eyes with a furious glare.
She wasn’t phased in the slightest, and picked you up with ease. Although it wasn’t in the slightest way romantic as she grabbed you by your collar, picking you off her lap so she could stand. Then she had you sit on her arm as she carried you to wherever Darling was.
You wrapped your arms around her neck to stabilize yourself (and even if you hated her guts, her coat was soft as hell and you were getting some desperately needed affection out of this). Darling wasn’t too far away - they never were - and the Tsaritsa plopped you on their lap.
“They missed you, I think they’re hungry.” Her smile was sickening, ruining your appetite.
You bit into Darling hatefully, putting your all into making them feel just an ounce of the pain and frustration you felt everyday living with them. You knew they’d make you feed on them either way, so you decided you might as well get your frustrations out before you became completely useless after drinking their blood.
The chuckle that escaped Darling’s throat made your stomach churn, “Looks like the little lamb,” Your fangs dug even deeper into them, “Is starving.”
They tugged you away from their shoulder, and you growled at the fact there wasn’t even a mark there.
Darling brandished their neck to the Tsaritsa and she gently bit down on the skin. Even her large and sharp fangs - ones that rivaled Morax’s own dragon teeth - struggled to break her skin. But they did, and she pulled away, spots of golden ichor on her lips.
Darling brought your head back towards their neck, a silent command for you to drink and like a dog, you obeyed.
The effects of their blood impacted you almost immediately. Your mind being covered in fog, uncaring of what they were saying or doing. You barely even registered their hand rubbing your back or brushing through your hair.
Ichor would kill a human, you and they knew that, but it seemed for you - who thrived off of blood - it had the opposite effect. And they used that knowledge to the very best of their ability. They were well aware of your bitterness towards them, your resistance, the way you’d constantly bite, hit and scratch at them. There was no fondness in your eyes, they both knew you wanted their blood to spill until there was nothing of them left. They knew that when you sucked their blood up eagerly, it was partly because of the addicting effects it had on your body, but also because you wanted to suck them dry. Until their bodies were unmoving for the rest of time.
That was your justification for why you were greedily sucking up Darling’s blood. You could at least pretend you weren’t severely addicted to the sheen golden liquid, that you were doing it in the hopes of finally murdering them. Even though you knew full well that it was just a fantasy. That even though you dreamed of their lifeless body and dead eyes that wouldn’t meet yours so condescending, you knew it’d never happen.
They’d always be there throughout your immortal life, haunting you just as you had haunted the people of Snezhnaya. Though at least they got the sweet release of death, you had no break from the constant pain of being seen as less than. No one was afraid of you, everyone thought you were just a pretty dog to look at to stare at. The rabid animal that the Tsaritsa and Darling had tamed.
You drank until you were forcibly removed, your fangs still bared and a growl still in your throat. Darling’s smile had bile tickling the back of your throat as they situated you on their lap once again, the wound on their neck sealing up quicker than it’d been bit into. Their hands weaved their way through your hair, playing with your fingers and whatever other part of you they wanted to.
You were motionless, your nose buried in their neck and eyes glazed over. You gently breathed in their expensive perfume, the aftertaste of ichor on your tongue, and the world faded away.
As usual you woke up in the dead of night, a habit practically burned into your soul and you thanked whatever merciful gods that Darling and the Tsaritsa weren’t forcing you to break it. Though you could feel your body pressed up against the Tsaritsa’s, her cold body temperature digging into your bones. Then there was Darling, directly behind you. Their warm lips right next to your ear but not a single breath fell upon your skin, their chest didn’t rise or fall.
With a sigh, you gently sat up in the bed, your head spinning. Darling’s arms - that were previously wrapped around you possessively - followed you up. Their hand resting on your waist before falling down to your thigh to rest there.
They were awake.
When were they not really? They merely laid with you and the Tsaritsa in bed and pretended they needed rest so they could keep their ever watchful gaze on you. Still, as you slipped to the end of the bed they didn’t stop you. Your bare feet touched the icy ground of the Zapolyarny palace, but no chill traveled up your spine. Your heart didn’t stutter with the realization of the freezing cold, and you didn’t immediately jump back into the bed, into the warm arms of Darling.
Because you were dead. Because you were a monster. And monsters want to terrorize and have power. You were no different.
You exited the room, you could feel Darling’s golden gaze locked onto your form like a cat ready to pounce on their prey. If you looked back at them, you’d be able to see their eyes clearer than day and the sickening grin that never seemed to leave their face when you were around.
You ignored all of it and stepped out of the room. The cold halls empty, the wind whirring in the background, almost as an omen for the night ahead.
A grin slid onto your face, your fangs peeking out from behind your lips. You always liked bad omens.
You disregarded the neatly laid halls in front of you and opted instead to jump out the nearest window. Not like the fall would kill you (if Dottore’s weird ass experiments and his newfound obsession with wooden stakes and the church of Mondstadt hadn’t killed you yet, nothing could), and you fell down gracefully into the snow. You stretched your limbs, the pops and cracks most definitely not something a normal human would find comfort in. In fact, if a human were to stretch their limbs like this they’d break. You knew, you’d done it to them before.
Still, after a few months (years? You sure hoped it wasn’t years.) of being domesticated your body had tightened up. You weren’t as nimble as you were when you were running away from the Fatui everyday, dodging and getting hit with literal bullets. Back then you also hadn’t drunk this much blood, much less ichor. Which no doubt had some affect on your mental and physical state.
But you didn’t care as you raced through the snow, the cold freezing over whatever was left of your heart from the centuries you’ve roamed and terrorized Teyvat. There were little tracks in the heavy snow, and you could hardly sniff out any prey, but that was fine with you. You weren’t hunting to eat, you were hunting for fun. The ultimate sin of a predator to a prey, to toy with them. To make their life a game, even more so with the intelligence of the human race.
Though you didn’t care. As you said, you didn’t have a heart and there was no room in heaven for a blood sucking monster such as yourself. So you didn’t care about sin, you only cared about having fun. And the most fun you’d get was from finally being back in control of a life. Not necessarily your life, but a life nonetheless.
That’s when you heard it among the howling winds. The sound of bustle, the late night outings before going back home. You bared your teeth in a grin and darted towards the noise. The moment your eyes landed on a human, their heart beating in their chest, your mind went blank.
In the end, you barely remembered what happened. All you knew was that their blood was disgusting, compared to the luxurious ichor you were fed daily, regular human blood now tasted like garbage. Even still, you didn’t stop. Red blood decorated your face, stained your hands crimson, practically covered you from head to toe as you relished in the fact that finally finally when you bit down on someone with all your force they’d scream.
Granted, no longer did their limb tear off when you bit on it. You were getting weaker, and the thought caused a chilling cold to overcome you. Though the cold realization didn’t last as you granted a different kind of high compared to the one Darling’s blood gave to you.
Your grin was maddened and the sound of men, women, and children alike screaming for their lives brought an immense amount of joy to you. The adrenaline coursing through you was enough to get drunk on even with the taste of their blood no longer bringing any satisfaction. At least in this moment you were, in some sense, free. You could control something now, and that was how many limbs all these people lost.
However, in your maddened state, you failed to hear the steps behind you. Or perhaps they had masked their steps or something of the sort. Either way, it was too late when you felt a harsh fist grab your hair and pull you into the chest of a sweet-smelling god.
“Looks like you’ve been having fun, hm?” You felt their grin and teeth on your ear.
A whine escaped your throat and you thrashed wildly, clawing at them, biting them, bashing your head against theirs, kicking, screaming and cursing. None of it worked as they tore the skin off their wrist and shoved it in your face.
“Drink.” There wasn’t any room for argument but you still tried to make room as they pressed it right up against your lips.
You drew your lips back in a snarl, but the sweet smell invaded your senses until before you knew it you were desperately sucking on their wrist.
And god was it so much better than the regular blood red you’d been drowning yourself in. You couldn’t stop yourself from drinking, even whenever Darling’s grip went lax. You held their wrist up to your lips and drank until you didn’t even know what you were doing. You didn’t notice that you weren’t standing anymore or that you were being moved. All you knew was that their blood was truly divine until eventually your mind slipped away and your body shut down to sleep.
I love how we pass from creating a god of Tevyat and make them the "reader" to ship ourselves with the character we created and prefer them out all genshin characters 😂
