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eedygy · 1 year ago

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Places You Shouldn’t Be

Feitan x Reader

synopsis: You find something that changes your perception of Feitan.

warnings: yandere, fem reader, mentions of blood and torture, lightly proofread

4.3k words

When you first arrived, you wrongly assumed Feitan owned the house. It wasn’t until you found a photo of the homeowners standing in front of the building, shoved behind the nightstand in your designated room, that you considered other possibilities. With each clue of new information you learn about him, you’re sure that Feitan is a squatter at best. At worst, he murdered the couple that previously lived here and stuffed them in the basement or buried them outside. After all, you can’t imagine he’d willingly choose a muted floral trail pattern for the wallpaper. He seemed to have already torn up most of the carpet in the basement, specifically around his "workstation." There was still carpet along the stairs, stained with blood and dirt, that you hadn’t been able to scrub out.

The house layout is unusual. The entire first floor, including the bathroom, is carpeted. The second floor is made up of wooden floorboards, and the peeling wallpaper of the rooms on the second floor clashes with the painted pale yellow walls of the first floor. There was a hallway that served no purpose other than to connect the living room and dining room, even though the only thing separating them was a kitchen that you could walk through. The second floor contained two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a wide open area in place of a master bedroom. A dated home that had been in the middle of being refurbished by someone with bad taste, abandoned, and claimed by a manic.

You typically had free reign over the house, only because Feitan knew there wasn’t any way out for you. The windows were bolted shut, and there was no phone line. Feitan threatened to take your hand off and break the other one if he ever saw it on the knob of either the front or back door. It was enough to keep you away from any of the entrances and exits. Although he wasn’t intimidating in stature, you didn’t doubt Feitan’s capabilities to hurt you. You’ve had a front-row seat to a demonstration of his expansive knowledge of the human body. He’d only allowed you to leave in the middle of it because you were about to throw up; the overwhelming smell of blood and gore was getting to you.

Today, though, you felt comfortable laying in bed. Feitan had taken away the television remote only after a week of letting you have TV privileges. You didn’t do anything unless Feitan directly ordered it, so as to avoid getting in his way and annoying him. Feitan, for his part, tended not to bother you if there was nothing for you to do. Sometimes, you’d be dragged into the living room for his viewing, but that was usually the extent of it. If he expected you to clean something up or to do anything for him, he’d communicate it by placing you right in front of the task at hand, expecting you to figure out what he wanted.

Two months into this odd kidnapper-captive relationship, Feitan still has yet to state his intentions. Sometimes, it felt like Feitan was going out of his way to avoid interacting with you. Other times, he’d be hovering over you, monitoring your every move. You have no idea what Feitan wanted from you or why he was so dead set on keeping you inside this house. He’d never once brought up money, so it couldn’t be a ransom. He almost never asked you anything, neither about you, your family, or anyone else you could be connected to. The only things he ever did ask were vague accusations, trying to catch you in potential lies about one of his unspoken rules. Luckily for you, you were never ballsy enough to break any of the obvious ones (snooping around, escaping, etc.)

You sit on the couch in the living room, watching whatever is on the television. Feitan’s behind you, staring, as per usual. You try to keep your eyes on the screen to avoid doing anything that could illicit a response from Feitan. Sweat builds up on the back of your neck and the palms of your hands. What the hell did he want now?

Feitan circles around to sit down next to you on the couch, his gaze never leaving you. You aren’t sure if you should acknowledge his presence or not, or if you should let him continue his leering in silence. It was times like these that you felt like a zoo animal, being watched through a display glass. You wished there really was some sort of physical barrier between you too.

His hand reaches out, and you think he’s going to cut your face with those nails of his. Instead, his fingers come to touch your ear, almost holding it. On instinct, you flinch, causing his eyes to narrow. Feitan tugs at your ear, and you lean closer to lessen the tension.

“Ow!”

Underneath the cowl, his mouth twitches into a smirk. He keeps his fingers around the shell of your ear, feeling the delicate cartilage between the pads of his thumb and index. Finally, he speaks in that increasingly familiar, clipped voice. “You were by the door. Yesterday.” he accuses. “I wasn’t.” You say warily, having caught on to what he’s doing. “I saw you.”

"No, you didn’t.” You take the risk and call him out on his bluff. There was no way you were going to admit something you didn’t do. Feitan’s smile reaches his eyes, though it isn’t super noticeable. He lets go of your ear, choosing to flick it instead. If you didn’t know better, you’d think the breathy noise coming from behind his cowl was a laugh.

If you had to guess, you’d say that he wanted a live-in maid. He wasn’t getting any money out of you; you were of no importance. Your family weren’t criminals or political figures; nobody had done anything to earn the ire of the former either. You didn’t know Feitan; you met him the day you woke up in this nightmare. Down in that basement, on the underlay where the carpet once was, with your hands tied behind your back. If it wasn’t for the darkness of the room, you might have seen how eager he was that you were finally awake.

There was an idea, abstract yet persistent, in the back of your mind. One you repeatedly pushed away. What if you were here for more intimate reasons? Perhaps he was lonely? Were you meant to be a stand-in for an actual companion? After all, why else would a man steal a woman away and lock her in his house? Then again, he certainly didn’t come off as a person seeking companionship. If anything, you’d say he was averse to it.

Feitan never forced himself upon you. He never held you down or made you perform any acts on him. His touch was not absent, but it didn’t feel perverse in nature. You try to keep any notion of that happening out of your mind. It’s unclear to you if Feitan is above that sort of thing or not, but you’d like to think he isn’t interested. You really don’t want him to be. You didn’t miss the way he stared at you, but it always felt more menacing than it was lecherous.

Then again, he did have you take over some domestic duties. Sometimes you had to try and clean the blood out of the carpet, with varying success. Some days, you’d cook plain pasta (Feitan had no sauce of any kind) and vegetables for the two of you. You’d eat your plate and leave one for Feitan. He’d never eat with you, only watching on the opposite end of the table. You’d even begun doing the dishes. Would it be so much of a stretch to assume that he would expect you to start putting out anytime soon?

…

You don’t want to think about it.

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by the sound of the bedroom door opening. You sit upright in bed, having been marinating in the sheets for... well, since you’ve woken up. Feitan is standing in the doorway. He’s deadpan, as usual. There’s a moment of silence before he speaks up. “I have work today. Don’t leave.” He says shortly, staring you down. Work for Feitan more than likely meant he had someone in his basement. Sometimes he almost sounds disembodied, with the cowl covering the lower half of his face and all.

You mumble out an “okay”, sounding more strangled than you would have liked. It’s hard to be confident in the face of your captor, especially when they have a penchant for threats of violence. Feitan doesn’t stick around, closing the door on his way out. You’re left alone again, and you have no intention of going against his word.

There’s just one problem.

You need to use the bathroom.

You curse yourself for not saying anything before he left, but you also don’t have the resolve for such a silly request. Should you step out now and hope to catch him while he’s down the stairs? Would he even care? It’s not like it was an emergency, you could probably wait till he was done. That’s assuming he’d be done torturing whoever was down there within a reasonable time. There was a bathroom on the second floor, it’s not like you’d be going downstairs or anywhere near his work.

You wait a few minutes, until you’re sure Feitan is out of earshot, before tiptoeing out of bed and to the front door. Was it even unlocked? If not, your plan of discreetly going to the bathroom would be out the window. You hadn’t heard a click from the outside, so you try your luck. Turning the handle, you push the door open just an inch. It wasn’t locked. Perfect.

There’s a painful creak as you open the door wide enough to slip through, which makes you stop in your tracks. You wait for what must have been three minutes before proceeding. No Feitan in sight. You carefully step outside of your room, and down the hallway. You glance at the door to the room next to yours. Out of all doors, this is the one you weren’t supposed to open, alongside the front and back doors. You don’t know what’s in there, and you probably wouldn’t have cared to know if Feitan hadn’t specifically forbidden you from going in there.

“My room. Not for you.”

Well, maybe he hadn’t specifically said not to go in there, but you got the hint. You were already out now, and perhaps the bathroom could wait just a few minutes. So, against your better judgment (and against his word), you turn the handle of the door slowly.

You’re shocked to see the door actually open. You’d only tested the handle for the sake of it; you would have thought Feitan would keep his room locked. You open the door further, as slow as possible. The air inside is somehow colder, unfriendly. You scan the room, half expecting Feitan to come out, and to slap the teeth out of your mouth for even coming here. After what feels like an eon, you carefully close the door to the room behind you, thanking whatever God is out there that the hinges don’t creak. Previous owners must have oiled them at least once.

The room, Feitan’s bedroom, is bare and hollow. Dust collects in the corners, along with cobwebs and dead insects. The only furniture is a mattress on the ground, a bookcase, and a dresser. Whatever wallpaper the previous owners had put up had been ripped off, presumably by the man himself. In a few corners, you can still see the floral pattern that was once on the drywall. Did he seriously sleep here? Taking a few steps further into the room, you wonder if Feitan tossed out the old owners belongings or if this was all that was there when he “moved in." The bookcase and dresser were notably aesthetic, with the dresser having a mirror attached to it. The glass is scratched in some places, but not overly damaged.

You look over at the bookcase, deciding to start there. Initially, you don’t see anything of note. Various books exist; some are medical books about anatomy and physiology, others are about torture methods. Some of the spines are unmarked, and you don’t care enough to pull the book out of the shelf to read the cover. There aren’t more than fifteen, maybe twenty. Some are more worn than others, with the spines peeling slightly on a few. The only one that slightly stands out is a historical book, but that too is centered around hurting people. “Medieval Methods of Torture," the title reads.

Along the bookshelves are a few DVD cases; the ones with covers indicate that they’re pornos. The covers imply that the contents are normal enough. No torture porn, nothing hardcore. The rest are plain black plastic with unmarked discs inside. You nearly consider it odd that this adult man would own pornographic material. Feitan is so cold and seemingly detached from his humanity that you’d initially struck him as an amorphous creature rather than a person with desires just like anyone else. If you were told that he was smooth like a Ken doll down there, you wouldn’t be colored surprised. Stuck between the books were photos, and you pry them out carefully, making note of which books they were hidden between.

…They’re all of you. You examine them, looking for any more to prove yourself wrong. Surely he has at least one photo of something that isn’t you. Another person, himself, a plant, anything. Your jaw hangs open as you look at all of them, fond memories flooding back. Your high school graduation picture, a family photo that was cut to exclude everyone else, a picture you and your friends took during a grad trip—it doesn’t end. You take the family photo, flipping it over on the back. Your mother's signature isn’t on it, nor is the date it was taken in her handwriting. This particular photo isn’t the original, and you have to assume the others aren’t either.

You aren't sure how he got all of these, and you refuse to let them be a sign of anything. No, absolutely not. Isn’t that what psychos like him do anyway—collect photos of their victims? Surely he had at least one or two pictures of whichever unlucky soul was in his basement right now. The idea that he chooses to collect pictures of you for his own enjoyment doesn’t flatter you in the slightest. You quickly put the photos back, just as you found them.

The alternative to the thought you refuse to address is that he is going to kill you eventually. Both trains of thought are unpleasant, and you push them both away. No, you won’t even think about it. You don’t need to know why; you just need to focus on escaping. That’s all that matters. Find something that can help, you repeat it like a mantra in your head.

You traipse over to the dresser, though you can’t say you’re keen on rifling through his clothes. As expected, he doesn’t own a lot of things. You don’t look at all of the cabinets, Feitan could randomly decide to come up here. Sure, he’d usually be busy for hours, but today could be your unlucky day. Almost all of the clothes are black or some other dark color, with the majority of his shirts having long sleeves. You don’t find anything of note, and the top of the dresser is empty. No trinkets or knicknacks, not even a few stray coins. Just a thin layer of dust.

Your attention shifts to the yellow-tinged mattress pressed up against the wall. You get the feeling that it hasn’t seen better days. There’s a clear dip where Feitan typically sleeps. There’s only one pillow, which is hidden under the blanket. You’re suddenly more grateful for your sleeping situation since Feitan lets you have a proper bed. You try not to interpret this as special treatment; maybe the man just likes sleeping on the ground. You wonder if he keeps something under his pillow, like a key out of this hellhole. Now that would just be wishful thinking. You lower your expectations, deciding to check anyway. After all, it couldn’t hurt.

The blanket is a pale blue, worn but not in terrible condition. It seems he’s had this for a long time. It’s on the thinner side, which you can’t imagine is comfortable in a house that’s already chilly. The pillow is gray, lacks a pillowcase, and has your face on it.

What?

The scene is so bizarre that your brain takes extra time to process it. Upon closer examination, the pillow, which has a few stains on it, has a photo of your faces taped to it. It was a picture from a family vacation, one of the few ones with just you, posing at the beach. You don’t remember all of the specifics of that day, just that you had a lot of fun. But how could Feitan have this? Unless he directly took it out of the photo album, it was kept in, but you didn’t even have that album. It was at your parents house, collecting dust in the closet. At least, it should be. You couldn’t check the back of the photo for your mother's signature and date without tearing it off the pillow. Running your finger across the photo, you can’t determine if it was freshly printed or not.

What the fuck?

That fear that was present when you first woke up in this house begins to bubble up in you once more. The pillow has one of your tops haphazardly stapled onto it. One you accepted as having been lost in the laundry many weeks ago. One that you often wore for your boyfriend to get him riled up when you two were still together. Lacy and sheer, it left just enough to the imagination. Now, its delicate fabric was damaged by the staples, and slightly torn in other places. Parts of the top have been left hardened, like someone came on them and never washed the stains out.

At the bottom of the pillow, there's a hole. More of a slit, an entrance. More of the stains were visible around it. You feel sick. This is exactly what you think it is; it has to be. There’s no other explanation. Horrified, you immediately drop the pillow. You’d scream if you weren’t supposed to be quiet right about now. Your stomach churns, and saliva builds up in your mouth, preparing for the worst. You barely hold in the urge to vomit at your discovery, your hands shaking. Shutting your eyes, you try to pull yourself together. Now that you’ve seen the fuck pillow, your brain is also starting to register the smell.

It takes a solid minute to pull yourself together, breathing through your mouth to avoid the stench. Had he been fucking this thing? Could he not afford a fleshlight like a normal person? You swallow thickly; it feels like your tongue is stuck in your throat. Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ. This must have been going on for weeks, possibly before you were even brought here. You let out a shaky exhale. You need to get back into your room, you don’t want the pillow to get replaced with you if you’re caught.

You put the pillow exactly as you found it, tucked under the blanket. Better it than you. Your attention is caught by something in the wall. A stain? You shift closer, having to sit on the mattress to get close enough to examine further. The mattress springs groan under your weight. It isn’t a stain; it’s a hole in the dry wall. Small enough to go undetected if you were only glancing over the room, big enough to serve as a peep hole. One that gives a pretty good view into your room. Given its height, you don’t think Feitan can see everything through it. Your bed is in clear shot, that much is for sure.

You force yourself away from Feitan’s sleeping area, realizing once again that he could come upstairs and see what you’re up to. You freeze up, waiting to hear any confirmation of your certain doom. To hear his footsteps, or to hear him checking the door to your bedroom. Inching closer to the bedroom door, you listen for any sound that could indicate his presence. Any creak of the floorboards or any shuffling of footsteps.

Nothing.

You take the chance and leave his room while you still can, nearly slamming the door shut in your haste to get out of there. You barely remember to close it as quietly as you can. Going back into your room, you close the door and lean against it, listening out for Feitan. All that, and you still hadn’t gone to the bathroom. If you strain your ear hard enough, you can faintly pick up the sound of his victim wailing all the way in the basement. It sounds like a man, but you can’t be sure. When you’re semi-confident that you haven’t been caught and that Feitan isn’t some omnipotent freak that knows what you’ve done, you allow yourself to slightly relax.

Stepping away from the door, you numbly make it over to your bed and settle back in. What the fuck. You can’t even come up with any other coherent thoughts. Your mind is going a hundred miles a minute. Is this what he kidnapped you for? To replace his fuck pillow with the real thing? This must confirm that he had been stalking you, that you weren’t a random victim. Someone he picked out of a crowd because you seemed like you’d be easy to steal away. You bite your lower lip, the image of that pillow stuck in your mind. How long had he been using that thing? And why?

You don’t know how much longer you can pretend to be naive; you know why. It was a reality you were hoping you wouldn’t have to face, but now there isn’t really any escaping it. It’s putting all of the previous interactions you’ve had with Feitan in a different light. When he stared at you, did he imagine fucking you like he did the pillow? It sends a shiver of disgust up your spine.

You lay in bed for the remainder of the day, trying to make sense of your discovery. It isn’t until some time later that you can hear the approaching footsteps of your captor. You quickly slip under the covers. Pretending to be asleep ought to be 10x easier than looking Feitan in the eye and trying to behave properly after what you’ve just witnessed. Lying on your side and facing the wall, you just hope that Feitan won’t really enter your room. You didn’t disturb his sleeping area or his books too much, you left everything as you found it. Surely he won’t-

The doorknob to your room turns, and Feitan lets himself inside.

You can hardly hear his footsteps over the pounding of your own heart. He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t move to greet him. Feitan comes closer, standing right by the bed. His eyes bore into the back of your skull. “You’re awake.” He states it plainly, and you feel like you’re going to die right there. A cold hand touches your shoulder, only separated by the blanket you have. You can hardly muster up a response, choosing to remain silent. Continuing to feign sleep isn’t a good idea, but you don’t have the courage to actually say anything.

“What wrong?” He leans over you, peering at what little of your face wasn’t hidden under the blanket. “You don’t feel good?” You shake your head weakly, your heart racing. He knows, there’s no way he doesn’t. He’s just testing you. But you can’t fess up now. You don’t even want to know what he’s going to do to you. Feitan moves the hand that was on your shoulder, cupping the shell of your ear with his fingers. You can imagine it now, he’ll jam one of his long nails into your ear like an ice pick. He moves to hold the lobe in between his fingers.

He then places his hand on your forehead. You keep your eyes shut while he keeps his hand on your head. After a moment, he switches to the dorsum of his hand rather than his palm, pressing it against you. You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat, if he can sense that something is wrong. A few seconds pass, and he speaks again. “You’re warm.” Feitan deduces, retracting his hand. “I bring you soup.”

You open your eyes, turning your head to look up at Feitan. That’s it? Really? You blink, holding back that wave of relief from washing over you. You couldn’t have been in the clear yet, no way. Feitan’s face, what you can see of it, does not betray any emotion. “Okay.” You choke out. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to reach back out to touch you, but Feitan keeps his hands to himself. You catch a glimpse of what seems to be blood under his fingernails.

As Feitan begins to leave, you prop yourself up on your arms. You have to say something, right? This is one of the nicest gestures he’s done since taking away the TV remote. It takes a second, but you’re able to force the words out of your throat. “Thank you.” He stops, and you both make eye contact. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but Feitan says nothing and turns back to leave the room.

He closes the door on his way out, only making a mental note to figure out what you left your room for. It’s all too obvious to him that you did something. Perhaps you chickened out before actually going anywhere; either way, he can’t let your behavior go uncorrected. For now though, he supposes he can play nice.

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eedygy · 1 year ago

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Scaramouche Masterlist

Handwritten Notes

Handwritten Notes Series: They leave before you wake up

Fluff

Pretending to be your boyfriend

You say “I love you” for the first time

When you get a lot of attention from others/Jealous

Asking “What would you do if I disappeared?” (mild angst)

How he falls in love with you

“Y/N is giving free hugs!”

Kiss your Genshin boyfriend to see his reaction

Genshin Voicelines about their reader S/O

Break-up prank (mild angst)

Interrupted Make-out session (suggestive and steamy)

Hot/Cute Things they do

Angst

Death and Regrets

Death, regrets and second chances [An Alternate Ending to Death and Regrets]

“It’s my turn to protect you”/Reader self-sacrifice

He compares you to his ex

Somewhere you can’t follow

Why the two of you broke up

Royal AU Series

(Ruthless Prince Masterlist)

Confessions Series

Part 1 - Overheard

The sides of him only you get to have and see Series

soft and gentle

flustered

clingy

worried

Protective Lover Series

His reaction when someone badmouths you

His reaction to seeing you cry

Special Holidays

Christmas 2021 Special

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eedygy · 1 year ago

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kaiju no. 8 episode 05 - hoshina soushirou

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eedygy · 1 year ago

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WOOF WOOF WOOOF 🐶🐶🐶

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eedygy · 1 year ago

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some things cannot be unseen

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eedygy · 1 year ago

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Coping Day 5: Hoshina taking advantage of his squint eyes for once

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eedygy · 1 year ago

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Adorable habit

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eedygy · 1 year ago

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Y'all, I just found this, and I am SCREAMING in joy!

@hoshinasblade @hoshiina

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eedygy · 2 years ago

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Dying Devotion | Zhongli x Reader

Yo! This is one of the angst ideas I received a couple of weeks ago! [here] is the original ask/idea!

Just in case someone asks, I will not be doing a part two! ^w^ it's just a standalone <33

Word count: 1520 Warnings: angst, I don't know exactly what losing a vision does to someone and the process, unedited, and rushed <3

You had been a devout follower of the geo archon for as long as you could remember. Your best friend, Aether- who you had met when he’d come to Mondstat for the first time- was well aware of this. You did everything you could to follow the rules, always brought up the archon, and would even have exclamations with his name, you always had an offering for him whenever you passed a statue, and you never allowed anyone to talk bad about him.

And of course, you were a geo vision holder, one you were proud of. Every time you had a bad day, all you needed to do was look down at the vision you had and it brought you happiness. The god you adored and cherished had recognized your ambition and had granted you his element.

When you heard from Aether that he was headed to Liyue, you were quick to join him. He informed you of the need to meet the geo archon for his mission and you hadn’t been so giddy. You’d never had the chance to talk to the god, yourself, but this could’ve been your chance. Of course, you were also doing this to help your friend.

You happily took him to the Rite of Descension, detailing how amazing it was to be able to watch. Then… tragedy struck that day. You watched as Rex Lapis’ corpse fell from the heavens, slamming down onto the ground with a sickening thud. Aether knew he had to escape, but you were frozen- unable to even breathe.

Unable to leave you behind, Aether carried you away, forcing you to follow him. That night you cried like never before. Aether kept you company the entire time, assuring you that it would be ok. He had always been there for you and this time was no different. As his quest continued, you helped him without question. That’s when the two of you met an interesting man by the name of Zhongli. While he got to know you and Aether, he quickly learned of your undying devotion to the god of geo. Of course, he didn’t say anything. He encouraged you to talk about him though, giving you even more information you didn’t know about. You were grateful to learn new things about the late archon.

You did notice one thing, you weren’t sure why, but every time you complimented the geo god or talked about him, Zhongli seemed to get a bit shy. You, of course, brushed it off.

It wasn’t long before the two of you got closer and closer. It was something Aether and Paimon encouraged, never giving you the chance to doubt yourself or Zhongli. Especially when you’d confronted them about your feelings. Paimon was so happy and couldn’t wait for you to confess. It took time, of course, but eventually, you built up the courage to confess.

Once you were ready- and you were sure this is what you’d wanted- you finally went on your way to find Zhongli. On the way there, you ran into Paimon and Aether or at least saw them from a distance. You planned to go say hi, hoping they would reduce the anxiety you felt, but then you heard something that made your heart sink.

“Do you think Zhongli is going to tell (y/n) that he’s actually Rex Lapis?” You froze in your tracks as her words echoed in your head over and over.

“Shh! Not so loud, Paimon! Maybe… how do you think they’ll take it? I bet they’ll be so happy to know he still lives, no?” Paimon laughed and nodded, but you backed up, letting yourself hit the wall behind you. What did they say? Zhongli was Rex Lapis? The one… you thought had died? Wait a minute… so they knew that Zhongli was Rex Lapis and they let you believe that he’d died? All those nights you spent crying, every single time you passed a statue you couldn’t help but tear up, ALL THAT WORK YOU DID FOR ZHONGLI!

He knew. Both of them knew! Even Paimon knew!

You felt the rage starting to surge at the thought. They lied to you. Zhongli made you run around, back and forth and you followed him like an idiot! What? Was he entitled to your devotion because he was the geo archon? He lied. He watched as you cried every single time “Rex Lapis” was brought up and he never once thought to tell you? Even now, after you two had gotten so close.

You turned and ran, wanting to get away as fast as possible. That’s when you ended up at the docks, staring out into the unending sea. Tears trailed down your cheeks, your breathing was labored, and your legs hurt. You fell to your knees, Paimon’s words still echoing in your head. They took you for a fool, didn’t they? They even treated you like one!

A scream escaped your lips as you stood up and you took the vision that was granted by your god. You couldn’t help but glare at it- you didn’t even want it anymore. If your god was a liar and a deceiver… then you would no longer wish to worship him!

Your fury reached a breaking point and without thinking, you threw it into the ocean. Crumbling over once more, only your sobs could be heard by any strangers walking by.

---

It wasn’t long before Zhongli, Aether, and Paimon heard about your state. A friend of Aether’s relayed what he’d seen at the docks- mainly your breakdown, excluding the part where you threw your vision into the sea. When the trio got to the docks, that’s where they found you, looking all confused and rather upset.

“(y/n)! What happened?” Aether yelled as he ran towards you, taking your hands. You stared at him, your glossy eyes holding no recognition. You shook your head, looking around.

“I-I don’t know. Wh-what’s happening? Where am I?” You asked, sniffling a little. It was painfully evident that you’d been crying but you had no idea what was going on. Aether knew what this was, he knew exactly what was going on. He’d seen it all over Inazuma.

“Don’t tell me-” Aether looked all over your body, even turning you around to spot the vision but he couldn’t see it. His golden eyes looked everywhere on the ground- both Zhongli and Paimon helping- but to no avail. Finally, Aether took your shoulders, a deep frown on his face. “(y/n), where is your vision?”

“M-my what?”

“Your vision. The one you loved and cherished so much! Where is it?!” Vision? You shook your head, feeling exhaustion settle in. You had no energy to continue the conversation and you were ready to shove him off when a young lady ran to you.

“They threw it! Into the ocean!” Paimon, Zhongli, and Aether looked in the direction she was pointing in with horror.

“N-no! (y/n)! Why would you do that?!” Paimon screamed as Aether let go of you and ran towards the edge of the docks.

“Watch them!” Zhongli called as he followed Aether, who’d already jumped into the water. Paimon bit her lip as she followed both of the men as they desperately searched for the vision.

It wasn’t long before Aether’s other friends had joined in. Nobody let you leave and they spent all day and night searching for the vision… but they weren’t able to find it.

That night, nobody could understand why you’d throw away something you cherished so much. It was a gift from the god you loved beyond anyone else. Aether could only kneel in front of you, tears trailing down his cheeks, drenched to the bone, and holding your hands so tight they hurt.

“I will find your vision, (y/n). I swear it.”

Zhongli was… somewhere else- lost in his mind. He replayed every scenario and only one made sense- any sense, at that. You must’ve found out about his true identity. He planned on telling you, he really did. He just never had the opportunity and he really didn’t think this was going to be the result.

Zhongli knelt beside Aether, looking into your eyes. There it was again- you didn’t recognize him.

“(y/n)... my name is Morax or Rex Lapis. I’m the former geo archon and I now walk the lands as a human. I’ve given up my gnosis because… I’ve been alive for so long and there never seemed to be an end to my journey. I… really wished I could’ve told you sooner. There's so much you would ask and I would tell you everything... but for now... that's the gist of it, all." Aether only frowned beside him, wondering if this was why you’d thrown away your vision. Did you hear him and Paimon earlier?

Zhongli and Aether stared at you as you took in the information he provided. They watched as something sparked in your eyes, but it was very short-lived. When you opened your mouth to speak, they felt their hearts break into a million pieces.

“I… I’m sorry but I don’t know what any of that means.”

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eedygy · 2 years ago

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Yandere Profile - Tighnari

We have three canine boys now (Razor counts in spirit, it’s what he would want) and I love them so much. I love otherwise sweet boys unable to fully control themselves due to instincts and hormones overriding their rationality, I love boys obsessed with their mate, I love boys who have little quirks due to animal aspects of their character. I cannot stress this enough.

//yandere/noncon, breeding/impreg (and consequentially implied fem darling for some of the nsfw sections), drugging, homicide, knotting

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 7.5

Brutality: 4

Physical capability: 5

Mental/emotional instability: 2

Restrictiveness: 7

Sexual sadism: 3

Stubbornness: 6

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

When it comes to obsessiveness, his is a very quiet form of it. He doesn’t show a lot of outward signs of it, isn’t particularly pushy and obnoxious or even talkative. As a result, you won’t really notice anything “off,” at first. He addresses you the same way he does everyone, treats you the same, albeit perhaps a bit less harsh when chastising you or correcting you over your mistakes. If you’re particularly perceptive, you may notice his eyes linger on you a bit too long, or that you sometimes have the sensation of being watched when you think you’re alone, but it’s easy to dismiss as nothing.

That being said, you are being watched. He is the stalker type, although he doesn’t really think of it that way, not at first. He just thinks of it as concern for your safety. His mind immediately comes up with reasons – you drop things a lot, you’re clumsy, forgetful, you haven’t fully been trained yet, so on and so on, he can immediately come up with a reason as to why said stalking is justified.

In terms of delusion versus lucidity, he’s somewhere in the middle, and his state of mind in regards to that can be fluid and changing with time. For the most part, he’s essentially in a sort of blissful lack of awareness until something causes him to come to a sudden realization.

He knows he has strong feelings, and is maybe a bit concerned that he’s growing too attached, but he doesn’t sense the gradual decline itself, he’s just a bit short of being in-tune with his self-awareness enough to realize he’s reaching a point where it’s abnormal.

He only realizes it once he does something out of character for himself, once his feelings cause him to act out in a way that shocks even him, such as harming someone over a matter regarding you or being caught in his stalking you. At that point, he realizes something is wrong with himself, and begins to grow concerned… but he’s uncertain of how to “fix” himself, and doesn’t know what else to do. But he hates burdening others with his problems, and thus, well, it only gets worse.

He tries his best to reason with himself, and he now realizes it’s getting worse, but he finds himself giving into the urges. Following you around even though he told himself he has to stop doing so. Watching you through your window even though a part of him knows he shouldn’t. It’s just too hard to resist. Thus, even though he tries not to, he succumbs to his urges and impulses, only now he has a sense of guilt and concern the entire time, which only gets worse in the aftermath, once he’s reflecting on his earlier actions.

However, his biggest mistake is that, initially at least, he thinks he has a better control over himself than he actually does. He thinks that while yes, his actions are a bit obsessive, and yes, it’s getting progressively more so, that he will be able to stop when he needs to. He thinks he’ll be able to recognize once he reaches the point that he needs to really do something about it, surely.

He also does take a while to understand the nature of his feelings, he’s just not used to it. He starts finding himself drifting off into certain types of daydream fantasies, however, and upon snapping out of them (and getting over the embarrassment that brings), he doesn’t try to convince himself otherwise. That’s just natural, is it not? Most living creatures have the capacity for such emotions. He doesn’t have a very difficult time accepting it, doesn’t lie to himself that he feels otherwise. That being said, although he tries to ignore it, there is of course a natural, somewhat embarrassing sense of fear and vulnerability, as he has no way of knowing how you feel about him. He feels childish for having such a worry, for spending what has now become extensive amounts of time fretting over the matter, gauging every little action you take and everything you say to him and all your facial expressions by the likelihood that they indicate positive feelings towards him. He sighs often, burying his face in his hands when he thinks about the matter.

He’s incredibly protective by nature, too. He’s always looking out for others, particularly those he cares for. Which is why he’s highly likely to fall for someone that he sees as vulnerable, at risk. One scenario in particular would be someone unfamiliar with the local area.

Of course, it’s not your fault you were tasked with coming here, for whatever reason or another. You can’t be expected to know how to get around, or what kind of dangers there are, no one warned you… nonetheless, as it turns out, you were severely underprepared. You didn’t realize that traversing the rainforest would mean a significant delay, and extended traveling time, thus running out of food and water quickly, becoming exhausted and dehydrated, and more importantly, lost. You end up getting hurt, too, injuring yourself by tripping and falling due to the uneven ground, rendering you unable to move very far, collapsing instead at a safe spot at the base of a tree.

And you were just starting to really panic, ask yourself what you’re going to do, when suddenly it’s no longer an issue. So nice of this country to have people dedicated to helping people in predicaments such as this, isn’t it?

You’re embarrassed and sheepish about the whole thing, but he seems genuinely concerned and helpful. You almost feel guilty for the fact that he’s taking the time to help you like this. Of course, you can sense a bit of irritation from him as he lectures you on how foolish you were being, but you can tell he’s a caring, good person. He offers to take you to go get treated, even.

Oh, you’re eventually headed in the complete opposite direction? Then, it wouldn’t be good to put you even further away and leave you to find your way back through more forest that you would’ve eventually been through… hmm. Well, you only have a few scrapes and a sprained ankle. He can extend you some kindness, let you stay with him. It’ll only take a few days before you’re back to normal. How generous, right? Well, he doesn’t think much of it, he’s just doing what feels right. And that’s just as much of a fault on his part as it is a charitable act, seeing as how it will turn out once he’s attached…

Keep reading

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