What If... Tighnari With Fox Reader... Breeding..

The unexpected third and final part to the series I never gave a name to, otherwise known as a continuation of the jealous Venti, overworked reader, and treasure hoarders fiasco

Warnings: general sagau, blood, implied death (not main characters)

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Hatefully Yours

yandere!scaramouche x (female) reader art credit - rome_romedo on twt/pixiv cw: nsfw, yandere, subtle hate sex, dub-con, mild f*ck or die situation note - please read the content warnings and do not proceed reading if you are a minor or do not wish to read what’s listed in the warnings.

It’s deplorable, really—how you crumble underneath his fingertips with such ease. As if the key to your compliance was simple skin-to-skin contact all along. You should’ve been wary of the concealed malice in his smile when you had the chance. After all, it would’ve done you well to put as much distance between yourself and the Fatui Harbinger. Deep down you knew something was off when he presented himself in such a friendly manner, as if he were a mere drifter lacking a clear route.

His kindness had felt so undeniably real, though, and that’s what left you floored. You thought his smile was pleasant enough and if Mona hadn’t stepped in you would’ve let him join your party. Now that you were aware of the reality, it made more sense that he’d put up an innocently helpful front, wanting to get as close to you as possible before bringing the hatchet down. He’s a clever one, but the Fatui have always been good at scheming.

What a little rat, you think, gritting your teeth as you’re brought back to your senses. Your current situation doesn’t allow you to hide away in the inner most nooks and crannies of your head. Unless you fancy a swift beheading, which is the exact thing you’re trying to avoid.

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Pacing Game [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: Pacing Game [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re due to give birth any day now, and you’ve never been so terrified. 

Word Count: 2524

Notes: Yandere, arranged marriage, pregnant afab reader, mentions of physical roughness, non-graphic childbirth descriptions

Your husband, the great and feared Sixth Harbringer, has never been terribly affectionate. As if that would surprise anyone, not that you have anyone you could tell this to; perhaps the gaggle of prim attendants who are frequently at your side, but no–they’re his crows, little spies that will flutter to this side the moment you say anything worth repeating.

It’s the truth, however. He’s never been one to plant soft kisses on your forehead in the morning or wax on about how the beauty of the most stunning blossoms were nothing compared to your smile. He has never told you he loves you, though you’re certain that he wants you–bruised wrists and bruised lips and your currently swollen belly can attest to that.

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— and i'll call you..!

summary : when the genshin men call you "his".

cw : nothing to note

genre : romantic fluff!

characters : albedo, diluc, xiao, ayato

albedo ; the science of observation.

getting matching stationeries with albedo was a terrible idea. it's hard to discern which pens are yours when they're identical to his. your only hope of finding out would be by asking your boyfriend. "hey, albedo? is this pen mine or yours?" is a question heard often during study sessions. one quick glance, and he'd answer with a curt "mine." but on days where studying gets a little too boring, you decide to play with him. "albedo, is this mine or yours?" he does his signature quick glance, only to double take when he sees your finger resembling a mischievous arrow to yourself. he pulls you closer to study your features- eyes glazing over your skin with a smirk. "hm... i believe this is all mine."

diluc ragnvindr ; rare occurrences.

many a time does diluc call you his- though he mostly doesn't do it verbally. rather, the title of being 'diluc's partner' comes with the many gifts and accessories he gets you. you don yourself with expensives only the uncrowned king of mondstadt could afford, and he cannot be prouder of himself; hoping to get more and more until you've drowned yourself in his name. despite this, the times he's actually uttered the word "mine" can be counted on one hand. you add one more to the list when he comes up behind you, facing a mirror. a small smile graces his face. "you're stunning," he whispers, before taking a hesitant breath. "you.. look like you're mine."

xiao ; noisy lips.

xiao isn't a vocal lover. he's more of an action guy, someone who presents his love on a plate of romantic gestures. hold him in your arms, however, and his tight lips turn loose. his breaths explore the vast expanse of your neck as he snuggles up within your embrace. "mine," he mumbles, smearing a warm sensation onto your skin. that warm sensation is followed by a kiss- short, wet, and full of affection. "mine," he whispers again. again. again- leaving a trail of kisses that lead up to your jaw. and when his pupils meet yours through the top half of his eyelids, you're met with an urgent question. "mine?" and it's almost a plead. you laugh- "yes, xiao, i'm yours."

kamisato ayato ; claiming his rights.

being ayato's partner means that you're often free when he's not. there are, of course, many ways in which you would spend your time. thoma would be one of them. on days when you're feeling active, consuming your energy is best done with inazuma's fixer. him running errands all over town is your second best source of entertainment- the first being "accidentally" bumping into ayato at the boba store. your lover's feigned surprise always ends with a playful wink; right before he leaves for more work. at the end of the day, as you chat with thoma through the exhaustion, ayato'll come to pick you up. "pardon the intrusion- i'd like to take back what's mine."

Title: Tea Screen [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: Tea Screen [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: The trembling voice of the tea apprentice carries through the room, and though you can’t see him, you imagine he must be shaking. Who wouldn’t be, tasked with gaining the approval from the Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbringers? 

Word Count: 2240

Notes: Yandere, forced marriage, abuse

 “Is–is it acceptable, my lord?”

The trembling voice of the tea apprentice carries through the room, and though you can’t see him, you imagine he must be shaking. Who wouldn’t be, tasked with gaining the approval from the Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbringers? Even if its only approval for a selection of tea.

You rock forward, just enough to peek your head past the screen keeping you from view, and glance at the selection laid out carefully in front of Scaramouche–in front of your husband. 

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Think of Me | Yan!Venti x Reader x Yan!Diluc Opera AU

Summary: Master Diluc, the infamous composer, has been the Opera's greatest star for years now, being a favorite among the elite, as well as your devoted teacher. Nevertheless, Venti's growing popularity among the masses garners your attention.

Credits: This series is heavily inspired by Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Phantom of the Opera”, as well as Bernard Rose’s “The Devil’s Violinist”. This short fic is part of the Opera AU series. Warnings: General Dark and Yandere themes, implied stalking

“She may not remember me, but I remember her” ― "The Phantom of the Opera".

You had heard about the joyful bard that enraptured the public's attention. Known to play in the lesser of stages, as some would call them: places such as taverns, bars, and busy streets. He seemed to dislike and criticize the pretentiousness that surrounded the Opera you worked in, to the point of refusing to lend any of his compositions to be adapted to the greatest stage of all.

You met him while running your usual errands outside the Opera, a few weeks after your debut, joining the multitude comprised of people of all standings who gathered around the small plaza to listen to him play the lyre and, just like them, became instantly fascinated by his whimsical style.

He dressed... extravagantly. His clothes were mismatched and had patches from different materials, which you found endearing and sort of charming. The only thing of value he seemed to carry was his lyre and the small hat that sat on the floor to collect tips, which was filled to the brim.

After apparently recognizing you, the mysterious bard asked you to join him for a very popular love song, the type that your Maestro would think of as too mundane and corny, making you hesitate for a minute before you ended up agreeing after some pressure in the guise of encouragement from the audience.

To your surprise, never in your entire career had you had that much fun singing. His music reflected in many ways the nature you had long before Master Diluc discovered you. It had a lively, effervescent joyfulness to it. It had no need for perfection, nor the dark exigency that you had become used to with Master Diluc's complicated pieces. Its simplicity felt right and freeing, and it brought you to happier times when you practiced for the choir try-outs as a child. The melody felt like a memory, which in turn felt like home.

His gaze rested on you for the entire performance, with a strange understanding, as if he knew you from a time past and this was the culmination of a long-awaited reunion. The same type of longing look a foreigner makes after hearing someone speak the same language as them.

The melodious last note is mixed with the loud cheer from the audience, which had doubled during the song. You raise your hand over your lips as you let a small giggle escape them, slightly surprised and amused by how you'd lost yourself in the performance.

Seeking the gaze of the bard, you are, for a moment, slightly taken aback.

By what, exactly? It was hard to pin down, as his eyes had an eerie and slightly unsettling quality of grim delight, of somber joyfulness…if such words could ever be used to describe the same thing. But it gave you the feeling that, despite the triviality of this moment, something had occurred.

The cheering stops abruptly, promptly followed by startled gasps that draw your attention. The audience in front of you begins to divide into a clear line, and your heart stops at the sight of your Maestro. Your smile died down instantly.

In unconscious response to the coldness of Master Diluc's gaze, you lower your eyelids and bow your head, surveying his dark profile in secret from beneath your lashes. Silence reigned, as fascination settled in among the crowd. He had a certain quality that created a conception of him as a being with a superior understanding of everything beautiful and solemn, the one and only authority when it came to music. You yourself were tightly enmeshed by it and felt in debt to your beloved Maestro, who had miraculously condescended to favor you over the rest.

The air condensed as he approached, his slow steps matching the slow thick strokes of your heartbeat. People started to feel the awkward tension, but the young bard stood unbothered by him, a charming smile illuminating his face. They exchanged some common courtesies, and even vaguer compliments, but you could barely pay any attention to them.

Your whole perception of your surroundings was hazy at best, barely making up something along the lines of: "Maestro Diluc! I borrowed your little songbird for a tune, I'm sure you don't mind" and "You heard about me, Sir? I'm flattered!", which sounded... almost like mocking, but Master Diluc tilted his head anyways, which seemed to lift the tension for a moment.

After a short indication, you wrap your arm around his, ready to leave the small, sunny plaza for his somber candlelit kingdom. Just before you start walking, the bard gently takes your hand, raising it up to his lips.

"It truly was my pleasure, Miss."

You feel Master Diluc's arm tense immediately but says nothing as you thank your previous music partner with a small bow. As both of you turn your backs to the bard, you see him reach into his pocket and pull out a single bill, which he drops into the bard's tipping hat, skidding over the coins to the dirty floor.

"Is it true? Are you absolutely sure?"

"I saw it with my own eyes! They brought the music sheet to the Director's office, but I think it appeared in her dressing room first, signed "Venti the bard" and all. Apparently, he wants no other singer, that's his sole condition."

"I thought he didn't like Opera Houses"

"Well, something must've changed his mind."

scaramouche + "bite me please."

LMAO, anyway, love your writing!

note: yandere, forced marriage, sassiness, mild sexy times

--

The sound Scaramouche makes is akin to a splutter.

"What did I do," he mutters, fingers trailing over your partially bared skin, "to deserve such an unbecoming, lewd--"

"Aren't you the one currently in between my thighs, husband?"

At this, he shuts up entirely. You can practically hear the indignant expression on his face. Beautiful.

You sigh, amused, pleased at his reaction, and splay your arms out over the silken sheets underneath you. Oh, how you relish the swishing sound they made. You imagine that you were supposed to revel in the luxury afforded to you, being the wife of a Harbringer and blah, blah, blah.

But what you reveled in wasn't the thread count or the cost or the envy of the servants who made the beds, but the funny, satisfying sound the silk sheets made when you wiggled around on them.

"Obstinate," he mutters, breath puffing out against your skin. "In every way."

"You could always petition the Tsaritsa for a divorce, if you're so bothered by me." You make the grin plain in your voice, since your husband is oh-so-lovingly occupied with the opposite side of your body.

You think you've won, but then, a sudden harsh, gripping pain in your thigh forces a squeal from between your lips and you bolt upright in the bed.

Skin flushed, you look down at the red teeth marks square in the middle of your inner thigh.

He bit you!

Scaramouche smiles thinly up at you.

"I only did what you asked, dear spouse."

You huff, and prepare to gather your robe up and storm off--a good tantrum might set him straight--but he pushes you back down on the bed and looms over you before you can blink.

Oh. Oh dear. You know the look in his eyes, you know this force in his grip. Not true anger, but a rush of flushed huffiness that always makes him want to control you. Steer you somewhere, whether you like it or not.

"Where else should I bite, hm?" He asks, eyeing your skin. Your lips, your neck, your chest, and everywhere else.

Your fingers twist against the silk sheets. Swish, swish, swish.

"Anywhere you please," you say, voice twisting into mockery of a subservient, cooing spouse. You still can't decide if that's what he truly wanted out of you--why else force you into this?--or not.

There's a flush to his cheeks, a prickling heat that seems to radiate off him, and it makes you grin.

"Just know, husband, I'll bite you back for each one. Twice."

scaramouche being all huffy and "it's not like i like you or anything" is honestly kind of adorable (if you can ignore everything else about him lmao)

i wonder what would happen if darling accidentally let it slip that they think that? would he get angry, assuming he's being mocked? or would he get flustered after hearing that darling thinks he's cute?

personally, i think he'd start to get angry before the words process in his mind. then he probably turns red and replays the scene in his mind for the next few centuries

oh, he'd most definitely start voicing his dissent in very colorful terms.

adorable... the audacity of you. do you see these hands of his? do you know how many lives they have ended? how many they'll continue to take? not so adorable now, is he? ... right? please say yes. he wants to be taken seriously. he's starting to wonder if perhaps you've forgotten who you're dealing with, that maybe he's let you speak a little too freely. none of his admonition really sticks with you. you just wait for him to go through with his monologue and move onto the next thing.

it'd be a blow to his pride, undoubtedly. he has an image to maintain! you inadvertently condemned any fatui guards that may have been in the vicinity. they probably started perspiring aggressively the second the words left your lips. well, at least their families will get a generous payout from the tsaritsa for dying in the line of duty. what a dumb way to go though.

later that night, when the dust has settled and he's done stomping around, it'll hit him. hold on. wait just a moment. that was... a compliment, right? you complimented him? huh. well. in that case, he supposes he can forgive your transgression, just this once. his face is warmer than the inazuman sun come june.

consider yourself fortunate.

good evening have you considered healer scaramouche

Random brain rot but I suddenly imagined prison guard Aether and inmate Lumine.

Never in your life did you imagine yourself in the position you were currently in but that was the reality you were living in at this exact moment. Framed for a murder you did not commit you got sent to a prison and you immediately realized you how much you stood out there.

All of the inmates were terrifying but their crimes did vary - from petty theft, to assault, usage of drugs, murder and everything in between, it was clear that you were just a little lamb that was thrown into the pit of merciless wolves.

Your roommate did nothing to ease your worries either.

Lumine was one of the most terrifying people you had met in your whole entire life, even if she was never actually cruel or mean to you in any way, shape or form. Despite her small stature and soft voice it was obvious that she ran the entire prison like a well oiled machine. Most feared and respected her while others were dumb enough to challenge or make fun of her.

None succeeded in their quests.

Everyone would either receive the infamous glare™ from her or the cold shoulder and that was on a good day. But you? She was so soft and sweet to you that it felt more like a burden rather than a blessing. Everyone in the vicinity knew you as Big Bad Lumine's little plaything which made your already miserable existence even more unbearable.

As you lay in her lap she tells you stories from her childhood and how much she missed her twin brother. "You would really like him." she'd say, her eyes everted towards the small window that gave her a glimpse of the starry sky. "You're going to meet him soon enough anyway."

You were fast asleep, much to her delight.

The next few weeks after that became even more confusing than they already were. There was talk about a new guard that would regularly patrol the areas Lumine was in and just a few days after the rumors spread like wild fire you actually managed to meet the new guard.

He called himself Aether and he was as sweet as he was pretty, and he was very pretty. He gave you things, many things such as candy, books and little items that could dull the boredom that haunted your sad cell. He was extremely doting and thoughtful but even so, alarm bells rang in your head. Prison guards are hardly ever this nice, why on Earth was this guy giving you so much special treatment?

You felt like cracking your skull open once you figured out that Aether and Lumine were related. How did you not see it sooner?! Idiot, you'd shout to yourself inside your head as you stared at them in horror. It was so obvious, so stupidly obvious that you practically deserved a beating.

Your particular prison was known to mistreat its inmates and guards beating them up was a common occurrence but no one laid a single finger on you. Aether was covering for you, do it would seem. It was strange to see the pretty blond man with a vicious grin on his face as he smacked around several of the inmates on a regular basis, quickly earning a wretched reputation in record time... And then him turning to you, suddenly smiling and being the cute boy he wants you to see.

But what the twins what to see the most in the world is freedom. They want to be together, they want to be free.

But now, they wanted you in that fantasy of theirs as well.

And they were going to do everything to turn that fantasy into a reality.