#yandere honkai star rail imagines

[harmonysanreads]

Yandere!Blade who leaves you spider lilies at the most unexpected places and times. While you, yourself are unaware of who these come from, you couldn't deny you found the mystery of this gesture cute at first. That is until, the same flowers became the symbolism of your recurring misfortunes instead.

[channelinglament]

Link

So, uh I lost your ask 😭

But u sent it as a request, so sorry for the misunderstanding hehe

Let's do it!

Everyone stood in front of the entrance to Herta's office. They were about to enter simulated universe..they were about to meet up with their Aeon. No matter how hard the SU might be, the price was too much to lose. As the price was not only just seeing/meeting you. But also communicating and touching you. The way you oh so affectionately cuddle them after yet another battle. The way you speak to them. It's music to their ears. The way you move, oh so gracefully! You could trip and fall like a shrimp or lobster, but to them, this is the most beautiful fall ever. Like a dance.

They loved you, and were ready to fight anyone in UM. Bronya literally had to fight HERSELF and Cocolia. She almost cried. She knew it is a SIMULATED universe, none of this fights are real but.. it hurts

But meeting you is amazing reward. After everything, every single battle. Every single time they died and had to go back to the "field". They were rewarded with your affections and your attention. This...this was making then feel accomplished. Complete.

No matter what they go through, they go all out. Just for you. Just to see you again. Just to feel your eyes on them for a little more

A/N: sorry that this is short 😭

@spiritoflife22-blog

[3noa3]

I can imagine yan!Jade offering you a sweet and tantalizing deal that just seems so harmless and fair, only for her to reveal it as a cleverly planned contract where you end up dependant on her because you couldn't have possibly noticed the trap hidden behind the sweet sentences and words that basically had you voluntarily give up all your possession.

She's basically the kind of yandere who'll use your dreams and goals to have you willingly trap yourself with her, using sweet words to blindfold you until it's too late.

[wispydreamsstuffs]

wow.... does he fuck?

[endlessdreamworld]

God, I finally caught up on the HSR story and I'm so down bad for this man, this traumatized guy, my poor little meow meow.

So here's some yan! Aventurine X gn! reader headcanons that have been rotting inside my brain for the past few days. Bark bark bark rate up soon please haha!!

In the early stages of your relationship, his behavior matches his superficial self, the shell he shows everyone. One of his first gifts to you would be a credit card attached to his personal bank account. 'Don't ask! Just spend.' He'd get a hit of endorphins every single time he sees a charge coming through from you. He knows it's you because he named the profile attached to that card with some corny pet name with a slew of emojis beside it, taking up an obnoxious amount of space on the screen of his phone.

It doesn't take long for him to be utterly obsessed with you. How could he not? You're just so... everything! His everything. It's at this stage, the mask slips off. Material gifts are no longer enough, and the gifts he gives you are pieces of himself. He'll overrule whatever pet name you gave him in favor of honey -- a reference to his heritage.

And speaking of heritage, he's prepared quite the gift for your one year anniversary. Once the sun had long set on a sinfully indulgent all-day date, and after some desperate and incredibly needy sex when the two of you are tangled up in a knot of your sweat and burning feelings, he'll give you his present. Kakavasha, he'd mutter into the sensitive skin on the side of your neck mirroring his commodity code. It's one of the few things he owns that truly matter to him, and he can only hope you'll accept his humble gift.

He's needy, so very very needy in general, about everything, always, in every single way. Pathetically so. He can't hold your hand like a normal person, your fingers must be laced. Kissing? There's rarely a moment when you're not being kissed, and he's generous with the sheer variety he provides you with. Sometimes it's little soft sweet kisses that are more like whispers against your flesh. Other times, he'll kiss you on the hand or face only to never pull away as if he's moving into the real estate on your bare skin wherever he can find it.

And after a particularly horrible day, he'll return home without greeting you in his usual cheerful way. You'll immediately know something is up, even more so when he puts you into a vice grip, kissing you in such a way where it's like he's trying to suck the air out of your lungs. It's as if he believes you can baptize him with your spit and turn him into something worthy of walking around other human beings, a luxury he can never afford himself. On days like this, he feels so utterly unworthy of the life he's taken from the people who have been unfortunate enough to cross paths with him, one stolen day at a time. Of course, he's shameless enough to steal from you of all people -- the sweet little giving thing that you are.

He dreams about working up the nerve, or maybe stooping so low as to ask for your hand in marriage. Whichever comes first. It's something he would have thought a lot about up until that point. He's got more money than he could ever spend in his lifetime, even if one of his hobbies was lighting huge stacks of credits on fire just for fun. With that in mind, any gem no matter how priceless would be a bauble in comparison to what you deserve for putting up with him. Of course he could carve off a piece of his cornerstone, a piece of him, and give you a fragment of God to decorate your finger. But if life on Sigonia IV taught him anything, it's how quickly your most precious belongings can be taken.

So naturally, there's only one thing he could think of that would be more valuable than that, only one thing comes to mind that can't be taken. The idea came to him in passing, an idea that's quite literally staring him in the face.

He's tried getting rid of his commodity code in the past, but even with all of his money, there's nothing that can make it go away without leaving some sort of mark. It was just easier to accept it and it slowly faded into the background over time.

So what would be more valuable than a piece of him, a piece of God? Why, eternity of course, something truly priceless. It would only be proper to get your wedding band's tattooed. You'd even be considerate enough to encourage him to pick an Avgin pattern.

While the idea of a ring as a symbol of your bond is nice, a ring is an object. Objects can be stolen -- or worse, taken off. Countless times were the things he held dearest taken from him. Although those days are long gone, and even though he's a gambling man, he wasn't about to take any chances. Not now. Not with this.

Having your promise to love one another until death do you part sealed onto your skin would give him tremendous comfort. If anyone wanted to take this away from him, the symbol of his vow to you, they'd have to peel it off of his cold, dead body. But first, they'd have to manage to kill him, of course.

Aventurine is hard to get a read on, which is just how he likes it. He's been many thing: a scoundrel, a villain, a confidante, a friend, a rival, a whipping post, a beggar, a tool, a whore, a hound, a pawn, a con artist, and a killer; all things he wouldn't hesitate to become again if the situation demands it. It's in his nature to adapt to what he needs to do, and who he needs to become. But no matter how much of a shapeshifter he pretends to be, the core of his being is unchanging and inviolable, for better or worse.

He's still that scared, lucky, little shivering Avgin boy no matter how hard he tries to play dress up. He needs you to find Kakavasha underneath all of the masks and bullshit he hides behind.

Every day he bets on you to find him, the real him, and love him. The wager? Just the usual -- his life.

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

I think Yandere!Jing Yuan would be happy to play the part of the lovesick, clingy, dozing General who begs you to stay in his arms for five more minutes. You're so warm, so perfect in his embrace, as though the Aeons molded the both of you to fit against one another flawlessly. When you return home, he's quick to rush over to your side and nuzzle against your neck, whispering how much he missed you.

And while part of him genuinely is utterly devoted to you, the other part of him plays his cuddliness up so you feel like you're the one in control in this relationship. It's not like Jing Yuan convinced you to move in with him, or to switch from working full-time to part time. No, all he did was listen and give you advice, advice that just so happened to mention doing exactly those things.

After all, it's not like Jing Yuan would ever hurt you, right? He's in love with you, and you're in love with him.

Truly, Jing Yuan would never even fathom hurting you. Just a trace of pain tainting your beautiful fair face hurt worse than the loss of all his friends combined. It was why he had to do this. But luckily, you'd never even know a thing; in your eyes, Jing Yuan is just a docile cat.

Little do you know, you're trapped in the den of a lion.

[draconic-desire]

I can’t get it out of my head. You cannot tell me that Yan!Boothill wouldn’t make you dance with him.

💥 This man just loves to show off in front of you, whether it’s his gunslinging skills or the various ways he can move his body. His flexibility isn’t just useful in the bedroom, he tells you with a wink.

💥 And still, the first time you see him dance, you’re shocked. This is the same man who kidnapped you, who has to use voice messages on his phone? Who thinks first with his gun instead of his neuro chip? Where in the hell did he learn those moves?

💥 You don’t think he notices you gawking at him, but oh, the stunned look on your face is priceless. He can’t wait to grab that irresistible waist of yours and spin you until you’re dizzy.

💥 So imagine one of his favorite songs comes on the radio, one that he used to strum on the guitar around the fire, under the stars on his home planet. It’s an upbeat tune, fast-paced and twangy. You’re unaware of the effect the music has on him until it’s too late; he’s pulling you up from your chair and immediately drops you into a dip.

💥 You cry out in protest, but Boothill spins you around so quickly you can’t escape, flashing his pointed teeth all the while. You’ve never been much of a dancer, but he doesn’t allow you to make a single step out of line; he’s in control of your entire body, your every movement, just like he controls your entire life. You spin around him like the planets around the sun, for that’s exactly what he wants you to be. The glowing moon orbiting his celestial body.

💥 “That’s the forkin’ spirit!” He laughs as he scoops you up and tosses you into the air effortlessly, followed by another round of circles that has you reeling. The swing dance finally ends when he spins you in towards his body, your back against his metal chest. You’re panting from the effort, yet he seems unfazed. His nose nuzzles into your neck, teeth nipping at your ear.

💥 Without warning, he seizes your chin and angles your face to his, devouring your lips. You gasp in disagreement, but he only groans into your mouth.

💥 Pulling away, you notice his devious smirk as he bares those dangerous canines. “I think I’ll make you my permanent dance partner, whatdya say?” He laughs, then, a husky thing filled with dark promise. “Not that ya have any choice in the matter, darling.”

[suiana]

✎ yandere! argenti headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, delusion, slight possessiveness?, kidnapping?? etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! character)

✎ yandere! argenti who met you once and instantly fell for you. his heart racing, cheeks flushed... why does he feel that way? ah! it must be because you're so beautiful that's why! what a majestic human being you are! pov you were ugly crying because you lost your 5050😜😂

✎ yandere! argenti who just follows you around now. yeah sure he needs to search for his aeon but surely this is more important right? like, his aeon would definitely want him to be with this beautiful and majestic human being! it's no biggie, he can just search for his aeon later. there's plenty of time.

✎ yandere! argenti who most definitely sees you as the most beautiful person in the whole universe. like it doesn't even matter if you believe it or not, he will and most definitely view you as some sort of deity because of your beauty. like, he's gonna be rizzing you 24/7 now. bro saw that damned house plant as beautiful you cant convince him otherwise💀

✎ yandere! argenti who might even start seeing you as his aeon of beauty?? it'll be even worse if you played into his silly talks about how he sees you as beautiful and whatnot. that'll backfire HORRIBLY on you dawg 💀💀

✎ yandere! argenti who now wholeheartedly believes that you and him are destined to be. that's right! you must've been his aeon, the whole reason he does things! that's why he fell for you in the first place, right? and that's why you're so beautiful too! you're his aeon of beauty after all... which is why... he's decided that he will not go anywhere without you anymore.

✎ yandere! argenti who really really wants to introduce you to the other knights of beauty but there's something in him that tells him not to. he doesn't understand why, you're surely the aeon that they're searching for! he should introduce you! but no, there's a disgusting part in him that only wants you for himself. all. for. him. he can be a little selfish now and then, can't he? especially since you belong to him now!

✎ yandere! argenti who takes you away with him now. yeah he's found his aeon but settling down seems a little boring, doesn't it? so he'll take you exploring theoughout the universe! don't worry, he's a knight. he'll protect you :) eh? what do you mean you have friends and family??? he's the only one you need, silly!

✎ yandere! argenti who also does your skincare and stuff. bro is gorgeous and has the most luscious hair, of course he'll doll you up too! you guys can be pretty together 💗💗

✎ "my beloved rose, you are simply the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on."

[yandere-romanticaa]

Sunday manipulating you into loving him...

His manipulation is so good that you no longer doubt your feelings. It's hard to imagine your life without him, and it shows. You cling onto him like a baby bird and he is soaking in all of the attention like a man who hasn't had a sip of water in a millennium....

He needs you. He needs you like never before, he is love for you is ethereal and true. His devotion mirrors that of an acolyte worshiping their beloved god.

Please, love him in the same way he loves you, for nothing else shall satisfy him and his bleeding heart.

[brynn-lear]

[channelinglament]

Okay but imagine-

So my friend plays genshin and I play hsr (I deleted genshin 'cuz of my storage)

And I thought:

Imagine both knowing about the almighty creator's friend, who also rules over some world

And Aeons with hsr ppl knowing about the friend of the Aeon of Origin (title by @amimo3 )

Like both celebrating not only their God/Prime Aeon but also their friend

That's actually kinda cute (if we're gonna ignore the yandere part.. Your friend might die or make them be obsessed with u both)

[yandere-wishes]

Could you expand on your Yan!Boothill having a housewife thoughts... 👉👈 pretty please

Okay, bae if you insist~

How you came into Boothill's possession is a bit vague. But really it doesn't matter. He's insisted you call him your "husband" from the first time you woke up from your blunt force-induced slumber. 

He LOVES to doll you up, all cute dresses, fine jewels and high heels. You look like someone out of those ancient TV shows from the past century. But Boothill finds you cute, so darling, and all so perfect. 

Boothill will always refer to you as his wife or little wife. It's the only endearing term that still makes it past his broken Synesthesia Beacon. You hate the word, it makes your bones rattle. There's something so unnatural about that word, when it comes from him. 

He always has you perched on his lap regardless of the setting. He could be in an important meeting with the other Galaxy Rangers, or just polishing off his guns at home. Doesn't matter either way you're sitting pretty on his thigh or straddling his lap. One of his hands always wrapped tightly around you waiste. Sometimes he holds you so gently like you're a delicate desert flower. Other times he presses constellation bruises into your skin, a special treat he'll enjoy kissing later.

He also loves to come home to your cooking. You may not be so fond of playing house with your capturer but oh boy does he love it. He also likes to play into his fantasies, taking you to galactic saloons/cantinas or local smoothy places. It's all innocent and fun, right?

Not quite, on your way home he'll lean into your ear, bitting your lobe playfilly. "If you can run past those two buildings, I'll let you go free, you'll finally be rid of me. You'd like that wouldn't you, little bitch?"

So you try, you run and run until one of those damned heels nicks the pavement and have you fall over. But right before your precious little body can hit the hard ground, a golden lasso coils around you. Squeezing the air out of your wheezing lungs. It's futile, no matter how much you kick and scream and beg, Boothill will still pull you back into his awaiting arms. Keeping the rope wrapped tightly around you and carrying you back home. He kisses and bites your neck and ears all the way. Whispering every single thing he's going to do to you once he gets you home. 

By the way, does anyone know who the "adorable little troublemakers" he's referring to are? 

[kirozai]

—HSR YANDERES AS TROPES.

Forced Proximity? Soulmates..? Amenesia! Common tropes that always end up happy! Your favorite characters love you so so much! But.. is it in the way you want?...

content warnings: yandere, toxic love, unreliable narrator, descriptions of gore, unrealistic relationships, unwanted PDA, depressive elements, suggestive, gn!reader (maybe ideas for makeup but most of the part is gn) pairing(s): sunday x reader, blade x reader, aventurine x reader, jing yuan x reader word count: around 350-500 each, 2100+ words in all A/N: I got a tiny bit carried away

Aventurine - Amnesia

WHAT’S PLAYING: engravings - Ethan Bortnick

Your eyes are blinded by the casino lights. The sound of chips being thrown and cards being shuffled fills your ears. Things feel so familiar, but at the same time, completely foreign. You turn your eyes to your lover. At least you think he’s your lover.

Two weeks ago you woke up in the dead of night on a hospital bed feeling numb from your head to the tips of your toes. The hospital lights were blinding making you feel dreary. You slowly regained movement by wiggling your fingertips and finally being able to sit up on the comfortable bed. As you gazed around the room you felt shocked to see gold engravings on the trim of the walls. It’s obvious it was a hospital, but it felt too expensive.

And you? You felt out of place.

A nurse walked into your room with a pan of what seemed like a new IV bag and other things like syringes and such. She turned wide-eyed and gasped as she suddenly dropped the pan of expensive medical equipment. You couldn’t make out what she said as she mouthed something out loud. The drowsiness hit you and you passed out.

The next time you woke up to a man sitting beside your bed in the most luxurious clothes you ever laid eyes on. He looked worried, very worried. Realizing you woke up once again his Avgin eyes-

Wait Avgin?...

“Sweetheart! You’ve been out for months. How are you feeling? Is there any pain? How… Can…?” He spoke quickly but after the first couple of sentences, his words faded into mush.

He called you sweetheart though, you deduced he was someone close to you. Someone that must have cared for you. 

But then why do you feel-

Cutting your thoughts you paused. Thinking was causing you too much pain and headache at the moment. You tried to recall what happened. 

And at that moment you realize you couldn’t even recall who you were.

After some time of recovery, you were able to get a couple of things down. The handsome man’s name was Aventurine. He is your lover. (?) You two have been together for quite some time now. You were diagnosed with severe amnesia, but your lover was kind enough to explain everything to you. Although, he was still hesitant to explain what happened to you and the reason why you were in the hospital.

You tried to get something out of the many doctors and nurses, but they seemed… scared.

Aventurine never left your side when other people were around. It was either you and him or no one at all. Leaving you lost and not being able to truly be clear about your condition. Everything went through Aventurine. 

One day during your walk around the large hospital, Aventurine got a call. He looked at it and furrowed his eyebrows, smiled at you, said it was an urgent call, apologized, and left for a brief moment. 

You dragged your IV stand a couple of steps more and abruptly stopped in your tracks as you overheard a pair of nurses talk about… you?

“IPC… they… lies… Aventurine… hiding.” Those were the only few words you were able to make out.

It no longer mattered though because Aventurine’s bright smile found you again and you walked back to your room first. If only you could see the piercing glare that he sent to the nurses. He wouldn’t know what to do if you heard about the fates of them after spreading lies to your pretty head.

After the recovery, you settled in enough to “your life”. Now you sit next to your lover whose luck shines more vibrant than a newborn baby’s laughter. You feel content for the most part.

I wonder if you would still feel content if you were able to take a good look past Aventurine’s perfect poker face. While you sleep he watches you worriedly, wondering if you’ll remember one day. Remember that this perfect love story he crafted isn’t so perfect after all. He wonders how you would react if you were to find out again the atrocities he’s committed in the name of “love”. He holds his chips tightly, but luck has always been on his side.

So tonight like any other night, you’ll smile with no idea of what had occurred in the past. At the end of the day, occasionally it is better to live unaware.

•••

Jing Yuan - Grumpy x Sunshine

WHAT'S PLAYING: Carousel - Melanie Martinez

The Luofu General was known for his joyous laughter and the positivity that he spread throughout the entire planet. He joked and was an infectious smiler. You on the other hand were known as the Yin to his Yang. If Jing Yuan was the sun, you were his moon. It’s adorable on paper, isn’t it?

You do nothing less than agree with the fact that your husband Jing Yuan was very positive. The reason why differed from others though. 

You believed the reason he was so happy was because he sucked every smile, every laugh out of you. 

Your story was the average fairytale, opposite attracts and then they fall in love. The End.

Unfortunately for you, Jing Yuan was anything but ordinary, and maybe that played a part in your perfect tragedy. 

Jing Yuan loved you. You knew that for sure. He had always been a PDA person, always close to you and you would most likely be seen dead than without his arm around your waist. It wasn’t a big deal though. This is what lovers usually do right?

Until you tried to back away. Things got… messy. 

Arguments ensued and you realized that he never really treated you as an equal. He loved you, yes, but he viewed you as lesser and somehow put you on a pedestal at the same. exact. time.

“You don’t respect me.” You stated firmly.

“But I love you.” He replied as if nothing was wrong.

You never thought your husband to be a jealous person and truly he was not. The possessiveness is what got you through.

It began small from making excuses on why you shouldn’t go out,

“It’s my day off!” or “It might rain soon.” Both are lazy excuses you’ve heard again and again. Yet you still seemed to fall again and again for his sunshine charms and wits.

You were the perfect lover to Jing Yuan, loving, kind, and malleable to believe whatever he wanted you to believe.

At some point after the large argument you two shared, you didn’t remember the last time when you had left the estate. 

You felt stuck, stuck on a carousel that kept going around and around and stuck trying to read between the lines of Jing Yuan’s perfect facade. If you caught him at the wrong time you wouldn’t see him for days and when he would return he would haphazardly apologize with the stupidest excuses. 

You never raised your voice anymore after THAT argument though. You were too scared to. So even when he scratches his name into your skin, even if he hugs you so tightly to the point that you feel like your lungs are collapsing, you find excuses for him. For yourself. To make this entire relationship work

Because you love him.

And you don’t not what scares you more anymore. The slight warning in his tone and the ever-present toxicity seeping its way into your originally “perfect” marriage. 

Or.

The fact you’ll still stay even if it gets worse.

Why?

Because you love him.

•••

Blade - Forced Proximity.

WHAT’S PLAYING: This is Love - Air Traffic Controller

There’s blood on the walls, the floors, and even on the couch. Anything you’ve been able to find you’ve smashed onto the ground. Your hands are covered in blood. No worries to Blade though. He sits on the couch covered in the blood of a man. Your eyes flicker to the dead body right in front of you. The now dead man who tried to help you escape from this prison Blade oh so lovingly calls “your” home to no avail.

Blade’s red eyes stare into the distance of space. Perhaps he’s wondering what he should do next for your transgressions. Perhaps he is wondering what he can do to make you smile again. Or maybe, he doesn’t care. Maybe he finds happiness and contentedness in your suffering. After all, a being who is forever stricken by mara might find peace in others' pain. 

But.

Past this mara-stricken being is a man who does have some semblance of love for you. Blade knew your every like and dislike. He would trail kisses up your neck and on your lips. You’d joke together. You both were disgustingly domestic at times. At least that’s what appeared. Loving Blade wasn’t difficult when every moment you breathed you were near him. 

You wear outfits perfectly fitted to your style sponsored by your self-proclaimed lover himself. Anything you want you’ll get. Jewels, clothing, books, anything you could ever desire. It’s nothing but pocket money for the Stellaron Hunter. 

Your mascara has been smudged after all the tears. Your sniffles fill up the room, you look at your palms. Hands covered in scratches and blisters from broken glass and accidental burns. You don’t have to worry though, Blade will patch it all up for you. This situation will fade into the past just like all the others. Your head peaks again at the dismembered and maimed body on the floor. You stop breathing yet again. You shut your eyes and open them once again when you feel a warm breath on your neck. 

It’s Blade, you can tell that the mara had warned off him. He tightens his arms around your body and somehow pulls you closer than he ever did before in your “relationship”. You blink once again as a tear rolls down your cheek and pray to any Aeon out there for help. Despite this, you're well aware it’s no use. There’s no place in the universe where Blade won’t find you. So you close your eyes to hum a broken chord as you prepare for the cycle to begin again.

•••

Sunday - Soulmates

WHAT’S PLAYING: Butch 4 Butch - Rio Romeo

Fairytale love stories where the prince and the princess lived happily ever after were something that you grew up with on your home planet. As you grew up though, “soulmates” left your mind. Other things like making credits and exploring the galaxies were more on your agenda than finding “true love”.

True love was a fairytale. Something that didn’t exist and that’s what you stood by ever since.

Ever since your planet was destroyed by its inhabitants. If people couldn’t love the homes they lived in how could they ever love one another?

You enjoyed travel, you enjoyed learning about other planets, cultures, and people. You didn’t have time for the nonexistent love. Though you enjoyed hearing the stories of it. You’ve met others who found their “soulmates”, their one and only blessed by the Aeons themselves. 

On your travel across the world, you stumbled on Penacony, The Planet of Dreams and Entertainment. The perfect and endless days are what brought you in the most. You could be there for days on end but turn out to only spend a couple of hours outside in the “real world”.

Real world huh?

You think you miss the real world a little bit. 

“Are the pastries not to your liking love?” Sunday inquires.

“They’re… fine.” You reply.

Sunday smiles. You don’t know what it means though. He smiles at everything, he smiles at gatherings, at your laughter, and even at the tears you desperately try to hold in. He thinks of you as something to be protected, something that should be kept safe in a cage, away from the tainted lies of others.

Everything feels uncomfortable, from the moment you met Sunday you felt an odd gravitational pull towards him. It was truly as if he was your soulmate. 

Except,

Something begged you to run away, something deep in the back of your soul. It all went away when you laid eyes on him though. 

You wish you listened to your fight AND flight response.

Everything you wear is coordinated by the Head of the Oak Family. From the tiniest detail to your entire personality. Sunday is a firm believer that only the true you can come out behind closed doors, with locks only he has access to. His mansion was the perfect enrichment for a now flightless bird like you. 

Perhaps the fairytales were somewhat true. The prince and the princess always seemed to stay forever together.

[yandere-sins]

Yandere!Aventurine who takes jewelry from corpses he stumbles over to give it to you.

Warnings: Yandere, Mentioning of Death/Blood/Bodies/Murder/Piercing his darling/Choking

Yandere!Aventurine who wraps his hands around the corpse's neck to measure whether the necklaces will fit you or not. He knows what size your throat is well enough, but he doesn't mind picking up necklaces that are a little too small. Just a little too tight so he can properly collar you. Bonus points if they have something dangling from them in the front with which he can play.

Yandere!Aventurine who doesn't mind the blood on the gold as he tears out earrings from the corpses he finds. It would be a waste to leave them, wouldn't it? You'd look so good with more gold dangling from your body. He chuckles to himself as he thinks about you in nothing but the gold he draped over you. And maybe his coat—if he's feeling frisky. Ratio might call him a peacock, but you'll be a piece of art if you'd let him decorate you as he pleased.

Yandere!Aventurine who checks every ring and brooch for inscriptions, clicking his tongue and trashing them when he finds any. It's wasted metal, but at least he can remove the gems from their settings. That should be just enough money to win you a new, prettier ring if he plays his cards right. One that he can slip on your finger and kiss reverently every time before he leaves.

Yandere!Aventurine who watches the dolled-up people swaggering around the casinos he visits, checking out their jewelry and searching for sets with real jewels that he can bring home. Not every corpse is dead, yet when he imagines what you'd look like in their necklace-earring combo sprawled out on his satin sheets. They die quickly enough, though, and he keeps a pile of jewelry cleaner at home, so you'll be none the wise where it comes from.

Yandere!Aventurine who sometimes doesn't bring food home, but at least he got a new piercing to put on your body (you'll learn to keep still after the first few he placed). He makes sure that one day, when you have learned to behave and cling to his arm no matter where he goes, everyone being so envy of what is his. He can't always win in a gamble, but how could he ever be a loser when he's got you, sparkling to the nines, all to himself?

[taintedbenevolence]

"𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖊." — YANDERE DAN HENG · IMBIBITOR LUNAE x FEMALE READER

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 — nsfw, short prompt 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — Not proofread! Use of profanities, non-consensual display of affection, obsessive & possessive behavior, (brief insinuations/mentions of) breeding kink. Dan Heng bites and marks reader. notation: any character participants are aged 18 and up. just for the record. I don't write sexual content for minors. please know that.

"I warned you," he huffed with mild irritation, as he thrusted himself inside of you for what seemed to be another, countless time. "Don't test me."

It was a bad enough idea when you had decided to argue, telling him that you'd find a way out, pointing out all the individual flaws of the manner in which he kept you trapped.

You'd begun to find solutions to your inescapable cage with this man, and it filled him with indignation, because he was entirely enraptured by you, and he refused to let you go. The very thought of you escaping was something he couldn't stand.

Being all alone was the last thing he needed. Break his arms and legs, but he'll cling to you like there's no one else he loves more and needs.

But seeing as how you'd decided to try and make an attempt to escape, he had zero intent to let you go now, more than ever. He pondered on just what he'd do to finally ingrain in your head somewhere that you were not going to be leaving – not anytime soon, nor any time later.

He was fine doing anything and everything to keep you by his side.

He'd pump you full of his seed, fill you up with his cum day and night, if it'd remind you that you had no one and no place to go but him and only him, that you were meant to stay with him forever. You would be his and his alone. Right?

He couldn't bear the thought of someone else taking you away from him. With all that he's gone through, he at the very least deserves this. Wouldn't you agree?

Even so, you'd grown accustomed to the feel of your wrists bound by chains and cuffs above your head, your ankles tied down similarly whilst his tail coils around your waist, holding you down in place as he pushes in and out of you.

All nice and tied up, open and ready to take whatever was going to ruin you tonight. Would it be his fingers, his tongue, or his cock this time?

It was a chilling feeling that never failed to scare you—the feeling of helplessness that the Vidyadhara always managed to incite within you. It terrified you—to be taken advantage of in such way without being able to do anything about it.

Whether his carnal instincts were led by his previous incarnation or not, you had not the slightest idea, and frankly, you didn't really want to know either. 

All you could do was stay down while he fucked your brains out. ... You should probably watch your mouth the next time you're mad.

He drinks up your mewls, your abused, puffy hole unable to handle any more, but he licks your tears away, seemingly uncaring about how you beg him to stop. In his eyes, this is a punishment. If you keep acting like this, he really won't be able to be as kind as he wishes to be.

He doesn't mean to hurt you, and if you'd let him, oh how he'd worship your body without leaving a single mark, but he can't help himself if you keep behaving yourself like a brat. Please, can't you comply at the very least once? Would it kill you to show some acceptance for him?

Maybe.

And with how many times he has cum inside you, it upsets him that you really can't be impregnated by him. It'd delight him to see your belly swollen with his baby, but alas, it's only a fantasy.

A fantasy that he can't help but try to indulge in every time he fucks you raw.

Perhaps it's a little wrong of him to enjoy how much you cry whenever he does this to you. Just maybe. Maybe. Your cheeks all red, stained with tears, pretty puffed lips all swollen because of his rough, frequent kisses — it makes his heart swell.

He loves it. He loves you.

His face is nuzzled up in the crook of your neck, teeth sinking into the soft skin, leaving numerous red marks that most likely will stay for a long time, if not forever, his mouth moving to leave more bruises upon your skin to claim you as his own.

"Dan Heng—" You manage to moan, almost choking on your tears, feeling him push in and out with a rapidity you cannot measure. "'ts too much, 'm cumming, please, a-ah—!"

It's all too much. It hurts too much. You feel too much. Too much pain, too much pleasure, it's all mixing up and your brain by now has been reduced to mush, your words a babbling mess as you whine, whine, and whine, to a point where you don't know how you have not lost your voice.

"Mine, mine, mine, please, s' good," you hear him murmur incoherently to you, the only sound left in the area being the wet squelch, the slapping sounds of skin against skin, your unstable cries, and your sobbing along with his sweet moans as he makes love to you. "P-please, don't leave, mgh-"

Any trace of his gentle demeanor was thrown away from the moment he had you pressed on the mattress. There was only a burning need left in him.

A need only you could satiate. An obsession that would never end.

And for what he's done to you, he knows you harbor hate, but he knows it makes you feel good, so why play pretend? ♡

---------------------------------------------------

A / N - It's a little shorter than usual, sorry </3 Writer's block has been absolutely demolishing me, but I'm hanging in there, I've got a few requests which I'm almost done with rn.. Sorry for the inactivity, I'll be hopefully posting more often if I'm not too burnt-out. Getting this one out so I can finally publish the Neuvi request..

[draconic-desire]

💥 Take My Whiskey Neat 💥

Yandere Boothill x Reader

Again and again, you find a way to escape, and every time ends with you peering down the barrel of a gun.

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, forced relationship and captivity, implied kidnapping, some suggestive content but mostly sfw. Mild spoilers for his background story; I want to write him both as a super attentive and protective guy but also crazy for you???

You’ve become all too familiar with the sensation of a gun being pointed to your forehead.

“Aw, darlin’, why the long face? Took me two whole days to find ya this round! You should be proud’a yerself. I dare say our time together has taught you well,” he concludes with a wink.

Somehow, his praise feels more like a taunt.

That’s because it is. Obviously you never had a chance at escaping from him, a Galaxy Ranger with a bounty on his head worth more than your life a hundred times over. He was born and raised to hunt, to track, to kill. You’re just the unlucky target.

He leans the gun ever so slightly closer to you, mere inches before it can graze your skin, and waits for your response. Although you know he won’t pull the trigger, the sight of the 9 millimeter colt aimed directly between your eyes still sends goose flesh skittering down your arms.

You grit your teeth and pin him with a withering glare. The last thing you’ll relinquish is your pride—you’re not intimidated by him, and it is impressive that you evaded him for so long, relatively speaking. Your other escape attempts lasted mere hours.

Unfortunately, the fact that the Ranger has always traveled alone doesn’t help your chances—especially when lately, his only occupation has been you.

“What, no clap back today? No, ‘fudge you, ya son of a nice lady’ or ‘fork you, shirtbaggin’ bootlicker’? I’ve gotten so used to yer colorful language that I’m almost disappointed!” Boothill tilts the gun and juts his hips, his bullseye gaze locked on your own.

Ignoring the subtle look of longing, of hurt, within their depths is getting harder and harder. He’s superb at hiding it behind jokes and attempted curses, but you know that look. He’s clinging to you after all that’s been taken from him, seeking love after it was destroyed in flames. If only he still held onto his human emotions and didn’t rely on that neuro chip of his; then he’d know that what he’s showing you isn’t love, but obsession.

You wish you had never extended your kindness to him that fateful day, when he’d burst into your home, sparks flying and wires exposed. One of his arms was barely attached, completely torn through with bullet holes. A shootout, he’d said, and he’d caught wind of a handy ‘machine doctor’—a mechanic, you’d corrected him—in town who could fix him right up.

It had taken a full two weeks for you to get him back up and running functionally. Two weeks of evading IPC grunts knocking on your door in search of him, two weeks of tolerating (and fine, maybe even enjoying) his crude jokes, and two weeks of stories over a glass of whiskey, about your hope to one day travel among the stars and his of finding a companion to do so with.

That’s when he’d seemed the most human. Voice tinged with sorrow, yes, but lips curved into a morose smile, eyes looking up at the stars. Reminiscing about when he was still fully human, nothing but a cowboy on a seemingly insignificant planet, surrounded by his adopted parents and siblings, and even that little girl whom he never got to see grow up.

After he’d shared his story, you’d felt the sudden urge to be close to him. Without thinking, you’d brought your hand up to his cheek, wiping an invisible tear despite the fact that he lost his tear ducts long ago.

He’d sucked in a breath and gone deadly still; thinking you misjudged the situation and overstepped a boundary, you’d quickly started to jerk your hand back, only for him to lock it firmly against his face with his metal palm.

His voice, normally loud and clear through the synthesized distortion, had been quiet, low, wavering. “I—please, don’t stop. That feels…nice.”

You were sad to see him go after those two weeks. You honestly expected to never see him again—he was a Galaxy Ranger, after all, the definition of a lone wolf—but to your surprise, his visits didn’t end there. He kept returning again and again, and not just for repairs. Sometimes he’d bring you gifts or tell you stories of his hunt, and you’d cherish those moments when the galaxy felt just a bit less lonely with him.

Then the visits started to increase in their frequency—and intensity. He’d show up while you were working with a client and brazenly threaten them to leave so he could occupy your time instead, or he’d appear on your doorstep in the middle of the night with your favorite bottle of liquor, winking at the sight of your embarrassed form, still in your nightclothes. Your world suddenly seemed to revolve around the gunslinging cyborg.

You’d had to put your foot down—as much as you did enjoy his company, you wouldn’t allow him to interfere with your career. You’d worked hard to gain your skills, and even though you were barely scraping by and living in a tiny, modest home by yourself, you were still proud of what you’d achieved on your own.

His initial reaction was an uncharacteristic and frightening bout of silence, his pupils blown wide, locked onto yours. Just as quickly, his typical smirk returned as he laughed it off. “Just watch out, lil cutie, ‘cause I know you’ll be missin’ me soon.”

Apparently, soon was imminent, immediate. You were pouring yourself a drink after a long week of work when he finally kicked down your door and announced you’d be coming with him.

“I’ve been waiting a long while now to claim you, darlin’.”

“And if I refuse?”

That was the first time you witnessed his gun trained on you.

Now, Boothill drags you along everywhere, hopping from one planet or system to the next, living together as nomads. What you believed to be a serendipitous friendship, he thought was the start of your romance and life together.

It would be thrilling in any other circumstance, treading the path of The Hunt, evading the law, tracking down the IPC members who destroyed his family…except the cyborg transferred that need to protect, to save someone, onto you. You have no choice but to be his now, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go.

“You just want to hear me curse because you can��t,” you growl. What a stupid argument to be having with a pistol to your head. Yet you can’t help but siphon all of your anger into this dumb little game of cat and mouse, of shark and minnow, of hunter and bird.

He forgets you’re not the only one armed.

You flash him the most vulgar gesture you can make. “Go fuck yourself, Boothill.”

The cowboy throws his head back in a laugh. “Haha! There she is. Wild as a newborn colt.” He grins, flashing those shark teeth you’d groan to loathe. You’ve lost count of the number of puncture marks and scars they’ve littered across your flesh.

That’s something he can’t seem to get enough of—the feel of your warm, organic, human skin against his cold, steel shell.

“Lan shoot me with an arrow, do you ever shut the fuck up?” you grumble, looking up as if the Aeon will give you an answer.

“Think ya already know the answer to that,” he replies, lowering his weapon to sling his opposite arm around your shoulders. The gun hangs languidly from his other hand, as if he’s not the deadliest shot in the galaxy.

His breath brushes your neck as he leans in and nips at your ear. “Now, how ‘bout we take this back home, eh cutie? Two days without you has got me pretty…” His voice drops an octave. “…pent up, if ya know what I mean.”

The tooth marks along your skin flare. Oh, you know all too well.

~*~

Trying to find the solution to your imprisonment at the bottom of a bottle seems like a really clever idea, at least until the room starts spinning.

The empty glass cracks against the wooden table again as brown liquor burns down your throat. What did he call it? Rocket fuel? Damn right, and you’d lost count of the number of shots you’d taken.

Boothill’s normal smirk is contorted into a small frown. “Darlin’, I know it’s been a long couple’a days away for you, but I think we should retire the whiskey for the time being—”

“Shyut up!” you slur, jabbing a finger at the Ranger, your neck still throbbing from all the love bites and hickeys he’d given you. “Thiz is your fault.”

He reaches for the bottle, but you snatch it away and instead start to take pulls directly from it. A deep sigh reverberates behind you as you stand and begin to spin around, hands extended. “Aren’t we celebrating you catching me again? You got what you wanted, you…you mudder…fuuuu…” You sway and just barely catch yourself before you tumble—wait, no, that’s him steadying your shoulders.

“(Y/n).” You blink out of your haze momentarily; only on rare occasions does he use your name and not things like darling or cutie. His face is controlled, mouth tilted downward. “Put the bottle down. I know the feelin’ of wanting to drown in liquor, but it ain’t right.”

“I’m only like this because you took me from my life!”

He bares his teeth, and you know you hit a nerve. “That little shack you called a home? Was that really livin’? All those nights we talked, you said how you wanted grand adventure and risk! To travel and see the stars! To be with me!”

“I didn’t ask for you to put me in a moving cage,” you spit back, trying to shake out of his iron-clad grip. “But you never asked what I wanted, did you?”

“Why’s this all so hard for you to accept?” One hand moves to grab your chin, tilting your face towards his tall form. “It could be just us, ridin’ through the galaxy for all time.” His lips brush lightly against your own, and you feel a tinge of warmth run down your spine. “Just be mine.”

In your drunken stupor, your anger morphs into something else, something more carnal. He wants to be the predator? Well, even the hunted fight back sometimes.

The bottle drops from your hand, shattering against the floor, as you hook an arm around his neck and kiss him fervently, your tongue running along the edges of his pointed canines.

Before he can kiss you back, you pull away, wiping the back of your mouth with your forearm. “That’s what could have been if you hadn’t kidnapped me. If you’d asked me first.” Skipping over the remnants of the whiskey bottle, you flip him the finger over your shoulder as you walk away. “Too bad that’s all you’ll get. Fork you, Boothill.”

As soon as you leave the room, Boothill raises a metal digit to his lips, savoring the sensation of your warm mouth against his. So that’s what your willing kiss feels like. The true passion he knows is hidden deep in your soul, buried beneath the dirt like an unmarked grave. He releases a breathy laugh.

Well fork him sideways, but he wants more.

Taking his hat off, he sets it on the table and moves to pour himself a glass of sherry. He’s nearly positive he’ll find you passed out in bed if he goes to you now, and knows he shouldn’t, can’t be in the same room with you when his self control is so near to breaking. Better to let you sleep it off and tease you about the kiss in the morning.

Boothill kicks his feet up and takes a long sip. So, it turns out your drunken self may actually be harboring some attraction for him. Yeah, he can use that.

“I’ll have you someday,” he whispers, a promise to both you and himself. “Whiskey ain’t the only thing that’ll be on your lips, darlin’.”