#yandere hsr x you

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Implied Murder, Captivity, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Undressing, Bathing Together

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You've learned to count how long Moze takes to wash his hands when he returns home.

A minute, and everything is fine. At least as fine as things can be, considering the bizarre circumstances you're living in. Sometimes you pinch yourself at random, believing you must be living in some everlasting nightmare—the man you met only in brief, fleeting moments over the course of months kidnapped you.

It could be worse, you think to yourself as you begin ticking off the seconds. One, two, three, four, five...

When Moze took more than one minute to wash his hands, you began to let your mind sail off into seas of uncertainty. Perhaps he was sent on a mission to dispatch some Disciples of Sanctus Medicus or clear out the remaining Borisin.

Maybe he killed a friend or relative.

When thoughts like those come, you try to clear them from your head like grime from your hand, but the ideas are like blood from a deep, chronic wound. No matter how much you washed and scrubbed, trying to clear your thoughts, you couldn't escape the constant trickling anxiety.

...thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one...

Giving up on quelling your dread, you slide off the bedside you're sitting on and walk over to a small shelf on the opposite side of the room. A row of random books lie on the wooden shelf, ranging from traditional Xianzhou poetry to encyclopedias of espionage. When you had woken up in the bedroom, there had been nothing. It wasn't until a few weeks into your confinement that Moze brought a stack of books home, silently depositing them on a small table in the kitchen.

It would have been a kind gesture, if you hadn't been blubbering the previous day about how terrified you were, and how you felt you were going crazy with nothing to do. So fearful that you were talking to nobody. Or so you thought.

...eighty-four, eighty-five, eighty-six, eighty-seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine...

The sound of flowing water suddenly ceases. In a moment, Moze has entered the room, not even making the hardwood floors creak as he steps. "I've brought you dinner. Beef noodle soup." Moze's eyes scan you from head to toe with a surgical precision, one that makes you want to shrink away from him. "Wash your hands, and then we can eat."

You nod, and tentatively step towards the door. Moze makes no movements as you walk past, letting your fingertips accidentally graze against his. He smells of nothing, save for the faint, metallic tang of blood.

As you wash your hands, you can see Moze standing behind you in the bathroom mirror, supervising you as you scrub your already-clean skin with a slow, methodical precision. You've learned to spend at least thirty seconds washing your hands, moving over every finger and knuckle with extreme focus. If you didn't, Moze would walk over, chest pressed against your back, and take your hands in his and wash them for you.

Even when you washed your hands as perfect as could be, sometimes the man still insisted on "helping" you.

Dinner is a silent affair. You pick away at your food, ignoring how Moze's eyes are piercing into your skull. Sometimes, you can't help but wonder what pushed him to do all of this. For a man who you've come to regard as extremely efficient and forward, his decision to take you prisoner is quite contrary to his personality. Not only that, but he refuses to tell you why he's done it. You've tried to decipher any sort of plausible answer to that question, to the point where you've wondered if you accidentally committed some sort of unforgivable crime, and this—the everlasting dread—is your punishment.

After dinner comes bath time. When he had first corralled you to the bathroom and began to run the water, you thought you were finally being put out of your misery. Granted, the thought of death by drowning made you start to tear up with fear, but at least you knew what was happening. Or, at least you thought you knew. Instead, after filling up the tub with water, Moze's hands went to the hem of your shirt. With a single, fluid motion, the assassin lifted the shirt over your head. Despite how you shrieked, Moze simply folded the shirt into a neat square and placed it on a counter.

Tonight follows a similar pattern, though you don't shriek, and your body trembles less as Moze's hands slowly strip you of protection. He gives you a small mercy in how his eyes remain staring into yours, but it doesn't suppress how vulnerable you feel as he lowers you into the warm water.

His hands, calloused with scars, reverently scrub at your skin with a luxurious bodywash, scented a sweet and floral jasmine. Your favorite. Moze says nothing as he continues to wash you. You'd come to understand that he didn't speak to you often unless you spoke to him first.

Part of you wishes he would speak more. Your life feels like it's shrouded in a thick mist, and maybe if Moze would speak a little more, you would have more answers to your questions. But the thought of speaking up makes you nauseous with anxiety. So, you continue to let Moze bathe you in silence.

After deeming you satisfactorily clean, Moze lifts you out of the tub and hands you a fluffy towel. He takes another towel for himself and gets dressed in simple, comfortable sleepwear. Then, he helps you get dressed and leads you through your nighttime hygiene routine. After finishing up getting ready for bed, Moze takes your hand and walks you back to your shared bedroom. Turning the lights off, he settles close to your side. Even with your eyes closed, you can feel his gaze pressing against your head like a sharp blade against tender skin.

After what feels like hours, you feel something soft press against the crown of your head. "Goodnight, my dear." The words are whispered, yet they drown out any thoughts floating in your mind. Quickly, you piece together that the sensation you felt was a kiss.

Moze kissed you.

You spend the rest of the night awake, trying to understand why.

[moonsaver]

Reader crying until they get a fever in yan!sunday's arms.... ough

--

You might have a fever.

But its hard to tell. You've been crying for the.. who knows how long?

Your face is hot, and tired. Facial muscles strained beyond their endurance, your eyelids hanging as you can't seem to find it within you to sniffle through your burning nose. A part of you wants the snot to drip onto Sunday's pristine clothes. But you know he won't mind.

He hasn't minded, not when your tears and saliva and snot all dribbled onto his shoulder. He didn't mind when you scratched and pushed at him. He doesn't mind your incessant crying. He's been comforting you all this time and you hate it even more.

"Shh", he says for the umpteenth time, his feathers softly bristling against your eyes. They're cooler than your skin, soft against the stickiness smeared from your own bodily fluids.

"You'll get sick at this rate, my love."

You sniffle again. And regret it instantly, as the snot burns your nose on the way back.

His hand runs up and down your back, his head turning slightly as he presses a soft kiss to the side of your head. He presses another, his lips brushing against the cartilage form of your ear. He shifts again, pressing another kiss to the warm side of your face, on your cheek.

"Your temperature is rising. Get some rest."

He tells you, but every moment in his arms is a tormenting cycle – you're here, not at home. Here, with him, not your friends nor your family. People you won't see ever again. You feel another sob throbbing your throat, but you swallow it down, with great difficulty, the flesh constricted and pained from a combination of phlegm and previous episodes of crying.

You open your eyes and see white. Sunday's feathers rustle against your face as they sense the flicker of your eyelashes. You breathe out, quietly; the warm air irritating your already red nose. You're warm. You really might have a fever. You pull away from his shoulder, dizzy. Sunday hums, and then clicks his tongue.

"See? You've been crying for hours, my dear. Isn't it tiring?"

His hand comes up to pull away hair strands from your face, sticking to the snot and wetness of your face. His gloved thumbs wipes the dribbling water from your nose, before pinching it playfully,

"Your face is all red. You might need to wash it, my love."

He leans in and presses a kiss on your forehead.

"Lay down. I'll bring some facewipes for you."

You can't stand being with him.

[esthercore]

Inside the first cabinet of Ratio's study lies a thick file of research papers dedicated to you. It all started with a small page where he scrambled his thoughts on you when he first started getting infatuated, and slowly as you two grew closer, he wrote your interests, hobbies, behavior, clothing for that day, everything!

Then he will ponder over his observations and try to figure out what kind of stuff influences you to act a certain way, your pattern of speech with different people (blushed like a little school girl when writing how differently you talk with him - having more affectionate undertone, as if you two aren't dating), your body language with different people, and all that stuff.

And you deserve all the effort! You managed to catch the affection of such an esteemed genius so effortlessly, even becoming his obsession, his fixation. He craves understanding you, knowing you even more than you do yourself, such a fascinating creature you are to him.

It's really really sweet, if you ignore the tiny comments on the side, how he can influence you, make you act a certain way, portray someone else in a negative light so you distance yourself from unworthy pests, how he can gain more of your affection, how he can make dependent on you.

That's just the part of his research! Very normal stuff!

[yandere-romanticaa]

A warm smile etched onto the pink haired foxian's face as he watched his beloved eat the meal he had prepared meticulously, his fingers still twitching lightly from the constant chopping and grinding of meat but his hard work had paid off in the end. Jiaoqiu was blessed to hear all the little noises that came out of your mouth, the satisfied hums and light little hiccups were like gospel to him, irreparable, satisfactory, necessary.

He reaches for his own utensils, still monitoring you carefully from the corner of his eye, never once letting the mask of a carefree gentleman slip off.

His beloved was the personification of every dark and sinful desire Jiaoqiu had ever had. The broken heart which he was still mending started to beat once more in the presence of his beloved, as if it finally found its long lost voice and sprung back to life.

The feeling, my, it was exhilarating. For ages now his one true desire was to cure anyone he ever could, to rid people of all of their pain and suffering, to hold their hand in their darkest hour of need and tell them in his sweet voice that all will be well and that he will heal them -

However, time was a cruel mistress. And Jiaoqiu, was all too familiar with its icy cruelty. It wasn't fair, just how much was he going to suffer? Even if he was not aware of it at times, Jiaoqiu was still just a person. One single person in this wast cosmos, a flickering flame of a soul which was threatening to give into the darkness like the weakling that he always was....

And then, he met someone. Someone who became precious to him, someone who allowed him to just... Breathe. To let loose, every once in a while. Someone who he just loved to be fussy about, a person so singlehandedly tailor made for him that it was practically too good to be true. He loved being by his beloved's side, watching over them, taking care of them. It felt good having someone all for yourself, someone who you didn't need to share with anyone -

Much like a house of cards, everything crashed down once he found out that he was getting ahead of himself. He had not made you his quite yet, even if in his mind there would be no other who could fill the empty black void in his heart.

A sharp thorn in Jiaoqiu's side was this absolute pest of a Cloud Knight, a person so singlehandedly determined to take you away from him, a knight so caught up in his own valor and glory that he had failed to notice all the subtle changes around him.

The devil was always in the details. No one ever paid attention to those little details. And Jiaoqiu, the cunning fox, could be a truly terrifying devil if he felt threatened.

Jiaoqiu watched you bite into the meat, the lightly pink centre catching his eye as his smile turned slightly wicked. His gaze lowered down towards the fresh juices which dripped from the meat and onto the pristine white plate, a happy smile on your face.

You inquired about the source of the divine meat for the entirety of the afternoon but Jiaoqiu would always give you non answers or simply dodge the question.

Jiaoqiu loved you. He loved you like no one before. He loved you so much that his heart would stop beating if you ever broke it. His love was deep, dark and wast like space itself.

And you had indeed formed a little crack on his bleeding heart. Not enough for him to do something truly drastic but... It was enough for him to be angry. Angry at the thought that you had allowed this knight into your personal space. You don't need that fool, you already have Jiaoqiu. There's absolutely no need for that frivolous little knight to even be breathing the same air as you, Jiaoqiu was more than capable of taking care of you all on his own.

He had made it his mission to steal back the air the knight had taken from you. At the back of his head, Jiaoqiu could still hear the sickeningly loud crunches of the endless pile of bones, the messy table which reeked of blood and putrid, his snow white hands tainted with the sticky crimson liquid as he hacked and chopped and cooked.

In the end, he was going to teach you a lesson, even if you were not aware of it. Please, be gentle with him. Do not break his heart anymore than it already is. Jiaoqiu is a sensitive and sweet man, he has no desire to be rough with the object of his affections. And yet, even he knows that a small dosage of tough love, as he likes to put it, was more than necessary from time to time.

[brynn-lear]

When Cuckoos Throw Ores [Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader]

Questionable Overview: After transmigrating to Teyvat, you and Jing Yuan had lived like family on your shared apartment as getting-by descenders. But, you made an error too grave. You hid the anonymous love letters you received from the person you should’ve trusted the most— and now you’ve got yourself a broken mind. [Fic written for May June]

CWs/tags: yandere themes, isekai, moments where you wish Jing Yuan just committed murder instead so it would hurt less, mentions of failed childbirth, nadia & vlad are adorable, implied hysteria, cute n' wholesome beginning w/ found family to "man... man.", gaslighting gatekeep is JY's passion.

"I'm an adult, Jing Yuan! I think I have the right to leave as I please."

Have you ever been so incredibly fascinated by such a mundane object that all worldly noise drowns?

"The right to trample on my heart? To leave me to drown in my despair while you obsess over a single ore without a single thought for me? I must say, it doesn’t seem very sound. Stay put while I call for Doctor Baizhu."

Have you ever had your hand reach out ever so slightly without you realizing such? For your fingers to curl— for you to seize a trinket as though you were compelled by an existence— an idea higher than any mortal comprehension? As though it was fate? As though it was a fruit you weren't meant to take a bite off?

But the most mundane of all…

"There’s no need! Because great General and Emanator of the Hunt Jing Yuan—"

Have you ever lamented a life that "never" happened?

"— I have the right to mourn the happy ending you took from me!"

Though those uninitiated will rehash the root of events in your arrival to the chasm, the most knowledgeable would start the accounts from your arrival to Teyvat.

You did not step foot alone.

When your worldline was destroyed, so, too, was Jing Yuan's. 

Lady Ningguang greeted you both with a good measure of skepticism. You were both "descenders.", though it was soon made evident that your origins are different. He was from "Xianzhou Loufu," and you were from "Earth."  Course, despite your shared tragic circumstances, not everything shall be handed on a silver platter for unfortunate souls. Ningguang was kind enough to provide you both with a shared apartment complex near the fishing port and since then, you and Jing Yuan had a bond not so dissimilar from siblings. He got a job as a general, and your current position is a little more flexible than your previous one.

Whatever principles and studies were available in the previous realms you lived in, they were carried over in Teyvat. Each word circulating about Jing Yuan’s undefeated sword and lance techniques makes you smile; he, in turn, would enthusiastically applaud your sold artworks and STEM innovations. It makes you wholly embarrassed every time he makes what is supposed to be a celebration of his mission’s success into a congratulatory speech for what you’ve done in the same timeframe. Didn’t matter how minute it was. His comrades had already considered the long-standing tradition as a not-so-private joke.

His lack of personal praise worries you sometimes…

There’s a stark difference in your approach to this new life. You mourned for yours being gone; while he doesn’t speak much about his.

“No rush,” he'd say. “All truths shall reveal itself in due time.”

You know about his world, though vaguely. He has a striking resemblance to the character from Honkai: Star Rail. Course, that implies he had gone through similar ordeals as the character. 

“I am an old man, there is nothing for me to grieve.” He told you once. “I have… already witnessed comrades pass, and then some. Have you encountered the phrase: there are fates worse than death?”

Jing Yuan closed his eyes.

“I… find it easier to assume that it might be the only way to put old conflicts to rest.” He shook his head and downed his final shot of baijiu. Yuan sighed, tasting the aftermath in his breath.

“It’s better to put a permanence in death than another forced rebirth.”

He poured you a shot.

"Some memories are better left forgotten. And that applies to you, too."

Whatever he said felt untranslatable to you, hence, you gave up on making more inquiries. If the day comes and he wishes to open up, you'll be there for him anyway.

Or so you thought.

“Heard you’re planning to add another medal to your jacket.” 

Jing Yuan nearly halted from tying his long hair up. You watched his shoulders tremble, likely from trying to compose himself.

“Ha! You've heard a half-truth, I wasn't scheming on anything, it was merely handed to me.” His tone was calm, but you heard the well-hidden smugness.

You shrugged and sipped your coffee nonchalantly. 

… You seriously wish his uniform didn't hug his form that good. Just staring at him makes the room feel degrees hotter. 

You cleared your throat.

“I didn't say anything about schemes, Jing Yuan. Suspicious.”

“Oh?” He hummed, almost sultry for your ears.

…Curse him and his damn beatific smiles.

This playful banter is as natural as the dawn of day. Rather than spending the early morning getting ready for the day, you've both grown accustomed to teasing the other person. He, in his finely ironed uniform, and you, in your comfy pajamas. 

“Since when have I besmirched my name by squandering time? Rude of you to imply that slothfulness rules over my life.” Jing Yuan joked before he moved another piece. “You wound me, dear (Y/n).”

Due to the nature of the conversation, you hadn't thought of your next move much as you continued to probe him. “And what exactly are you doing right now instead of reporting to the Qixing, General?”

He smirked. “I am on-duty, am I not?”

“By talking to me?”

“I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.”

You paused. 

Person of Interest…?

Might as well curse him and his fancy cursive way of implying something too. 

Your nose scrunched. “Are you saying I'M on the Qixing’s watchlist?!—”

“Not in a bad light; don’t worry your pretty head over such menial matters,” he ruffled your hair as he craned over, gazing at your disgruntled morning expression with a loving vigor. “They have an eye for your talent. No Ministry would ever obsess over a clean criminal record.”

You grumbled as you attempted to fix your hair, despite lacking any energy. “Thanks, that calms me down. Especially with the talks about criminal activity on the rise and all.”

He laughed at your snarkiness.

“Is this your best attempt at prying information? I must say, your current occupation suits you. I can now place a finger as to why the thought of Lady Ningguang hiring you as a profiler put me in tremendous unease.”

“Oh don’t be a prick, Yuan.” You chuckled heartily as you gave him a playful slap— which he no doubt avoided. “But seriously, can’t you tell me more about what’s happening?”

There were no further words needed. Such rumors had been on the forefront of the people’s minds: a group of rogue “mercenaries” had found new temptations in banditry— and had the nerve to stew misfortunes on the main harbor itself. As a newly enforced general, Jing Yuan had, of course, been subjected to handling this situation under the ever-watchful gaze of the Qixing. A challenge, as he likes to label it. Whatever helps him sleep at night, you’d reply.

Although, it would certainly soothe YOUR insomnia better if he were to divulge even a hair-sliver of detail in regards to how “safe” this mission truly was.

“(Y/n), there is no cause for concern.” He pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You know my repertoire— else I wouldn’t consider you a close friend.”

Your heart ached for a second.

In small snippets from the multiple conversations you’ve had with him, you knew he kept his list of close friends few. There’s always a hint of guilt in his voice when he talks about those named Baiheng, Jingliu, Yingxing, and Dan Feng in passing. 

“And I’m just worrying over you,” you lightheartedly glared and waved your hand dismissively. “You know, like a real close friend.”

You both grinned in unison as if telling each other that neither would back down from this “argument” any time soon. He snorted and messed your hair up more. Over the time you’ve spent in each other’s company, your near-telepathic way of conversing has become quite an eerie issue for other mutual friendships. 

Not that either of you minded this. It’s always nice to be understood. 

“I know that look in your eye. Don’t add a part two from last night’s horror stories, please.”

“Then, I’ll take my leave,” he buttoned his jacket. “Last reminder before I go: you have arranged a meeting with Nadia this afternoon.”

“Thanks,” you huffed. “But unlike you, I don’t sleep in and forget my schedule.”

You swore that even after the door was closed, you heard him chuckle yet again. After that, he was gone.

Honestly, with someone with a “life-loving” temperament like him, you’re unsure if he’s easy to please— or too damn good at faking it for his good.

You heard soft knocks against your window.

Slowly, a grin forms on your lips.

“Hello, little man…” You cooed as you stood up and opened for not only the fresh Liyue morning breeze to enter…

But for a diligent little cuckoo bird to deliver its very special package as well.

You’ve always had a soft spot for animals…

“Hmm?”

Your eyes softened as it dropped its parcel and leaned its body against you, warming itself by sitting cozily on your window ledge. This little bird is quite the skilled messenger— always dropping by as soon as Jing Yuan takes his leave. As to why it suspiciously arrives as soon as he is gone, you’re unsure. Such a sneaky creature; you can’t help but adore it.

That’s not to say its deliveries are not as equally charming.

You chuckled as you elegantly unwrapped the ribbon. The letter was elegantly written in a scrawl you’ve familiarized even with eyes closed for the past months, yet it still holds an intensity that makes your heart flutter. 

There it was. The two words that keep you going better than any coffee brew.

“My dearest, (Y/n),….”

“Another letter from Vlad, I’d hope?” You sneaked from behind.

Nadia yelped, hitting you almost immediately. The delay was surely from being on a lovelorn cloud-nine, but her Fatui training that earned her last name definitely should’ve made you double-think.

You shriveled at the pain and she awkwardly cradled you.

“Oh shucks— I’m so sorry, (Y/n)! I-I didn’t realize it was y-y— Don’t scare me like that!” 

“Sorry! Sorry!” You hissed, blaming only yourself for the stinging aftermath. “I-I’ll get over it.”

Nadia guided you to the empty seat beside her. As soon as you were seated, she wasted no time to spill.

“The contents were far too adorable for my heart, oh, dear Tsaritsa, you NEED to read this.” 

An eyebrow was raised. Saying you had a suspicion that something like this would happen would be an understatement— when it came to Nadia, it was more like routine. It had been regular for you and her to get together at least once a month to chat over letters that you both received. Nothing about the time you spent with her was dull. She's the reason you adapted to the Liyue way of life so well. As you were both foreign to the culture— you and Jing Yuan are admittedly the extreme cases— you and her were eager to recount experiences in times of distress. And times of pure unbridled lovesick joy, such as this.

“C’mon, pass it.” You tried to say cooly, but the glimmer in your eyes betrayed your high school-like excitement.

“Same time.” Nadia huffed. "Can't have you gatekeeping your own letter!"

You pulled out yours from your purse.

Nadia wasn’t the only one with something to present to the class. This is just like a teacher forcing students to read their discreetly passed notes out loud. 

Nadia has her Vlad.

You have your Nay Jung I.

Instantly, you both suppressed a giggle in the abrupt exchange.

Nay Jung I. You know little about him, and that intrigue keeps the fire going. When you see a white cuckoo passing by the window, you immediately know it means well. A sight that makes your heart skip a beat. Instead of pushing eggs, it slips a love letter whenever Jing Yuan isn’t around. All coming from a man you can’t track down.

That’s right.

You have a secret admirer.

As you read through the middle of Vlad’s letter for Nadia, you heard your very-much-an-adult friend bite back a squeal in front of you. Nay Jung I may sound like a feminine name, but he was a man. You could’ve sworn you saw Xiangling laugh from the corner of your eye as Nadia tugged your sleeve around like a fool.

“Oh my God?! He wrote that?!” Her lips were akin to wobbly lines toddlers would draw when mimicking the sun’s rays. 

“I find myself constantly catching glimpses of you in my daydreams, my mind flooded with what could be— what should be. Forgive me for my selfishness, but I fear it won’t take long before I can no longer bear the thought of being without you… What?! That’s so SWEET?!” Nadia clutched your love letter tightly, eyes wide as though she was the recipient.

Xiangling, bless her soul, had to peek behind her.

“I wish I could have the courage to reveal myself to you. When I doubt myself, my thoughts turn to you… Aww… I wonder who Mister Nay is and what did you do to get him this in love?” Xiangling playfully pouted, which made Nadia grin wider, almost teasing her. “Geez. When will I get a boy to send me letters?”

“I’m sure you’re going to get one or two someday. A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?” Nadia shrugged as she folded the paper and hid it. “Plus, I fear you’re too young for this.”

“Careful, Dia, she’s the one preparing our food.” You joked.

Nadia has grown more friendly to locals for the better since you started sharing meals here. Everyone knows the feelings between her and Vlad were mutual— but neither of them was willing to confess. With Nadia hoping he initiates, and him densely hesitant on whether she reciprocates. One of them can end this phase should they abandon pride or cowardice.

But Nay Jung I?

You can’t find his records anywhere… And he had told you that it is a fake name by your fourth letter, much to your chagrin.

So, you’ve settled with this arrangement. For now, you are both friends, despite knowing he has feelings for you from the start.

“Mister Nay definitely has it bad for you, Mx. (Y/n).” She gave you a closed-eyed smile. “You need to write back immediately! The man’s probably starving for it!— Oh, right, the pot!!!”

As the chef rushed back after being distracted, you gave Nadia’s letter back to her.

“Any chance of rain?” You asked.

“Cloudy with negative one percent chance that I’ll run to Northland Bank and confess to Vlad.” Nadia spoke sheepish;y.

“That’s at least five percent higher than yesterday.”

“Well, this last letter was adorable.” She swooned.

“Mx. (Y/n), you seem incredibly free at the moment, care to have a chat?”

You turned to look at the new person who joined in.

Fur coat, a distinct mole placement, a sharp haircut, and eyes self-assured enough to conceal their need for urgent assistance, it has to be none other than—

“Miss Yelan,” you gave her a polite smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Nadia sat up straight, shifting to her work mode. “Is there some business you require from the Northland Bank?”

“I have no quarry with you, Madam Nadia, what I do want—” Yelan tilted her head, her eyes calculating. “Is to speak to (Y/n) in private.”

You paused, recalling the conversation you had this morning.

‘I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.’

Maybe this is what Jing Yuan was warning you about this morning.

“Fine, I concede.” You sighed, swiftly snatching your letter from Nadia’s hands and tucking it inside the pockets of your inner jacket.

“Lead me to where you most need me.”

Over the years you’ve spent on Liyue, you’ve had another habit you’ve been nursing on the sidelines.

Epigraphy.

Better yet, it’s for the sole purpose of decoding ancient artifacts. Before you were transmigrated into Teyvat, you found that inspecting artifact descriptions and reading through lore strewn in notes and dialogues were a great part of what made playing Genshin Impact enjoyable. You devoured theories whether they were from YouTubers like Ashikai or other CCs who were eager to unravel and analyze myths from different civilizations. To be inside THE sandbox was the greatest treat. If your friends were here, you have no doubt you’d have plenty who’d look and try to pick apart Mister Zhongli’s brain.

Unfortunately, you never managed to catch his eye.

And the biggest misfortune of all, you caught Miss Yelan’s instead.

“It’ll take me a few weeks to decipher and solve this puzzle…” You told her hesitantly. “And I can’t guarantee anything either.”

Yelan only tilted her head. Strands of her hair hid her expression, and the only body language to be read was the way she played with the die on her fingers. You wondered if she was deciding your fate by giving it a roll…

You looked at the inscribed walls.

A man with horns… and his partner wearing a long hanfu… His partner… Reminds you of a beautiful cuckoo bird.

You sighed.

When she bargained for a chat in “private”, the Chasm was the last location you had in mind. Even more, it did not occur to you that she aimed to use you as a translator. For a language you only learned a few years ago.

You knew you couldn’t exactly deny a member of the Qixing, especially with how much you carried a moral debt for Lady Ningguang, so you agreed under the condition that Yelan wouldn’t snitch to Jing Yuan.

He might just give you the silent treatment if he found out you were here.

But back on the walls and the puzzle mechanism in the middle of the room…

Both were seated under the shade of a tree… 

Each holding a cup of tea…

“Damn it, why me?” You cussed out loud.

You seriously want to tell her that she should’ve chosen Zhongli. 

Not that you’d know that Yanfei begged Yelan to hire you for the job.

Yelan made her dice vanish. “If you need further assistance, and by that I meant necessities such as food and water, call for Wenyuan or Shanghua. They’ll materialize right in front of you.”

On the next wall, the horned man tightly held his partner, with tears falling from his eyes… His tail was more apparent in this depiction, but there were crystallized ambers and statues all around…

Like they were running…

Away from him…

You faced Yelan.

“Yelan, can’t you call for someone else—”

You blinked.

She was gone.

You don’t like being here.

You don’t like this cave.

You’re not sure whether you liked the fact Yelan invited you here. On one hand, you were grateful for the opportunity, but at the same time, you thought yourself unqualified for whatever piece of ancient Liyuean history was waiting to bite you in the ass. 

It didn’t take a genius to know that whoever the drawn man was, he was a force to be reckoned with. You played enough Genshin to know that yakshas are not to be trifled. If this ended up as an Azhdaha scenario, you wouldn’t want to be the nameless NPC who died along the way.

Should’ve commissioned the traveler.

As you progressed in your decoding, the texts were beginning to gnaw you. 

“Have you heard the tale of Lady ███ ███?”

You trembled at the thought.

Curse Jing Yuan and his ghost stories.

The story wasn’t even that frightening.

What got you was how Jing Yuan sold them. He had preached it as though he had been a witness. It’s just a typical unnerving tale to keep children alert, but he had always been far more persuasive than you.

“When she and her husband were out exploring, her husband left her while she sired his heir. He left her there to die.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. You quietly applauded his commitment to the bit. Should you not know any better, you would’ve thought he hated that man more than anything.

Like he was seething with jealousy.

“Some claim he hid her there to fight for a war, some say it was out of love… In my eyes, it was an unforgivable neglect.”

Jing Yuan claims sharing ghost stories was a common occurrence from when he used to teach his disciple. But you’re not an idiot. You can sniff out a reason why he loves to bring these stupid tales.

“Days felt like a prison tally. She had forgotten what it felt to live in the sun.”

“She lived only by fulfilling basic needs. No matter how thick the mud was, no matter what was within the soil— all she could do was bitterly swallow what was to come. She bit her tongue on the ever-growing famine— and wished that her child would survive.”

Jing Yuan does not want you anywhere near the chasm.

“So when it was time to give birth, she had no assistance. She pushed her child out as hard as she could, and laid an empty egg.”

Before you could even ask why a human would lay an egg, Jing Yuan continued.

“But they both passed away.” 

“Legends say, that’s the reason why the lumenstone ore glows. It contains the watchful gaze of a scorned mother and unborn child…”

“And if you aren’t careful, you too—”

“Could be trapped inside it.” 

You scoffed.

Was the tale stupid? Depends on who you ask. Was it sad? Sorta. Was the thought of two ghosts— possibly more— watching you as you were forcibly dispatched to read through The Chasm’s secrets terrifying? Given the dark and brooding atmosphere, it was a quiet yes.

“Hmm? I— I solved it…?”

You blinked.

Maybe you still retained your skills as a Genshin player. Anything for a luxurious chest is what you would’ve said. And yet, it still baffled you that one did appear.

When you unlocked it, you saw no “primogem” like you quietly hoped (it would be funny if you unlocked a wish function, but that’s unlikely…)

Instead, you found a dusty ore.

“Great.” You muttered dryly. “Just what I needed.”

It was amber in color, same as the clothes the man wore in the wall paintings. You’re at a loss on how you should report this to Yelan.

“Better than nothing.” You spoke, laughing slightly. That sounded like something Diluc would say. You should buy a dandelion wine after this hard work.

Quickly, you fished out the gloves in your pockets. It was made of nitrile, which should protect the ore from possible oil and moisture from your hands. Yelan was very insistent you wear it.

But as soon as you touched the ore…

Your consciousness slipped away.

There was a man in front of you.

But you couldn’t see his face. 

“Dearest ███ █��█…” The horned man smiled delicately as he sipped his tea. “It has been centuries since our first wedding ceremony. Do be honest with me, do you still hold the same passion as before.”

These memories appear to you in a blur.

“No, I do not.” You heard your voice say as the man’s shoulders slowly deflated. His amber eyes looked down, and his smile began to strain.

With two fingers, you lifted his chin.

“If anything, my love for you has grown stronger,” you spoke. “For you and I shall never let our draconic instincts dull, and our union will be the greatest treasure we shall hoard in this never-ending flow of time.”

“…/n…!”

One hand took his scaley hand and the other held his cheek, caressing softly.

“Promise you shall return?” You heard yourself mutter, this time weak and hopeless.

He leaned against your palm, purring as though it might be the last time he’ll savor your warmth.

“You know I do not make promises, ███ ███.” He spoke firmly. “What I keep are contracts. And I have vowed to make you happy, for as long as I live.”

“…(Y… (Y/n…. snap… out…!”

“Contracts normally sound so cold, but your honeyed voice makes it sound so romantic.”

“You know well, my love, in all my years, I’ve witnessed endless contracts and agreements. Whether it was tangible or verbal— each one was a significant chapter to someone’s life.”

The horned man softly detangled your fingers from his long brown hair and kissed your hand.

“But only one brought forth complete change. Our matrimonial agreement. The contract we signed gave me the most happiness. I’ve never signed a happier contract than this one.”

“And I share the same sentiment.” You cooed, almost cheeky. “And I hope our future child shall feel our love as well.”

He rested his head on your shoulder and sighed.

“The day shall come, my love.” He spoke. “Just wait for me, until I fulfilled what the Heavenly Principles desires.”

“Of course,” you hugged him back. 

“I shall wait for you, my dearest…

“(Y/N)!!!”

You flinched.

Suddenly, you’re not in the mountains. You’re not hiding under the shade of a tree with warm-hued leaves. You were…

You were sitting on a patch of grass, just outside the chasm.

And Jing Yuan is mad.

He had a cold unmerciful glare. His built frame towered above you, casting a large shadow. It was already nighttime. Normally, only the moonlight and the lamps from afar should be the only source of light here, but his golden eyes seemed to glow. As though it was ready to call forth an entity you were not prepared to face.

You know the depths of his anger. Years of living inseparable from him has made every communication almost telepathic and that hadn’t changed. You can read it in his breaths, in his stiff and tall posture, in his unnerving gaze.

He is threatening you to spill. Saying without words that:

There are fates worse than death.

But your pulse was steady. But your breathing was calm. But your expression was blank.

You weren’t terrified.

And you can read that deep down, that scared the General more.

“Nay Jung I…”

For a moment, Jing Yuan’s eyes widened— as though there was something he was the only one privy to knowing. His face had a mix of surprise and disbelief before he steeled himself.

“Nay Jung I?” He scoffed. 

“What of him?” Jing Yuan asked.

“He’s my soulmate.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, brief incoherent syllables sputtered out of his mouth. You evoked more emotions in him this time around. You saw flashes of shock, what seemed to be happiness, hope, and then utter confusion.

“...What?”

“I saw him.” You said, calm. “I saw him as soon as I touched that rock. My soulmate— he had long hair and eyes like a dragon— I think he was a dragon, and so was I. I think my soulmate is in Liyue and he’s hiding behind the name Nay Jung I.”

Jing Yuan opened his mouth, before thinning his lips.

This time, you were certain.

He was not only mad. Jing Yuan was sorely disappointed.

“I understand…” 

You know the expression on his face. You read him like a discipline you mastered in epigraphy. He thinks that… 

You have gone “cuckoo.”

He turned around, no longer facing you.

“I’m sorry then, (Y/n).” 

Jing Yuan does not sound sorry to you.

“What for?”

There was silence for a moment, before he spoke again, voice bitter and vile.

He was not sorry.

He was furious.

He was hurt.

He was jealous.

“Nay Jung I is the leader behind the past terrorist attacks.” He paused. “And I killed him.”

You haven’t recovered ever since.

Every medical “professional” you’ve encountered told you that you were hysterical. That you just hallucinated what you saw. It isn’t possible that the visions you saw were Nay Jung I anyway. 

Maybe they were right about the last part, you don’t want to believe it. 

It was in your instincts. That man had to be your husband in the past. Who cares if you came from another world? Maybe you were an Expy. You had to be. That person— the one who reminded you of a cuckoo bird in those walls— had to be you in another universe. 

It had to be.

Your real soulmate is out there.

And Nay Jung I isn’t dead.

But you’ve never been good at persuading others.

Soyourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveit—

“General Jing Yuan, is (Y/n)…?”

Outside the apartment, Mister Zhongli and Jing Yuan stood by the window, peaking at your form. You were so engrossed by your inner conflicts that you couldn’t hear them.

“They’ll… move on from you, eventually.” Jing Yuan spat back coldly. “I’m not the God of Contracts, but I keep promises that do not fail.”

Zhongli’s face crumpled in anguish.

“May I ask a question? Just to sate a bit of curiosity, of course.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. Zhongli took that as a yes.

“Are you Nay Jung I?” He asked. “I did not see his name on the list of the deceased criminals—”

“Yes, he and I are the same,” Jing Yuan silenced him. “Nay Jung I is an anagram of Jing Yuan. You can reorder the letters and confirm it for yourself.”

Originally, Jing Yuan had hoped to woo you with a romantic tale of an anonymous admirer. But, in your delirium, you had mistakenly believed that Nay Jung I was the same man in your visions. 

It was repulsive.

Never before had he wished to scream so loudly. He had not felt this much anger when he discovered the crimes his old friends had done. He had not felt as betrayed as when you claimed love for Nay Jung I, but it was not him.

He wanted to summon the Lightning Lord to destroy Liyue right then and there.

It was a frustration he had never felt before. Not when he was training with Jingliu. Not when he was scolding Yanqing. Not ever.

But Jing Yuan was not an impulsive man.

He prides his patience.

He prefers to scheme quietly rather than flashing bold moves.

Jing Yuan sucked in a breath between his teeth. 

“I suppose it’s my turn to ask.”

He shut the windows and Zhongli’s heart ached as he could no longer see you.

But then he turned to look at Jing Yuan.

And he knew…

Jing Yuan is much older and wiser than he looks.

“Tell me, Rex Lapis,” he spoke sharply. “Did you wed this world’s version of (Y/n) (L/n) and leave her and her child to die?”

…

…

…

That silence was enough.

Jing Yuan’s private investigations behind your back were right.

In the vast “multi-verse”, there is a version of you that married this dragon who descended from his Archon status.

“I... have wrought upon them great suffering. I am unworthy of their affections. Should a day come where (Y/n) enacts the fury of my wife and child on their behalf, it will be justly deserved.”

Zhongli did not further elaborate.

Whatever happened in the past, it still haunted him to this day. Lingering in the back of his mind, dulling his self-confidence and wits. Maybe it’s why Yanfei thought you should investigate the cave. Maybe she wanted the alternate version of ███ ███ to come back.

But she's gone.

Jing Yuan took a step closer.

“Your wife is dead, Rex Lapis. They are my (Y/n), not yours.”

“I-… I know.” Zhongli— no— Morax spoke, voice laced with grief. “I know she and (Y/n) are not the same, however, I…”

Another step.

“If you wish for their happiness, you will continue to not speak to them. You have done enough damage.”

Morax closed his eyes mournfully. “I am well aware of this”

Another step.

“Let me take care of (Y/n). Let me make them happy.”

And another.

Jing Yuan stared deep into Morax’s soul.

In all his years of living, it didn’t occur to Morax that he’d find another familiar cuckoo again.

But it wasn’t his wife.

Jing Yuan took another step.

This man in front of him was pushing and pushing…

“Let this conversation be a verbal contract,” he said. “That I, Jing Yuan, vow to make (Y/n) happy, and that you, Rex Lapis, shall step down as a final way to atone your sins of uxoricide and filicide. Do you accept?”

Like a cuckoo throwing an egg off the nest.

Forgive me, dearest ███ ███.

I am unworthy of you, let alone this alternate incarnation of yourself.

Morax inhaled deeply. He remains in his head, yet he can't escape the present. The more time he spent searching inside himself for solutions over his approximately 6000 years in Teyvat, the more evident it became what the sensible path of action was. With open eyes, Morax welcomed the return of the present. He observed the vivid hues of existence. In the vicinity, he heard Jing Yuan's pet cuckoo bird. But most of all, he felt his age.

Whatever time was appropriate to dream of a family— it had long passed him.

I am but an old man who deserves to fade away quietly.

And he…

Has the same vigor Morax once had.

That obsessed look.

That tight, suffocating hold.

Just like staring at a reflection of himself, centuries passed.

Jing Yuan, too, was a man depraved. Worse, he is a man who lost everything, clinging only to (Y/n) as his only solace in Teyvat.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan took a walk with you, with one arm draping around your shoulder to ward off those he deemed unwanted.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan brags about you with his men in each available opportunity, socially claiming you his.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan glares at someone who got too close when he thought you weren’t looking, pushing suitors away.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan rarely talks about his story and would rather talk about something you had done, making you a large part of himself.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan only cares about you, and not even a sliver for himself.

He would rather not see him destroy himself the way he had done long ago.

And just like that, the General got rid of his greatest rival— Liyue’s archon and your husband from another life.

He is out of the nest.

“I accept.”

May June can now message Jing Yuan

[euhla]

LIE : sunday x reader

yandere!sunday, manipulation, gaslight, kinda penacony spoilers, obsessive, power imbalance (reader is sunday’s servant), pet names. this is my first attempt for yandere :”

The sound of footsteps getting closer, as well as you feeling like your death is getting closer. Petrified? Beaming? You don't even know what you are feeling right now.

Trapped in a dark and gloomy room, you can't do anything except face the man in front of you— Sunday, The benevolent and self-disciplined head of the Oak Family.

“My dear, why are you running away from me?” The voice that used to command called you. Like a servant who always serves him, you happily accept his call.

“I’m afraid that i don’t understand what you mean, My Lord.” He wasn't satisfied with your answer, but still give you his signature smile.

One of his hand was on your shoulder as if that was where it was supposed to be. “Is this what I get after I put my trust in you?”

The trust of the head of the Oak family feels fake and like there is a hidden meaning. “Did your mouth stop working after helping the IPC escape?” Aventurine.. You wonder how he is now.

“He won't be able to help you.” One of his hand was still on your shoulder, while the other was holding a few strands of your hair. “No one can help you now.”

“It's not that I'm being selfish, Dear. I just don't want your fate to be the same as my beloved sister's.” The look on his face became sad, and for some reason it made you feel devastated. “You know how important she is to me, right? the only family I have.”

Lie, lie, lie, lie.. You tried to repeat the words like a mantra in your mind. It's all lies, no one locks up and restricts their younger sibling's movements because of affection.

“Perhaps, you think i’m lying?” His always correct guesses make you even more convinced that he can read your mind.

Staring in horror, you observed the movement of Sunday's hand now stroking your head. “No, i—“

“—can you imagine how scared I was when I found out the bullet hit her neck?” Stop it— “And now she has to cover it up.”

“Paparazzi and crazy fans who don't know their limits always terrorize my beloved sister. I did it all for a reason.”

Sunday's gloved hands felt cold as soon as he pulled you into his arms. His grip tightened. "I don't want to lose anyone who’s precious to me again.”

“I will forgive you if you continue to stay by my side,” he whispered. You can only be silent and accept his affection.

“After all, you’re my servant. You’re mine.”

[fancyfeathers]

My girlfriend: “Sunday would make such a good yandere, he gives those vibes. Like he could put you in a dreamscape and make it heaven or hell for you depending on how you have behaved, but reality would be a rare treat. Then there are also the cult vibes and-”

Me: “babe, it’s 1 AM, go to sleep.”

My girlfriend: “But babe, think about it”

[hana-no-seiiki]

╰┈➤ HONKAI STAR RAIL : MASTERLIST

tw/cw: yandere themes, violence, dub-con/non-con, manipulation, etc.

// section dividers by @bpdier

ON A PLATTER [YANDERE! JINGYUAN SMUT]

YANDERE NANOOK x AEON OF DREAMS READER

YANDERE VARIOUS x AEON OF LOVE READER

YANDERE VARIOUS x AEON OF CONTROL/MAKIMA! READER

YANDERE! SAHSRAU! NANOOK x READER

AEON OF DREAMS EMANATORS

— note: check out the reblogs for more parts

YANDERE ASTRAL EXPRESS/NAMELESS x AEON OF CONTROL/MAKIMA! READER

LOVER BOY [ YANDERE! DAN HENG x READER ]

NANOOK WITH GOLDEN TONGUE

EXTRA:

FANART

a/n: i prolly have more written but those fics are too old or too smoll for me to find so i’ll just procastinate and do it later uhu

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024 + hoyoverse

[mothwingwritings]

Apologies

Reader X Welt Yang

I want to preface this little story snippet by saying I don’t really plan on regularly writing for Honkai Star Rail (this may be the only thing I write for HSR tbh) and I’ve not gotten super far into it (I only just recently got to Luofo) but I love Welt Yang with all my little beating heart and I get sad that he doesn’t seem to be as popular as the other dudes when it comes to fic content, so I wrote him a little something. :3

I really want to try and push myself out of my comfort zone and get more acclimated with writing nice characters through the yandere/dark fic lens. Mr. Yang has become one of my guinea pigs so bless him.

WARNINGS: Possessive behavior, mentions of physical and mental abuse, yandere, dubcon kissing/touching.

Your first kiss with Welt was full of desperation.

His iron grip held you taut against his body, while ravenous lips pressed down firmly upon your own. It felt more like an attempt at suffocation than a kiss, and you couldn’t help but be taken aback by the ferocity at which he came for you. Was such unbridled desire always lying dormant in this reserved, kind, gentle man this whole time? The interaction happened so fast it was hard to process what was going on, let alone decipher the true intentions of the man who was perpetrating the act.

Discomfort bordering on pain-this was how you would remember his initial show of affection.

“I’m sorry.”

Those words followed his first tense love confession and succeeded each one thereafter. Every hold that lasted a beat too long, every kiss the was a tad too invasive, every moment he lost control of himself and ended up hurting you as a result of his unchecked passion, a fervent apology would follow shortly after. They would tumble from his lips in breathy whispers, spoken as if they were a prayer, peppered in with the delicate kisses he would litter over the wounds that he had inflicted upon you.

It didn’t matter how gingerly he’d treat you after, you’d wince at each unwanted kiss. The sear of his lips causing you more pain than any other touch ever could.

“I’m sorry.”

He said it so much it was becoming like a catch phrase. When he caught you crying alone in your room or when he felt you struggle against his overbearing affection, the words would spill from within him. His regrets would be relayed to you in hushed tones, mumbled against your skin, chanted to you over and over and over again, begging to be absolved of the sins he was committing against you.

“I’m sorry.”

Those words no longer held any meaning.

“I’m sorry.”

They were only spoken to make himself feel better.

“I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t apologizing. He was tricking himself into thinking he wasn’t hurting you, that by saying them he was making something right.

“I’m sorry.”

If he was really sorry, he wouldn’t be doing this in the first place.

“I’M SORRY!”

You were, too.  Sorry that you believed he was a good man, sorry that you trusted him, and sorry that you were once naïve enough to ever have given your heart to him.

[katocatmi]

𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗫

a/u: im overdosed of manhwas and this is based on pure whim. you may know me from other blogs, or not. tee heeeeeeeeeeee. i dont support the company btw, they can go suck my dick as stelle blows my back :3

summary: you, an omnipotent and supreme being that transcended beyond mere concepts, were utterly bored, having spent most of your existence overseeing multiple timelines. one day, you detected an anomaly in your realm, marking the beginning of an unheard comedy.

warning: basically timekeeper cookie but more fucked up. slaughter, mentioned death, insanity.

your earliest memories were the praises of people around you.

"such an amazing kid!"

"you are destinied for greatness!"

a quintessential example of geniuses, your hyperintelligence made it hard for you to enjoy things. you were perfect, as flawless as a human could be, you didn't need to prove anything, for people had already been on their knees at your mere presence.

it was so boring.

a thought occurred to you upon stumbling across a tragedy about two lovers, who were bereft of other's existence because they were stuck in different timelines.

for the first time, in your aimless and doomed to meet an end somewhere else mortal coil, you found something that exhilarated you. frankly, it wasn't an original idea, for generations of forebears had failed in attempts to look into the concept of time as a whole. your goal in this project, however, was not only to explore the untapped potential but also to open a new way to utilize it. at that moment, time was considered taboo, a flow of nature that mortals and alikes were forbidden to meddle with, thus the extreme backlash you were subjected to. you had never once cared for the crowd's opinions, they served to slow you down, so why should you listen to them when you had discovered a new toy to waste time on. your arduous journey led to the creation of the 'sonic embroider', the most powerful and controversial invention from mankind. it allowed the users to wield a small portion of time, not enough to control it, but enough to cause a ripple throughout the universe. some said this marked an unheard era, while others were prone to fear and distaste.

you weren't satisfied.

your belief in the item's full power had resulted in the many disappearances of volunteers, one by one, vanishing into thin air without any traces left.

well, one did return.

she, #14, was reported as the sole survivor of your merciless experiments. her mind was fractured, always mumbling incoherent words, and her tendencies to flinch at the smallest noises and vacant faces were annoying, to say the least.

after all, you were exasperated by humans' feelings in general.

her death didn't deter you, causing you to spiral farther into an abyss of insanity, one that you had never regretted, not even when your power, which was that of a being transcending beyond concepts, allowed you to turn back.

one day, you decided to ride on the 'sonic embroider' yourself. it was a much faster and more effective solution, but its consequences were to be warned.

the exposure to views of all ruined and refracted timelines, accompanied by the horror of constant dreadful loops, happened because an ambitious person dared to explore its endless cruelty was enough to wreck your mind. it brought irreversible havoc and chaos within your quiddity and you embraced it.

you welcomed the madness, for it helped dissolve any resemblance left of human nature inside you.

in the end, you remained the head of the organization, your personality had never changed, for there was no difference between the divinity and mortality. there was a thin line between a genius and a madman, and how you thrived off of it.

when they passed away, you took it your cue to reside in your realm, not before bringing forth more unnecessary entropies and messing with other timelines. the realization that you were now a sovereign of time itself didn't bother you, especially not when the waltz of discord and consternation, of divinity and mortality, mixed so well together, a symphony of your actions.

recently, you had been hanging out with a past version of yourself, a timeline where you were more caring and more lenient towards others. you took it upon yourself to convince 'her' to become a second you, as you were bored of observing without a 'friend' to gossip with. since upon 2¹³⁶ ²⁷⁹ ⁸⁴¹ − 1 timelines, there was only one you that succeeded in ascending to godhood, you chose to play an unpredictable gamble with yourself, turning off your ability to view the future for fun temporarily. you were glued to her since then and always bothered her with irrelevant ideas, not to you.

today though, you had to cut on your stay a bit. a time distortion was spotted in a nearby future, which was extremely rare. it indicated that this specific timeline had been kept clandestine from your keen eyes. as a typical bored god, you decided to give this time distortion a little push.

grass gasped underneath the footsteps of people, as the once cheerful ceremony now tainted with the ugly high-pitched screams. amid the chaos, was the one who caused it all, you, sitting on the golden embroider. a smile was plastered on your lips, like it had always been there. your one single eye swirled in a wicked excitement, revelling in the delicious desperation of residents. it wasn't the voices nor the blood that delighted you, but rather how they pushed each other back, willing to leave behind their loved ones to secure their lives. some begged, on their knees, foreheads clashed against the floor, for a salvation from you. with a mere flicker of fingers on their noses, you casually granted them the ability to wind back in time. your eye, the one that hadn't covered by the eye patch narrowed ever so slightly at their joy, giggling to yourself for your knowledge of their future.

you felt quite tired of having to do it by yourself. hadn't it been for that precise requirement, you would have 'borrowed' a mechanical armor from a fallen empire. wiping clean your trustworthy weapon, you rode away into a hole. it was an entrance to a time pocket, which you usually randomized. a comfortable place, except for those who were sick of the constant ticks from the clocks, or the hypnotizing movements of swirls. with a loud bang, an anomaly crashed onto where you usually sat, the sonic embroider.

"hello there!" you cooed, speeding up its disorientation. gloved hands gently wrapped around the small creature, as your smile widened ever so slightly.

"look like you are going to be stuck with me!" you exclaimed, examining its cog-like appearance.

[azen13]

Since somebody sent in an ask about favorite yandere males in genshin, who are your favorite yandere hsr males?

CW: Yandere Themes

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Azen posting 2 actual writing-ish posts in one day? Extremely unlikely, but now that I'm on break and finished writing about mermen, possible! All things aside, thank you so much for this ask!

I'd say absolute favorites are Argenti and Jing Yuan, but before I talk about them in-depth, I wanted to do some honorable mentions. Aventurine has a lot of potential as a yandere in my opinion, considering his backstory and how that might have affected his psyche, but I just find myself struggling to tap into his character. I love Boothill, but find it hard to envision him as a yandere considering the fact that he's a Galaxy Ranger. Still, like Aventurine, I definitely can see a motive for why he would be a yandere. In my favorite Genshin yanderes post, I mentioned how Neuvillette and Zhongli are two of my favorites from that game, and I also really like Dan Heng/Dan Feng! Draconic characters are really fun to write for, but I'm not very good at keeping up with HSR lore, so I try to shy away from writing Dan Feng because of how entrenched his character is in a lot of the lore. Dan Heng is a little hard for me to write because I struggle to see how he could act on his possessive tendencies with the Astral Express crew being in such close proximity. Dr. Ratio is a super interesting character, but I really struggle with his characterization and while I have a few drabbles written about him, they will not be posted because I don't like how they turned out. Gallagher is another character I've loved since his release, but like Dan Feng, I'm both confused about his lore, and I'm unsure on how to write for him in general when in-game he...doesn't exist? Still not exactly sure what happened to him haha. I recently posted a Moze drabble and depending on what happens in the future, he may move up to be one of my favorites, because I think he has a lot of potential and I'd love to write a oneshot from his perspective about realizing his feelings, but I just need more time working on getting used to his character before I can definitively decide how I feel on him. And finally, I love Sampo, and I actually have an idea of a fic I want to write in regards to a MSND!AU where Sampo is Puck, but he's another character where I really struggle with his characterization.

Ok, now it's time to talk about Argenti and Jing Yuan.

When I say Argenti is my favorite yandere from this game, I mean it. I think he has so much potential as a yandere, and I have this very specific vision of a reader who is an Emanator of Beauty that he finds one day and kidnaps and brings back to his ship. He's such a gentleman to them, but he refuses to let them leave. You can see stars shooting by the windows of his spaceship, see your home planet slowly shrinking into a tiny pinprick on the horizon, until it just pops out of existence. Your new home is with him, he tells you, pressing a chaste kiss against your wrist. He pampers and dotes on you every chance he gets. He can't let you leave his ship, so he brings back souvenirs and memorabilia from every planet he visits. Sometimes he takes photos if he can figure out how to work his phone's camera. Every hour or so when he's off espousing Idrila's prowess to some planet, you'll get a text or call from him making sure you're safe. He cares so much. He cares too much. He cares too much, but he means so well. He sees something of such supreme beauty, and he can't help but want to shelter it.

It's how sweet yet cruel he would be that gets me. The thing that draws me to write yandere content is the fact that these feelings are born from a distorted sense of love. What they are distorted by changes depending on the character, and in Argenti's case, I think it's due to an extreme sense of devotion to his beloved. That method of distortion is probably one of the most fascinating for me to explore. Beyond that, I also think he'd be a good yandere logistically. I could easily see him having a method of controlling the entrance to his spaceship to prevent his beloved from being able to leave while he's out. All in all, I just really, really love Yandere!Argenti, and I hope that me talking about him might have convinced some people to start looking into him more, because he's such a fun character to write for!

Onto Jing Yuan, I have less to talk about, but I still feel really strongly about him! I'm pretty sure most of the writing that I've posted on my blog has been about Jing Yuan, and that's because I feel like I have a good handle on his character. Jing Yuan strikes me less as someone affected by obsessive love, and more as someone affected by overprotective desires. He's lived centuries and seen countless close friends die, and because of that, I think when he's in love, he'd be extremely anxious about losing his beloved. I'm not sure if I talked about this when I talked about my favorite Genshin yanderes, but something that I also find helpful in terms of writing is the level of power the yandere has. This could range from something like pure strength to how much social capital the yandere has. Jing Yuan, in my opinion, is incredibly powerful in a multitude of ways. Canonically, he's an Emanator of The Hunt, he's General of the Luofu, and he's hundreds of years old. Strength, social capital, wisdom, and more. All this power makes for a really fantastic dynamic in my opinion, and it's really fun to write for.

[moonsaver]

Where the Lamb does not Belong.

You're isekai'd into the world of Honkai Star Rail. Thankfully, you're taken into the Astral Express and continue your journey peacefully, until you reach Penacony. Something, or someone, seems to be causing your system to continually crash. Perhaps it's because you did not belong here at all.

Warnings: yandere, obviously. Uh, mentioned fracture(?)

A/n; reader is a tad forgetful and can brush off a few things, and get distracted slightly easily. But for the most part, i think it won't ruin the immersion. Its my first time writing something "self aware" related, and something like a character breaking the 4th wall. I really love these tropes but rarely write them. I hope i did it well. Its roughly 4.5k long. Enjoy.

----

“Ace!”

“It's not ace.”

“Uno!”

“March, you're supposed to say it after you put down your second card.”

“Oh, sure.”

…

“March, it's not your turn.”

“Huh?!”

You giggle, listening in on their banter. You're leaned up comfortably on Dan Heng's back, messing around with a level on Stelle's phone she hasn't been able to beat.

You hear a loud groan, a fwop as March drops on her back onto the bed,

“This is so confusing!”

“The rules are simple, you're just trying to rush things.”

Dan Heng takes the cards and settles them, tapping them vertically to level and gather them onto the little table. You stretch your neck to look back and catch a glimpse of March sulking. Stelle gently pries the phone out of your hands as you do so.

“Hey let's go through our photo album again!”

“It's the 6th time this month.”

You chuckle, getting up from Dan Heng's back as you feel him shift, moving over to situate yourself around the table aswell, the the bed dipping under your weight.

“I knew you were into photography but wow, this is something, March.”

You say, leaning over on the table, your elbow resting on it as your chin rests on your palm,

“Well, you better be grateful ‘cause I just finished up your entry!”

“My entry?”

You blink, confused,

“She's been dutifully taking pictures of your progress as a new member of the Astral express. I've.. learnt from experience It's better that you don't try to stop her.”

You laugh awkwardly, staring down as March excitedly flips through the photo book. It's a bit embarrassing now that you recall.

“Here! Look, look, look! I caught [name] in all their glory!”

“March..”

You awkwardly laugh, as Dan Heng looks over at the photo March points to in her photobook, 

You cringe as you see your own expression, dull and groggy, a stark contrast to the bright letters and stickers decorating the edge of the photo that's glued tightly onto the page. You're drooling, to top it off.

“Hehe, [name] looks cute here don't they?!”

March points down to another photo right below, blurry in the midst of action. Your hazy figure is sitting up on a bed, Stelle draped over your lap while in charge of watching over you when you first appeared.

“I should have stayed to watch over, instead.”

Dan Heng comments under his breath, glancing back momentarily at Stelle, her chin hooked over his shoulder after having abandoned the game, seemingly more interested in the collection.

You chuckle softly,

Where did it begin exactly?

You boarded as an official member of the Astral Express about a few months ago, a gold brooch handed over to you, and many new faces who welcomed you onboard. You remember being home one day, going to sleep and hoping, just hoping that all of your worries and stress would just.. disappear. Your head hit the pillow and then-

You woke up. Here.

Suddenly you woke up in the very game you played to relieve your stress. Ironically, that moment you woke up was one of your most stressful memories, panicking at the situation you were in–

“Aw, dang it. I got defeated.”

All of you look over to Stelle, and to the red screen on her phone. You chuckle, as March sighs and shifts the topic.

You yawn and settle back onto the bed, leaning on a pile of pillows as March and Dan Heng continue their banter, taking this time to go through your stats, swiping and tinkering on your phone.

You've reached a higher level now. Having unlocked many items and even levelled up some basic features which allowed you to at the very least, defend yourself.

You read through the archived stories, gazing over all the past dialogue you've shared with this trio from the “main quest” ever since you boarded. Your friendship level with many had increased gradually over time, and shot up with the trio, as expected.

“[Name]..”

Stelle whines, pushing her phone back to you. You giggle, taking the device from her hands,

“Alright, I won't get distracted this time.”

-

This was your first expedition as a new member of the Astral Express. Which didn't help considering you were going into Penacony of all places.

You were nervous – how was your presence going to alter the timeline? Maybe a less “on screen” role like Himeko's? Or maybe you should have just stayed back with Dan Heng? But the experience, materials and all sorts of gizmos Penacony was going to offer.. It was too tempting.

And here you are, in the lobby. Himeko and Welt continue negotiating with the young woman at the reception. You were already on edge, but it seemed things just had to go wrong as well.

To distract yourself, you fidgeted and anxiously viewed the prologue to Penacony the system had just offered to you, repeatedly scrolling up and down on your phone, tapping your foot, pacing around the hotel a bit when–

A hand came up to your shoulder.

“It seems you're quite worried.”

You looked back.

It's Robin.

“Sorry, uh, we're.. having difficulty with the check-in and..”

You momentarily trail off, almost lost as you look at Robin. Her in game model was beautiful, but now that you're standing in front of her, it's almost.. mesmerising. Her eyes are beautiful – deep and ethereal. Pretty pink lips and softly dusted cheeks, her hair wispy and framing her face just the right way. You're awestruck for a moment, before panicking and snapping out of your daze.

You're at a hotel lobby for aeons’ sake!

“O-Oh, uh, my family is–”

You turn over to see Himeko and Welt continuing to go back and forth with the young woman at the reception, and turn again to see March and Stelle slightly off in the corner talking anxiously.

“They seem lovely.”

Robin smiles at you. And suddenly, your eyebrows and shoulders relax. Your jaw slightly slacks. Something about Robin seems to soothe you more than you ever thought.

Your eyes trail over to the bar in the corner;

Friendship level: 0

Right. She's still a stranger, in this timeline of events.

You're snapped out of your thoughts momentarily as another, unfamiliar voice speaks up from the crowd – a blonde man, addressing your fellow trailblazers.

This can't be good.

You walk up, regrouping with March and Stelle as they watch it all happen.

–

The golden hour was a familiar map to you, particularly because you'd loved exploring the place back when you used to play.

But actually being there is stunning.

The yellow lights brighten up the night-like atmosphere in a beautiful, classy way. It's almost as though you're in an old film, the way everything around you is hazy and glowing. There's laughter in the background and shimmering lights somewhere in the distance, drinks and the smell of food occasionally wafting in the air from corner cafés or so. You wander, awestruck at the sight of the landscape when–

You bump into someone, a small sound leaving you at the impact.

You look back to take a look at the stranger - more to try and ground yourself into this “dream” and your current reality. You were in Penacony. And all of this was physically interacting with you, regardless of how miniscule you must be. Whether you would have been reincarnated as a Cafe owner, or an NPC, or anyone else. As long as you were on Penacony, you were going to be a part of Sunday's grand plan.

You zone out, the hazy cacophony of ecstasy in the background blurring in the crowded space of your mind, thoughts overarching and bubbling up.

Beep!

You look at your phone, buzzing as quests pop up. You take a moment to look around the various shops, before your eyes land on a cozy cafe.

It won’t hurt to rest for a moment.

–

“Shit, shit, shit..”

You curse to yourself, frantically tapping on the screen and trying to fix this mess.

“Just– cooperate damn it..!”

Your teeth gnaw at your lip, biting and peeling off bits of the skin. It stings, but in your anxious state, you barely pay mind,

Why was the system not cooperating with you?!

None of your teleportation points worked, you weren't levelling up, barely any of the trinkets given by completion of quests were being used up! It was rudimentary junk in your inventory and now for some god awful reason, your entire system was going haywire!

System error: freespace is occupied!

System error: unavailable tab

System error: unable to access tab

System error: unable to complete..

“Yeah, yeah I got it you little-”

“Is something the matter?”

You gasped under your breath, a chill shooting up your spine as you turn around,

“No, no! Nothing, haha just.. uh..”

You awkwardly shuffle, pretending to look into your bag,

“You seem to be having trouble.”

Sunday's poised figure contrasts your sweaty, nervous, fidgeting one, as you only panic more at his words.

“Oh, just.. well.. it’s my first time visiting another world, so..”

“Ah, first time jitters? I’m faintly familiar.”

You chuckle awkwardly, but your humour doesn't seem to be exactly matched. Sunday’s smile doesn't widen or lessen, and neither does he chuckle. You realise how uncanny he looks in the dim lights of the Golden Hour barely illuminating his face in the alley.

“You seem to have been separated from your group. Would you like me to accompany you on your way back?”

“Sure–”

Warning: you are currently interacting with an influential figure. Proceed with caution.

“..you seem hesitant.”

You look at the glaring notification on your screen - akin to when an amber alert pops up, or when an earthquake warning resounds.

“..uh, I think.. I’ll be able to find them on my own. I should be fine.”

“I insist. As the representative and Spokesperson of The Family it is my duty to ensure the safety and relaxation of guests in the Dreamscape.”

Shit. This guy isn’t giving in.

You hesitate, a bead of sweat forming on your forehead and grazing the top of your eyebrow,

Beep!

Optional: would you like dialogue suggestions to be displayed?

[Yes]

[No]

[No – do not ask again]

You sigh internally. At least this system knows how to assist you when you need it.

“Shall we?”

Sunday beckons you to follow, as the pop-up blinks away, before you get the chance to select.

There’s no getting out of this. You’re just gonna have to suck it up and be careful.

“..sure.”

-

Sunday doesn’t remember when it exactly began.

Strange patterns, predictable dialogues, and the anomalies that occured..

Right after Sunday discovered your name.

He watched as the cup from the trash pile slipped and fell onto the pavement. Your name was written on it – messily and hurried. The cup rolls down a bit before hitting the side of his shoe. Sunday watched it with indifference, opting to simply move it aside before he spotted it. Your name. But it wasn’t supposed to be.

An alias? Maybe. It was different than the name administered in your profile. 

He opted to push it back for later; but it was an interrupted thought as he walked ahead and watched you fiddle around with your phone, buzzing constantly as you cursed at it.

He breathes out, before deciding to approach you.

–

“Alone?”

“Alone.”

You respond, your eyes embarrassed and watching the various shuffling of feet in front of you, the crowd forming in front of the Rollercoaster you were too scared to go on.

Well, it's rather you haven't been able to go onto them.

Stelle and March offered you to join, and usually you'd be able to accept the invitation pop up, but as of recent, your system has been going haywire. The system probably narrowed down the scenarios you'd be allowed to participate in,in order to control the situation.

So you stood there, your mood dampened as you accepted that the system would not allow you to partake in the ride with your friends, shaking your head and telling them to go on instead, leaving you behind.

And Sunday saw all of it.

Or rather, just that you haven't gone onto the ride.

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“No, nothing like that.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. Even if you were.. he's not exactly the person you'd tell it to, anyway. You ignore the buzzing of your phone as it displays the same warning, jaded and moody as you'd been denied a great opportunity to have fun.

“..there is a new bakery that's opened up in the corner. Would you like to visit?”

You blink, and look at him, confused. He seems to have understood your confusion, and follows up,

“Until your companions have had their fill. Just for a cup of coffee.”

You hesitate, humming in contemplation. You look at the options displayed;

Options:

 □ “Sure. Let's go.”

 □ “sorry, my husband's waiting for me on the express.

 □ “No thank y–

 System Error: no options available

You sigh. You really need to do something about these errors. You nod,

“Sure. Let's go.”

…

The bakery was warm, and lively. As soon as you entered, the faintly sweet smell of pastries and the waft of coffee enveloped you two. You gawked at the mesmerising scenery, while Sunday asked for an available booth that's more hidden from the public eye.

The seats were soft, and pliable as you took your seat, still taking in the view of the bakery. You hear Sunday clearing his throat and tapping the table, your gaze shifting to him. He points to the menu. You understand his cue and take to reading it, your eyes scanning the plethora of options as Sunday does the same.

“Have you.. been here before?”

“I have visited once in the past. With my sister.”

“Ah, how is Robin?”

Your eyes settle on a particular option, as the silence between you two fills with comfortable conversation,

“She has been well. Are you looking forward to her performance at the coming Festival?”

You blink as you realise. How could you forget? The entire reason you and the rest of the crew even came to Penacony! This was the guy who was gonna put everyone into a coma!

“O-Oh, uh, yes! March has been talking non-stop about it, so..”

You chuckle awkwardly, flustered as he caught you a bit off guard. He hums, his face indifferent and neutral as your words process in his mind.

“I suppose I shall expect you in the audience, then?”

“March will drag me to the front, so you'll probably get a clear view of me in my uncomfortable glory.”

That seems to elicit a small, soft chuckle from him, as his eyes land on a specific item on the menu, seeming to have decided his own liking.

“Very well. I'll look forward to it.”

Soon enough, a waitress comes up to the table, and begins taking your orders.

–

“It does seem a tad scary, but the view is always beautiful in the Astral express.”

“I'm sure of it. It sounds wonderful.”

Sunday listens to you dutifully, as you continue talking. Somewhere along the way, your discomfort at the awkward silence between you two led to you talking and filling in the silence, your coffee cup hanging idly in your hands. One thing led to another, as both of you started talking about your childhood memories, tea flavours, desserts, and so on. You find Sunday has been easy to converse with. You'd been ignoring the constant buzzing of your phone – most likely achievements or quests that popped up constantly wherever you went.

You take another sip from your coffee as Sunday takes his initiative to talk, listening to him well, and chuckling slightly at one or the other thing. 

“I came to know tea is supposed to be made with hot water, but by then I'd gotten accustomed.”

You giggle, slightly in disbelief,

“Well, do you like iced tea now?”

Sunday shakes his head,

“I prefer coffee, more than that. Perhaps due to needing it more than a preference..”

His eyes trail to your cup, as you hold it in your hands. You follow his gaze,

Is something wrong? He'd been glancing at your cup a few times now, but you didn't comment on it before.

“Is.. something wro–”

Your words are cut off as your phone loudly rings, making you almost fumble and drop your coffee as you hurriedly take your phone.

It's March!

Crap, you forgot.

“Sorry, I uh..”

You scroll through the plethora of notifications, almost all of them missed calls and various texts.

“It seems your companions were searching for you.”

You look up, as Sunday looks into the distance, Stelle and March running towards you.

–

It was strange how things progressed since you came to Penacony.

Some of your equipment took ages to level up, the others taking barely anything before they hit their maximum level. Your friendship level progressed pretty highly on some days, and barely moved an inch on other days. 

Your friendship level with Sunday, on the other hand, shot up to a 5. Not even anyone on the Astral Express had that level.

You only noticed it a fraction before you cleared all your notifications at once, swiped away before your finger had the chance to tap on it. 

Regardless, that wasn’t your exact concern as of late. The story of Penacony had been well under way now, and things were starting to pick up. 

As of recent, you haven't been able to remember the quest contents as much as you used to, only remembering enough in the last moment to avert an extremely bad decision – at least for yourself. Your own personal missions left you alive by a hair's breadth.

But if that didn't upset you – your crew did. The pressure of everything happening on Penacony seemed to have started to weigh down on your team, as they barely regard you anymore. You could technically blame it on the system – it's been trying desperately to revive and fix itself as the game progresses. You might be interfering with the inner workings, so you suppose it's only natural the game tries to limit your interactions with the world.

So for the most part, you've resigned yourself to be an NPC; walking around all of the tourist attractions, getting who knows how many cups of coffee, trying on various clothing items, and occasionally running into Sunday. The first few times, you awkwardly fiddled with your phone for optional dialogues, but as time went on, you felt more comfortable. Regardless, it's not like anything you say can technically avert him from his current plan. It's been in the schemes for who knows how long? As of now, it's less complicating to remain ignorant and act unknowing, and enjoying another walk with him as he surveys the Dreamscape. Considering how close you two might be getting, you'll probably end up telling him a few secrets from your past.

-

“The Grand theatre is Penacony’s main attraction.”

Sunday’s face is illuminated by it in the distance, as he stands, staring at it. His voice is barely audible, seemingly as if he speaks to himself. But that idea is swept under the rug the moment he turns slightly to you.

When was this cutscene? You curse your memory, the fog of your mind still not cleared from when you first came to this world,

“Have you decided to attend?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to. Considering the story, you actually knew the event wasn’t going to happen. But in the case it did..

Options:

 □ “Ill be there first in line to enter.”

 □ “Im thinking about it.”

 □ “probably not..”

“..I have.”

You hesitantly answer.

“You haven’t made up your mind.”

Sunday states, more as a fact than a question. You can’t blame him, considering the hesitance apparent in your voice.

“..out of everyone, I’d hoped you would have attended.”

The options flicker and appear, but before you can press and respond, he continues,

“I understand. How has your family been?”

He turns to face you, you stay silent for a moment, before humming and clicking on an option,

 □ “They’re alright.”

□ “I hope they’re all okay.”

 □ “I wouldn’t really know..”

“Ah, uh.. we’re all kind of in our separate ways right now, so.. I wouldn’t really know.”

“I see.”

Both of you stand in silence, as you follow his gaze to the glowing theatre. After a moment, Sunday breaks his silence,

“When I was a child, I was particularly soft-spoken. Back then, Robin used to stand up for me frequently.”

Your ears perk up slightly. Is he talking about a childhood memory right now?

“One day, she wasn’t around, taking a few extra music lessons. The other kids were simply curious enough to take me in.”

You hum, listening to him intently. Your eyes gaze over his features – softly shaded by the cold light of the theatre, and illuminated by the yellow lights of the path.

“We were all kids. One of them pulled and broke my wing that day.”

You gasp, involuntarily. Ouch.

But sunday only chuckles at your reaction, his eyes downwards and distant. You don't think he finds it funny.

“But do you know? Right after that - they visited me. Day after day. Every step of recovery. Every recess when I had to sit back, they accompanied me. I thought about it recently. Humanity is worth saving.”

You stay silent, before smiling. The silence seems pleasant over you two, as you stare at the Grand Theatre in the distance.

“That, is when human spirit and strife first piqued my interest.”

You blink, and turn to look at him, the smile on your face faltering,

“What must the weak, the misfortunate, and the falsely accused do to gain balance within this world?”

You’re left speechless for a moment. It seems even the system cannot exactly provide you any dialogue options, as you glance over to your phone.

“..balance in the world isn’t achievable, which is why the human spirit strives to fix it.”

You stay silent, listening to him.

“Would a bird that cannot fly be allowed to, simply because it yearns to? Would it be righteous of you, or of the bird, to allow the freedom and death of the vast sky? Is it still righteous, if you withhold its freedom?”

He inhales, slowly, speaking in a low voice, wavering.

“Is death the only comprehensible freedom life offers, beside slumber, to the weak? Is that truly freedom?”

Sunday turns to look at you – his golden eyes almost searing into your soul.

You break out into a sweat, panicking as you check your phone, desperately trying to find an option when–

 System Error: options not available

Shit, shit, shit. Holy crap. Can you even speak right now?

You're left silently staring at Sunday. He stares back before resigning to quietly look away.

You should leave.

—

Your memory seems to be strangely affected – either because you haven't been able to adjust to the new world, or you just haven't been able to adapt to Penacony.

You groan and slump into the couch of your room, in the real world. You keep forgetting to charge your phone – which isn't technically a hassle; you can access the same menu options, it's just more.. time-consuming. Not to mention you lose your only source of dialogue option pop ups.

How long has this been going on? You knew Penacony had a vast and complicated storyline, but living it feels entirely different. Feeling it is entirely bizarre. No wonder your head's spinning.

But thankfully, it should end soon. Your last quest is to face off Sunday in his boss form. You and your members have decided to meet up at the Grand Theatre, where the event will take place.

You place your phone into charging, and right on cue, March pops up into your room. She stumbles around your room a bit the moment you turn your back, even hear her drop and accidentally knock over some items on her way, simply laughing at the girl, as you continue packing up and preparing for the final “showdown”. You disregard her words, when she tells you she felt something push her.

-

You're not sure when the next cutscene plays.

You're in the grand theatre; just having defeated Sunday, and collectively waiting to return to the Astral Express. This is when you meet Boothill and Black Swan, where she wakes you up using Misha as a fallacy within Ena's dream.

But you aren't waking up.

You've just been stranded in the empty grand theatre after the darkness lifted.

You try to turn your phone on – but its busted. March must have disconnected the plug when she stumbled across a few things.

You sigh, irritated and antsy, choosing to walk ahead and look warily at the mechanical statues. The quest description is empty; devoid of any explanation. The title is vague and doesn't indicate much. Are you stuck in the loading screen? What the hell is going on?

And just as you are about to shout out for help – Sunday appears. There he is, on the stage. But this time, there's no spotlight. He stares down at you, emptily. You're creeped out for the lack of a better word, feeling your skin crawl with every second he stares. The silence is paper thin and thickly dense at the same time; electrified with tension and the unknown.

He makes the first step, slowly descending down and towards you.

“You are an outsider.”

System error: cannot process dialogue

“You do not belong here.”

System error: cannot proceed further

“I do not belong here.”

System warning: further interaction in this context may lead to irreversible da–

Sunday's hand rips through the warning, causing it to glitch violently, and disappear. You're scared, your throat constricting and your heart almost lurching out of your chest as he continues walking towards you, eyes searing into your soul,

“We do not belong here.”

Beep!

 Options:

 □ We do not belong here

 □ I do not belong here

 □ You do not belong here

 □ We belong together

 ■ There is nothing else left for you here. You cannot turn back. There is no other option.

The screen glitches out, as Sunday stands before you, his hand reaching out,

“Tell me. What is your name?”

You can't access anything – the menu, the quests, your inventory, nothing. You stare almost endlessly in horror, as Sunday speaks of your real name.

You shouldn't have used it on that coffee cup.

-

[endlessdreamworld]

Hello, for the request, can I please have Natasha x afar reader alphabet: A, K, M, N, S, T, U?

Natasha X AFAB Reader - NSFW Alphabet

Minors DNI, 18+ post

Here are 7 user requested headcanons from the NSFW alphabet.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Natasha isn't one to sit still. Cuddles are far too short, and you'll only get a couple of kisses before you're getting a bottle of water presented to you. No, you can't refuse, and no she won't go back to bed. Natasha is someone who'd like to shower with an AFAB reader, since it's important to clean up after the act. It also gives the opportunity for more sparks to fly!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) She's got a bit of a somnophilia kink. There's something intoxicating about observing someone sleeping so peacefully and trying to see what she can get away with.

But her much bigger and more obvious kink is toys. She's got quite the collection, and isn't afraid of using it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Natasha is greatly motivated by gratitude. Nothing motivates her more than having you thank them for every single thing she does to you. The whinier you behave, the better.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Things that correlate with her job, or your punishments would be off limits. For example, blood play and physical sadism are something that would turn her off. She isn't happy when her patients are hurting, so sexual sadism could never work. That being said, she'd be more than willing to play the role of masochist for a sadistic darling.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) The good thing about being an AFAB reader is the fact that there's no refractory period involved! So, there's no such thing as 'rounds' here. It's one long marathon, and good god is it long.

You know, being offered water that you can't refuse is honestly a mercy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Natasha owns more toys than you can imagine. She probably wouldn't bring up the idea herself the first few times you become intimate. If you bring it up then the flood gates have been *opened*.

After a bit though, if you haven't brought up the idea of bringing in some toys, then she'll bring it up. If you aren't interested in toys? Well you're going to learn to like them.

She likes using them, and having them be used on her. Isn't life just more fun with toys?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Natasha isn't much of a teaser. She'll tease a little bit, but she always give in way too much. After all, she wants you to thank her and if she's busy teasing you then you're too focused on what's not happening instead of thanking her for what is happening. Thank you for your request!

[yandere-romanticaa]

One thing that came to mind is that Yandere! Boothill, despite having the body of a robot, adores it when you touch him, especially his oh so human face.

I like to imagine that he's always holding you in some way - be it your hand, waist, the lower part of your back, heck, if you try getting away from him he might just even hook his leg around your own, making you fall right on your face in the process.

"It's your fault for trying to run!" he'd say, his tone cheerful and merry.

But you quickly learn that the best way to get through to him is if you touch him back.

Caress his face, play with his hair. Watch him melt in the palm of your hand. It's as if Cupid himself had shot him straight in the ass, there really is nothing quite like it.

The spell will break quickly the moment you stop touching him though.

He gets so grumpy as he quickly takes your hands and brings them back to his face. Boothill likes to tickle the skin of your wrist with his nose, as the ever so delicate pulse point brings him an unfathomable amount of joy. If you're lucky, he'll fall asleep, which will be somewhat helpful in escaping him (provided that he isn't hooked around you like a koala bear. That's its own separate issue.) and the moment the coast is clear, run like there's a rocket up your ass. Don't look back, don't check for anything, just. Don't.

Congratulations, the taste of freedom has never felt better.

He'll find you soon, don't you worry about that.

[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #03. CORPSE BRIDE

𐙚 topic。．when you turn down yandere hsr men’s proposals.

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。general yandere themes, suggestive content, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and boothill. sunday and aven are regular additions to my posts lol, wrote boothills less intense bc he’s too silly to imagine

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ ‘convinces’ you

。he will actually try to coax you into it. he doesn’t want to just force things onto you, that isn’t really what he wants 。“ill make you the happiest pretty bride, doll, just believe in me, hm?” 。continues to sweet talk you, telling you what he can do- buy you pretty dresses, give you anything you want, and he lists luxury after luxury. 。and he follows through his promises. even if you are being really disobedient, he’d still buy you more luxury than you could ever ask for. you will start questioning if you really don’t want this marriage- which is exactly what he wants you to do, to make you doubt yourself. 。his list goes on and on- a vip ticket to the Reverie, first row tickets to robin’s concerts, only the finest things that only his class of people could ever get their hands on. 。but in that list, he conveniently puts out ‘freedom.’ 。if you disagree, he’d pout, asking you why- and when you tell him you want to be free from him, he’d laugh, calling you a silly girl. 。“i already gave you a choice when we met. it was your choice to pick a card from an unknown pile.” 。he’d have the wedding commence in some really luxurious property of the ipc, and he will, invite your family over- he’s merciful. but is it mercy when you know you won’t see them ever again? 。“it would be a shame if they don’t see the happiest moment of your life.”

STANDING there with the most beautiful dress you could humanly ask for, your expression is nothing but a shell as Aventurine smiles at you through those shades. Your eyes are everywhere but on his eyes, when you stare at them, you feel like you’re losing yourself.

you are glad your gown came with a veil over your head, nobody can see your dead eyes, except him.

As the officiant goes on with the questions, you grip your bouquet a little harder to the point you feel their stems crumple, just like your shriveling heart.

You snap out of it after hearing silence- you see his expecting eyes on you and you nod blankly. “I do.”

And your husband smiles even wider, and he steps closer and slowly, while staring at you with uncomfortable adoration through those tantalizing purple eyes, he kisses you. You are expecting a tender kiss in a ceremony; but his gloved hand sneaks onto the back of your head, pulling you in hastily.

“I love you so fucking much, princess—” he breathes into you, brushing aside the saliva that trickles down your chin after his intrusion. “It took quite a while, but you’re finally all mine.” He pulls up your hand that has your forced vow on it, he chuckles and softly kisses your fingers.

“‘m gonna make you so happy, so ecstatic, that you’re gonna thank me for it, love. you will thank me that I restrained you from everything else.” he whispers, and the people clap, cheering; your family too, who smiles, knowing nothing that it would be your last reunion.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ breaks you

。he just takes it on another level (and does not find your struggles entertaining unlike the former) 。he will be, really heartbroken at first. the head of the oak family asking you to be his lifelong sweetheart is almost like him giving you his life. you are his entire world- and the world has rejected him. 。“…I see. was I not good enough for you, angel?” 。although his emotions will be very hard to control, he’s very used to commencing plans. he’d tell you that he could ‘talk this out’ with you. unfortunately, it’s not a choice, but rather, an order. 。sunday is a ‘the end justifies the means’ kind of person. he will do any means to make you eventually accept your fate. that will include imprisoning you in some faraway place and leaving you abandoned for so long, you will be broken, wishing for any interaction. food is only given to you through a remote device, with no human interaction. 。sunday itches to be with you- he is compassionate for you, his heart will ache to see you sob into an endless cacophony. a part of him will be tempted to go to you and be with you physically, not watching you from a screen. 。he will repeat it- he will visit once a blue moon, comforting you, asking you if you changed your mind. when you ask him when he’d release you, his expression will harden. 。“it seems you haven’t learned anything, sweetheart.” 。if you are still stubborn, he will be a little impatient. he will speed up the process by adding new things in- maybe making you dream of a lovely, free life and when you wake up, you’re just alone. he will not resort to anything violent, he cares too much about you to hurt you. although, ‘hurt’ in his dictionary doesn’t apply to mentally hurting you. 。you will sob and show your most dramatic, fragile sides to a descent of madness, thinking you are truly alone until sunday comes to visit. you are wrong, though- sunday has always been with you, just not physically. 。he has always been watching you cry into the void through a screen. always.

MAYBE you have finally lost your mind, because when Sunday comes to visit you and your dull prison, you collapse to your knees and immediately plead him.

“Please,” you sob, clutching his legs desperately- he doesn’t crouch, but looks down- almost like a god addressing its follower. Sunday is no god for you, but you beg like he is.

“Please what?” He looks at you, fingers brushing over your hands, tilting his head just the slightest. His golden eyes glitter in the dim light. He is waiting for only one answer, there is only one correct answer to his question.

But you do not give him the right one. “Please just let me go,” you break down. Your heart is throbbing from all the crying, vision blurry and your head is light with no energy to talk anymore.

His gentle, serene smile immediately warps into that of a cold one. “Try again?” His fingers grip your hands hard, warning you that his patience is running thin.

When you remain silent except for your sobs, he crouches down to stare at you on eye-level, boring holes into your fearful expression. Unlike his deadly gaze, his words are soft and flow out quickly like a river- albeit with a sigh of exasperation. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to stop this just because you beg.” His hand pushes yours against the floor to knock you down, figure towering over you as he leans in to whisper- “—although, they’re very pleasant to listen to.”

“Honestly, I don’t get why you are struggling right now. It’s so easier to accept your eventual fate. Unless, you do like to seek pain.”

His other hand goes over your stomach, then slides tantalizingly slow up your body- you shiver and tremble at each touch that is too foreign to you. Cold fingers cage your neck and you choke on your breath.

“I’m not planning on hurting you, angel.” His voice is still gentle, but his eyes are telling another story, they seem keen to hurt you again and again. “But I did say I’ll resort to other… methods. Since none of them seem to work, I suppose the only solution would be caging you with a baby.” When your eyes widen, he laughs dryly. “The look on your face tells me that you didn’t expect it. But you will be my loving wife, dear. You will not be able to run or reject me, not when your own child is at stake. It makes only more sense to… make you bear children. My children.”

As he watches you struggle under him, trying to breathe, he feels like he has entered ascension. Soon, one of your pretty fingers will have his ring, and very very soon, he will have his first child- the very thought of him makes him lose his mind. He so wishes to make you his, claim you inside, watch your pretty pussy gush out his cum while he’s pressing deep into your womb- but he also wishes to see a mini version of him, or you. He finds it too adorable to withstand. He will vow that his children will grow up pure and innocent.

“We will be the happiest family in the world,” he purrs. “And I’ll make sure of it.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིOOTHILL ⇢ will try to prove himself

。maybe a little similar to aven. but while the latter will materialistically give you things and spoil you around to convince you, boothill will more likely show himself off instead. 。“i can fudgin’ shoot an ipc lackey in the head from miles away, sugar- ya can’t see that ‘n any other guy.” 。he’ll try to show you his capability to protect you- which will likely end up in multiple people dying but as a galaxy ranger, he has morals, so he will probably use the ipc as his shooting dummies 。overall he’s sweet even if you reject his proposal- he will likely be furious, just not at you. 。oh lord but during the day you rejected him, be prepared for multiple news flashes of dead people across the street. the amount of emotion will be too much for his consciousness to restrain 。when you confront him, he’d apologize, albeit a little too nonchalant. 。“‘m sorry sweetie, got a lil outta hand last night.” 。per your wish, he won’t kill anyone who’s unrelated and innocent- but he’d still go on a killing spree in the ipc headquarters to the point you are blacklisted on their list because he would shout your name and rant why you didn’t accept him while he shoots his gun all around the place.

“BOOTHILL, what the hell are you doing?” You frown when he returns- even after rejecting his proposal, he drifts around you like a lost stray dog. And he is always covered in blood, looking furious- but when you talk, his expression simply melts away like butter to a grin that shows his sharp teeth.

“What do ya mean what I’m doin’? Makin’ sure nobody hurts you.” He snickers. He smells like metal, like he always does, but this time it’s overpowering, which lets you know what he’s been doing.

“I don’t need protection, Boothill. You can just leave me alone.”

You’re beyond annoyed at his clinginess. No matter how many times you reject him, he’d always come back, showing something new off to you, and half the time it wasn’t anything pleasant, but rather his list of crimes.

“Aww, don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He chuckles and flashes a grin and his other metal hand spontaneously pulls you into his embrace— you jump. When did his hand get there? “All I wanna do is to make sure my future wife is safe and sound. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“I told you, I’m not going to accept-“

“Ah ah! Wait and see, you will be, I promise. But don’t drag the chase a lil too long. Even I get impatient.” Something cold pressed against your forehead and you realize it’s his gun. When your expression turns aghast with fear, he barks an amused laugh.

“You scared of this? Nah, I’d never hurt ya. Won’t wanna turn your body into metal like mine.” Although he says this with a dark smirk, he doesn’t remove the gun. “The sooner you agree to it, the merciful I become. Ya don’t wanna see innocent guys die because of your stupidity, hm?”

[euhla]

𝑻𝐖𝐎 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐑𝐄 ☆ sunday

⋆. ✷ 🪽 spoiler for trailblaze mission, possessive & obsessive behavior and thoughts, mental abuse, gaslighting, slight yandere, stockholm syndrom ??, heavily implied ill! reader, angst w comfort, major character death, an attempt for sunday character study (spoiler; i failed). this fics is heavily inspired/referenced by that one comment from chasing kou at yt

a/n : i write this when it’s raining outside with my calm playlist n it’s the best feeling ever! ^ 0 ^ this is kinda rushed btw

and the moment a firework bursts and lights up, like an exalted flower standing in the middle of a sea of people, his cerulean blue hair is a contrast to the dark starry night.

you try to hold his hand, trying to found your way to slip underneath his gloves, and embracing it. you flinch at first, because his hands are cold like a living corpse.

“your hands are cold,” you said as you look at him in the eyes. and you can’t help but feel small whenever you two lock gaze.

“it’ll get warmer.”

“how do you know?”

he smiled, “because you hold it now.”

inside of the spacious universe under the moonlight, as the people in the background shouted happiness the moment the dark starry night were now filled with fireworks and lights of joy. you found another reason to live, again.

the distorted reflection of light that you see when you jump into water, as you two slowly count how long you can hold your breath un, deux, trois … and when you both gasping for air, feeling the breeze pierces straight.

now his hands— finding their way to hold yours. a solace intertwined for a moment as he speaks, “this is a foolish thing to do.”

no one— not even the wandering lost souls —expected the professional and well-behaved man to do the childish thing like this out of all place. mr sunday? the head of the oak family? jumped into water like a child? no one’s gonna believe you if they don’t see it themselves.

you laugh it off. “but sunday, you enjoy it.”

“of course, my dear. it’s because i do this with you.”

again, his smooth talking that he has trained since kid pissed you off sometimes. but again, maybe this is the only way to search for comfort within the cruel fate.

the sound of trees swaying in the wind is calming, you think. the sound of trees swaying in the wind is calming, you think. and suddenly life is worth living again when you finally lean against a big tree, blocking the raindrops with other than hanging on to thick leaves.

ready to face another shallow dream, you started to shut your eyes, expecting another endless void to enter your mind. but a hand— almost feels like a salvation—reaches you first, preventing you to fall into another abyss.

you gasped in response. “sunday..?”

“in your current condition, you should’ve know that you should stay inside the mansion, right?”

sunday removing his luxury white coat, then placing it on you.

“i—“ but you can’t say anything. trapped inside a fragile body means that any words that spilled out are just another excuse. “—i’m sorry.”

sunday exhaled. “i’m sorry i sound a bit harsh earlier, but i suppose you already know that i’m doing all of this for your safety, right?”

you smiled in response. “.. of course. always for my safety.”

the feeling of your hair blowing in the wind and your vision becoming narrower as the sound of laugh filling the air, ignoring completely the gloomy dark sky and the smell of rain and wet ground, make you feel like you finally regain your freedom once again. or when you're running when it’s only the silence after rain that’s linger around.

you know that you shouldn’t do this, and you know it better than no one else. but you can’t just leave your childhood urges when you already grow into adulthood. it keeps telling you go, as far as you can and don’t look back.

but something chained you down. it trapped you with nothing but sweet whispers; giving you a safe place to live, but treated like a porcelain doll who can’t do anything by themselves.

and it keeps whispering to you; “i’ll make you a beautiful flower in my the garden. blooming beautifully that other flowers are jealous of you.”

but it never told you that inside the garden, the flower bloom under humiliating watch. that it makes the flower feels like they’re a monstrous flower that bloomed too soon.

“so this is how running under the rain feels like!” you shouted, knowing that no one would hear you.

and not far away, under an absolute command, a bird is watching you with a rage.

The sound of the wind blowing in your ears or the sound of your breath is the last thing you enjoy before facing the consequences.

you can tell that his rage is uncontrollable even when he still keeps his charming calm face. and your heart keeps beating faster, you can tell.

“sunday, i’m sorry i– i just want to get some fresh air and i– idontknowthat it’s going to be raining.” your words spilled out in an irregular rhythm.

“and you don’t straight come back to the mansion?” he massaged his temples. and this is the first time you see him stressed out.

“because i just want to know how it feels to running under the rain again..”

“of course you just want to feel what you want to feel, my dear. and you will never want to know what i feel— stressed out when i know that you’re not inside the mansion. do you really want to escape that much? just because i prohibited you to go out of the mansion?”

guilty, you feel guilty now.

“all of my actions and orders are right, okay? because i’m doing this for you and your safety. if i didn’t save you that day, you wouldn’t have feel your own happiness.”

you smile and nodded.

because sunday is always doing the right things to do.

the sound of your heart when you fell in love is something you never knew are going to feel. you always wonder what is love anyway? does it feel like when you’re running under the rain? or watching a firework bursts and light up in the air?

your heart still hesitant to think that this is all called love; the way sunday would delicately touch you as if you can break, the way sunday would make sure that you’re safe on his mansion ( he said that it’s the only way to make sure you’re safe, so you can’t go anywhere without his company ), or the way he whispers sweet words that always make you flustered.

or maybe this is the love that people always talked about? he’s sincere about his feelings anyway. everything he do is always for the right things.

so you lean in his touch. you surrender, and you fall into his warm embrace. his wings twitched a few times, and he hesitantly try to cover his face with it, but you noticed it.

you noticed how he always ended up embarrassed and flustered everytime you return his affection. but you always caress his cheek, as if saying that it’s okay.

“please just trust me, okay?” he whispered.

…oh, and the feeling of being fulfilled when you hugged the person you love for the last time. because that’s finally the time that the bird realized that he’s the one who’s on a cage.

an outstretched hand faintly looked like a salvation for him when he’s falling into the abyss ( and that’s when he finally realized that no one is going to save him ). it must be ena’s hand, he thinks. but when he blinked again, he realized— it’s you.

and when he thought that you’re already gone, becoming one with the rain droplets you loved, you came back to him.

a hand reaches him and pulls him into a tight hug. he’s not surprised, or that’s what he thinks. because it will be the last hug you’ll give him.

he closed his eyes. now that he realized that he should let you go, and it’s time to wake up from this long dream. just like your last words to keep moving forward.

“.. i’m sorry.” a faint voice whispered.