Yandere Honkai Star Rail - Blog Posts

＃𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙇𝙇𝘼𝙍𝙊𝙉 𝙃𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎 ⠿ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 HEADCANON

✶ ! [ 578 words ]

✶ ! [ CW: dark content, yandere themed, unhealthy obsession, overprotectiveness, stalking, potential ooc, written by non-fluent english speaker. ]

✶ ! [ Uniquant's Note: This abomination has been sitting in the basement for a month... I'm quite cringed at how messy the original hcs was, so it took me fairly a long time to make it acceptable (to me at least). Anyway, I hope u enjoy my monstrosity ♡ ]

✦ Request Status: Open

✦【 Type: Overprotective, devoted 】

: Let's start with how or what the weapon itself sees in you, shall we? Well, just like any other weapon, he himself needs a master in order to have any purpose in existing. And in this case, the master of this particular weapon is you.

: Weapon and master bond are quite complicated to break. The master needs their weapon to protect themselves and the weapon needs the master to have use of them thus care for them.

: When someone threatens its bond, it's either up to you, the master who should command your Blade to rid of such interloper or he'll purge the foul soul himself till they depart unto the afterlife. Oh also, he's a unique weapon. Under certain circumstances, he would moves on his own to protect his master. How marvelous is that?

: Now let's move to how he behaves. He follows you everywhere. To the highest mountain peaks of the Divine Ship, to the bottomless pit of lies built upon the Dreamscape, he is right there, guarding your back from any potential misfortune charging in your way.

: He thinks he is not quite worthy of your attention yet he won't let others bask in it either. Such an abomination like himself shouldn't even breathe the same air as you, yet he appears unwilling to leave your side anytime soon due to his obstinacy and selfishness. He convinced himself that he is doing all of this as an effort to keep the mortal wounds which scarred his past self away from you.

: The only moment when he stands the same step as you is when he deems someone 'dangerous' approaching you. Even if you inform him that the said someone is harmless, at least to you. All he would do is back up and glare daggers at them as his sword long unsheathed ready to dig into the interrupter's neck if they dare to even flash any form of hostility toward you.

: Should he act like a sword, then, should he too sacrifice his flesh to protect you. He'd scathe himself only when it's needed of course. He does not want you to worry your hearts out because he was too careless in his previous battle. He might hurt himself a bit more so your attention lingers awhile on him or his wounds. Will stop if you scowl him for it. But alas, he tends to forget things, including your scoldings.

: Once in a while, he is befuddled by how fast his entire world changed. Was his encounter with you part of Elio's script? But at the same time it doesn't make any sense to him, since Elio has always been open about how any part of the script would go. Was The Equilibrium finally witness his suffering and opted to to alleviate his agony by directing his life changing-encounter with you?

: Either way, those thoughts swiftly vanish as he remembered that nothing really matters as long as he is still by your side.

: As a mere weapon, he shouldn't act this way. Yet here he is. YOU tampered with his broken self and infected it with deuced mortal desire. Since he is yours now, shouldn't you take care of him as a good master?

: He is a bit stubborn and rash sometimes. But it's all for the sake of your safety. So, please forgive him and his wrongdoings, if you see it fit, do punish him. For he believes that you could do nothing wrong.

⋯ Copyright © 2024 by Illustrious-ia. Do not plagiarize, use for AI / Bot training, and re-upload outside of Tumblr.

All rights reserved.

Very well written 🫶

IMAGINE AVENTURINE WHO... (cw: kakegurui au, obsessive gambling, life and death situation/predicament, aventurine's obsessed, unhealthy power dynamic/s between both sides, possessiveness, yandere behavior)

... is well known in Penacony as one of the elite gamblers. AVENTURINE doesn't take a simple bet and runs with it, but makes it clear that if you ever play a game against him, he'll take it up to 10 notches.

... is called the 'compulsive gambler of Penacony', where students shiver at the mention of his name. Often, whoever gambles with him is met with a terrible end, citing that being near him is akin to a death wish with how possessed he acts.

... only desires a challenge. He dislikes gambling for the sake of money or power— he has enough and wants to spend it all until the day he dies. All he wants is the thrill, the one that would push him to the edge, constantly seeking for more.

... is an adrenaline junkie and makes those who goes against him rot in debt, becoming housepets in his journey of finding the one, but he had no luck. A shame, as he's a skilled gambler with many tricks and lady luck constantly gazing on his shoulder— until he met you.

... found you intriguing when you played a game of Craps, and although the stakes were rigged and against you, a newbie, you swept the floor with them and exposed them for their crimes. AVENTURINE found it more amusing when you stated, plain as day, "Those house pets of yours are going to need their lives back when they realize it's been rigged from day one."

... asked the other elites and even the president himself, SUNDAY, if he's ever heard of you. To his surprise, it was like no one has, and SUNDAY comments that AVENTURINE may be up to someone that doesn't exist anywhere. Not in the records, outside, or even the entirety of the country.

... began to become the regular of your regulars; who saw you in your games with others. He saw you win on them, exposing how they have seamlessly won those games despite it being against your favor, and turning it on their heads.

..., after studying your behavior and mannerisms, approached you for a little gamble. It isn't much, as all he wants is simply see what makes you tick.

... leads you into his office and you both take your seats, two sets of cards set in front of you. He even told you that the game you two will be playing is Blackjack— a staple of Penacony, he jokes, but you two know it's a lie.

... tells you that if you win, he'll let you in to the Elites and convince SUNDAY to stop pursuing your missing records. Everyone has been itching to get you to fall from grace, and he isn't letting them get their grimy hands onto your pretty face. Not if he has a say in it. However...

... tells you that if he wins, he'll have you as his personal housepet: a trophy to signify that you have fallen for a man that's feared by many.

... watches with a smile as the cards were taken from both sides, eagerly awaiting for the final verdict between you.

... knew it was only one round. Who knew he only has one chance to finally claim what is his.

... chuckles when he sees the results, his eyes gleaming with the sense of pride— to his loss or yours, no one shall ever know.

@.yxstxrdrxxm | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

I think my ask failed to send so I’ll do this again, btw love your writing.

Magician Reader who’s interested in Aventurine because they think his grand bets are magic tricks! (Plus other things like the coin trick he did with the trailblazer, him being a gambler so he is always by play cards, the way he smiles like he is ready to perform, etc)

Aventurine definitely started to believe in magic as soon as he saw the reader, maybe they were working their magic on him.

Eventually Aventurine convinces the reader to let him be their magic assistant and perform on stage with them. Concocting a trick of his own. During the final act of the magic show, Aventurine does an impromptu trick and makes the both of them disappear. Claiming the reader as his.

I think that the he uses the reader’s magic props against them, bounds them with their handcuffs, threatens them with swords, maybe even threatening their pet rabbit or dove. Whatever you’re comfortable with writing.

Hope this sends this time and I hope you have a great day!

(Thank you so much! I’m so glad you like my writing!

I had a little bit of difficulty with this request, your idea was already so perfect, I felt like I didn’t have much to add to it ;; but hopefully this is something like what you were looking for? I hope you like this and that you have a great day too!)

Warnings: 18+ for suggestive comments/situations, forced relationships, and empty threats of violence, this one is on the tamer side compared to my other writing, also I tried so hard but I don't know much about magic tricks, Lyney save me

Aventurine takes a bow and then presents you with a red rose, smirking at you seductively as he offers it to you. He’s sure you must have cast a spell on him with how smitten he is with you.

“Will you allow me to be your magic assistant, dearest magician~?” He asks you with a teasing tone to his voice, gently taking your hand and placing a kiss on it.

Your usual assistant had just called in sick, and you were desperate. It’s not that you trusted Aventurine or his tactics, but… What would be the harm in letting him do a few tricks with you during your performance? “Alright,” You agree, taking the rose from his hands politely, “But don’t try anything funny, okay?”

He puts his hand on your shoulder in a fashion too intimate for your comfort, “Wouldn’t dream of it~” He says with a smirk, and then he’s pulling out a bouquet from behind you, as if it materialized from thin air.

He presents the bouquet to you as well.

“You know, it’s not as interesting when you repeat the same trick twice.”

“Yes, but I know you already gave the rose to your little rabbit companion. I just figured that meant you’d prefer a bouquet~”

You look at him in shock that he recognized that so quickly, when all you did was tuck the rose in your hat when he wasn’t looking. He was too observant of your tricks. Damn him.

You take your hat off and pull your pet rabbit out of it, softly petting him as he holds the rose in his little mouth. “Yeah, but he looks pretty cute like this…”

Aventurine huffs, obviously jealous of your rabbit. “And I don’t?” He questions, crossing his arms.

“Oh calm down, you’ll get your credits once the show is over, now come on!” You grab him by the hand and pull him backstage.

Ah… You thought he was doing this for money? No, he genuinely wanted to help and be closer to you. He didn’t care about the credits at all. Was that really so hard to believe? He was a little offended. Yes, his time was worth a lot, but time spent with you was priceless.

You quickly go over the show and routine with him, obviously in a rush, seeing as it’s starting soon. You tell him about tricks like pulling your rabbit out of your hat, a few card tricks, and the sawing in half act, which you would be doing to him apparently. But that isn’t the one that caught his interest. The part that caught his interest and what he was anticipating the most was the disappearing act. He can’t hold back his smirk as ideas begin forming in his head.

Most of the show goes on without any problems, and he’s in complete awe every time you pull off a trick successfully. He’s so happy to be your assistant, and to your surprise, he’s a quick learner. The audience claps even louder as he takes a bow, and then much to your discomfort, he presents you with yet another rose on stage with a wink.

Okay, so maybe you should have told him that flirting in front of the audience was off limits.

He politely opens the door to the disappearing act for you, waiting for you to step inside. But before you can shut it behind yourself, he turns to the audience and announces something.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this disappearing act is a couple’s disappearing act, and must be performed with two people.” With those words, he climbs in along with you, “In an act of true love, we will kiss each other, and then disappear before your very eyes!” Then he climbs in with you and plants his lips against yours. Someone else, an IPC worker probably, runs up and takes care of the act on the outside, shutting the door as the audience claps wildly and whistles at the sight of him kissing you, rose petals raining down all over the stage as white doves are released.

“What are you doing?!” You shout, pulling away and wiping off the kiss, and he quickly clamps a hand over your mouth so no one can hear you shouting.

“Shhh…” He says softly, gently petting your hair in a comforting gesture. And then to your horror, you feel something cold clamp around your wrists. You look down and see your very own cuffs, effectively chaining your hands together and preventing any sort of movement from you.

And then he’s pulling you through the secret path in the back of the box, and with his hand over your mouth you can’t scream out for help. He pulls you along with him through the corridor, and you’re fighting him the entire way. All Aventurine does is chuckle at you squirming against him.

“Don’t worry, your show is taken care of.” He says, as if you’re just throwing a tantrum about him ‘ruining your magic show.’ “I made sure that they would-” “That’s not what I’m upset about and you know it.” You’re glaring daggers at him. “I rejected you already, Aventurine! I only accepted your help because I had no one else, and I thought what you wanted was payment.” And oh, do your words sting. 

“Oh, I do want payment. Just not the type of payment you’re thinking of, sweetheart~” He grabs you harshly and is crashing his lips against yours again in order to shut you up. He kisses you fiercely, his lips and tongue moving against yours, putting every ounce of passion into the kiss that he can. Like he’s trying to prove something to you.

And then you feel it. The feeling of a cool, metallic blade pressing against your neck. “Don’t move,” He tells you simply once he pulls away, and you have no choice but to comply with his wishes.

“Now, I want you to walk very carefully in the direction I instruct you to.” His smile is so sweet, but underneath lurks a malicious predator just waiting to strike. He’s like a shark circling the waters.

“Where are you taking me?” The blade presses further into your neck at the question as you walk with him, but not enough to draw blood. Just enough to keep you compliant. He would never actually harm you.

“We’re going home, my little magician~” His smile doesn’t falter as he says the words, even as you cry and kick and scream and beg for him to let you go, the blade still pressed to your throat. No matter how hard you fight him, he won’t ever let go of you.

“Two lovers, disappearing into the night together, never to be seen again~ Isn’t that the greatest magic trick of all~?”

His character in this fanfic is so well done 🫶

*Reen casually slides through your asks*

May I ask how will he feels or react towards his darling who's so clearly fall over heels for him? Like she doesn't even know what's lurking behind his playful mask yet she keeps showering him with her love and attention,

"Sometimes I wonder why you'd want to go out with me in the first place. You're so charming and fun to he around, I must be dreaming!"

"I found this fox keychain while strolling around and it reminds me of you! Come to think of it, have you ever actually seen a yellow fox anywhere?"

"You look so tired today, what happened? Let me make you some warm tea real quick!"

Will he unknowingly became more possessive each time passed or will he remains as calm as before? Anyways no pressure to reply and I hope you're having a great day everyday!

Am to totally not projecting myself here

(Ahhh! Thank you so much for being my first ask! I love your prompt so much, this is absolutely amazing! I hope you like this, and have a great day every day too!)

Aventurine never expected you to fall in love with him or reciprocate any of his advances in any way. He’s so used to people not liking him, or barely even tolerating him, that every bit of affection you offer him comes as a total shock and surprise. He thinks you’re so sweet and perfect in every way, and while it’s completely like you to be kind even to those who don’t deserve it, he never expected that he’d ever be the one on the receiving end of that kindness and affection. He can’t control the warmth that spreads through his chest every time you say something sweet, or smile at him, or even just the fact that you seem so willing to be around him. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced in his life before, and he can’t get enough. He wants more and more.

"Sometimes I wonder why you'd want to go out with me in the first place. You're so charming and fun to he around, I must be dreaming!"

When you say those words, it hits him like a bolt of lightning. You’re wondering why he’d want to go out with you? Shouldn’t he be the one saying these words? Everything about you is complete perfection, he’s obsessed with everything about you and can’t get enough of you and your light. You’re the only warmth and sunshine he’s ever experienced in his life. When he was young, he often wondered what the warmth of the sun truly felt like, to be able to feel it caress his skin and to feel truly safe. Now that he’s with you, he knows the answer to that question with all his heart. Every time you touch him, when you hold his hand or gently run your hand across his cheek, he can feel sparks flying under your touch. He’s always been very touch starved and so even just accidentally brushing against you causes the same reaction in him. He laughs softly as he pulls you into a tight embrace, the sound of his voice very light and airy, but there’s also a gentle tone to it- one you aren’t very used to hearing from him yet.

“Every day is a dream come true with you,” He pauses for a second, trying to find the words, “I love you more than life itself, and I’d do anything and everything to keep you by my side. You’re the best person I’ve ever met in my life, and I can’t imagine my life without you.” He feels that it’s more important to reassure you in this moment than come up with a witty, teasing one liner like he usually might. He wants you to know how much he loves you and truly values you.

Of course he’d want to be with you, every day, for all of eternity and beyond.

"I found this fox keychain while strolling around and it reminds me of you! Come to think of it, have you ever actually seen a yellow fox anywhere?"

“Ahaha, it reminds you of me, does it~?” He can’t help the flirty and playful edge to his voice as he speaks, but he also can’t deny that he has a slight blush on his face that you were thinking of him so fondly, “Aww, that’s quite adorable… Because you know what,” He pulls out a wrapped gift and presents it to you. You quickly open it and inside you find a rabbit plush, one with the same color eyes as yours and a ribbon in your favorite color around its neck, “I was thinking this cute little bunny reminds me of you! What do you think?” He winks at you in an extremely flirtatious manner, and you find yourself blushing as well. The warmth and softness between the two of you in interactions like these is unparalleled.

"You look so tired today, what happened? Let me make you some warm tea real quick!"

He sits down on the couch next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug without a word, it seems he had an extremely hard and stressful day at work. But you- you always make him feel so much better. All of the stress and pain disappears when he’s holding you, when he gets to be with you like this. You’re his anchor and his rock and the pillow that he likes to lay his head on after a long day. You open your mouth to say something, to insist you’ll go get him that tea, but he simply shushes you and pulls you in closer, arms wrapped so tightly around you that you can’t escape from his grasp.

“Please… Just let me hold you for a bit…”

Undoubtedly, every time you show him these little bits of affection, he becomes more and more in love and obsessed with you. He wants to keep you all to himself, he wants to hoard your light and warmth, and every day he’s constantly fighting against the urge and thoughts of locking you away, just for himself, forever.

But when he sees the way you look at the sky, or the sunset, or the stars at night… And he remembers how he too once looked so wistfully toward it, he can’t bring himself to do it. He wants to keep you this happy forever. 

And when you’re being so willing and compliant for him, who is he to rip your little bit of freedom away? You’re already in his grasp, forever, and he’s never going to let you go no matter what. You’re the little bunny to his fox, and he just wants to melt into your embrace every day for the rest of his life.

He loves you, and nothing will ever come between the two of you. Not even fate itself.

Ad Experimentum

Yandere Dr. Ratio x Reader

Veritas catches you reading one of your dirty books.

Warnings: Implied kidnapping, forced imprisonment, NSFW scenes being read aloud, Dr. Ratio being a dick as always

Within the confines of Veritas’s home, you feel like a mouse in a maze, reduced to a caged animal, always under scrutiny and experimentation.

Escape is impossible. Dr. Ratio has ensured that you’re never out of his reach, even though he acts as if you are the burden and he didn’t kidnap you and imprison you in his home. Sometimes you wonder why he even keeps you; surely he has better things to do than to quip at your inadequacy or lack of genius. But alas, the pretentious prick seems keen on pushing every one of your buttons to see how you tick. You might even call it intimacy if he wasn’t so clinical and judgmental about it all.

Because physical escape is impossible, you’ve turned to escaping within the confines of your own mind.

Books provided the perfect retreat. You’ve since abandoned any non-fiction to focus on fantasy, to worlds that effortlessly whisk you away. Novels that depict true, romantic love, not the twisted ownership you’ve grown used to. Like you’re some pet to be controlled and prodded at, like Pavlov’s dog, waiting and drooling for its master’s hand at the ring of a bell.

So, in your hopes to feel something real, you’ve started to delve into stories that are a bit…spicier.

With the latest read in your hand, your eyes skim hungrily over the pages as the tension between the protagonists builds. The lovers begin to undress each other, the one spreading his partner’s pussy as she grinds into his hand—

Veritas effortlessly plucks the book from your hands, earning a cry of protest. You try to snatch it back, but, with the help of his towering height, he dangles it just out of reach. “What in the heavens is this?”

The way he holds the book between his thumb and pointer finger, as if merely touching it would taint his self-proclaimed perfect set of knowledge, was almost comedic. You would laugh if he wasn’t such a condescending asshole.

Instead, you scowl. “Give it back.”

He merely hums and turns the novel in his hands, inspecting the cover. Licking his thumb, he flips to your bookmarked page and begins reading aloud. “My hand caressed her core as I speared her with two, thick fingers. She moaned and arched into my palm in response, causing my cock to twitch in anticipation. God, I wanted to taste her arousal. Her pussy was perfect, so wet and tight and ready for me to claim, to fuck.”

Embarrassment rages across your cheeks like a burn. You fling yourself at him, pounding your fists against his chest when he lifts the book out of your reach easily. “Stop, just stop.”

Amused, Dr. Ratio continues to narrate the scene in painstaking detail. “I lowered my head, letting my tongue swirl around her clit and rendering her voice to nothing but pitiful mewls. She tasted like heaven, like my own personal feast. I buried my tongue in her, then, and held her hips as she bucked into my mouth, begging for release—”

“I will do anything,” you beg, face in your palms, “just please stop.”

Finally, mercifully, Veritas closes the book and lowers it down enough for you to snatch it back. You cradle it against your chest, heart pounding and palms sweaty with a chaotic blend of shame, anger, and relief that it was over.

“This is what you indulge in while I’m working? Though you are hardly an intellectual exception, I believed you to be above this brain-rotting nonsense, (Y/n).”

In spite of your embarrassment, you boldly meet his golden eyes. “And what do you care? I enjoy it, and it’s not meant for you. Go stick your nose in a dictionary for all I care.”

“At least I’d be learning something,” he sneers in return, looking down his nose at you. He sniffs, tilting his chin up. “What do those books have that I can’t offer you?”

You still, observing his features. Now that the fun of teasing you has worn off, his eyes flare with loathing. With a jolt, you realize it is not aimed at you but at…the book?

Wordlessly, you glance between Dr. Ratio and your novel. Then, a stilted laugh escapes your lips. “Wait.. Are you seriously jealous of a book?”

“Don’t be preposterous,” he scoffs, though you notice his white-knuckled grip against the back of the armchair you were previously lounging in. “I would never stoop so low as to associate myself with that plebeian filth. I simply wanted to ascertain your reaction to it being read aloud.”

You resist the desperate urge to roll your eyes. “Fine, then. Please leave me to my uneducated filth.” You spin around, intent on finding a new place to finish your reading.

“Not so fast.” Veritas is on you quicker than a cobra, large hands gripping both your shoulders. “Perhaps all is not lost. We may yet transform this circumstance into an educational opportunity for you.”

A chill runs down your spine at the heavy touch, and a sudden sense of foreboding warns you to run. You’re all too aware you’re the mouse being fed to the snake in this moment.

Veritas spins you to face him, eyes slowly trailing down your form, as if taking you in with a new perspective. “I believe an experiment is due.”

You go rigid. “I’m sorry?”

“If you’re so intent on reading about all those fantasies in your books, let’s go ahead and put them to the test, shall we?”

At his clear implication, you yelp and make a run for it. In that moment Veritas strikes, fisting your hair with one hand and cupping your chin with the other as he presses your body flush against his own. You can already feel his hard desire digging into your back.

“Here’s my hypothesis,” he purrs in your ear. “I predict that by the end of tonight, you too will be begging for my cum, whether you want to or not.”

His theory, as always, was proven to be correct.

My Honest Reaction to all this:

In all honesty, thanks for answering my ask!

Will there be a part 2 of the "Attention" fic?

infidelity [gn/m.reader]

the answer to that is a solid yes AND a big apology for taking a hundred years to post this. this ask has been in my inbox for freaking months. and it’s mostly because i have been remaking this fic until i got the most satisfying fic LMAO. i’m sorry for taking so long 😭 i hope this is compensation enough. btw this part 2 to this! but honestly, you don’t have to read it lmao.

𖦹 crack taken seriously, hsr mention but this is mostly genshin, this is just a fic of me making fun of cheaters aka you, highly based on that one tweet of the “welcome home, cheater” one, pushing my grand overseer reader agenda like in my early fics teehee <3, sagau, sahsr au

“I should probably go back…”

Jing Yuan begged to differ. The general himself had his reservations about your sudden eagerness to depart. After all, you were a good company — one that amused him to the core and even kept him awake for the better part of the day. You are an interesting being to him after all — much after learning from the exuberant girl from the famed Astral Express suddenly emphasizing your importance when they left you under his supervision.

You, in much simpler words, are adorable in the Luofo general’s eyes. With eagerness and curiosity melding in those gaze of yours that could leave anyone transfixed — wanting and desperate.

You truly live up to the title as the grand overseer across worlds. You were the sole beholder of their sentience, despite the fact that right now, you’re barely aware of your status and your circumstance, it was more than enough for anyone go cherish your presence. How could they not? It was a blessing to see you descend from where you were, behind the great barrier that they all could only stare at when they looked to you for guidance.

Alas, that mattered little, not when you were beside the amused general and his coy smile, fingers raking through your hair; reminiscent of the pattern when he would do the same thing to Mimi when you visited his abode to meet the furry beauty that was his pet.

Quite frankly, you weren’t all too sure if this was something you were used to, being treated like an animal companion, with even the way Jing Yuan’s hand would suddenly roam behind your very human ears, scratching behind out of habit.

The only thing missing was him giving your food to you in a bowl, actually, and you’d be no different than Mimi at that point. Wait. No. You were sure Jing Yuan’s lion also ate out of a golden encrusted plate when you saw his hired caretakers come and feed Mimi.

“Bark for me, won’t you?” The general teased with a purr and it was more than enough for you to pull the plug at your willing compliance.

You removed his hand from your head and only shot him a subtle glare, “That’s a request I can’t honor even if my life depended on it.” You sighed, “I should get going now though, General… I made a promise to help our conductor in sweeping the floors. Apparently Caelus tracked some dirt inside when he decided to lug some trash.”

“Must you really? You’re the grand overseer, no? I believe such a title deserves a limitless freedom in doing whatever it is that they wish,” he coaxed in a suave tone, quick to win anyone over. And honestly, that sounds nice. But you’ve never seen Pom-Pom look so stressed when you saw an unwilling March and Dan Heng drag some trash either wrapped in gold bags or regular black ones inside the express when they came back from Belobog.

You somehow regretted leaving first — but even you had urgent matters to attend to at that moment.

“Ah—!” The lax Jing Yuan jolted at your sudden outburst.

“…Anything troubling you, Grand Overseer?”

“T-Teyvat! I completely forgot…!” Your eyes were blown wide as the panic settled within you. You had promised Nahida you would make it to the Interdarshan championship. She was so excited when she communed with you just days ago, completely elated that even your beloved Wanderer would participate as a representative in a Darshan.

Albeit confused by your sudden squawking, Jing Yuan understood and only watched you pace around while you lamented what sounds to be a rehearsed apology that you will no doubt tell to someone you hold precious.

“How envious, to receive an apology from you even sounds like a great honor.” Jing Yuan teased with a chuckle. “Well then, off you go now. Don’t be away for too long. I rather enjoy our time together.”

“O-Oh, yes, of course… I truly apologize for cutting our time together short. Do give my regards to Fu Xuan and Yanqing if they drop by. I have to go and talk to the crew and also bid my goodbye for now.” You bowed before turning away, briskly walking your way towards the door outside of the general’s office, only to bump into Welt and March.

“Oh! There you are! Ya ready to go shopping?” March held an exuberant energy as she asked, clasping your hand in hers tightly with an excited gleam flashing through her eyes.

Welt, however, was far more observant than March, “Judging from that look in your eyes… you have some affairs you’ve forgotten to tend to, Your Benevolence. Would I be correct in my judgment?”

“It’d be a miracle for you to be wrong at this point,” you laughed amidst your panic. “But yes, unfortunately. March, I hope you don’t mind a little bit of postponement… I have somewhere to be urgently.”

March’s bottom lip stuck out into pleading pout, “But you promised!”

“March, let’s not force them. It is as they say — an urgent affair.” Welt only looked at you with a small nod and an encouraging smile, “Don’t be too worried. I’ll let Himeko and Dan Heng know of your absence. Just be safe.”

“I will definitely come back and visit.” Your smile and reassurance was enough to quell March’s disappointment and Welt’s initial concern. “Please tell Caelus not to track more dirt inside. It’ll only serve to frustrate Pom-Pom further.”

“It’s a useless attempt, but for you, I’ll try,” March winked as she waved to you with Welt.

With a nod to the two of them, you were off to Teyvat — lucky that you have little need for the Star Rail in the first place to travel. Otherwise, it would most certainly take you the entire conceivable time just before you could even come back to one of the many worlds that you oversaw and to a fault, even took care of from afar.

You stepped into the familiar grassy fields of Sumeru’s rainforest, looking up to see that the city isn’t too far off. There was a gentle breeze that blew by, almost like a kiss from a certain archon, but you paid little heed to it. You normally always took your time to appreciate the sights in Teyvat, finding its vast lands and many biomes incredibly fantastical in sight. But even that couldn’t keep you from the fact that you’ve broken several promises that you willingly made to some residents here.

You can only imagine the disappointment in everyone’s faces once you’ve admitted to the fact that… other people may have swept your attention away in the first place — hence your sudden absence.

You owed your first apology to Nahida. She is after all, one of your far more favored archons around, treating her like your own, definitely something that would make Rukkhadevata proud among every other archon out there. And then there’s also a matter of apologizing to your dear Aether, you made another promise to him that you would spend your time with him in Sumeru’s far end by the Realm of Farakhkert to meet the infamous Sorush and the majestic race of the Pari (you once made a claim that Aranara’s are superior, and your endeared traveler was reluctant in protesting to your words it seems).

Now that you thought about it — you were sure you made quite a lot of promises to the residents of Teyvat. A lot of commitments were hammered into your special sanctuary that Aether had built for and with you inside his teapot.

Commitments that you’ve forgotten in favor of space travels with a couple of trailblazers.

Onlookers turned to your direction, completely flabbergasted at your casual appearance. What were you doing in Sumeru city (not that they were ungrateful for your gracious presence) — but it was as if you were solely taking a stroll on your own. Where are your entourage? Was the Acting Grand Sage even informed of your arrival? What about the archons that always accompanied you? Where is Buer?

Best of all, why does your face contort into an expression of what seems to be utter guilt?

You hiked your way to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, refusing any help offered to you by the guards that were courteous enough. You were prepared to face Nahida’s crestfallen look — prepared to start indulging her wishes to make up for the tomfoolery you engaged in. The corners of your mouth trembled as it itched to finally spill out the plethora of apologies that you’ve prepared.

“Oh. So you exist after all.”

Only for your well-rehearsed (by the last minute) apologies to fall apart when the Wanderer’s voice rang from above. You looked up to see him perched on one of the ledges just above the door of Nahida’s residence. He was stationed like a watchful hawk — and he was, constantly on the prowl for anyone suspicious daring to come up to the sanctuary.

Suddenly, a memory of you promising him to go fishing by the coasts of Sumeru had you wincing. And with the way the puppet’s mouth turned up in a smug smirk showed that he was aware of an engagement you swore you’d do with him.

“Ah… I hear you go by Hat guy now?” You tilted your head, giving him a reluctant smile.

“Spare me the meaningless prying. Where have you been?” His eyes narrowed, suspicious and a tad bitter at your absence and incompetence in attending a tiny little leisure that you yourself insisted he join you on. Who the hell even creates plans first and suddenly flakes out? The Wanderer has never felt more betrayed, quite frankly.

You suddenly looked like a guilty spouse that came from a messy affair, with the way you shifted your footing and how you averted your gaze quick. The Wanderer was intolerant of such a behavior however when he finally came down from his little high up spot to face you with no escape. He will summon a void and trap you in it halfway if you so much as make an attempt to escape.

“I’ve been… away…”

“Were you now?” His scrutinizing gaze only served to intimidate you further when he came up close, his nimble fingers tracing against your clothing. “Whose is this?”

And before you, he held a familiar long strand of white hair — possibly acquired when the general of Luofo decided to frolic around with you, coaxing (or coercing, more like) you to give him a much deserved head massage for his hard work (though in truth, he barely did anything that day).

“…A cat.” Technically not a lie. Jing Yuan does exhibit certain behaviors that you can classify as a behavior that a feline has.

“Is it now?” His voice went an octave higher — clearly mocking you if his churlish grin wasn’t enough of a sign about his suspicions of you and your… agendas prior to your unprompted visit in Teyvat.

A terse silence engulfed you and your Wanderer before he flicked away the hair and dragged you inside Nahida’s sanctuary.

“She was disappointed that you were absent the entire Interdarshan event thing. Where in the abyss were you?” The puppet hissed, his grip on your wrist tightening. Somehow you found it far more comforting compared to the times where people would treat you like some fragile object that could break at any second.

What’s not comforting however, were his words. You couldn’t bear the thought of letting Nahida down, and now you’re faced with that very thought becoming a reality that you now have to get through just for the sake of your sanity.

You smiled a little despite seeing the Dendro Archon’s back turned while she minded her own business. There was always something comforting when wasting your hours away inside the sanctuary. Just having to teach Nahida from your old world knowledge about people, and to an extent even teaching the Wanderer with your wisdom that rarely pops out (according to him, with full intent to insult you). It’s not as daring as the time Venti decided to fling you up and catch you or Ei’s insistence on you eating your tenth dango during your walks.

For now however, you had one goal in mind — and that is to make amends with your favored archon and puppet.

Teyvat altogether created an unspoken rule to never ever doubt you — the Grand Overseer. You have a position that transcends even farther than the Primordial One, your eyes that gaze on many universes and worlds. You are the one that took care of the blooming life in each planet that teemed with it, thriving under your guidance.

There was a collective decision among all gods and mortals alike to never doubt your endeavors, much less your love for them. You care a lot about them, and based solely on your constant descent towards their world, it seems as though above all other worlds, you favored them. They were the proof of your benevolence, granting the residents your presence while you walked among them.

Right. That was the case that everyone agreed upon.

However, there was an underlying layer of unease. Heaven forbid may it be doubt; they could never! But perhaps… a tiny bit of uncertainty in the layer of cautiousness as the residents watched you with adoration.

It first started with the wrong names.

When Albedo, Sucrose, and Timaeus wholeheartedly welcomed your help when you visited Dragonspine with Klee. Jean was far too busy with her work and while she wished to, could not have time to bask in your presence after the announcement of your sudden arrival. In turn, you only assured her and relieved her of her added duty in watching over Klee.

Klee was the one to visit big brother Albedo, to surprise him that you were finally back. And you complied. Dragonspine is an extension of Mondstadt, and you had plans to check up on every single resident of the nation.

Suffice to say, you were quickly hooked up in a chair, pulse detectors attached to your temples while you watched Klee doodle away on the floor. For a respected overseer, you certainly were a people pleaser, letting Albedo scan you out of his own volition (Sucrose was fussing the entire time, she didn’t want you to be hurt in the process, after all!).

“Look Grand Overseer! This is you and me and Dodoco!” Your vision was quickly filled with a flurry of bright colors on paper, one that was filled with an abundant amount of red and the other with the colors of your clothing.

“Ah! So it is! Good job, Hook!”

Everyone in silence soon tore themselves away from their work, looking at you with evident confusion.

Klee blinked, tilting her head as she looked just as lost and surprised as the other three researchers in the mountain, “Hook? That’s not how you say Klee…”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage and tried to save it with a cough, “D-Did I now? Ah, my bad… I meant to say was that you… did a great job! It immediately hooked me in!” It was a half-baked excuse — hell, call it a raw excuse even and everyone aside from Klee caught on as the explosive child beamed with pride, just happy that you loved her heartfelt creation.

Albedo eyed you in suspicion before returning to his work.

Then there was your misplaced reminiscence.

In your defense however, Snezhnaya does feel like Belobog. Sometimes… most definitely not because of the fact that both places are constantly subjected in a thick layer of snow.

The Tsaritsa was all but cruel to you. She loved you like any other archon out there and always basked in your presence — even keeping you for herself a week or two longer, leaving the next nation in your rotation of visitation completely restless at your tardiness. However in her gentle kindness was a terrifying beast that laid dormant.

Only then did you catch a glimpse of it on the morning that you and her spent on your appointed room in the palace, both you and the Cryo Archon siting on the balcony while you sipped on a hot beverage, enjoying the mountainous coated in freshly fallen snow.

You sat your cup down and blew on your hands. The Tsaritsa laughed at your actions, pleased that you can truly feel the love she embodied through the cold winds of her icy nation.

“Cold enough for you, Grand Overseer?” She jested with a light tone.

“…Yep…” your teeth lightly chattered. “…T-This place is a lot c-colder than Belobog, I’ll tell you that… B-But not more than Jarilo-VI as a whole…”

All of a sudden, you could feel the creeping coldness from beside you and looked to where the archon sat, her striking eyes looking at you with curiosity… with a smidge of coldness behind them.

“Pardon? Not colder than where?”

Her tone was pressed despite her sweet adoring smile. She took pride in her sovereign kingdom of cryo. It was all for you, to feel the comforting cold after you spent your last stay with Murata in Natlan. This was her giving you love, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough?

The better part of your mind decided to feign ignorance. And you lived to see another day.

And then the sudden secrecy.

By all means, of all people, Zhongli indulged in your stories the most. Whenever you visited Liyue, you were almost always found beside him if Ningguang wasn’t asking for your presence or if you weren’t getting coerced into another drinking competition with Beidou and her crew. And in this case, you were preoccupied with a little something while you accompanied Zhongli in his usual spot.

He listened earnestly to the storyteller while you busied yourself writing a little something on a parchment you had acquired from the Wangsheng parlor when you fetched Zhongli for his break.

And ever so slightly, he’d find himself glancing at your hunched over form, while you stewed in your little activity. He didn’t particularly mind the lack of conversation from you. Having you beside him was more than enough, actually. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to have him be just as engaged in your little agenda, would it?

The former archon peered at your work, only to be faced with scripts that were oddly reminiscent of Liyue’s characters. Albeit there were significant changes that made the language still all too different from his nation.

“…Might you be translating ancient texts, Grand Overseer?” He inquired and was met by a suspicious jolt from you.

It was a text Dan Heng gave you before to practice the language used in the Xianzhou fleet. Only now did you have time to do his little practices upon your descent. You had plans to check up on everyone as soon as you were done in Teyvat, and perhaps impressing Yanqing with your language prowess was a good party trick (and eventually not get bullied into eating something spicy because of your ignorance).

“Ah! N-No—! I— yes. No.”

Zhongli tilted his head and you were quick to recall your flubbed answer, shoving away the parchment into your little pocket. There was a frantic look in your eyes and Zhongli was concerned, naturally.

You used to be so willing in divulging everything to him in exchange for his stories, with the both of you managing to talk from dusk to dawn without fail with him needing little to no sleep and the time dilation that your body couldn’t seem to adjust to. You weren’t afraid to share what you were preoccupied with, and even often let him experience new things from your own world.

So why are you keeping secrets now?

But perhaps, the breaking point was your standoffish nature.

Aether has always cherished his raw connection with you and was proud to wear his closeness to your divinity, not because of infamy, but because of how incredibly special you treat him. While, certainly, you have made the people of Teyvat special on your visits, but what sets him apart from the rest is your adamant expression of affection towards him. For some reason, he was favored alone, not as a part of a collective unlike Venti and his people, or Zhongli and his. He alone was yours to indulge, even more behind closed doors in his teapot realm.

However… something was off after your abrupt visit.

Something had changed when you came home.

You were far more distracted, occupied with that tiny device you always held in your hand. Suddenly, Paimon wasn’t the loudest one in the teapot mansion with the incessant beeping that your phone made. It never did that before, it was always tucked away somewhere, sometimes even letting him place it in his inventory if there was little time to go back into the teapot.

He had always deemed your mode of communication useless. Especially on your travels. It was always so silent, like a useless artifact that you keep on you.

But suddenly it was teeming with life, buzzing endlessly that could drive any man with weak resistance into the threshold of insanity. You’d often pick it up and grant the little device a heavenly smile and proceed to be on it for hours upon hours.

It was a heartbreaking time for him.

It was heartbreaking whenever he would peer at your device, only for you to keep him in the dark as you made some lame excuse.

It was heartbreaking whenever he could no longer recognize your words when you talked about your own anecdotes, throwing name after name at him while he listened intently.

And oh was it heartbreaking when you called him by the name of someone else.

“[Name], have you seen my earring?” He took pride in his informality with you showing your comfortability and familiarity with the renowned traveler.

“Over on the table, Cae— ther… Caether… Aether.”

Not so much with that tiny slip.

Yes. Perhaps that was it. And all the preceding reasons.

Perhaps it was why you sat like a condemned criminal in the court of Focalors, as every archon looked at you with scrutiny and skepticism in their eyes. Only sweet Nahida looked at you in concern. Ah, your poor child. You’d rather her look away than experience the possible punishment you were about to receive.

“Grand Overseer, make no mistake, this is a trial born from the accumulated concerns of us all. This is a trial born… from our love.” The hydro archon’s voice bellowed through the courts. She normally wasn’t one to personally try the defendants, however you were a special circumstance.

You always were.

…Sure doesn’t feel like it…

“M-May I at least know what my charges are…?”

“Infidelity, Grand Overseer.” Ei answered for the collective. “I can only hope you are not found guilty.”

You grimaced. You’re quite glad that this was a private trial, with only the archons, retired or otherwise, gazing at you. Make no mistake however — this was an intimidating position to be in. You may be the Grand Overseer, but you’re quite sure the only thing keeping you alive is their thinly veiled fanaticism and adoration for you. Otherwise, you would have been incinerated long ago.

It might have been your luck. But it was something you would wholeheartedly thank as the moment Focalors slammed her gavel down, the horrifying screech of something you can only classify as a hideous ally pulled you out of your impending doom.

The alarm on your phone rang incessantly, a glaring reminder of your subpar and mundane reality, waking you up from a dream that you could barely remember.

You shot up, only realizing you fell asleep in front of your own computer. You looked up to see your game open, with your beloved traveler gazing down at you with a disappointed frown on his face.

You chalked it up to your awful sleep and rubbed your eyes, closing the game and migrating to the other, where your in-game phone was filled to the brim with messages.

Smothering a yawn in your hand, you can only shake your head.

“My games have been really weird lately. I should probably leave them alone for now. Maybe have fun with Elysia and the girls.” You muttered to yourself but not before powering your computer down.

Truly, your utter cluelessness is bound to drive everyone insane.

Fret not however, they will make it work. They will let you know of their sentience. They will make sure that you are aware of how much they admire you.

It’s only a matter of time until then.

DANCE WITH THE DEVIL.

synopsis: yan! hsr men as slasher movie killers… and “love interests.” [blade, boothill, aventurine, sunday] words: 3.1k cw: yandere themes: obsession, stalking. slasher elements, gore. a/n: happy friday the 13th to all who celebrate

BLADE is already pretty much like Michael Myers from Halloween: large man, terrifying presence, unfathomable kill count, and cannot die. No matter what you do, no matter how many times you or the other survivors find a way to kill him, he keeps coming back, and with renewed vengeance every time.

The first time you’d been subjected to his knife was at a summer camp. Having gone there every summer for years growing up, you grew attached to the place and decided to pick up a role as a counselor in the summers following your high school graduation, and they passed peacefully. However, in the few months leading up to your college graduation, misfortune befell the small town where the camp was located. Someone’s grave had been dug up, and just weeks after that, people started turning up dead, their bodies littered with so many stab wounds that some were unrecognizable.

Given the ongoing investigation, the counselors and other camp staff requested that the summer camp not reopen, but the owners and even some parents insisted they stay open, and so despite your better judgment, you returned. You needed the money, and you knew how to defend yourself— if anything happened, you could keep yourself and your kids safe.

At least, that’s what you believed. When the man appears in the doorway of your cabin, his stocky figure silhouetted by the moonlight and leaving two red eyes gleaming down at you, you know there’s not a chance in hell you’re making it out of there alive.

You’d thrown yourself at him, yelling for your kids to escape through the back. He’s been merciless, sinking his knife into your flesh over and over again, but you persevered and fought back until you were sure every single one of your kids had made it a good distance away from the cabin. At some point you’d collapsed, from exhaustion and blood loss.

The doctors said it was a miracle you survived. They had your house guarded since he hadn’t been detained, but once word of his death by police gunfire got around, things calmed down significantly. You relaxed over the years, letting your guard down and believing that things could return to normal. Serial killings all over the nation popped up, but you worried not—after all, the killer you were concerned with was dead.

One of the survivors reached out to you five years after that fateful night, wishing to get together with the others who lived to get drinks and properly move on from everything. It was, of course, a set up; Blade had returned, and the man who invited you believed he’d be spared if he got the rest of the survivors together in one place.

He’d been the first one murdered that night. 

Once again, you narrowly dodged death, just barely managing to get yourself to a hospital before you received one stab wound too many. Time goes on, and no matter how many times they put a bullet through his head, he manages to come back. The list of survivors has grown, but the list of victims is now countless.

You’re in your thirties when the police reach out to the adult survivors. There’s a new survivor: a five year-old girl by the name of Yunli. Her parents had been ruthlessly slaughtered, but he hadn’t touched even a single hair on the young girl’s hair. She didn’t have any living family, and so, you agreed to take her in. 

Life is easier with Yunli in it. A bright, spunky little thing, she brings joy to your days and some semblance of a family that you’ve been too scared to seek out. It’s nice to have the sound of laughter filling your home.

That same laughter has you smiling tonight, the girl’s giggling floating down the hallway and into the kitchen, where you’re washing dishes. A quick glance at the microwave’s clock tells you it’s close to her bedtime, and she’s far more energetic than she typically would be at this time. You wipe your hands off on a dish towel and walk down the hall toward her room, wishing to find out what’s working her up at this hour and wanting to tell her to wind down before bed.

You knock lightly before turning the knob. You get the door open a crack before the sight on the other side of it leaves you frozen, horrified.

He’s in Yunli’s room, kneeling before her as she shows him the many dolls you’ve bought her. His knife is on the floor beside him, and the eyes that have haunted your dreams for years pierce into you, pinning you where you stand.

The girl seems… happier with you, than she had been with her parents. Perhaps he’ll have to be kinder to you this time.

BOOTHILL gives me Texas Chainsaw Massacre vibes in terms of how he kills and the brutality of it all, but not personality-wise. No, I actually think he’d be quite personable with that southern charm of his— so of course, no one would ever expect him to do anything unspeakable.

You and your friends are on a road trip when the car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing but fields of crops as far as the eye can see, and the only sign of civilization is a barn, some stables, and a few coops with two houses near them about a mile away from where you’re standing.

You all make the trek, hoping to be able to get some help from the people living there. Worst case scenario, if it’s all been abandoned, you can squat there and look for tools to help you fix the car. But to your surprise, when you knock, a kind-looking man with wild white and black hair opens the door, and after hearing about your situation, is more than happy to be of assistance.

He tows the car onto his property and takes a look at it, determining that the entire engine needs to be replaced. Given his distance from the nearest auto shop, he says he’ll leave for town Sunday afternoon and get the part on Monday morning. It’s going to be an all-day trip, so he likely won’t be back until early Tuesday morning.

You’ve got a couple days to get to know him, in the meantime. Your friends absolutely adore him, pointing out how good of a guy he is, some even pointing out how attractive he is. You scoff one night as he’s making dinner away from where you’re all sitting, as one of your friends starts a bet on if any of you will be able to sleep with him before all of this is over.

Sunday afternoon comes all too soon, though, and none of you get very far with him before he’s heading off in his truck toward the nearest town. You’re a bit shocked that he would so willingly leave a group of strangers in his house unattended, but you chalk it up to his kindness that seems to be boundless.

You should have been far more concerned.

You’re all woken up that night by the sound of a chainsaw revving, shortly followed by one of your friend’s horrible shrieking. The room devolves into panic and chaos as you watch her get torn to shreds by the very man who invited you into his home, now donning a mask of what you hope is animal skin.

You all flee in different directions, but he knows the property better than you do, and sure enough, your friends are picked off one by one until you’re the last one standing. You narrowly dodge some of the traps he’s set up and take refuge in the stables, struggling to keep yourself together as you hear your friend’s cries in the distance. 

While looking for something to defend yourself with, you find a box hidden in a pile of hay. It’s locked, but you force it open, dumping its contents on the floor. A pistol, a few handwritten letters, and pictures of a woman and a young girl. You place the pistol beside you before your curiosity takes over, causing you to slowly go through and study the pictures.

In your distracted state, you failed to notice that he’d gotten into the stables. You jump to your feet when the chainsaw revs just a few feet in front of you. You turn off the safety and raise the gun, your hand steady and your shot clear.

He’s lost so much in his life, and it’s driven him to madness. And you, you remind him of something— someone precious who he lost to illness, to the cruelty of life.

He can’t lose you again. He won’t allow you to leave.

And that’s not something you’ll realize until he’s staring at you from the barrel of a gun you believe is loaded, laughing for a reason you can’t understand.

AVENTURINE stepped right out of a Scream movie. He’s a classic Ghostface-type killer, phone calls and everything. He’s certainly got the charisma needed to make the intimidating phone calls, and I feel like he would enjoy stalking and toying around with his prey a bit before going in for the kill. 

You could probably argue that he’s not the type to want to make things messy, but I feel like in this case, he would be using this as an outlet, meaning all his kills are brutal and gory. (Creative, at times, too. The police will give him that.) There’s just something so comforting about being covered in blood, the warm liquid almost serving as a warm embrace.

For him, there aren’t any better targets than his close friend group. He knows all their darkest secrets, and has no problem using his knowledge to torment them and easily back them into a corner, too panicked to see him coming until it’s too late. These people have always been fake, anyway, and he knows they’ve always looked down on him. Can you really blame him for taking out the trash?

And then, of course, there’s you. You’re not a saint by any means— no, you’ve got your fair share of skeletons in the closet, and each secret you divulge to him because of the trust you foolishly placed in him is sweeter than any death he could imagine giving you. Maybe that’s what draws him to you so much; where everyone else wears a mask, there’s something about you that’s genuine, and it’s a side of you that you’ve entrusted to only him.

So when the killer finally shows up on your doorstep, he’s the one you turn to. As you’re on the phone with the killer, responding to his taunts in an attempt to figure out where exactly he is in your house, you’re texting Aventurine on the side and sending him what you believe is your last goodbye. 

“Do you want to be forgiven?” The disguised voice on the other line croons into your ear. “Do you think you should be?”

You’ve just pressed send on your message when a hand seizes you by the back of the neck and throws you to the ground. The impact of hitting the hardwood floor distracts you from the sound of a phone buzzing nearby. You scramble backward, attempting to get to your feet as you do, but the masked man grabs onto your foot and sinks his knife into your calf, ripping a pained screech from your throat.

He drags you back toward him before settling on top of you, his legs straddling your waist rather suggestively. He sinks his blade into you and drags it across your skin slowly, the scorching pain leaving you writhing and crying out in pain.

He flees once he hears sirens in the distance. The police find you on the floor of your living room with four stab wounds and multiple cuts. Aventurine shows up not long after them, disheveled and worried and flashing the police the text you sent him. They allow him to ride in the ambulance with you, admiring his intent to endanger himself if it meant saving you.

You’re so frazzled that you don’t even notice he showed up at your house way sooner than he should’ve, as though he was already nearby. You just blindly turn to him for comfort, clutching onto him for dear life. It’s cute.

He runs his hands through your hair soothingly, shushing you and gently rubbing your back as you sob into his shoulder. You shouldn’t worry so much, dear. He’s here now, and he’ll make sure no one else lays a finger on you ever again.

You don’t realize your grave mistake until you’re standing in Jade’s basement, her brutalized body at your feet and a metal pipe in your hands. You can defend yourself all you like, but it’s far too easy for the masked killer to evade your swings and land his blade in your shoulder, your stomach, your thigh. All places that won’t kill you, of course.

When you finally collapse to your knees, sobbing hysterically and succumbing to your fate, the killer unexpectedly drops to his knees beside you. He wraps his arms around you and presses his chest to your back, trapping you in his hold. You shudder as he runs his blade along your face and neck, smearing your own blood across your soft skin.

“It’s okay,” he coos, and the familiar voice makes you freeze. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

The mocking laughter that follows makes your heart drop, and the rest of your hope vanishes.

SUNDAY is definitely involved in some Children of the Corn type of shit. Some supernatural slasher stuff where there’s a cult behind everything, and he’s at the head of it all.

Ena is not a kind god. Countless generations of Oaks have tried various methods of worship and offerings, but none work quite as well as the human sacrifice. This is something Mr. Wood had taught him from a very young age, explaining to Sunday their history as he methodically cut up whichever poor soul had wandered into their humble, hidden town that week.

As head of the Family, he’s exemplary. No one has ever wielded a blade quite like he has, his hand always steady and unflinching. His blessed hands bring prosperity to the land that has never been seen before, Ena’s favor raining down on him and his people. He is as revered as their god at this point, and there is nothing his people would not do for him.

The road trip you make every year to your parent’s house for Thanksgiving was a long one, and a sudden downpour along the way has you rolling to a stop in the nearest town. You plan to just take shelter at a restaurant and grab a bite to eat while you’re there, then fill up on gas and be on your merry way once everything clears up. 

Everyone is so kind, though. The locals in the restaurant make conversation with you, asking about your life and cooing at you once you explain that you’re on your way to visit your family. You spend most of your time talking to the people at the table next to you, a man and his sister, and you get so lost in conversation that you haven’t even realized night has fallen. You pay your bill and are ready to head out when the man stops you.

“You should stay the night at one of the inns,” he advises, a delicate hand placed on your shoulder. “There are still storm clouds, and it could start pouring again at any moment. It would be unfortunate to have to travel through that, especially at night.”

You check the forecast, and to your dismay, he’s right. With his help, you check into a hotel across the street, and you thank him for his assistance before you turn in for the night.

Your peaceful sleep is soon disrupted by a rag being held over your mouth and nose, startling you awake. At this point, you’ve already breathed in the chloroform, and you barely have time to register the formless figures around your bed dressed in shades of white and navy blue before you pass out.

You wake up in an underground cellar, stone walls encasing you in cold nothingness. There are four other people in the room with you, also bound and gagged and staring back at you with wide-eyed terror. There are screams of pain echoing down the stairs from somewhere above you all, the sound of synchronized chanting doing little to mask it.

It’s not difficult to guess what fate awaits you.

Young children dressed in extremely formal clothing bring you all food and water. They’re sweet to you all, terribly so. You’re not sure how long you’re down there, but the time you have left is counted down with each person that is taken out of the room. There are new people brought into the cellar, but once the original four you were with are gone, you know your time has come.

The next time the shapeless people in robes descend the steps, they reach for you. You’re injected with some kind of sedative before you even have the chance to lash out at them, and the blindfold they place over your eyes seems pointless, since you black out, anyways.

When you wake, your arms and legs are bound to some kind of marble slab that you’ve been laid on. You’ve been stripped, and your skin is covered in some kind of oil. It’s cold, and the vulnerability of being exposed just makes your situation all the worse.

Your breath hitches and your pitiful, muffled cries for help stop when you feel something sharp prick your skin. Sunday lightly applies pressure to the knife in his hand, carving beautiful patterns along the surface of your skin. With his free hand, he traces a gloved finger over the beads of blood the blade leaves behind, his touch so devout it’s downright sinful. The sight of you brings him pause, the knife stopping all too suddenly.

It is the first time he has hesitated during a ritual.

Perhaps… you’re not meant to be sacrificed. No, surely something as divine as you is meant for much more than that. Perhaps Ena has lured you here just for him, a reward for his unwavering faith, steady leadership, and all he has done for their people.

“As the highest among us,” Mr. Wood had said the day he named Sunday the new head of the Family, “you have first pick at reaping Ena’s blessings.”

Ena is not a kind god. But perhaps, just this once, they would allow him to be selfish.

wake up guys heliosunny dropped another banger

Hello! Wondering if you can do a fic with Anaxa? Maybe how he uses his gun to scare off other people from Reader?

Yandere!Anaxa x Reader

The scent of musk, sweat, and perfume clung to the air. Somewhere, silk rustled against bare skin, a stifled giggle was followed by a drawn-out moan. You sat stiffly on the cushioned floor, hands bound loosely in front of you.

Everything had gone black since that night.

The night your palace burned.

You’d watched the throne crumble, the flags torn down, the screams of your people. And then something—someone—had struck you down. The flash was so bright, you swore the stars themselves had bled into your retinas. Now all you saw was a sea of endless dark.

“Do you like the sounds?” a teasing voice asked. The man’s footsteps creaked closer. “Such a waste for someone like you to be blind... Can’t even see what you’re missing.”

That voice belonged to him—Kallius. He had taken you after the siege, claimed you like one might claim a broken heirloom, only to toss it onto the shelf for entertainment. At night, he brought women into the room and made a show of his indulgence, whispering cruel things to test your limits.

You flinched as the moans grew louder, fake and over-exaggerated, designed to pierce your ears like knives. One woman laughed as Kallius pressed her against the wall with a thud.

“This is what pleasure sounds like. Do you remember what that is?” he mocked.

“Why are you doing this…?”

“Oh? Still talking?” he chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to turn up the volume.”

There was another groan, sharper, more dramatic. You winced. You wanted to cry—but even your tears had dried up by now.

Then… the door burst open.

The moan cut off into a gurgled scream.

A warm spray misted your cheek.

You didn’t need your sight to know something was very, very wrong.

The woman had fallen silent. The other girls gasped, scrambling backward. You heard a soft metallic clink… the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

“…Big brother” Kallius muttered. There was a hint of amusement, but also fear. “You’re no fun.”

Anaxa stood in the doorway, the scent of smoke clinging to his coat.

“Too loud” Anaxa said flatly, stepping inside. “And you touched what's mine.”

You blinked, feeling something warm drip down your cheek. You reached up hesitantly—and felt it.

Blood.

You couldn’t even scream.

Anaxa knelt beside you, his hand brushing your ear gently. “Cover these,” he whispered, “You don’t need to hear what comes next.”

He stood again,“Out. Now. Before I forget to be merciful.”

There was a scramble of footsteps—heels on tile, fabric dragging. A whimper. Then silence again, broken only by Kallius’ low chuckle.

“You’re obsessed..”

“You’re still breathing. Be grateful.”

And then… his arms scooped you up, pulling you close to a chest you recognized even without your vision.

“You don’t belong in filth like that.”

You didn't reply. You didn’t even know how to. But you let yourself be carried, your face still warm with blood, your heart pounding against cracked ribs.

You didn’t know how to feel. You sat motionless in the chair by the fireplace, the blood still crusted on your cheek, a ghost of the earlier violence.

When he carried you into his chambers, Anaxa said nothing for a long time. He simply set you down on soft sheets and crouched in front of you. You could feel his eyes scanning every inch of your skin, his hands surprisingly gentle, checking your wrists, your arms, your face.

“…No bruises” he murmured. “Good.”

He didn’t speak after that. Just the quiet shuffle of him standing and walking away.

You heard the door close behind him with a metallic click. Locked—from the outside.

You exhaled, not realizing you'd been holding your breath.

Time passed strangely.

Minutes. Hours. Maybe longer.

Eventually, footsteps approached. The door opened, and cautious voices whispered to one another.

Servants. Two of them, women by their tones, helping you out of the stiff, bloodied clothes and into clean, silken ones. Warm water ran over your hands as they wiped your skin delicately.

They didn’t explain anything. Maybe they were too afraid.

You wanted to ask about your eyes, about a healer—anything. But all that came out was a hoarse, “Can I stay inside?”

“…His Highness says the fresh air will help.”

Later, as the sun—or what you assumed was the sun—shifted behind thick curtains, the door opened again.

You knew it was him. Even without seeing, you felt him.

That scent—faint gunpowder.

“Come” Anaxa said.

You stayed sitting on the bed, unsure, hugging your knees. “I’m fine here…”

“No, you’re not.”

He was closer now, and you didn’t even hear him move.

“You need to remember the world hasn’t ended. You’re still breathing. I made sure of that.”

You didn’t answer.

“I’ll hold your hand. I won’t let you fall.”

You hesitated. But your fingers still reached out, searching… and found his.

You let him guide you.

-------

Later that evening, you heard new footsteps

“The doctor you requested.”

Anaxa didn’t speak at first. He merely shifted beside you on the couch.

“Your Highness. With permission?”

Anaxa gave a quiet grunt, then turned to you. “He’s here to help. Let him.”

The doctor’s hands were cold. He checked your eyes, held lights near them—though you couldn’t tell how bright.

“Your eyes are healing, but slowly. The shock trauma caused temporary cortical blindness. It’s not permanent, but… you’ll need care. Rest, above all.”

Night crept in.

You curled beneath heavy blankets in the oversized bed, your thoughts swimming. Was this safety? Or just another cage?

The house was silent—until it wasn’t.

A soft creak.

Then another.

You shifted slightly, “Anaxa…?”

No response.

Suddenly, a rough hand clamped over your mouth.

You thrashed instinctively, but the body pressed against yours was larger, heavier.

“Shhh…”

Kallius.

“I missed that little shiver,” he said, pinning you to the bed, his breath hot and sour against your skin. “You really are a fine little plaything. No wonder Anaxa’s been hiding you like some precious gem.”

You couldn’t move—your limbs locked in panic.

“Let’s see how loyal he is,” Kallius murmured, dragging his fingers slowly down your arm. “Maybe he’ll still want you once I’ve had my fun. Or maybe he’ll finally toss you aside like broken glass.”

He shifted closer, the weight of his body pressing into you.

Your teeth clamped down on his hand.

“Ah—!!”

He yanked back with a growl.

You didn’t wait—you bolted. Your knees hit the cold floor. You didn’t care. You ran blindly through the halls.

“Y/N?”

You slammed into him chest-first, trembling.

He caught you instantly.

“What happened?”

Before you could even form the words, Kallius’s voice echoed down the hall.

“They bit me. Can you believe that?”

Anaxa didn’t reply. Not with words.

You felt the way his body stilled.

And then you heard it—the click of the safety coming off his gun.

“Woah, woah—easy, big bro-”

Kallius raised his hands in mock surrender, limping into view with a forced grin. “No need to point that thing at me. I was just teasing.”

Anaxa didn’t lower the gun.

He aimed directly at his brother’s thigh—and fired.

Kallius collapsed with a grunt of pain, hand clutching his bleeding leg as he cursed under his breath.

“I warned you” Anaxa muttered, already turning away with you still in his arms.

The next few days passed in an odd hush.

Kallius was nowhere to be heard.

In the meantime, servants tended to you more gently now.

But Anaxa was gone.

The quiet he left behind wasn’t comforting.

You still couldn’t see.

But your other senses sharpened. The scent of old books in the library. The breeze through the courtyard. The way sunlight warmed your face. You began taking walks with someone guiding you, or on your own when you were brave enough.

That’s where he found you—by the tall hedges in the east garden, tracing your fingers along rough bark and damp petals.

“I see you haven’t lost your curiosity”

You turned toward the sound. “You’re back.”

“Did you miss me?” he asked playfully.

You didn’t answer.

He didn’t mind.

“When I was younger. I was being pushed around by older kids in the village.”

You tilted your head slightly, unsure where this was going.

“There was a tree,” he continued, “with a single apple left. I couldn’t reach it. But someone else did. Not afraid of dirt or climbing. They picked it, dropped it down, and we split it right there under the branches like we were friends.”

You stood still.

“I always remembered that day,” he added, “because it was the first time someone didn’t look at me like I was nothing.”

He took a step closer. His fingers brushed your wrist.

“Come on. You’re tired,” he murmured. “Let’s get you back.”

The halls felt less threatening now, though you still didn’t know what to make of the man at your side—gentle and monstrous, savior and tormentor. He was all of it, layered and unreadable.

Late into the night, after servants had gone and silence had settled, you spoke:

“Anaxa.”

He stirred from where he stood near the balcony, the scent of fresh air clinging to him. “Hmm?”

“I want to know what you look like.”

That made him pause.

“I can’t see,” you continued, “but maybe I could… get an idea.”

You reached your hand out hesitantly.

He didn’t move at first.

Then, without a word, he stepped closer—close enough that his presence warmed your skin. You lifted your fingers carefully and brushed them across his jaw. You moved upward, tracing the curve of his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose—sharp, symmetrical. His lips were still.

And then your fingertips ghosted over something foreign.

An eyepatch.

You paused.

“...Is something wrong with your eye?” you whispered.

He flinched slightly under your touch, but didn’t pull away.

“It’s just… a memorable moment”

You could feel the unspoken weight in those words.

You lowered your hand slowly, heart aching with a strange mix of fear and fascination.

Anaxa didn’t speak again. He simply helped you lie down, adjusting the blanket, making sure you were warm.

And as his footsteps faded into the next room, your thoughts drifted somewhere darker.

Because no matter how gently he touched you…

No matter how many times he said you’re safe…

You remembered who he was.

You remembered the screams. The flames. The night everything ended.

He had stood there.

He hadn’t just found you in the ruins. He had helped create them.

He killed your family.

The moment you were stronger—when your legs could carry you, and your eyes opened again—you’d leave.

No matter what it cost.

That morning, a guard approached with a message:

“His Highness summons you to the east tower.”

Anaxa never sent for you through anyone else.

But the guard bore his seal.

So you followed.

You climbed the winding steps slowly, fingers brushing the cold stone walls. The wind bit sharper the higher you went, and by the time you reached the terrace, something already felt… off.

“Kallius?” you whispered, recognizing the scent—too sweet, like wine overripe.

He was waiting by the railing.

“My brother’s little pet… You just never learn.”

The world dropped beneath you.

You didn’t even have time to scream.

CRACK.

Everything went black.

When the news reached Anaxa, his silence was more terrifying than any scream.

“Where?”

“Th-the east tower. The guards—found them at the base. Alive, but unconscious.”

“Bring Kallius to the pit.”

Kallius was dragged in, his leg still limping from the bullet wound. He grinned as though it were a joke.

“Oh come on, brother, really? They tripped. Clumsy little thing—”

Anaxa shot him in the other knee.

He raised his gun again.

But before he could give the final command, the chamber doors burst open.

A woman ran in—one of Kallius’s devoted.

“Wait—please!” she cried. “He only did it because of that person! They're poisoning you, you don’t see it—”

Anaxa turned his eye on her.

“…So you want to die with him.”

“N-no, I—”

“Fine.”

He nodded once to his soldiers.

“Skin her too.”

Kallius’s screams were drowned out by hers.

-----

Back in the upper chamber, you still hadn’t woken.

Wrapped in bandages. Blood dried at your temple.

Anaxa sat by your bedside, unmoving.

He hadn’t spoken since he returned.

But his hand was wrapped tightly around yours.

It was days before your eyes finally fluttered open.

Everything was blinding at first—white bandages, the sharp sting of light. A pressure in your skull throbbed, dull and heavy, but—

You could see.

And sitting beside you, head bowed with exhaustion… was him.

When he noticed your eyes open, his single visible eye went wide.

“…Y/N”

Relief washed over his features like breaking thunder. He reached out, fingers trembling slightly, and cupped your cheek—but stopped himself before fully touching you.

“You’re back”

You tried to speak, but your throat was too dry.

All you could do was point shakily toward the pitcher of water. He understood instantly, helping you drink, then bringing you warm broth, soft bread, fresh fruit.

In the days that followed, your body mended.

You walked again. Slowly. But now, with sight returning, the world came back to you in sharp contrast—vivid, overwhelming.

And so did he.

Anaxa didn’t leave your side unless necessary. But when he did… the change was obvious.

Short-tempered. Anyone who so much as looked at you wrong was snapped at. Servants flinched when he entered the room, even if he was calm.

You pulled him aside one day after seeing a maid leave with tears in her eyes.

“Anaxa,” you said, “you can’t keep treating people like that.”

“They don’t deserve you.”

“That’s not the point.” you pushed, trying to stay calm. “People want to help. But they’re scared. And scared people don’t stay loyal forever.”

Reluctantly, he nodded.

“…I’ll try.”

That night, you bathed and dressed with the help of two familiar servants—girls who had been by your side since the accident. They were kind.

“I wanted to leave.” you whispered.

They froze behind you.

“He helped me, yes. But he also took everything from me.”

The silence stretched. Then—

Thump.

You turned just in time to see one of the girls drop to her knees, face pale.

Then the other.

Their foreheads hit the floor with sickening force.

Thump. Thump.

They began to sob.

“Please don’t go,” one of them begged, “Please—he’ll think we let you slip, he’ll—he’ll kill us—!”

The other was already bleeding from her brow, tears mixing with red as she struck her head again and again.

“We’ll die,” she wept. “We’ll die if you leave. Please, please stay—”

You stumbled forward, horrified, grabbing their wrists.

“Stop!” you shouted. “Stop, I’m not—! I won’t go now, okay? Just stop!”

The door opened behind you.

Anaxa stood in the doorway.

“What… happened here?”

You quickly turned.

“They were helping me. That’s all. Nothing’s wrong.”

He looked unconvinced, his gaze darting to the trembling servants.

You placed your hand on his chest, trying to ground him.

“I’ll handle it. Just let me.”

After a beat, he nodded once.

“Out,” you said gently to the girls. “Go. Get cleaned up.”

They scrambled to obey.

And once they were gone… the room fell quiet again.

That night, as you lay in bed, the thought clawed at you.

What happened to Kallius?

You remembered the fall, the pain, the blur of stone and blood.

And then waking up—alive.

But Kallius… you hadn’t seen or heard his name spoken since.

The next day, during a quiet moment, you asked Anaxa.

He was seated at your window, light slicing across the dark fabric of his coat, his eyepatch catching the glow.

“…What happened to your brother?”

He stilled.

At first, no reply.

Then, abruptly—his voice clipped.

“He got what he deserved.”

You waited, but that was all he gave.

Anaxa rose soon after, “Rest well” before walking out.

You didn’t sleep.

It was the next morning when you approached one of the more trusted servants—an older woman.

“I need to know,” you told her. “What happened to Kallius.”

She hesitated.

“If you promise not to leave… I’ll tell you.”

“What?”

“If you stay here,” she repeated shakily. “We’ll talk. If not… I won’t say a word.”

You didn’t understand. Not yet.

But you nodded anyway.

“…Alright.”

She looked around, then led you to the laundry halls, where voices didn’t carry. And in a hushed voice, she told you.

At first, Anaxa had simply ordered Kallius to be executed.

But something changed his mind.

Instead of death, Kallius was tied up.

Each day, one by one, his loyalists were brought before him—his guards, his lovers, his advisors. One a day.

Executed.

Some were skinned. Some beheaded. Others poisoned slowly while he watched.

They made sure he heard every scream.

He begged, cried.

But Anaxa never relented.

And when there were no followers left—

Anaxa slit his throat himself.

“He said… that was mercy.”

The horror sat low in your chest like a stone dropped in still water.

You returned to your room.

That night, you dressed for dinner.

You sat at the long table across from him.

“Good to see you up,” he said. “You’re glowing.”

You forced a smile. “Thank you.”

The meal was beautifully laid.

You lifted your goblet, your hands steady despite the churn in your gut.

But as the cool wine touched your lips, something felt… off.

Not the taste. The aftertaste.

You set the goblet down.

Across from you, Anaxa tilted his head.

“…Is something the matter?”

And that’s when your heartbeat stuttered.

The room spun.

You barely noticed your goblet slip from your hand, the wine soaking into the embroidered cloth. You gripped the table, but your fingers felt numb.

Anaxa was at your side in an instant.

“There we go,” he murmured gently, arms firm around you, lifting you up as though you weighed nothing. “You’re just tired.”

The warmth of his body pressed into yours. You were so cold.

Your legs didn’t listen to you. Your tongue felt heavy.

He guided you out of the hall, his voice low in your ear.

“Just repeat after me.”

You could barely understand his words, but your mouth moved.

Repeating something.

Over and over.

“Yes… I accept…”

“I will never leave…”

When you woke, you were back in your room—but everything was… different.

Ribbons hung from the posts of the bed. A tray of delicate sweets sat beside a floral bouquet. And your hand—

There was a ring on your finger.

The door creaked open.

Servants entered with smiles, bows, soft cheers. Someone scattered petals at your feet. They whispered congratulations. One girl held a cake shaped like a crown. Another gave you a shawl embroidered with phoenixes.

“May your union be eternal,” one whispered. “He’ll protect you forever now.”

Union?

You stood, half in a trance, as Anaxa entered last—his uniform exchanged for ceremonial robes.

“You’re awake” he said with quiet satisfaction.

“What… did you do?”

“You said yes,” he said, “You promised. And now everyone knows. You belong to this palace… and to me.”

You stared at him.

Everything fell into place.

He’d married you.

“You don’t need to run anymore,” he whispered. “You have a kingdom again. A husband. A future. All you have to do… is stay.”

PLEASE IM BEGGING LIKE THE BIGGEST BEGGAR IN THE WORLD DO A DAN HENG LUCKY EGG FIC( Unless you don’t want to!)

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Dan Heng x Reader

You didn’t expect much when you got the egg. Sure, it looked a little different compared to normal eggs people got, but that was normal, right?

For the next three days, you never let it out of your sight. And then, the feeling of being watched started. At first, you thought it was your imagination. By the third day, your unease had turned into a quiet, gnawing dread.

That night, as you walked home with the egg cradled against your chest, a shadow moved.

Before you could react, a figure lunged from the darkness. A hand snatched at the egg.

"Hand it over!"

Instinctively, you held it tighter. "No."

"Then I'll just have to take it myself."

A flash of silver—a weapon.

You barely had time to flinch before-

Crack

A burst of blinding teal light exploded from the egg, knocking the intruder back. The warmth in your arms vanished as something took its place.

A young man now stood before you. Dark, messy hair, his expression calm but unreadable. He stepped in front of you, placing himself between you and the attacker.

"Step away from them."

The assailant cursed under their breath before lunging again.

With startling speed, the man deflected the strike, the enemy barely had time to react before he countered, sending them stumbling back. Realizing the fight was unwinnable, they vanished into the night.

You clutched the empty eggshell, heart hammering, struggling to process what just happened.

The young man turned, his gaze scanning you carefully.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head slowly.

“…Good.”

But before you could even think of a response, a sudden force yanked at your chest.

A sharp, invisible pull tightened between you and Dan Heng-his name suddenly came to you, an unnatural bond snapping into place. You weren’t the only one who felt it, Dan Heng’s hand clenched into a fist, his brows furrowing as if testing something unseen.

“…It seems we are bound together.”

“What?”

Dan Heng’s words settled heavily between you.

You stared at him. “What do you mean… bound?”

Dan Heng’s expression was unreadable as he lifted his hand, fingers flexing slightly—as if testing the invisible force between you.

“I can feel it” he murmured. “A connection.” His sharp eyes flickered to you. “And so can you.”

Now that he mentioned it…

There was something tugging at your chest. A strange, lingering warmth linking you to him, like a thin, invisible thread pulling taut whenever you moved too far away.

“What the hell is this?” You instinctively took a step back.

Dan Heng didn’t stop you—he didn’t need to. The moment you moved too far, a dull ache formed at your core, forcing you to halt.

Dan Heng’s eyes narrowed. “It won’t let us separate.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the unease creeping up your spine. “Is this… because of the egg?”

“Most likely.” Dan Heng let out a slow exhale, his voice calm despite the situation. “Something unnatural happened when I hatched.”

No kidding.

You clenched the broken remnants of the egg in your hands, staring at the glowing fragments. This wasn’t normal. None of this was normal.

Dan Heng studied you carefully. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head. “Not really… Just weird.”

He nodded. “Then we should find out how to undo it.”

Right. That made sense.

You didn’t know Dan Heng, and he didn’t know you. Staying attached like this wasn’t ideal for either of you.

But before you could say anything else, that feeling of being watched returned.

Your body tensed. “They’re still here.”

Dan Heng was already looking past you. He was silent for a moment before speaking again, voice lower this time.

“Come with me.”

You barely had time to react before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. The two of you disappeared into the night.

The inn was quiet, tucked away in an alley far from prying eyes. It wasn’t the most luxurious place, but it would do for the night.

Dan Heng took a seat on the small wooden chair in the corner, silent as he assessed the room. You, on the other hand, dropped onto the bed, exhausted from the night’s chaos.

“…I’ll bathe first” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

Dan Heng nodded, offering no objections. He was still tense, likely on alert in case your pursuer returned.

Steam curled from the bathroom as you let the hot water wash away the tension in your body. By the time you emerged, towel-drying your hair, you noticed something was different.

That strange, invisible pull? Gone.

You tested it cautiously, taking a few steps away from Dan Heng. No resistance. No ache. Nothing.

Dan Heng must have felt it too. He lifted a brow. “It’s gone.”

You nodded, unsure whether to feel relieved or concerned. Why had it disappeared so suddenly?

Dan Heng stood, “I’ll bathe next.”

You collapsed onto the bed. The momentary separation felt… odd. But you brushed it aside.

When Dan Heng returned, hair damp and sleeves rolled up as he towel-dried it, you caught sight of a faint scratch on his forearm.

“Did you get that earlier?” you asked.

He followed your gaze, barely sparing it a glance. “It’s nothing.”

“Still.” You grabbed a small first-aid kit from the bedside drawer. “Let me see.”

Dan Heng didn’t move, but he didn’t stop you either.

You carefully cleaned the scratch, applying a light bandage. “There. Should be fine now.”

Dan Heng watched your hands for a second before meeting your eyes. “…Thank you.”

You blinked. He was so stoic most of the time that the simple gratitude caught you off guard.

“Yeah, well.” You leaned back. “It’d be a pain if you got sick over something so small.”

Dan Heng huffed lightly, almost amused.

The atmosphere felt… more comfortable now.

For the first time since this night started, you didn’t feel like strangers.

The inn had only one bed. You figured Dan Heng wouldn’t mind sharing—after all, he had just saved your life.

But as expected, the moment you suggested it, he refused.

“I’ll sleep on the floor” he said simply, already grabbing a spare pillow.

You rolled your eyes. “You just fought someone, ran through half a forest, and got scratched up in the process. You need the bed.”

With an exasperated sigh, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him in.

Dan Heng stiffened at the sudden touch, but you didn’t let go. “Just sleep. I don’t mind.”

Ultimately, he relented, slipping under the blanket beside you—though he kept a noticeable distance.

You didn’t push it. Exhaustion weighed on you like a stone, and before you knew it, sleep took over.

A faint creak of the floor. The softest rustle of fabric.

Dan Heng’s eyes snapped open.

Intruders.

Before he could react, a hand clamped over his mouth, and a sharp pressure point strike numbed his limbs.

His vision blurred for a split second, but his focus remained sharp. They had waited until you were deep in sleep, ensuring you wouldn’t wake no matter what.

Dan Heng struggled, but his body refused to cooperate. He was lifted and carried away, the door closing behind them without a sound.

And you?

Still asleep, blissfully unaware.

You woke up to emptiness. The bed beside you was cold. The blanket was untouched, and Dan Heng was gone.

You knew something was wrong. You could feel it—not just instinctively, but physically. A sharp pull, like an invisible string tugging at your very core. It yanked you forward, as if guiding you somewhere.

Without hesitation, you threw on your shoes and bolted out of the inn.

Your feet led you through winding streets, across empty alleyways, and towards an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The closer you got, the more intense the feeling became.

When you reached the entrance, muffled voices reached your ears.

“…We know you came from the egg.”

Then, a sharp sound—a syringe being pressed into skin.

Dan Heng let out a strained breath. His usual composed presence was cracking. You peered through a small opening. He was tied to a chair, his head lowered, his breath uneven. His body trembled, muscles twitching unnaturally. Whatever they had injected him with, it was forcing a reaction out of him.

One of the men stepped closer. "If you won't talk, we'll just—"

With the element of surprise on your side, you grabbed the nearest metal rod and slammed it into the first guy’s head. He crumpled instantly. The second turned, but you had already kicked him square in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. You twisted the third man's arm back and sent him crashing into the interrogation table.

Three down.

Your chest heaved, adrenaline still buzzing in your veins. Then, you turned to Dan Heng.

His head was still lowered, his fingers curled tightly into fists. His breathing had grown heavier—not from exhaustion, but from something else.

You approached carefully. “Dan Heng…?”

A tremor ran through his body. Slowly, he lifted his head.

And his eyes— Not the calm, reserved gaze you knew.

The moment your eyes met, you knew this wasn’t Dan Heng.

His usually composed expression was gone, replaced by something feral. His chest heaved, his muscles tensed, and the eerie glow of his newly-formed horns cast an unnatural light against the dim room.

Then, he lunged. You barely managed to dodge in time. His fingers grazed your shoulder, sharp nails cutting through fabric. He wasn’t holding back.

"Dan Heng, snap out of it!" you shouted, ducking under his next strike.

But there was no response.

His attacks were relentless, each blow precise, deadly.

Your back hit the wall.

His hand shot out, aiming straight for your throat.

And in that moment, his body gave out.

Dan Heng collapsed right in front of you.

The tension in the air vanished. His breath came in sharp gasps, his body still trembling from whatever those men had done to him.

You didn’t waste time.

You dragged him home.

A day passed.

You sat beside his unconscious form, watching for any sign of change. The bond between you had flickered—then disappeared entirely.

And his body…

His features were different now.

His ears— sharper, more elongated. His horns— translucent green, curling back in the shape of a dragon’s. Whoever those men were, they must have known. They were after Dan Heng’s power.

When he finally woke up, his body tensed immediately. His gaze landed on you, and for a moment, you feared he’d attack again.

Then, slowly, his breathing steadied.

“…You are alive.” His voice was hoarse.

“Of course I did.” You frowned. “Though you almost killed me, you know that?”

“…I know.” His fingers curled into the sheets. “And yet, you didn’t leave.”

“You can explain later.”

You reached out carefully, brushing his bangs back to check for a fever. His new horns brushed against your wrist.

For now, you’d both deal with the consequences together.

Dan Heng sat on the edge of the bed, fingers lightly brushing against one of his newly-formed horns. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders was clear.

You crossed your arms, staring at him. "Why did you turn into...that?"

He glanced up at you, his sharp blue-green eyes filled with uncertainty. "I don’t know."

Most of his human form had returned, but some of the dragon-like features remained. His elongated ears, his translucent green horns… they were all still there.

He looked down at his own hands. "I shouldn’t have changed in the first place. I was… altered."

"Well, you came from the egg I got, so that makes you my responsibility."

"You say that so easily."

"Because it’s the truth," you shot back. "You’re new to life here, right? You don’t even know how things work. If I leave you alone, you might get kidnapped again."

He couldn’t argue with that.

"Come on. You need to learn how to live like a normal person."

“…You’re seriously taking this upon yourself?"

"Obviously. If I don’t, who will?" You raised an eyebrow. "Unless you'd rather run around in the open and get captured again?"

“…Very well. I’ll leave myself in your care.”

For now, you’d carry on.

At first, you didn’t think much of it.

Dan Heng adjusted quickly to life here, following your instructions without complaint. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he listened, observed, and adapted well.

And then… you started noticing something strange.

One morning, as he sat at the small dining table, sipping the tea you made, you caught something in your peripheral vision—his horns were fading.

You blinked. Was it a trick of the light?

But then later that day, after you dragged him to the market (much to his dismay), his horns reappeared. His sharp ears elongated again, and—most alarming of all—he briefly grew a tail.

You nearly choked on air when you saw it.

Luckily, it vanished quickly, but you had seen it.

"Dan Heng" you called, suspicious.

He looked at you, unfazed. "What?"

You squinted. "…Are you aware that you’re…changing?"

He froze for a fraction of a second, but that was enough confirmation.

You crossed your arms. "Your horns. Your ears. A tail, Dan Heng. What’s causing it?"

His eyes flickered downward. A thoughtful silence stretched between you before he finally admitted, "I don't know. But…" his gaze met yours again, "It only seems to happen when I feel… displeased."

You stared at him. "So you're telling me… the more annoyed you get, the more dragon-like you become?"

He nodded.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "Great. So I just have to keep you happy or else you’ll start sprouting more parts?"

Dan Heng didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his expression shifted—just slightly. His usual calm mask gave way to something more… pleased.

And in that moment, his horns… faded.

Wait a damn minute.

Your eyes narrowed. "…You like hearing that, don’t you?"

Dan Heng tilted his head, feigning innocence

You had a feeling this was going to be a huge problem.

You weren’t one to leave things unexplored—especially not something this bizarre.

So naturally, you had to test it out.

Test #1: Jealousy

Dan Heng rarely reacted strongly to anything. He was composed, observant, and rarely raised his voice. But you needed to see if strong emotions—specifically negative ones—would bring his features back.

So, you made him jealous.

It was subtle at first. A passing remark about someone at the market being “pretty nice.” An offhand comment about how they “seemed dependable.”

Dan Heng didn’t react outwardly.

But when you jokingly mentioned that someone offered to “show you around sometime,” his sharp ears reappeared.

You almost dropped what you were holding.

Dan Heng noticed too. He frowned, touching his ear. “That’s—”

Gotcha.

“Relax," you waved a hand, feigning innocence. "I was just talking."

He narrowed his eyes slightly. But after a long, assessing look, his ears faded again.

Test #2: Comfort

Later that evening, after he bathed, you casually offered, "Want me to dry your hair?"

"That’s unnecessary—"

"Sit!" you ordered, grabbing a towel.

Dan Heng hesitated but complied.

You gently ruffled the towel through his damp hair, fingers lightly brushing his scalp. You expected him to tense—but to your surprise, he relaxed almost instantly.

And then, in real time, his horns disappeared.

"Something wrong?" he murmured, his voice oddly softer than usual.

You exhaled. "…No."

But internally, you were screaming.

Test #3: Annoyance

The next day, he accidentally broke your favorite dish.

It wasn’t his fault—it slipped from the counter. But you sighed dramatically and gave him a look of disappointment.

Dan Heng immediately grew a tail.

The absolute panic on his face made you bite back laughter. He glared at you, realizing what was happening.

"You’re doing this on purpose" he accused.

"Me?" You blinked innocently. "Never."

He narrowed his eyes. But his tail disappeared soon after.

Final Test: Sleeping Together

One night, as you prepared for bed, you hesitated before asking, “Is it okay if I hug you to sleep?”

Dan Heng didn’t answer right away. But after a long moment, he nodded.

You took it as permission and settled beside him, arms loosely wrapping around his waist. His body was warm—steady. For once, he wasn’t tense.

And then—

His dragon features faded entirely.

Dan Heng noticed immediately. “What?”

You pulled back slightly, staring at him. "You're… normal again."

His breath hitched slightly. He glanced down at himself—his hands, his reflection in the dim window. His horns, ears, tail—all gone.

Silence filled the room.

Then, in a low voice, he muttered, “…So I need you close to stay like this?”

That might be a problem. But you are still testing it out.

----

You’d caught Dan Heng using his water manipulation abilities more than once.

At first, it was small things—drying dishes without a towel, cooling his tea without ice, sneaking a splash into his bath without touching the faucet.

But then, he started abusing it.

One evening, you walked into the living room only to see the floor miraculously cleaning itself. A thin layer of water swept across the wooden panels, neatly gathering dust into a single puddle before disappearing entirely.

Dan Heng stood nearby, looking completely indifferent—as if he hadn’t just commanded the water like a personal cleaning tool.

You folded your arms. “Really?”

He didn’t even flinch. “It’s efficient.”

You squinted. “It’s lazy.”

He turned his head slightly, not denying it.

After that, he got sneakier. Whenever you weren’t looking, something would conveniently be cleaned, cooled, or wiped away.

You caught him again a few days later. This time, he vanished the evidence before you could properly scold him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he said flatly, even as the faintest ripple of water shimmered at his fingertips.

----

One day, you brought two friends home.

Caiyu—a friendly, outgoing woman with a sharp tongue, and Ren—a male friend who was, in your opinion, just a little too clingy.

Dan Heng immediately did not like him.

At first, he was quiet. Watching from the side. But every time Ren leaned in—too close, too casual—Dan Heng’s brows furrowed just a little deeper.

Then, one moment, Ren reached out, casually touching your shoulder. Not anything inappropriate—just a familiar gesture.

A chill ran through the air. Your tea, which had been warm seconds ago, suddenly turned ice cold.

You paused, frowning at the cup. “Huh…?”

Caiyu looked between you and Dan Heng, her eyes narrowing.

Ren, completely oblivious, continued talking.

Dan Heng didn’t say a word. But the next time Ren got too close, the humidity in the room mysteriously spiked.

Ren tugged at his collar. “Why is it so stuffy in here all of a sudden…?”

Caiyu, still watching, slowly smirked. “Oh, I think I know why.”

You, still oblivious, just nodded. “Yeah, weird weather today.”

Dan Heng, standing nearby, simply took a sip of his still-hot tea.

After Caiyu and Ren left, you finally turned your attention back to Dan Heng—only to pause.

The horns were back.

Sharp, translucent green, curling from his head like some majestic beast of legend. His ears had sharpened too, and there was something… tense about his posture.

“…You good?”

Dan Heng didn’t answer immediately.

“Do you always let others cling to you like that?”

“…Huh?”

“Ren.”

“What about him?”

Dan Heng exhaled slowly, as if holding something back.

You, still completely clueless, smirked. “What, are you jealous?”

That was meant to be a joke. But the way Dan Heng didn’t immediately deny it made your smirk waver.

…Wait.

Before you could press the topic further, a sudden movement caught your eye.

A cockroach.

Right there. On the floor. Near your foot.

“—GAH?!”

Panic shot through you instantly. Without thinking, you jumped onto Dan Heng, clinging to him with zero shame.

“GET RID OF IT!!!!!!” you yelped, burying your face into his shoulder.

You didn’t notice his reaction, too busy clutching onto him like your life depended on it. “Dan Heng, I swear to everything, if you let that thing crawl near me—”

He finally spoke. “…I will. On one condition.”

Your head snapped up. “What? What condition?”

Dan Heng’s gaze was unreadable, but his horns shimmered slightly under the light. His fingers ghosted over your back before settling at your waist.

“Stay like this a little longer.”

“…Excuse me?”

Dan Heng’s hold on you was firm but not forceful, his fingers pressing lightly at your waist like he was testing something. Meanwhile, the cockroach was still there.

“You heard me.” His voice was impossibly calm, but there was something else in it—something almost amused. “I’ll get rid of it. But you stay like this a little longer.”

You were about to argue, to call him out for using a life-threatening situation to his advantage—

Then the cockroach moved.

“…Fine.” You clung onto him harder, burying your face into his shoulder with zero dignity. “Just get rid of it already.”

Dan Heng exhaled, the sound low and satisfied. Then, with a simple flick of his fingers, a small stream of water shot toward the cockroach—blasting it out of sight.

You peeked out. “Did you drown it?”

“Something like that.”

“…Good enough.”

Now that the danger was gone, you relaxed—but for some reason, you didn’t pull away.

Dan Heng seemed to notice. “You’re still holding onto me.”

“…Shut up. I’m recovering.”

His chest rumbled with a quiet chuckle.

And that was when you finally realized the horns were gone. His dragon features had completely disappeared.

“…Wait.” You leaned back slightly, inspecting his now normal face. “Did they—disappear because of this?”

“Maybe.”

Something told you… he wouldn’t mind testing it out again.

---

The search for answers had been fruitless.

You had dragged Dan Heng to healers, scholars, and even underground doctors—yet not one of them could determine what that liquid was or why his dragon features kept appearing whenever he was displeased.

And so, when you heard whispers of a secret bidding event known to deal in rare, illicit goods, you knew it was your best shot.

Disguised in ordinary robes and masks, you and Dan Heng snuck into the venue—a dimly lit hall, buzzing with the low murmur of eager bidders. Items were displayed one by one on a grand stage, and men in luxurious garments raised their hands with absurdly high offers.

It was a strange, unsettling place.

And then—

You saw it. On the display, contained within a reinforced glass case, was a small vial. The liquid inside gleamed with an eerily familiar glow.

“That’s it!” you muttered. “That has to be what they injected into you.”

Dan Heng's gaze was locked onto the vial, his jaw tightening. You knew he recognized it too.

The auctioneer’s voice boomed through the hall.

"A special concoction from an unknown source. Its properties? A mystery! But I assure you, its effects are... fascinating. Let’s start the bidding!"

The first bid came instantly.

“300,000 credits!”

Your stomach dropped.

That was way too much.

Dan Heng turned to you, voice low. “How do you want to handle this?”

You already knew the answer.

You weren’t leaving without that vial.

There was no way you could win a bidding war against the wealthy elites here. The price was already skyrocketing, and you didn’t have that kind of money.

You turned to Dan Heng. “We’re stealing it.”

He nodded without hesitation. “I figured.”

The auction continued, the price climbing higher and higher, but you weren’t paying attention anymore. Instead, you were scanning the room, noting the positions of guards, escape routes, and blind spots.

One of you would create a distraction. The other would take the vial.

“Let me handle the distraction” Dan Heng murmured. “I can draw them away without getting caught.”

You weren’t sure about that.

He was strong, yes. But the whole reason you were here was to fix his condition—not make it worse.

“No” you decided. “I’ll do it. You grab the vial.”

Dan Heng’s brows furrowed, but before he could argue, the auctioneer slammed his gavel down.

“Sold for 850,000 credits!”

You inhaled sharply. It was time.

The moment the winner stepped forward to claim the vial, you moved. With a quick motion, you reached into your sleeve and tossed a smoke bomb onto the stage—

People shouted, some scrambling away while others drew their weapons. The guards rushed in, pushing through the panicked crowd

And in the cover of the smoke, Dan Heng struck.

By the time the haze began to clear, he was already at your side, the vial secured in his grip.

“We need to go.” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the nearest exit.

Guards were closing in.

But you weren’t worried.

You had what you came for.

Now, you just had to get out alive.

---

Pain.

That was the first thing you felt when consciousness returned.

Your entire body ached, and every breath felt like it scraped against raw wounds. You groaned, trying to move—

Only to feel a strong grip on your wrist.

Dan Heng was at your bedside, his expression eerily blank. But his eyes—his eyes told another story.

Shock. Relief. Unfiltered rage.

For the first time, you saw green scales creeping across his face. They shimmered under the dim light, spreading like cracks in a fragile mask. His normally sharp features were even sharper, his dragon-like horns fully visible.

“I thought you were dead.”

You blinked, still disoriented. “How long was I out?”

“Five days.”

Something had happened while you were unconscious.

Your surroundings were unfamiliar, but the faint smell of blood and burnt metal lingered in the air. Your wounds were bandaged, but you could tell the medical supplies used were not from a standard clinic.

“…Dan Heng. What did you do?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His fingers tightened around your wrist, as if reassuring himself that you were still there.

“I lost control.”

You knew what that meant.

The people from the auction house—the guards, the bidders—none of them stood a chance.

You had seen glimpses of his power before. But this?

This was different.

You reached up, your fingers grazing the scales on his cheek. He stiffened under your touch, but didn’t pull away.

“…I’m still here” you said softly.

“I thought I lost you. You don’t understand—I would’ve destroyed everything. I would’ve—”

You pressed a hand over his, grounding him.

“You didn’t.”

Dan Heng’s grip loosened slightly. His features, still twisted with emotions, slowly softened.

For a long moment, he simply stared at you. Then, as if needing further confirmation that you were alive, he pulled you into his arms.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his body trembling ever so slightly.

“…Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I won’t.”

You shifted slightly in his embrace, trying to adjust to the strange sensation against your skin. His scales pressed against your cheek as he held you even tighter.

"Dan Heng" you muttered, half-jokingly, "your scales are poking me."

To your surprise, he tightened his grip. His arms caged you in, his warm breath fanning against your neck.

“…Then endure it.”

His voice was quiet, almost sulky.

You sighed, but didn't protest. And soon enough—the sensation disappeared.

You pulled back slightly, noticing his features softening. His scales had faded away, his horns receding as if they’d never been there.

You blinked. So it really was connected to his emotions.

Still, you needed answers.

Later that day, you took a small sample of his scales—without him noticing—and sent it to a trusted friend in the field of alchemy and medicine.

The response came quickly: an antidote was possible.

But when you brought it up to Dan Heng—

"I don’t want it."

"You don’t even know what it does."

His gaze was steady. "It doesn’t matter. Everything as it is… is fine."

You felt the weight in his words. He wasn’t just talking about the scales—he was talking about you, about this, about the bond you both shared.

And as if the universe had heard him, the bond reappeared.

A faint glow flickered between you both—unseen by your eyes, but deeply felt.

Dan Heng dragged you into the kitchen, his grip firm yet careful.

“You need a proper meal” he said, his voice carrying no room for argument.

You sighed but let him. Things were tricky now—you couldn't stray too far from each other. If you did, the bond would start pulling you back, an invisible force tethering you together.

---

A group of strangers approached you outside, eyes filled with intentions you didn’t like. Dan Heng acted before you could, sending them flying with a single strike.

And just like that—the bond disappeared again.

You didn’t know what to make of it, but Dan Heng did.

That night, when you were fast asleep, he moved silently.

In his hand was a small vial—one he had secretly extracted from himself. With quiet precision, he used it on you.

Would you become like him? Would you be changed as he was?

He needed to know.

Nothing happened.

At least, not immediately.

Dan Heng watched you carefully the next day, but you looked fine. No horns, no scales, no tail. You were just... you.

Maybe it was different because of his origin. Maybe his bloodline couldn’t fully transfer to you. Or maybe it needed more time.

But one thing did change. You recovered unnaturally fast. The injuries that should’ve taken weeks to heal were already fading. And there was a downside—your temper.

You found yourself easily irritated, snapping at things you wouldn’t normally care about. The effect wore off soon, but Dan Heng took note of it.

Then, you felt it.

The slightest change.

Your ears—it was faint, but they weren’t the same. They twitched, sharper than before, more sensitive to sound.

No horns, no scales, but... you were just like him now.

And, of course—you would never know it was his doing.

Dan Heng watched as you slept, your breathing steady, your body finally adjusting.

It had taken time. More than he expected. The first dose had only changed your ears, but that wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

So he spent weeks—studying, gathering, experimenting.

And finally, he succeeded.

The last vial, carefully prepared, had worked exactly as he intended.

Your body had accepted it. Your features had shifted—not just the ears this time.

Under the moonlight, faint scales shimmered on your skin. Not as prominent as his, but there. A part of you now.

And with that change, the bond solidified.

No longer a fragile link. No longer something that could fade.

It was permanent.

Dan Heng exhaled, letting the weight of it settle in his chest. This was what he wanted. For you to be the same.

For you to never be able to leave.

And when your eyes fluttered open, you felt it too.

The connection. Stronger than ever. Binding you to him in ways you couldn’t yet understand.

Dan Heng offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his sharp, knowing gaze.

“Good morning.” he murmured.

You are his now.