Curtain Call

sunday with a singer! darling, one who had escaped from him almost seven years ago, and disappeared off the face of the galaxy. imagine his reaction when he gets word of a famous belobogian band on the radio soon after it’s connections to the IPC were restored, comprised of a woman named serval landau, and a *very* familiar young woman, with an even more familiar voice.

- (…could i be ✨ anon?)

Curtain Call

Yandere!Sunday x Reader

cw(s) : yandere, written before 2.2

wc : 2.6k

You have the power of democracy by your side ✨ anon and I have no choice but to adhere to public demand :] Even though you mentioned a female!reader, the direction of the narrative didn't necessitate that specification, so the reader is gender-neutral! But they have been called ‘babygirl’ once.

Sunday With A Singer! Darling, One Who Had Escaped From Him Almost Seven Years Ago, And Disappeared Off

“How can the bird that is born for joy

Sit in a cage and sing?”

— William Blake

You've avoided all shades of white and blue since the dawn of this day.

Serval regarded your pertinacity with a voiceless breadth of intrigue, before yielding with little to no resistance. A smidgen of guilt had briefly permeated your consciousness upon the vague shadow of a pout on her face, you recalled her enthusiasm passed through plans of matching outfits on your debutante from days now labeled as the near past. She picked herself up quickly though, her free-spirited ideals would not be compromised by some mere color choice.

It was difficult to not admire her. Lamentably, it is much easier to cradle the preachings of an unrestrained life than to actually act upon them — and by doing so, shouldering the frigid reality that came with such a life. As a child of frozen terrains although, frigidity must be Serval's playground, you eventually conclude. That is hardly the case for you, but you'd rather swallow whole chunks of ice than pin the blame on yourself alone for that apparent incapability.

You aren't at fault for your paranoia in embracing freedom, but you are resolved enough to try breaking away from its clutches. But just as tattoos sink deep beneath skin, that anxiety stubbornly clings to your psyche and the memories of the past nurture and allow it to fester. Which is why, you must avoid any shades of white and blue, at least until the dawn of tomorrow graces Belobog. Be it a superstition with no rational ground or scientific explanation, you decide to believe firmly in your gut.

The walls of the makeshift back-room muffle the chorus of the crowd outside, but it is enough to comfort you that your long held wish did come true. The single light bulb hanging beyond the door of the room serves as the sole source of luminescence, although it is barely helpful, the light bounces off from your back and reflects a scarcely tangible silhouette in the mirror of the dressing table. Glitters of dust floating around are illuminated by that light, abandoned furniture peek beneath their veils from your peripheral — they exclaim what this room's previous purpose had been.

Neither the modest setting nor the small trinkets spread across the dressing table come close to what you had a taste of ; glimmering surfaces, brands of beauty products worth a man's life savings and silks of no contender would mock this shack, if they could. But your heart soaks in solace whenever that irritatingly bright light flickers and mellowed cheers of the crowd permeate the room's thin walls, not because you lack taste in life, but because you recognize the futility of vanity.

“You did amazing there, babygirl!”

Your vision stutters at the impact of firm touch, you feel arms rest atop your decolletage, a shadow cloaks your reflection in the mirror. The cool touch of metal upon your left shoulder and a distinct streak of blue masquerading among blond locks of hair draw out a breath of relief from your lungs. But a faint twist engulfs your gut the very next second, you recall asking for a moment of quietude vividly.

“I don't think my performance was as great as you say, Serval. And whatever I achieved, it wouldn't have been possible without you guys.” your fingers twiddle with your sleeves, your eyes find interest in an abandoned nail polish.

You peek up in time to meet the rockstar's stare through the mirror, with some wrestling with the light, her disapproval shines through to your eyes.

“Nonsense, you were the star of today's show. Give yourself some credit, would ya?” your cheek soaks in the pinch before your brain can decode her words, you muffle a whine in protest.

“Okay, okay! I'm sorry.” your hand quickly soothes over the tempered skin when her fingers retreat, that's the extent of ‘retaliation’ you offer Serval, having accustomed yourself to her spontaneity in the interim of your stay under her care.

“I saw you look... pretty unnerved after the performance, so I came to check.” you scratch your cheek, eyes darting upwards to find her face shielded by your hair. You cannot pinpoint why, but for a second it seemed like she struggled to find footing with her phrasing of words. You've never heard her falter, at least in speech, but the waves of conversation swallow that momentary observation just as quickly.

Instead of being candid, you take a different turn, “You know, I wasn't lying about being grateful to you all. To perform on a stage without any rules was a long held dream of mine,” you feel gooseflesh bloom across your arms as tip-toeing touch descends to your sides, something within tempts you to curl in on yourself but you force your breath to finish. “If it hadn't been for your help, I would never succeed in fulfilling it.”

Serval hums in understanding, the timbres of it traverses from your skull and extends to your nerves. Her arms rest snuggly around your waist and you swallow dryly. Serval always wrapped her arms around your shoulders whenever she felt the need to and the fact that it made your head nearly spiral with questions didn't require to be stated. Only now do you reckon the slumbering atmosphere, without the jeer and cheer of the audience, you felt Belobog's cold biting into the tips of your fingers. You told everyone to not disturb you — your mind echoes without clarification.

“Is it because of that husband of yours?”

Your shoulders tense and for a litany of reasons, most obscure enough to be dismissed as misnomers produced by your instincts, none but one potent enough to be addressed. “Well yes… I told you about a man, but I don't remember specifying that it was a ‘husband’ responsible for my situation.”

Your words materialize as half confused and half laden with caution, you'd told Serval a few things about your predicament — nothing groundbreakingly detailed, just enough to earn a portion of her empathy. It kills you to follow tactics that enticed you to your doom, but what is life, if not a series of trial and error? It's best to apply the teachings of a manipulator than to continue being manipulated for eternity. But of course, you'll admit, such carefully taken steps still don't lessen the likelihood of meeting a dead-end to zero. How unfortunate.

It's Serval's turn to tense, but it's so quick you're left questioning whether it really happened. “Ah, but there was a ring on your right ring finger when you first came here! And the ‘man’ in your stories didn't seem to be different persons. So, I took a guess…”

An awkward chuckle leaves the rockstar's lips and you blink. She's right, you were still wearing your wedding ring when you came here ; an amateur mistake, you should've left it at some abstruse corner of the Dewlight Pavilion. You glance up at your reflections on the mirror, Serval was now mimicking your previous antics, a painted nail against her cheek albeit, the opposing light veiled her expression from recognition. One of her arms was still around your waist, loosely this time.

“I didn't say anything offending, did I?” the mechanic mutters tentatively. You take a deep breath and exhale, vacillating between the multitude of scenarios conjured by your lingering paranoia. But if it's Serval, you give it more thought, there was no tangible reason as to why she of all people would bring this up with malicious intent — or at least, none that you could come up with. She was likely merely concerned for your well-being, a big sister's instincts perhaps.

“Not at all,” the three words are uttered with more difficulty than needed but the effort is proved worth it when she relaxes and returns to embrace you with gusto.

This time you can feel her touch vividly across the bare skin of your midriff, a reminder of your present dress up automatically causes blood to rush to your face. The matching crop-top with Serval was hardly the most revealing thing someone had worn in this universe, but it was the boldest you'd been with your attire. You think you saw her gaze tilting at the sight but the only way to affirm it would make things further awkward. As you melt upon recalling that you'd sung your lungs out with this on in front of a crowd, the rockstar chimes in again.

“Ah right, I almost forgot why I actually came here. I have a gift for you!” you blink out of your stupor to hear shuffles, a bottle of hairspray is knocked to the ground due to her movements. The object clamors down and rolls a few feet away but Serval pays it no attention, you quirk a brow at her sudden briskness. “Close your eyes.” she lulls sweetly, you obey despite your state of disorientation.

You feel the faint brushes of her fingers first, then a noticeable weight around your neck, fastened a little too tightly. After she beckons you to open your eyes, you scrutinize the object through your reflection on the mirror and recognize it to be… a choker. It's heavier than what you recall chokers to be, its body is painted in baby blue and when you turn your head the light bounces off its surface to reveal golden outlinings. Three small wings curl around the white tassel hanging from the middle, you find the wings to be unnervingly soft when your fingers brush across them.

The choker looked expensive, despite its somewhat gaudy appearance and it didn't seem like something aligning with Serval's tastes. But most importantly, there's blue and white in it — the two colors you'd been stubbornly avoiding. Your mind spirals, you clearly remember telling Serval that you didn't want to see those two colors today — or, did you? Perhaps it was your mind weaving its own narratives in the flurry of adrenaline? A chill rears its grotesque head, a panic you can't quite push down despite your mind adapting to give her the benefit of the doubt, your breaths lapse unevenly.

“For being such a darling member of Mechanical Fever, a token of our friendship. I didn't know how else to thank you, so I got this instead.” Serval's voice yanks you from the edge of a panic attack, you force yourself to breathe deeply. You turn around when you notice the absence of her shadow, finding her retreating into the shadow of the half ajar door.

You remain seated on the juncture between light and shadow, returning to face the mirror after the rockstar settles on a stool. “I should be the one saying that and… you didn't have to give me this, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless.” your thumb and index fingers twiddle with the pure white tassel.

Her words seem to make you forget about your earlier paranoia, nostalgia cascades down your soul as you recall the fond memories inherent to Belobog. Destiny's game is truly difficult to comprehend, to think you'd find an actual home so far from your supposed one.

You add without waiting for her reply, “When I first came here, I was so scared and paranoid. I couldn't sleep the first night and I wanted nothing more than to flee the next morning. I really mean it when I say I couldn't make it without your and the others' help.”

Your palm cradles the beat of your existence, the thin fabric of the crop top does little to muffle your heart's clamorous prance.

“Thank you, thank you so much for everything.” your pour as much gratitude from the river coursing through the recesses of your soul in those words. Your chest constricts as you sigh, you remember all the faces that are now known as familiar and random instances buried deep in your memories. Perhaps it's the naturally cold weather of this planet that plays a part, but you furrow your brows as inexplicable sorrow engulfs your heart.

“I, too, hope that you've had a wonderful experience on this planet.”

A much younger you used to judge the victims of stories for choosing to freeze than to flee in the face of candid danger, vowing to not follow in their footsteps should you meet such a predicament one day. Your heart would shatter to incorrigible bits if it hadn't been so viciously twisted, you realize how futile promises are at the thin line separating life and death.

Your body flinches from its hunched position to meet watchful golden eyes, shielded by the door's shadow. You blink a multitude of times, as if that'd make his poised presence disappear, as if that'd affirm that you were simply in the grips of anxiety and Serval would return to reprimand you back to reality.

The warmth drains from your body when he's still there, sitting in front of you with a mocking serenity — you've never hated the vice grip he maintains on his composure more than this moment. Why, how, when and what conjoins his name to frame a myriad of questions, each being answered by none other than you the very next second. Your ears twitch when you catch voices at the end of the hallway, the actual Serval and others must be retreating. You might be a deer inches away from the tiger's jaw, but you'll not go down without a fight, at least.

“If you're planning to scream, I'd advise against that.” Sunday calmly states, your breath catches in your throat. “The choker on your neck has a shock mechanism and it can be activated in various ways. Namely, any time you raise your voice above the coded decibels and the voltage will increase the louder you scream.”

Your hand flies upwards towards the cursed choker and you wrestle a breath in disbelief, you were made a fool of and quite exquisitely. You realize you should've listened to your gut instincts when you still had the choice. Sunday raises a gloved palm when you restlessly tug at the thing, “Don’t bother, it can only be taken off with a password.”

A password only he knows, you conclude. It was not news to you that his sanity is loose from the hinges of his soul, but never would you have expected him to go this far. You glare at your husband, though it looks more like a gazelle's helpless stare as it struggles in the jaws of a predator. The voices from the hallway disappear entirely, you'd told them not to look for you so they'll not return, you feel your eyes moisten as you realize you're stuck alone with Sunday.

“Why—” you choke.

“I understand that you must have a lot of questions,” his words are half resignation and half cheap empathy. “But it is not your turn to speak, for there are more pressing matters at hand.”

Sunday stands up, brows scrunching at the dust floating around the room. “The matter of your possible unfaithfulness is one thing,” his hand grips the handle of the door and you flinch. “But performing in front of so many people without any consideration of how far it'll spread, or choice of attire,” your body erupts in shudders upon feeling his pointed stare, the expanse of your exposure finally registering.

“Truly unbefitting of my spouse.”

But it's not his judging gaze that has your nerves frayed, it's the hints of genuine disappointment that borders on anger leaking through his words that makes you feel parched, makes you want the earth split in half and take you from this situation. Your experience with Sunday has taught you that he has the patience of a saint, but none of those memories reassure you that it's boundless. You realize that you've never actually seen his face contorted in ire, no matter how defiant you'd been. Aeons, you wish it stayed that way forever.

As the shadow of the closing door engulfs your form and leaves the rest to interpretation, the last thing you see are his darkened golden eyes — you're certain that, that was the instance the last spirited part of you died.

rest in peace i guess

More Posts from Klemen-time and Others

klemen-time

1 year ago

PROMISCUOUS BOY

prompt: your next-door neighbour keeps bringing hookups one night after other disturbing your precious sleep. exhausted, you decide to write a letter venting all your frustrations — not expecting that in the middle of all this it would reach it recipient.

pairing: blade, jing yuan x fem! reader

cw: scenario format, modern au, slightly ooc to fit the plot, suggestive themes, mentions of sex, flirt, not beta-read

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Dear apt 502’ neighbour, I understand that starting a letter with "dear" may sound a bit old-fashioned and ridiculous when I don't even know you, but I hope you take in consideration my romantic spirit as a passionate literature student and will overlook this fact. That said, the reason why we’ve never met is mainly based on the times when I leave and get home. You see, I'm in my last year of a master's degree and the university has been charging all my time and dedication, so I barely have time to take care of myself other than to fall into bed and sleep. But lately, in the late hours of the night, I’ve had my rest interrupted at the only moment when my mind should find peace. And I swear, I've tried to use all possible methods to prevent the noise from affecting me but it has been increasingly difficult. Far be it for me to look for trouble because of someone else sex' life, no. I'd rather say good for you instead. But would it be nice of you to fuck your bitches without breaking my wall in the process? I can deal with their horrible moans, but definitely not with my damaged apartment. Be that as it may, I wish you the best intentions. Your apt 503’ neighbour

Blade

Oh, how you hated your neighbour. You hated him so much.

There were few people who achieved such a feat since you were the most patient and easygoing person to ever exist. Not even your Languages and Cultures II’ partner who was extremely irresponsible or your idiot ex-boyfriend who still didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word break-up were able to get out of you a feeling as negative as hate. But, well, for everything in this life there was a first time, and your not-so-dear-neighbour was getting the upper hand.

When you wrote the letter on one of the dozens of nights in which his nocturnal activities seemed to be more important than other people's rest, you didn't expect a few days later for it to disappear from your desk where it belonged, much less for your friendly doorman to confirm your worst nightmare: all the mail for the week had already been sent.

What was supposed to be a joke turned into more days and nights of stress and you even considered writing him a second letter explaining that it was all just a misunderstanding and that the cracks in your wall weren't that important after all. However, when a week passed and your next-door neighbour's sexual activities began to last until the next morning, you understood that he was deliberately mocking you and, consequently, declaring war.

Now take a good look. You were a person known for your poise and calmness in overcoming challenges despite so much pressure, so it was expected that it’d be no different this time. Except it was. Because not even the calm and composure that the gods gave you could help you ignore the terrible moans in the next room, and the investment you put into that apartment was too high to let it go unnoticed.

And so, at 7:05 am on a Sunday morning, you found yourself in front of apartment 502' door knocking continuously on it as you waited not so patiently the willingness of your neighbour to finish his fuck and attend you. How a person managed to have so much sex drive was beyond your understanding, but perhaps this was due to the fact that your neighbour was an old and lonely man who must have found pleasure in the company of women only at night. Yes, that was a plausible reason.

In the end, you spent at least five minutes abusing the door’s wood without stopping. And just as you prepared to knock once more, it suddenly opened and the man who had tormented you all your nights had finally revealed himself.

Your impressions: Well, old he certainly was. Lonely? Hard to say. Now, unfairly hot and attractive? Unexpectedly yes.

When you came to your senses, you and the half-naked man spent a long time staring at each other in silence, absorbing each other's characteristics. You were clearly affected by his beauty and he was clearly irritated by your presence.

"Are you going to stare at me all the way, or are you going to say what you want?"

You blinked once, twice, three times until his words hit you, making you visibly red with embarrassment. How rude!

"First, good morning to you too," you said venomously, "Second, didn’t you read the letter, no? What part of not breaking the wall didn’t you get?"

The man seemed to take your words into consideration for a few seconds before a sneer appeared on his lips and his eyes narrowed in amusement. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his bare, scarred chest, making him more attractive than he already was.

"I don't see how this is up to you alone. After all, the wall is as much yours as it’s mine," he says and you open your mouth in shock.

"Excuse me? How can I not when it’s my side that is being damaged the most!"

"Then you better start looking for a bricklayer."

Gods, this man was impossible! You already knew that you hated him for a very insignificant reason, but now you were sure that he was more detestable than he let on. And the fact that he counts your arguments with that purposeful blank expression infuriated you even more.

"Unbelievable. Not only can't I keep my apartment intact, but I also have to spend sleepless nights because of the noise too."

"If the noise bothers you so much you can always come and join in," your neighbour offers with a small smirk, but the devilish glow that radiated from his crimson iris didn’t hide the true meaning behind his words.

Too embarrassed and disconcerted to continue the argument with the man, you angrily return to your house, slamming the door aggressively and containing the scream of frustration that bubbled in your chest.

Yingxing in turn couldn't help but think that you had a nice ass, and that annoy you was even better than he thought.

Jing Yuan

Two whole days looking for the letter all over your apartment took you to the most advanced stage of despair. Even though you had already ransacked your living room from floor to ceiling more times you could remember, messing up your kitchen and bedroom in the process, you still hadn't found a single trace of the piece of paper. And even though a part of you already knew that there was a high chance that the letter had been mixed in with the other correspondences and had been forwarded to its intended recipient, you'd rather have a hole in the ground swallow you than consider the only plausible option.

Even so, now here you found yourself: in front of the apartment 502’ door with a courage and pride that wasn't yours, sweat running down your spine and the dread of finally coming face to face with the man who not only ruined your last nights sleep, but who could very well ruin your social life too. God, just thinking that he could be a troublemaker and report you to the police, tarnishing your criminal record and your reputation as a good neighbor made you sick to your stomach.

But there was no other alternative. You had to make sure he hadn't opened the letter, or, in the worst case, consider not bringing this humiliation to the public.

So, minutes after knocking on the door, you were finally greeted by the resident of apartment 502 who, for much your surprise (or much delight) was wearing nothing but a bath towel with the steam's traces still emanating from his pale, wet skin. It suddenly became very clear to you why all those dozens of women made sure to scream “Oh, Jing Yuan!” every time they reached an orgasm.

"May I help you?"

Yeah. Fucking kill me, you wanted to answer.

The words you had practiced so much seemed to have escaped your brain and a familiar heat burned your cheeks. The embarrassment was huge, but you had already come this far and there was no going back. You only wished your neighbour wasn't this attractive, though.

"Hi. Good evening, sir. I’m your nextdoor neighbour and I wanted to know if by any chance you received a letter signed in my name", you stuttered so fast that you feared you’d have to repeat the sentence all over again since Jing Yuan didn’t seem to express any reaction for a few seconds.

As the realization hit him, though, a faint gleam of amusement crossed his golden irises and mortification hit you like a bolt of lightning.

Oh shit. He had read the letter.

"Just a moment, my lady", Jing Yuan said with a playful smile on his lips and entered his apartment for a few seconds, returning shortly afterwards with the well-known envelope in hand.

He held out the letter and you trembled as you finally picked it.

"I can tell that this was not a letter intended to be sent, right?"

"No, it wasn't. And I'm so sorry for causing you so much trouble! God, what a humiliation! Now would be a great time to die", you pleaded into the void and your handsome neighbour laughed in response.

"It’s alright. You know, it's the first time I've received a letter from such a beautiful lady, although the content was definitely not what I expected", he said contemplatively crossing his huge arms on his huge chest. You looked away feeling more embarrassed, "Nevertheless, I also apologize for my lack of attention. I’ll be more considerate from now on."

If only it could get any worse. Here he was apologizing for having a healthy sex life when you should probably be doing the same. Having sex not apologizing, of course.

Fearing that if you said anything else your words would come out more clumsy than the erratic beating of your heart, you forced a smile to your neighbour who was now looking at you intensely in slight amusement. And realizing that if you stared back at the man for too long your role as a fool would only get worse, you came up with a quick excuse to escape from there and back to your apartment. Maybe your next letter would be a goodbye to the world because you refuse to leave your home from now on.

"Thank you for your attention and again I apologize for the confusion, Mr. Jing Yuan. It was great meeting you, really, but I need to go so have a good night and don’t mind me anymore," you bow quickly and respectfully as your face burned in red, and stumble on wobbly legs back to your door.

However, before you could enter your house due to fumbling with the wrong keys for the lock, Jing Yuan let out a light laugh and replied: “It was my pleasure to meet you, Miss Neighbour. Although, I must say that I would like to keep hearing more from you from now. This time, in person, of course."

Needless to say you entered your apartment at lightning speed vowing never to exit it again, leaving behind a very good-humored Jing Yuan.

How delightful to know that you already knew his name before he even needed to introduce himself, huh.

Tags

hsr honkai star rail honkai star rail x reader jing yuan x reader hsr x reader jing yuan blade blade x reader this is pretty funny

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klemen-time

9 months ago

YOU ARE NOT SELFISH‼️

Vetted by : @sar-soor @communistchilchuck @90-ghost

and, this is a legitimate campaign. It's #174 on the list of fundraisers that have been verified by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi .

Support a Family from Gaza During the War 🙏

Important 💢

Dear Friends,👋

My name is Ahmed Alanqer, and I live in Gaza with my wife Dina Almnasra and our four children. The war has destroyed our lives and made us live in constant fear. I have lost many family members, my life, my university, and my dearest loved ones. I don't know if I will survive or not. I fear becoming just a number in this long war, and I fear dying without meaning.

I accept death in Gaza, but I cannot bear to see what remains of my family die in front of me. We desperately need financial assistance to leave Gaza and protect my family.

Recently, Donations to our campaign have stopped, and I don't know why. I know many have stopped supporting Palestine due to the prolonged war, but please do not forget us. We ask you to share our story with your friends.

Every contribution, comment and donate can make a big difference.

gofundme.com

Donate to Helping Ahmed's Family: Escaping War to a New Life, organized by Abdallah Alanqar

Hello,, I'm Abdallah Alanqar, originally from Palestine but cu… Abdallah Alanqar needs your support for Helping Ahmed's Family: Escaping

Please contribute through our donation campaign link: https://gofund.me/35c30c67

Thank you for your support and prayers.Sincerely,🙏

@communistchilchuck @palipunk @fairuzfan @vakarians-babe @90-ghost @nabulsi @appsa @aria-ashryver @aces-and-angels @sayruq @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @ibtisams-blog @sar-soor @el-shab-hussein @elierlick @feluka @northgazaupdates @buttercupagere @palms-upturned @blackpearlblast

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klemen-time

1 year ago

Sono io o sei tu? Sono io o sei tu!?

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: DARK CONTENT, Broken English, Yandere Undertones, Toxic Relationship, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Gender Neutral Reader, Obsession, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! Please if you like my work don't forget to reblog/interact with me♡ Minors, ageless, blank blogs, and silent readers will get blocked if interact with me. ➳ Pair: Dan Heng x Reader (Honkai Star Rail) Words Count: 476 Title comes from the song Nato sbagliato.

⤠ Yandere Hcs (Sampo) ⤟ HSR Masterlist ⤠ Cercavo amore ma alla fine... (Luocha) ⤟

Something little to little for my baby Dan Heng, I'm so sorry that this is so short LMAO but unfortunately my motivation from writing is going 📉📉

Memories from the past were confusing and distorted. From a past that wasn’t his, that wasn’t of Dan Heng.

He could remember a smile, a laugh, and this intense, strong emotion of need, of wanting. But what exactly? Who was the one laughing, smiling? No matter how much Dan Heng tried, he couldn’t remember. Not a name, not even a face.

But Dan Heng didn’t think too much about it in the end; whoever was this important and loved person was probably dead or, if they weren't, at this time they probably got a new life where he isn’t needed anymore. And plus, he is now Dan Heng. A new person, a new life, so it would be best to just avoid them.

Who was before it’s long dead and forgotten. It’s been too long now. He had to go on.

However, walking around the Xianzhou Luofu was a bad idea, it brought out memories that he desperately tried to forget. He made him feel so nostalgic, nostalgic of a place that no longer was his place to be. That wasn’t the true home of Dan Heng.

He understood fully that he made a mistake when he saw you between others, simply strolling around, maybe even just buying groceries. No matter how much Dan Heng tried, he couldn’t look away. Something deep, deep inside him didn’t make it possible. He was like frozen in place.

You two make eye contact just once, for a few seconds before Dan Heng finds himself able to move again and gets away, running like a coward. He refused, from that day forward, to go back to the Xianzhou Luofu no matter what he had to do or what his friends asked, he wasn’t going to go back to that ship. He knew that, if he did, he would run up back to you even if he didn’t know why or who you were.

But, much to his dismay, you were all he could think about; your eyes, your hair, your figure even, everything felt so familiar, so right. Dan Heng knew he was running away like a coward, his desperation getting stronger and stronger by the day and he couldn’t ignore it any more like he used to. His turmoil doesn't get unnoticed by his friends, but when asked Dan Heng insists that everything is fine, nothing is happening, and to not worry about him. Of course they didnt believe him, but they didnt question further what was going on, hoping to see him opening it up sooner than later.

But he won’t.

Not when Dan Heng has no idea how to explain what its happening to him, unsure about what's happening to him too. He just knows he must search for you and find you and bring you back to him, where you deserve to be, where you needed to be.

This work belongs to @/alj0saray, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡

↳˗ˏˋTaglistˊˎ˗ ↴ none. want to be added to my taglist? Please check here! Feel free to send some feedback about it🤍

Tags

hsr x reader yandere hsr dan heng x reader dan heng x you yandere dan heng yandere dan heng x reader

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klemen-time

1 year ago

＃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.

Tags

tw stalking yandere x reader yandere hsr x reader yandere hsr tw yandere tw obsessive behavior tw overprotectiveness yandere blade yandere blade x reader yandere honkai star rail yandere honkai star rail x reader yandere headcanons yandere drabble yandere imagines overprotective yandere devoted yandere male yandere soft yandere

355 notes View Post

klemen-time

1 year ago

don’t stop talking about what’s happening

Tags

free gaza free palestine ceasefire

43K notes View Post

klemen-time

6 months ago

yoo joonghyuks biggest tragedy isn't the regressions or the endless suffering its the fact that everyone sees him and thinks woah what an intimidating badass and treats him accordingly when really all he needs is someone to see him and think wow what a fucking pathetic loser this guy needs a pat on the head and a glass of warm milk

733 notes View Post

klemen-time

1 year ago

”But blade wouldn’t be a good comforter 🥺🥺🥺”

HE CAN LISTEN. GIMME MY COMFORT/FLUFFY BLADE FICS PLS IM DESPERATE FOR FLUFFY BLADE FICS. I’ve been searching for so long man 🥹🥹🥹

Tags

hsr honkai star rail blade honkai star rail blade hsr blade blade x reader Blade is genuinely nice if he wants to be He's so mischaracterized

54 notes View Post

klemen-time

1 year ago

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬! 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬!....𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬...

synopsis: drunk bouncer gallagher starts getting a little too turnt at the club you’re in on penacony….

tags: food play, body shots, alcohol implications and heavy mentions, explicit, vulgar, suggestive, handjob, exhibitionism

wrd cnt: 730+

a/n: (click the title for a song) this song got me through this fic LMAO i hope the vibes matched because that’s what I was going for, but anyways enjoy!!!! ( art from choco_uncle on twt)!

You could feel the music thumbing under your feet, your skins and everyone else’s in the club endourned with various colors and shines of brilliance. A rather tall and muscular man stood at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. You couldn’t help but notice how different he was now that he got some drinks in his system, that hard ass almost didn’t let you and your friends in.

He had already downed a few shots and was feeling the effects, his head was spinning, and his inhibitions were lowered. It seemed like he was just letting anyone in now. But he couldn't help but notice you staring at him across the room, chatting with your friends and glancing toward him every now and then.

Gallagher's eyes followed yours as he walked his way over to the bar, ordering a round of shots for you and your friends.

As you clinked glasses and downed the liquor, you caught Gallagher's eye and gave him a flirty smile. It was all he needed. He quickly made his way over to her, his steps a little unsteady.  “Having a good time, dear?” he asked, leaning down and close to your ear so you could hear him over the loud music.  You nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Definitely. Want to join us for another round?”

He smirked at your invitation, signaling the bartender for another round of shots, on him.

He handed them out to you and your friends, keeping one for himself.

He watched with hungry eyes as you sucked salt off his thumb, took the shot, and then let him squeeze lime into your mouth from above.

“What a good girl” he praised, giving your ass a playful smack and chuckling as the people around you yelled and hyped you up.

His mind couldn't help but wonder how your lip would look around something else of his.

Taking a gulp of his own shot, Gallagher slammed the empty glass on the table and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him. “Up for some fun?”

The partygoers around you cheered and whistled, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

You’re not one to fall for peer pressure, but you definitely didn’t want to stop now.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you couldn't resist the temptation of being so close to Gallagher, it felt so excitingly good. You nodded after the support of your friend group pushing you into him as he led you to a nearby couch and laid you down on it. His hands gripping your waist and legs to make you sit down.

Gallagher poured tequila on the little cup of your collarbone, sipping the booze and then licking up the spilled drops, finishing it with a wet kiss to your neck; causing shivers to run down your spine. He took the lime and placed it between your lips before taking it in his own mouth and sucking on it sensually, eyes locked into yours.

Everyone screamed around you, watching the both of you create enough tension for everyone to feel.

Next, he grabbed a shot glass filled with more liquid courage, and pushed you back down on the couch before placed the small glass between your breast in the deep v cut dress you wore, and leaned down to take the shot with his mouth, his tongue gliding all the way up from your sternum, to inbetween your breasts to pick up the salt, and up to your chin, making you throw your head back into the cushion with his hand holding a fistful of your hair, the other under you’re arching waist.

The sensation sent a jolt of desire through you, and you couldn't help but let out a playful moan. “You’re so tasty”, you hear against your ear.   The crowd around you two erupted in applause as Gallagher continued the body shots, trailing his mouth down your body, stopping at various erogenous zones along the way. What really sent you over was when he finished, pulling you into his lap and whispering, “You enjoy that?”, he asked with a smirk.

“Mmhm” You respond, grabbing a bottle of baileys and pouring it into his mouth. You could feel his hard cock under your ass, and he could definitely feel you grinding on it, hoping no one notices. But no one was really paying attention, it was barely noticeable, right? No one could see you making out with the bouncer and fisting his cock, right?

As the shots and alcohol flowed, your inhibitions disappeared, and your passion ignited.   With the loud music and the party atmosphere, it was easy for Gallagher and you to get lost in the moment. As the night went on, you continued to indulge in each other, your bodies moving in perfect sync on the dance floor, bumping against each other through the beat; feeling his now even harder brick against you as you grinded back into him, his arm snaked around your waist from behind.

It would definitely be much easier to get into the club now…

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

Tags

hsr honkai star rail honkai hsr smut honkai sr as always honkai star rail smut hsr gallagher gallagher smut gallagher gallagher hsr jo’s posts very well written

272 notes View Post

klemen-time

8 months ago

ahhh so true!! i absolutely despise the male fanbase!!! howis it fair that they get to sexualize every female character…yet the moment a girl shows slight appreciation for a male character, they treat it like its the end of the world…and honestly, the male fanbase just seems really depraved and sleazy with such crude comments…

The way they admire female characters makes me uncomfortable… like they don't care about female characters's personality traits and potential, core, but just because they can be creampied in hentai… they would be seen in public gaming communities (including many minor members) post some sexually suggestive fanart, such as female characters licking popsicles, competing and jealous for Traveler, stepping on them, etc.

Their desires are exposed to almost all public spheres and require no warning. But at the same time, some incel players suppress others' desire to like male characters. If someone wants a male character, genshin is the "gayshit impact". This pretty much mirrors real-life attitudes toward desire. Male desires are normal, desires of other groups are shameful.