Klemen-time - Elysia ♡

DAN FENG - Tethering The Sky and Reaching For Heaven

ꜱᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ 『honkai: star rail』dan feng/imbibitor lunae/yinyue jun (ugh can he stop having so many names??? it makes tagging a complete nightmare) x gn!reader

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ parting ways with silly dragon guy before he reincarnates and dies idk idgaf abt his backstory 👍👍👍

𑁍 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.0k

ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ surprise!!!! yet another short fanfic abt a long haired man! anyways happy early 1.3! i wish everyone a very e6 lynx and good luck on whoever you’re pulling for. ALSO HOW TF DO YOU DO CHINESE DIMINUTIVES/HONOURIFICS IN X READER FICS??? 阿Y/N???? OR MAYBE IN PINYIN??? a’y/n or ah’y/n??? OR WOULD IT BE LIKE 阿[the first character of your name] LMFAO

“What do you mean ‘you’re leaving?’ Where are you going?” You ask, taking a step closer to him, trying in vain to figure him out.

“We won’t see each other again. I’ve… done something horrible.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“…It’s not our main concern as of now. I’m sure my punishment will come for me soon. I don’t know how much time I have left with you.”

“Okay, what’s going on? I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll understand soon. I’d just like to spend one final moment with you.” Dan Feng grabs ahold of your hands, his grip almost painful as his fingers lock with yours.

“Are you… You don’t love me anymore?” A thousand thoughts rush through your head, yet none of them makes sense. “Do you want to see other people?”

“No, no, no. Of course not. That’s not what I meant. I meant that…” He pauses, concentrating. “We don’t have much time left.”

“But what does that-“

“Forget it. Would you just follow me, 心肝? Humour me. Please.” Your eyebrows furrow at the odd hypocorism. Before you can answer him, Dan Feng is leading you towards the dock. Bright yellow ginkgo leaves drift down from the sky, signalling a change in the year as they fall. There’s a scent in the early autumn air, and it reeks of… gloom; fraught with melancholy and a lingering anxiety that seems to cling to you. It whispers into your ear sweet serenades, singing a cacophony of incoming danger. The signal of change grows to a warning.

“Why are we heading towards the water?”

“Please, 亲爱的. Do not question me right now. Just… let us have a simple conversation. Would that be alright?” He sighs as the two of you exit the main area of the Alchemy Commission.

“I guess… You’re acting weird, you know that?” you sigh. “How was your day?”

“Great. And yours?” He answers a little too quickly.

“It’d be better if I knew what was happening.” Dan Feng turns his head to look back at you, a million words he wants to say are hidden behind his watery eyes.

Your shoe gets stuck in a crack in the stone walkway as you’re busy staring at him. You stop to pull it out but Dan Feng yanks on you, your shoe slipping off of your foot as he continues walking.

“Hey, wait! 枫仔! My shoe!” He doesn’t let go, his hand shaking in yours with a sense of urgency. “How am I supposed to walk without it?” You hop on a single foot, trying to keep up with his pace. In response, he picks you up into a bridal carry, cradling you like a parent would for their child.

“O-oh. Uh… okay. I guess I don’t mind…” You look up at his trembling jaw. Whatever’s going on, it must be very important to Dan Feng. If only he’d spit it out already so that you could offer your comfort. But the most you can offer right now is a small kiss. You bring your head up, pressing your lips against his cheek before resting your head back down on his forearm. The display of affection causes Dan Feng to stop in his tracks, but he quickly starts walking again.

“I...” He clears his throat, a light blush blossoming on his face. “That… means a lot to me right now. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could offer you, 枫仔. You look so sad… Tell me what’s wrong.” He looks towards the horizon and the setting sun, a forlorn expression painting his face. The shadows of the evening light leave him looking especially somber. For a moment, he wants to tell you the whole truth. But he holds himself back to spare your feelings.

“I’m going somewhere. And… I won’t be returning. I am sorry, [name]. Truly. I do not wish to part ways but…” He looks down at you. A tear drips off of his face and onto yours. “There is nothing to be done about it. I… wouldn’t have done it if I realized the consequences sooner.”

“You’re… not joking. Would you tell me where you’re going? And when? Why are you being so vague?” You still couldn’t grasp the concept.

“亲爱的，you would hate me if I told you the whole truth. I could not leave knowing that you despised me. But… I’m sure you’ll find out soon when the news gets out.” Dan Feng looks back up towards the sky. You follow his gaze towards a few clouds that are coloured a hue of red from the sunset.

“I love you dearly. I apologize… I have forgone our future and forsaken you. Please remember me as someone you loved, and not a traitor to the Luofu.”

“Er… okay…? You’re really leaving?”

“Yes, I am afraid so…”

“…I love you too. Wherever you’re going, don’t forget that, okay? I… I really can’t believe it. I’m not gonna see you again. Ever…? Will you come visit me?”

“That is not possible, I fear. Though I wish more than anything that I could.”

The two of you reach the harbour. Dan Feng sets you down on the wooden planks and takes a seat beside you, dipping his legs into the water.

“Your pants are gonna be soaked, 笨蛋!”

“I am aware of that fact.” He pays you no mind, looking on into the horizon again. You gently hold is hand in yours.

“This… this is it? The last time I’ll see you? And we’re just… staring at nothing in complete silence?”

“You are speaking right now, [name].”

“What did you even do?” He glances at you. But as you make eye contact, he can’t seem to look away.

“…What are you doing?”

“You ask so many questions, 亲亲. I prefer it when you’re asleep. You’re much cuter in bed, too.” Dan Feng lightens up a little, a smile on his face as he teases you. “I’m just…” He shakes his head, as if to get himself out of a daze. “I’m just trying to remember your face. I need to make sure I don’t forget it…” His expression returns to how it was before, desolate and heartbroken.

“Make me a promise, 亲亲.”

“Go on.”

“We will meet in my next lifetime. And… we will live out a future that we could not have in this one.” He holds out his pinky finger and you take it.

“Sounds nice. I’ll hold you to it, Dan Feng.”

ask before translating, taking inspo from (not copy), reposting, etc. my work. remember to credit me and if you’re taking inspo from it, please @ me as I’d like to see what you do with my ideas!

Reblog if you’re over 20 and still read/write fan fiction.

I’m curious!

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.

“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

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♡

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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~?”

phainon yandere profile. gender neutral, TW // yandere, nsfw at the end. credits @cinnamonest for the profile template. :)

What is he generally like? Is he self-aware, lucid, or obsessive? How does he behave?

Phainon is, in all variations of him, just a big dog with a tortured heart. He's desperate for your attention and approval, for someone to never leave him and carry the burden of the prophecy with him. Despite being surrounded by his fellow flame-chasers and admirers, he feels painfully lonely, knowing that at the end of the day, the only person who can truly walk his path is himself.

He's a little intense when it comes to the people around him, so you likely wouldn't think of him as obsessive at first - it's just how he is, so you believe. Phainon really leans into the 'pity me' card (complete with the puppy dog look), and neither you or nor anyone else can say anything about it. He creeps into your life, entwining himself with you until by the time you look down, it's too late.

He's obsessive and self-aware. He knows what he's doing is wrong, like threatening people or restricting your freedom, but Phainon will jump through any and all mental hoops to convince himself (and you) that it's all for your own good, hence obsessive. Idk the cognitive dissonance is strong with this one.

How do you meet him?

You’d have to be something special - preferably someone beyond the stars, someone who isn’t familiar with Okhema’s customs at all. Phainon would have trouble with separating you from the people he’s supposed to be a hero to, even if you were able to see him for him.

Alternatively, a childhood friend would do very well for him. Phainon remembers every precious memory he had with you before he could be coined Chrysos Heir. He attaches himself to you obsessively, completely sure that you’re the only person who could ever understand the true him and relieve the burden of all the blood on his hands.

How likely will he kidnap his darling?

Talking strict kidnapping, 1/10. Phainon doesn't need to keep you in his house to control you - he has power and sway over the people, and when that doesn't work, a few well placed bribes help so that someone has their eye on you at all times. Besides, he wants to see you happy and he wants you to accept him, most of all. Kidnapping you would be the antithesis of all that.

How difficult is it to escape from him? How does he restrain his darling? How does he deal with attempted escape?

10/10 difficulty, both physically and from his area of influence. Phainon would make up all sorts of excuses to stay with you a little while longer, whine and complain that he never gets to see you (lie), and try to wriggle his way into your home or coerce you back to his, even if it might make him seem a bit like... loser. He keeps you stuck to his side and in his shadow by sliding an arm around your waist or shoulder under the pretence of friendliness; he's clingy like you've never known clingy before.

He’s not above using drugs to achieve his desired outcome either, for example, making you so sleepy that you can’t turn down an invitation back to his place. Phainon feels bad about it at first, but when he sees you dozing uncontrollably on his shoulder, it's not difficult to wave the guilt away. And he finds it gets easier the more he does it! So it can't be all bad, can it?

From his area of influence, it’s easy enough to arrange for a little accident, a hiccup with your finances, whatever it takes to keep you within the city and keep you from leaving his side where he can reach you. There's no attempted escape from him - unless you're willing to hurt the people you love on your way out.

How easy is it to trick, deceive, or manipulate him?

For some minor trickery, like making up some excuse to slip away from a social situation, it’s easy enough. Phainon would rather gaslight himself into thinking you’re always right and that you’d never lie to him, and so he’ll let you get away with small lies even if he knows they are lies. True deception and manipulation is tough, however. He’s always two steps ahead of you - experienced warrior, remember? And well-loved by the citizens besides. Somebody would tell on you, even if he slips up.

You could manipulate him by showering him with love if you're smart about it. You'd have to prepare your exit while giving him lots of hugs and kisses and telling him how much you appreciate him, and Phainon will melt. Play to his rose-tinted glasses and you'll be able to conceal your true plans - just be prepared to move fast, and keep running for as long as you live.

How lenient is he? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He’s pretty liberal in the grand scheme of things. He lets you go about your day, stay in your home, continue to have your friends and family with you. But as Phainon closes in on possessing you, you get the distinct feeling that people are beginning to be uncomfortable around you, and that certain choice people have started disappearing - like the colleague who tried asking you out once. You’d turned him down, of course. But that doesn’t stop Phainon from taking… precautions.

You’re denied your freedom in the sense that every way you turn, you come up against the iron bars of your metaphorical bird cage. A gilded cage is still a cage, after all, and it's frustrating to know that someone is pulling the strings behind the scenes even though you have no idea who it is.

What kind of rules does he have? What kind of punishments would he use?

The one and only rule Phainon has: no leaving his side. And he means that in the grand scheme of things, as in no dying, and no leaving Okhema. He thinks he doesn't ask for much, really!

He isn't actually fond of punishing you. He likes to treat you like a delicate flower, so he lavishes you in all sorts of luxuries and creature comforts. The most punishment he'd ever use would be to isolate you in his home with nothing but himself for company. It's not the worst, all things considered, but I imagine spending a month alone with Phainon is enough to drive anyone up the wall.

How does he deal with rivals, or perceived rivals?

Phainon can be surprisingly peace-loving when it comes to his "rivals", or at the very least has no desire to hurt the people he's supposed to serve and protect. He tries to let killing be his last resort, and calls in favours from here or there to make sure your paths never cross again. Threats would come anonymously and are usually enough to deter them from ever speaking to you again.

He kills when he has to, though, and makes sure to do the deed himself. He wouldn't trust anyone else with such an important job.

How easy is it to make him mad? What does his anger look like?

Phainon doesn’t get mad so much as he gets desperate, upset, and very, very clingy. It hurts him if you reject him, talk about leaving the city or even Amphoreus, or try to lie to him. He’s nothing but good to you and has only ever acted for your benefit, so why do you treat him in this way? Tears are common. He doesn’t intend to guilt trip, but he does it very well. You feel like you're kicking a lost puppy in the rain whenever you hurt him. Is it ever worth it?

In a parallel vein, Phainon does get jealous. That’s when he feels the need to shower you in physical gifts, or mark you with bruises and bite marks and leave you so sore that there’s no doubt about who had done that to you. He wraps you all up in his arms, even in public, making sure that word spreads fast who this Chrysos Heir has his eye on.

Does he see you as above, beneath, or equal to him?

He sees his darling as his saviour, his rock, his anchor to whatever good is left in his world, so I’d say he sees you as above him. You’re his mortal god, and no normal human would ever relinquish their grasp on their god, would they?

How determined is he for you to love him, or is he content just having you?

It's a little bit of both for Phainon. He's not really determined so much as he is the type to roll around on his bed complaining about whyyy don't you love him back, kneel before you and worship the ground you walk on, anything you want.

He'll pour his everything into loving you, but if he expects anything back, it vacillates. He doesn't quite believe he's deserving of love, after all, and if something loves him back he fears he might lose it. So if you spend the rest of your life hating him, he supposes it's alright as long as you're safe, even if it hurts.

It's either that or he falls into a darkness every once in a while and really needs your comfort and affection. Denying him when he's like this is a sure way to be pulled into some... intimate endeavours.

How forceful is he? Does he care about your willingness?

Like before, it depends on his mood. Usually he's doing his best to coax you into warmer feelings for him, but sometimes, he allows himself to slip and treat you as an object of love rather than another person. Phainon isn't really forceful as in fond of using brute force, but he'll manipulate and cajole until your willingness becomes "your idea", or at least until he can gaslight you into thinking it was your idea.

General perverseness: How sexual is he? What's his drive like? Touchy? Any reservations about sexuality?

Touchy? Extremely. And not even in a perverse manner, Phainon just likes hugs and kisses and cuddles that way.

He doesn't really have any reservations about sexuality - he likes you, he wants you, that's all it is to him. But he doesn't like the idea of forcing you either (without the help of certain substances, at least.) He's definitely much more respectful in the beginning, letting you take things at your own pace. Just don't let him wait for too long...

His drive is constant but not uncontrollably high. Phainon's always in the mood to worship his darling, be it through gifts or pleasure. Whatever darling wants, darling gets, and he's more than happy to provide, even to the point of neglecting his own pleasure.

What body parts of his darling does he like the most?

Probably thighs. He just likes the softness and the warmth of it all, squeezing and kneading your flesh. It's intimate but not too intimate, and he can keep you close while he indulges. :)

this post was so incredibly long. please leave a reblog if you enjoyed TT

Op has said that it's not just his account that got suspended but many other people around him as well

you see how i don’t throw a fit when someone writes a fic i’m not interested in reading? very mindful, very considerate, very demure. i’m not like you other girls who go on anon to tell writers you don’t like what they’ve chosen to write about. i simply do not read it and move on. very thoughtful. very cutesy.