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throwaway-yandere · 10 months

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A/n: ansy speaking, not her. Please. P l e a s e. Don't read ANY of the endings unless you've reached the end of the story in your own way.

Link to the fic.

In the public eye, it's known that you and Gepard were not the closest. Given how harsh his father was to you both, even the spouses were sure that you two had an unspoken rivalry. Expectations for greatness and undying loyalty for the Supreme Guardian had been ingrained so much that everyone thought you both always wanted to outdo the other to gain Mr. Landau's approval.

But that is far from the truth.

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, Captain?"

He looked away, cheeks and ears both red.

"I-Is my hand too cold?"

You smiled vibrantly.

Except for Serval and Pela, no one knew that you and Gepard had been dating for seven years. Lynx must've had a hunch, but you were both skilled enough to dodge suspicions.

Perhaps that's exactly what made your relationship exciting. Loving him was quite an expensive vice, and you relished every second you squandered. He thought the same as you; your pervasive cheerfulness reserved for his eyes only was something he often mentally chastised himself for obsessing so much, but he can't get enough of you. Being his "vixen" had been a label you cherished ever since he confessed his reciprocation of your feelings, especially when he said that you have made him resort to discreet flippancy when he saw other men and women take an interest in you several times.

You were certain he was obsessed with you as much as you were obsessed with him

A secret this big would certainly give Mr. Landau a turn, but when the time comes, you wouldn't mind the slaps and shards of ceramic and glass you'd have to face as long as you get to be with Gepard.

Your hold on his hand tightened. This led you to notice how ringless his fingers were and you frowned. You know Gepard. If you don't tie him down, one of his many fans will beguile and win his unwavering loyalty. That was his nature. And you couldn't accept being "just" some near-servant he was forced to grow up with.

"Not at all, no.”

He liked that response. Gepard flashed you a small lopsided smile that was incredibly attractive given how he rarely shows it to anyone.

"You don't have a ring on you..." You cast your gaze down. "Will we ever have a chance at getting married?"

Gepard ducked his chin, considering his words.

"W-Well, I don't know about that."

Your stomach dropped.

... You get it. You got it from then on.

Despite being together for 7 years– 7 YEARS– He will always prioritize his duties before you. You knew that was the core of his character– loyalty, and obedience– and it's likely the only real similarity between him and Mr. Landau. You’re used to it. However, seeing it confirmed again in this context hurts more than you thought it would.

You dropped his hand, you doubt he notices the absence of your warmth.

"So… the future's uncertain."

"Of course."

You didn't speak. There was no reason to do so. You knew that he was aware of how much you didn’t like his response.

Admittedly, Gepard's hands were always cold. It'd be funny to utter false romances on how perfectly warm his hands are when it feels like he walked straight out of a freezer. Today, his hands were ice, and so was his heart.

“(Y/n), I have something I’d like to tell you…”

Gepard gulped, ashamed.

“The truth is… You frighten me.”

…

"What…?"

You tilted your head, chuckling. His words didn't make much sense, especially when he was holding you so delicately.

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps the proper phrasing is that I'm... afraid," Gepard looked away. "Of what's in store for us in the future... Should we continue this route."

You blinked.

"We are not in the Ministry of Education. Be more concise."

"I'm afraid to love you as much as you love me."

...

"... That doesn't answer anything."

"I'm afraid that I'll lose my sanity, being so close to you like this, holding you like this" he tightened his grip. "I'm afraid I'd lose my– myself, my hold on reality, my–"

"Name."

You let go.

"You're afraid that being in a relationship with me will end up getting you disowned. You're afraid of loving me because you have a duty you're obliged to uphold, especially since you're of noble blood and I am just an orphan your father picked up, right? You're afraid to get attached because growing up you've witnessed how little I'm worth. How I lived not like a human child, but a pawn, right? How– despite my skills– I will never be promoted based on my background and upbringing, yes?"

"(Y/n)..."

"Enough, Captain."

You laughed cruelly. Your breathing rehearsed– your face stiff as a board.

"Let's just forget we ever had this talk."

“Through highs and lows, we’ll always prevail,

Hand-in-hand, we’ll conquer any trail…"

You kept a fixed gaze on Gepard as he continued to sit in his cozy office chair. The unsettling aura that permeated your entire existence didn't appear to trouble him too much. He was aware of why you had come, but he was unable to express himself as he let you in.

"Gepard."

His suspicions were correct. You weren't here for official matters. This visit was personal.

And he is the one at fault here.

"(Y/n)."

"Don't." You shook your head. "Don't get me started."

"Well, what is it that you wish for me to say?"

"Say that you didn't want it." You spoke, unfettered. "Say that you don't want us to be siblings."

"I don't."

"Then why?" You laughed breathlessly. "Why did you let father– your father do this?"

"I don't– I didn't let him do it. It's just the way it is. They want you as the official third Landau, that is all."

"That's all I am to you? A rival to heirdom?"

"(N/n)..." He covered his mouth with his hand; his stare melancholic yet enraged. “You know it’s not true. Take it back.”

"But ultimately, our relationship means nothing but a waste of time." You shook your head. "It would've hurt less if you just rejected me early on. It wouldn't be this fucking painful."

"I know."

You raised your axe.

"Of course you do. You always were sharp." You scoffed. He gulped as the rough edges of your laughter struck a chord in his chest– Gepard had never heard you cackle this much.

Strange how the same axe that used to bring him security on the frontlines now overwhelms him with obvious dread.

"At this point, I'm so convinced this pain I'm feeling right now– it's intentional. All a way to keep yourself amused under the guise of upholding the family’s orders."

"(Y/n)." he attempted to speak your name firmly, but there was a quiver by the end of it. "Stand down."

Gepard breathed in.

“I… I can always help you find a match–”

“YOU DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?! I DON’T NEED A MATCH. I JUST WANT YOU!!!”

Your breathing no longer seemed "rehearsed"– resoundingly jagged and feral. Should Gepard be lucky enough to have an outsider witness his final moments, they would've seen how you were crumbling– every inch displaying how you were expiring out of heartbreak.

He gave you half a smile as he approached cautiously. Gepard had always been keenly observant– able to deduce who true criminals were by a single testimony– and you do not have that advantage.

"(N/n)..."

"Why…?"

The glint in your eye as you hoisted your axe upward never left.

"Did you ever... love me back?" You cracked. "In all our years together, sneaking out— carefully unscrewing your windows just to go wherever– did you ever think about us? Or... Or were you just kind this whole time? Were you just afraid of breaking my heart?"

Gepard shook his head, walking towards you with heavy footsteps. He took your shoulders and stared at you dead in the eye, his eyes watering.

"N-No...! No, no, I love you, more than you think. It’s why I’m doing this. I— I love you so much that I knew if I– If I let myself go," he gulped. “I might end up killing Dad.”

"Then why?" You sobbed, wiping your tears quickly to save face. "Why are you giving me up so easily?"

"(Y/n)... What I feel for you just isn't normal." He smiled crookedly. “No sane son would constantly dream about suffocating his father with a pillow just to be with someone. This isn’t right anymore. I-I don’t think I’m sane.”

Gepard cupped your cheeks.

His hands were cold. As it always was.

"I want you all to myself and it's... I can't. I can't say it out loud. It feels like a crime against Belobog." He leaned in, touching his forehead against yours. Gepard closed his eyes, worried that if he continued to face you, he'd dissolve into nothing.

The great Captain Gepard Landau, adored by many, was scared of himself.

"I'm always paranoid. I'm scared of watching you– watching you succeed. It's not a person I'm supposed to be. I'm your Captain, I should be happy whenever others imply your promotion but I'm not! I'm– I don't even understand why!!! I’m unhappy when other people have your attention– I just don't want to see that look of fixation in your eyes for another man– I don't want you to look at people like Sampo Koski over— over..."

… me.

With a perverse mixture of mischief and rivalry, Sampo manipulated circumstances that engineered chance encounters with you. He strategized himself in your path, feigning coincidental meetings while leaving a trail of subtle clues only you would realize.

Gepard despises acknowledging it, but he is quite certain that Sampo Koski's strategy of losing from the start is what led to your imminent promotion. Irritatingly, you don't seem to care for his creepy antics and his upfront need for your attention, even inside metallic confinement. In Gepard's eyes, your irritated grin showed that you were taking pleasure in Sampo's "comedic" performances. You don't appear to be bothered by Sampo. Gepard is not identical.

And to this, your dear Captain was starting to see his father when looking in the mirror.

A bitter old man with little patience when another person touches what’s his.

Gepard breathed in shakily.

"I don't... want… And that’s why I am not fit to be your lover. You deserve a life much better than this. A life where our opportunities are the same– and I cannot give you that Landau name, but my parents can."

He dropped his trembling hands as they led to his sides. Gepard faced the floor, ashamed with his conscience dirtied. It's as though he's dumping all his dirty laundry on you. No matter how much he voices how much these thoughts plague him, he doubts you understand the extent of his love.

But you do. And you feel it more strongly than he does.

"... You don't want to be ruined by love, that's all?"

You sighed, ghost-like.

"I see. Truly, you carry the will of Qlipoth."

Suddenly, you were back to being a model soldier.

Gepard refused to open his eyes.

…

It seemed as though he had forgotten.

How much you resembled his father more than he did.

A scream echoed throughout the vicinity.

No one else heard it but you. Not even Gepard realized that guttural sound came from him.

Always so rehearsed. So calculated.

As Mr. Landau used to say: "With a strength like yours, (Y/n), it'll take two chops before you can take out a limb."

And he was right. He was always right about you.

"(Y-Y/N)!!!"

You blinked slowly.

Time moved slowly. You grabbed the chopped wood on the floor. You tossed it to the side. It's a lot more moist than usual, and heavier as well, like an over-drowned rotting cactus. The temperature must've dropped again. You should consult Lynx about this later.

"Captain. There's not enough wood for the soldiers at the outpost."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?!" Gepard screamed. Strangely enough, he sounded like he was in pain.

You blinked again. Why is the Captain so agitated? Is there an emergency?

"What's wrong, Captain?" You voiced out, awfully calm. A silent voice begged you to panic, but you were a soldier first and foremost. How will you protect the people if you're easily swayed by your captain's mood fluctuations?

Gepard shook, holding himself up against his desk. A surge of searing pain coursed through his body as the “chopped wood” was ruthlessly severed. The shock and disbelief enveloped him, no different from a fog. Collapsing to his knees, he clutched the mangled “stump” where his arm once was, blood staining his trembling hand.

Tears mingled with the beads of sweat on his forehead. He gasped for breath. Amid his physical agony, you stood tall, wordlessly threatening to consume him.

"(Y-Y/n)...! P-Please!!!" He yelped in pain.

"Did you hurt yourself? May I see?"

"Y-You..." Tears rolled down Gepard’s face. “W-WHY DID YOU?!?!–”

"Don't worry. You've helped me train on my combat lifesaver course, please allow me."

You took a step forward, hands moist from the “snow”.

His non-dominant hand slapped yours away.

Why didn’t he use his dominant hand?

"D-DON'T!!!"

You stopped.

"Captain. You're being hysterical. Please take deep breaths."

"H-Hah... H-H-Hhahh… H-Hahh, why? H-Hahah…"

Gepard looked down again.

You both stayed there for minutes.

You stood with a worn axe in hand, a single “lumber” at your feet. In your mind, it was a simple task— chopping wood for your comrade’s warmth and comfort in the upcoming expedition. But Gepard's eyes revealed a different story.

You observed his trembling form, his gaze fixed on the place where your swing had connected. What had you missed? You couldn't fathom why he seemed terrified. What had you failed to see? Innocently, you believed you were going about a mundane chore. The weight of the axe felt ordinary in your grip, the act of splitting wood a routine you had performed countless times. How could you have known the magnitude of what had transpired?

But he couldn't turn a blind eye to the truth as you tilted his head up, smiling vibrantly.

"I.. .... ..u."

All he could hear was the syllables “I” and “U.”

You knelt and kissed his cheek. He was wet, probably from the snow. Yes. The snow. Gepard was a clumsy man, he must've stumbled on his way to his office. Mr. Landau had always berated him for his unrefined movements, but you secretly thought it as endearing.

"I.. lo.. ..u. So much, Geppie." You grinned as you sloppily slid the axe in your possession to his remaining hand. "But you need to stop crying. You’re a soldier."

That sentence. It was just like hearing them out of Mr. Landau’s lips.

You pointed at yourself— your thigh— your leg.

"Dry your tears and help me chop wood, okay?"

It took him seconds before he met your gaze.

Your eyes were like staring at the blurry snow beyond the gates of the Administrative district. He knew there must be something there but all that gazed back was foggy and bottomless. The problem is, his vision too was starting to blacken.

He weakly pecked your lips.

“Okay… Okay…”

Gepard laughed mid-tears, his energy draining.

His cries reached a hauntingly high-pitched cry that echoed like metal against metal. His mournful wails never resembled wolfish growls but rather heartbroken cries. His speech resembles the guttural syllables "I" and "U" in an auditory expression of grief.

Like a monster whose flesh was stitched with a Silvermane Guard uniform, he grabbed the axe and began to chant mindlessly.

Gepard remembered Pela said something about this before.

‘When the body loses a substantial amount of blood, it can disrupt the delivery of oxygen to the brain, affecting its function and leading to altered mental states, including distress. Hypovolemic shock can also occur within a matter of minutes to hours after experiencing significant blood loss.’

That's right, that must be it. It was even in his lifesaver training course. As a Captain, how dare he forget about it?

Gepard took the axe with his remaining arm, weakly swinging it as tears rolled in his eyes. His legs are giving up and he’s starting to feel queasy as the world whirls around him,

For a minute there– or the last minutes he would ever have– he finally gave himself the release he needed.

He's been a good child for too long. He couldn't say those three words when you needed motivation. He couldn't whisper when you asked for his relief. He couldn't scream it when you craved its solace.

At least now, he can confess his love when it counted.

“I-I love you, (Y/n).” Gepard harshly took a deep breath as he lowered his arm. He's a soldier. He wasn't supposed to question the orders from his superiors, and right now, you were the only person he looked up to.

The clock struck 10:10.

“I love you, so, so much.”

An eye for an eye, and you were forgiven.

“In our home, you’re always free to stay…”

It was lunchtime when people started returning to their posts. Pela took a half-day, begging Serval to kindly deliver the papers instead of her due to a convention. This was something the now-promoted intelligence officer wished she had never done.

Pela wished she didn't force Serval to witness the gruesome sight of her brother embraced by his cold-eyed murderer.

She couldn't scream. For once, the vocalist had no smart words to say. She let herself run on auto-pilot hauntingly as though it was a mere volunteer job at the orphanage.

Serval avoided staring at your chopped leg and Gepard's arm strewn to the side, neatly sitting together like lumber. Her breathing was abnormal as she clawed her skirt. None of this was real to her. None of this made any sense.

"H-Hey... (Y/n)..."

You looked up.

"W-What… happened?"

"We were just chopping wood." You replied, monotone. “And then he felt sleepy…”

You were starting to feel tired too. You don’t want to stand up anymore.

"Chopping.. w-wood..." Serval's voice cracked as she began to cry. "W-What... for...?"

"The soldiers at the outpost. We have an expedition. I suppose the captain was just too tired to move…"

"O-Oh dear Qlipoth— (Y/N)!!!" Serval felt bile rising to her throat. “GEPARD!!!”

Serval's heart pounded in her chest as she reluctantly sprinted, her steps quick and frantic. There you “sat”, cradling Gepard's lifeless form in your arms, a serene expression on your face.

With shaky hands, she held Gepard alongside you. Large tears soon splotched Gepard’s peaceful expression, painted with his older sister’s grief.

Your gaze met Serval's, and at that moment, the lifeless confusion etched across your face sent a sharp pang of pain through her heart. You spoke, your words tinged with innocence, unaware of how the dried red liquid soaking both your clothes was starting to turn brown.

Painfully, Serval misunderstood your words. In her mind, she envisioned a violent attack, a scenario where someone had assaulted both of you, clouding your judgment and leaving you lost in confusion like a wounded deer. Afterward, she thought of how you must’ve been mad about Gepard’s passiveness concerning their father’s decision, attacking him without much thought.

Serval's cries intensified. Her understanding of the situation clashed with your warped perception.

Did she see you not as a perpetrator but as another sibling caught in an ambush?

Or did she understand what happened, and simply wanted you to get away from the crime you had committed?

Temporarily, her focus was on you. Looking only at Gepard was too much to bear– like another half of herself was burned to sunder.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Serval smiled warily and replied in an overly pert tone. “I’ll get a mop— w-we’ll clean this mess, okay? You didn’t do it. You did what you can. You did nothing wrong…”

Serval sobbed.

Either way, she won’t lose another important person in her life.

Not again.

You tilted your head, eyes slowly fluttering shut.

“W-Why are you crying, Serv?”

“(Y/n), i-it’s okay! C-Calm down, calm down. Things just happen. I’ll help you okay? Shhh, d-don’t cry, don’t cry, I'm here… I won’t let you leave me.”

“... Who’s coming to take me away…?”

“N-No, no… I won’t let it happen. They don’t even have to know you were here. P-Pass the mop now, shhh…”

She was speaking to herself more than she was speaking to you.

Even when she is her only conversation partner, Serval was a lousy liar.

But despite all those lies, she knew that she would never recover from losing Gepard.

“Together, we’ll face each passing day…”

Your eyes fluttered open, your body drenched in cold sweat.

You’re out of the back alley.

You breathed shakily. You’re free. And yet, a lingering sense of fear clings to your senses. Gasping for breath, you found yourself in an unfortunately very familiar room. You didn’t know what time it was, but the soft glow of moonlight casting a gentle light across the hospital walls told you what you needed to know. And there, by your side, sat Serval who held your hand the entire time, a mix of relief and concern etched upon her face.

"S-Serval?" Your voice trembled as you whispered her name, still reeling from the remnants of that nightmare.

Serval's eyes widened in surprise, her voice laced with a hint of guilt. "You're awake! Oh, thank– I didn't know what I would do if I lost you."

Not you too.

She continued.

“Seriously, why did you try to escape?”

Her hold on your hand tightened.

Serval’s hands were cold, just like Gepard’s.

“Don’t you know how worried sick I was?” Serval’s voice was airy as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear her concerns. “I thought you and Sampo eloped. Not to mention this whole event about a murder happening at 10:10– I genuinely thought you were dead when we found you lying down near the Golden Theater at that time!”

She took a deep breath.

“I thought you were dead. I genuinely thought I’d lose another sibling.” Serval cried as she pulled you closer, her head now resting on your shoulder. “Don’t scare me like that again!!!”

You gulped, feeling something stuck in your throat.

“Were… you singing?”

“Ah!” Serval’s eyes widened. “Yes, yes I was.”

“I’m sorry, was it too cheesy?” She laughed quietly. “Lynx, Pela, and I are still working on it. We were hoping to perform it for you once you got better. Dunn was even willing to help out.”

This is wrong.

You don’t deserve her kindness. You don’t deserve their affection.

Your obsession with Gepard Landau was consuming, swallowing you whole. With an already fragile mind– he had effectively shattered your mental state, no matter how merciful he had done it.

Human unpredictability is a terrifying variable. Who would’ve known that the unofficial Landau could lose themselves in blind rage and desperation? A hole so deep, you haven’t realized the axe you wielded severed his arm. But such a tragedy was only the beginning. Gepard tore your leg off your body in the process as well.

Most importantly, unable to control both physical and mental anguish, you took his life, extinguishing your raison d’etre.

Finally, the lines between reality and delusion crispened.

In his final moments, what was he thinking about? Why was he smiling as you ripped away his arm? Why did he still hold you so gently? Why did he...

You cried.

“I killed him.”

You shook.

“I killed him, Serval!” You grasped a handful of the hospital bedsheets, sobbing wildly. “I killed your brother!!!”

You couldn’t face him. A murderer couldn’t face the family of their victims with a heavy conscience. You couldn’t see her eyes after this. You want her to gouge them out for you.

…

“Hah.”

But amidst that silence, you heard a soft somber chuckle.

“I know.”

You snapped your neck towards her.

“What…?”

“I know. I know you killed Geppie.” Serval spoke, emotionless. “And I won’t ever forgive you for that. I’m sorry, (Y/n), but you know how long it takes for me to let go of past grudges. It was so easy for you to just take my brother off this world... Don't you at least owe me an explanation!? I don’t want another "I blacked out" as an excuse. So don’t bother if you can’t give me a good honest answer.”

She’s right.

You can never give her a good honest answer. You can either give her a good one or an honest one– they’re mutually exclusive in this scenario.

You gulped. “I-I’m so sorry, Ser–”

“But,” she chuckled, full of self-loathing. “I grew up with you. You were always there for me, as a servant, friend, my dad’s favorite, my brother’s lover, or my sibling.”

Serval took a deep breath.

“You’re still our third Landau. I don’t know how I feel about you, but what I do know is that I need to keep you alive.”

“B-BUT—”

“I’m not the only one who will lose another sibling. Lynx will too.”

Serval shook her head, placing a finger on her lip as she closed her eyes.

“I should’ve locked the door to the basement.” She repeated those words with more conviction. “I should’ve locked the door to the basement. You wouldn’t have remembered everything if I just asked Molly to double-check the locks.”

You slipped your hand away from hers.

“What do you…”

You can no longer form complete sentences and Serval won’t let you do so either way.

“Dr. Kang Tu’s medicine has worn off quickly, huh? Maybe I can get Pela to find better connections. She knows people with a Ph.D. in medicine or pharmacy or something, right? It shouldn't be too hard. Maybe I can ask Dr. Kang Tu if it's possible to up the dosage— surely there are a ton of customers who aren't too satisfied with this therapy device. Heck, maybe I can tinker with it for a little. My engineering degree isn't worth dust. Maybe I can adjust the settings just a bit better. Yeah... It'll be fine. I can work this out. I'll just have to—"

You stared blankly as Serval talked to herself. If there's something worse than watching her lie, it's to watch her be incredibly earnest about something vile and wrong.

"Serval?"

"Yeah, I can do that, no sweat!" She laughed out loud. Her pupils were dilated, as though her self-encouragements can make her run a mile. "Yeah, I can do this. Dad may think I'm useless but I’m the only one who can save his favorite kid. Sure, I’m an ex-engineer from the Technology Division, but I’m also the only one that can still protect– preserve this family."

Her prolonged rants were unnerving as she fumbled with what was in her bag.

Suddenly, remembered all the "experiments" she had done to you when you were tied up in her basement. The stuffy air, the strange electrifying devices, the cables, the sockets that connect to both your temples-- the flickering lights that made you pass out and wake up in a never-ending cold sweat.

Suddenly, you remembered why you wanted to leave.

"What are you—"

You finally shared a gaze.

Your heart dropped.

Her eyes were empty. Cold. Yet it squinted as she wore a large smile. Too large to be considered normal. But this was the same sight you'd see whenever you woke up. And it never fails to make you worry despite the pain you endured.

Serval Landau is broken, yet she wanted to be the one to "fix" you like a good older sister.

And it's all your fault.

Like all Landaus, there's no stopping them once they've made up their mind. A “family code of conduct”— one that you had once followed before.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n).” Serval smiled as she turned something on.

The mobile amnesic therapy meditation device looked like it belonged naturally in her hands.

“But I still need this happy family to work. If not for Gepard, then for Mom and Lynx. They’d be too heartbroken if they knew the truth.”

You started to hear that familiar radio static again.

“So forget everything that happened, okay?”

#ansy-writes #yandere x reader #error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 error 410 #platonic 'yandere' serval x reader #yandere hsr #yandere gepard landau #yandere gepard #gepard x reader #dead dove: do not eat #yandere gepard x yandere reader #yandere gepard landau x yandere reader

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d1ana-m0nd · 11 months

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╭─► ❝Poison Lips❞

Serval Landau × Yandere! GN! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd) || Inspired by Toxic

➢ Yandere && Not Proofread , Scenario && Word Count 298

➢ Everyone says love is a good thing, something that is complex and it can be experienced differently with each person you experience it with. Everyone should experience love in their life once in a lifetime. No one told Serval that love can be dangerous as well.

➢ CONTENT WARNING : There will be typical yandere themes (abuse, obsessiveness, possessiveness, and manipulative behavior), do not read this fanfic if you find it triggering or you are below 18+, slight lime but vague.

Serval was scared of your lips, they were overwhelmingly sweet and addicting. Some would even say that your lips are poison itself, others even joke that your lips should wear a warning due to how toxic those lips were. Despite the red flags and the dangers that she heard about you, Serval still found herself being lured in by the "toxicity" that she calls love, which will be her demise.

With every fight and anger that is lashed out upon her, Serval still found herself loving you but she is scared of you. You make her flinch whenever you raise your voice and your loud footsteps make her anticipate the worst to come yet, you reassure her that your actions are out of love to which she fell for. She hated that she loved you even though she knew that she was growing in fear of her life.

Everyone around her tried to warn her and tried to make her leave you but, you made her head spin with your sweet words and poisonous lips that lured her further into the abyss. She found herself stuck in the abyss, as reality and lies blended together which made her head spinning round and round. You got her where you wanted her to be, right within your reach.

Whenever you both explore each other's caverns or bodies, lust drives you guys on the edge. A lustful ride that leads you guys to poison paradise. Despite it being unspoken, you were just as addicted to her as how she was to your lips. You both intoxicated each other, with each other's love. Neither of you couldn't help it nor stop drinking the devil's cup, something you both treasure with each gulp despite the poison that was already dripping from your lips.

➢ DISCLAIMER : I wrote this not to vent or fantasize the concept of abusive relationships. I want to experiment with writing different relationships types, so what I wrote is very textbook based and experimental please don't take it to heart.

➢ "Minors don't interact" & "Reblog to support your favorite writer" belong to @/benkeibear

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harmonysanreads · 10 days

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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 piece i guess

#requests: batch two #answered #yandere #yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader

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fire-lizard-ro · 8 months

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Masterlist

Honkai Star Rail⭐

*is for favorites

Belobog

>>>Gepard

Puppyboy Gepard (NSFW)

General Angst Headcanon

[requesting connection…]

>>>Serval

Poly Serval/Natasha + some yandere w/fem reader

>>>Natasha

Poly Serval/Natasha + some yandere w/fem reader

Xianzhou Alliance - Luofu

>>>Jing Yuan

Angst + Fluff [Untitled]

Poly JingRen (NSFW)

Jing Yuan slowly falls in love with baker reader

>>>Dan Feng

[loading…]

Astral Express

>>>Dan Heng

Dan Heng IL (NSFW)

Dan Heng IL + oviposition (NSFW)

Bottom Dan Heng (NSFW)

>>>Trailblazer

Random Trailblazer Stuff

>>>Welt

[loading…]

Stellaron Hunters

>>>Blade

Poly JingRen (NSFW)

>>>Kafka

[loading…]

Penacony

>>>Sunday

Sunday Headcanons 1

Sunday Headcanons 2

Bottom Sunday (NSFW)

Sunday with a Columbina like s/o + part 2

Arranged marriage

Arranged marriage pt. 2 (NSFW)

Religious Themed Devotion

Sunday with a reader that is like him

Sunday being related to Ena somehow theory and headcanon talk

>>> Gallagher

Gallagher ideas and headcanons

Aeons

>>>Nanook

Headcanons (CW: dark themes)

>>>Yaoshi

Headcanons (CW: dark themes)

Other

>>>Argenti

Rambling to Pixel pt. 1

Rambling to Pixel pt. 2

Religious Themed Devotion

Argenti with a reader who is good with words and flirting

Blind reader

>>>Dr. Veritas Ratio

Rambling to Pixel pt. 1

Rambling to Pixel pt. 2

Bathtub sex (NSFW) w/fem reader

Ratio as a father

>>>Aventurine <333

Screaming about Aventurine ideas

Aventurine angst/comfort

>>>Luocha

Religious Themed Devotion

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rainroses45 · 11 months

Text

Shattered Glass

☾description: Miguel and you get into an argument which leads you to see a not so pretty side of him

☾a/n: currently for other stuff for him and i just wrote this quickly at night NOT EDITED

☾song inspiration: love in the dark by adele

☾warnings: knife, angst, mentions of blood and puke, kinda yandere

His reflection glanced back at you like raindrops falling down a transparent mirror. Everywhere you turned, his red eyes laid there, following you as you tried to escape his harsh gaze.

Upon the shatter glass, laid the crumble flowers of mother earth, and what appeared to be her salty tears mourning the once’s gifted life. A pink tag ripped in half held two cursive names, one from and the other one to - both sharing a last name by choice, it was never by chance.

“Don’t you see I’m trying Y/n?!” His words ran across the once quiet room, scurrying towards the tippy top of the room searching for space in the already cramped atmosphere of tension.

“No.” You began once more, “No, Miguel - I don’t see, I don’t hear, and I mostly certainly to not feel like you are trying to change!”

“Vieja mendiga me estás cayendo tan mal!” Miguel gritted his teeth as he looked up from the celling then back to you. “That’s because you are too caught in your own selfishness, that you can’t lend a second of your precious time to witness anything other than yourself!” He pointed at you screaming again.

The clock had grown tired of hearing the same words being repeated, that its eyes only rolled back and forth in annoyance. Time had no place in this moment, and even if it did, what’s to stop you both from going all night?

It had been a simple disagreement at first. Miguel desperately yearned to have a child as soon as possible, while you wanted to wait a little longer for the violent, recurring missions to settle down. He wanted one now. You wanted to wait. The rest was history, which caused serval other topics to sprout from that one misplaced weed.

“Oh really?” You placed your hands on your hip, as you leaned forward. Your eyebrows shot up shocked at the words being thrown at you. “Says the man who’s never home!”

Miguel scoffs at your comment, crossing his arms and looking away from your furious gaze. “How do you want to raise this child Miguel?! Hm? Together, or do you just want me to play both roles as you go live in your office for the rest of our child’s li-”

“Enough!” He bellowed as both of his hands gripped his head. His palms covering his ears, in a desperate attempt to sound you out.

“No! No me voy a callar!” You stomped your foot down, shattering more glass, allowing your determined eyes to haunt every angle of your husband’s eyesight.

A silence began to sew its way into the air, making it appear as if all the wounds created were now stitched up to perfection.

Slowly you walked over the glass, and reached out to touch Miguel’s shoulder. A deep sigh escaped you in your tired state, even with this heavy burden of being a superhero, nothing could be harder than staying angry at someone who could die tomorrow.

“Miguel I’m sorry-“ Before you could finish, a blunt force pushed you to the wall, causing the chattery clock to fall down to your feet. It’s arrows spiraled down to the floor as it took one last bow.

“I said enough.” He whispered as his hand grabbed your jaw in place. A look of terror washed over you in gigantic amounts. His claws tug into your bruised cheek, leaving trickles of red to issue out of your veins, in a lagoon filled of bloody roses. So soft, so smooth, so very horrid, yet it blended in with his soul. The eyes always reflect back what’s in the soul.

You froze underneath his touch. A touch you once craved for warmth became the one that caused you whimper from the coldness brushing against your open wounds. Your husband, your Miguel, was now doing something he vowed never to do, and you just hung there - frozen as the memories of all the times he blemished you with his love brushed against your bruised heart in heavy blows.

It was not until you felt heavier in his arms that Miguel realized just what he had done. Quickly he removed his hands from your neck and took serval steps back. The scene in front of him made his stomach turn in so much disgust, he ran towards the apartment window to puke.

You groggy stood up as you held the wall behind you for support. The broken pieces were pushed away with your foot as you grabbed a knife from the kitchen. You didn’t want to hurt him, but he left you no choice - it was either be killed or let him suffer with a knife in the back.

Slowly, you take a peek inside the living room, only to find Miguel already slouched across the window wiping his mouth as tears flood his view. You began to walk back, but without being aware of your surroundings you accidentally crushed a piece of the clock, alerting Miguel to your presence.

“Amor?” He called out unsure if he heard you, or if his senses miss interpreted the noises inside his mind. You quickly hid behind a wall holding the knife towards you. You lowered your mask, allowing the blood to stain its once clean texture.

“Mi vida was that you?” He called out once again, “Please come out. I’m sorry.” With those words, your fear soon transformed into anger - boiling, hot hatred fueled by anger. The audacity he has to try and patch up the damage he has done with meaningless words!

“Lárgate Miguel,” you responded back, still hidden behind the wall. “Lárgate de mi vida!” You yelled out more determined than before.

“What?” He asked softly, still not being able to believe what he was hearing.

“You heard me Miguel.” Your voice surprising didn’t crack as you gripped the knife tighter.

His footsteps became louder as he made his way towards you, without hesitation you climbed to the corner of the celling in a defensive pose.

“Mi vida-“ He turned around believing you were still hiding behind the wall. “Where are you cariño?” Miguel spun around trying to see if you were in the kitchen.

“Ya no te quiero ver Miguel, por favor vete!” You wanted to cry, beg him to leave so you could continue on life without him, but Miguel never could listen. He was too stubborn to open his ears, this was also a component that was added to the argument.

“No amor por favor no digas eso por favor!” He began to beg to the hallway, unsure of where you were. “Perdóname, perdóname mi vida. No puedes dejarme solo, no puedo vivir sin ti amor. No puedo respirar, no puedo comer, no puedo dormir sin tener tu amor conmigo en mi corazón.” Miguel pleaded to the air as our - your tiny apartment echoed back his cries.

“Please Miguel, for me, for us…please leave, I can’t love you anymore.” Tear fled down your face, irritating your cuts, but it was minor compared to the pain in your chest.

Without another word, Miguel turned around to face the corner your currently were being held from.

“I knew you were there princesa,” You look at him in horror as he merely smirks back in fondness. “Pero no quiera decir nada because I didn’t want to scare you. But if you don’t love me anymore, I guess you leave me no choice then.” His movements were swift and precise. Your mask was ripped off of your face leaving your blood shot eyes matching his sinister red ones.

You were a fool to think a silly kitchen knife would protect you against the monstrosity of a husband. Miguel plucked it out of your hands, and before you could escape his grasp a familiar feeling hit you. His teeth tug into you, and before you could kick him off a feeling of numbness overtook your body.

The feeling of defeat never felt better seeing as he won nothing but false hope and life filled with grief. It didn’t matter in the end on how it ended, you will have the last laugh - it was canon.

I need to stop writing sad stuff…welp anywho I tried

#miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #no use of y/n #im sorry #im tireeed #spooderman

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yanderehsr · 10 months

Note

Serval and Gepard Landau with a Nahida-like reader. Reader reminds them of little lynxy (lynx landau who is the youngest sibling btw). You are so smart! And you even like science too! Only problem, you were too smart... Their infatuation towards you soon got picked up by you, so much so that you were starting to feel afraid for yourself and your future, but off course you aren't a diviner, because that stunt you did didn't help at all. If anything, it just got both of them more obsessed about you. You were a regular at Serval's workshop where did you go? Were you sleeping well? Did you eat? DOES YOUR PARENTS ABUSE YOU???? So much questions raised in their minds. Or maybe you found others worth hanging out around instead of them. That must be it... I mean, you even said yourself. You have no siblings... But no need worry anymore, you don't need your "friends" or your parents anymore... You now have big bro Gepard and big sis Serval with you! Maybe they'll let you introduce you to Lynx in the future...

Omg, yes, I love this ask🥰

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping

The first one to get attached is Serval. You were a regular at her workshop, you always ask about how things work, always ready to learn new things. She couldn't help that she grew attached when she saw you so often, you were just too cute.

Gepard gets attached from hearing Serval chatting up a storm about you, about how smart and cute you were. Gepard became curious, who is this child that his sister seems to have grown so close to.

When he meets you he understands, he just gets a feeling like he wants to protect you from all the horrors of the world, he follows you around, he is your own personal bodyguard.

You yourself realise quickly that something is wrong, Serval always tries to keep you away from others, and she seems to get jealous whenever you interact with anyone other than her. And Gepard is always around, even if he has work to do.

To you, they start to seem dangerous, how can you prepare for the future if you don't get to interact with others, so you distance yourself.

It has been 3 days of you not going to the workshop and Serval starts to panic, where are you, you are supposed to be with her right now. She will search all of belebog for you, what if your parents are keeping you locked inside, or your friends are trying to seperate you two.

She informs Gepard and the two continue searching, never thinking that you may actually try and hide from them. It is Gepard who finds you, he hugs you. The fact that you were gone from them for so long terrifies him, and he does the only thing he can think of.

He takes you to the workshop and locks you into the backroom, Serval has no problems with this, she gets to spend more time with you, and you wont meet your pesky friends and family. It's a good ending for everyone but you.

And yes, someday when you are more willing with this arrengement, they will let you meet Lynx.

"Sister, I found them, they were hiding from us"

"What, oh you poor thing, your friends must be manipulating you, don't worry, big sis and bro will take care of you now"

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere male #yandere female #yandere serval #yandere serval x reader #yandere gepard #yandere gepard x reader #platonic yandere

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yanderealm · 1 year

Text

⋆˙⟡ YOUR VAMPIRE S/O HCS !

PAIRING: gi / hi3 / hsr x afab! reader

TW: blood sucking, needy actions, your s/o being thirsty for your blood 7/24, you suffering from anemia because they always sucks your blood, biting marks, hickeys, NSFW, yandere & suggestive themes, possessiveness, oral ( f! receives ), period sex & soft sex.

NOTE: done and gone crappy i’m dying 💀. && banner edit inspired by @justblades .

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

they immediately get turned on because you whimper too much while they were sucking your blood, they made you lay on the floor without wasting any time and whisper “ leave it to me… i won’t hurt this time, i promise. “ for not making you get panicked. but you end up being broken by them.

diluc, zhongli, lisa, alhaitham, yelan, dainsleif, ayato, thoma, kaveh, wanderer, durandal, su, kevin, eden, otto, elysia, himeko ( hi3/hsr ), dan heng, luocha, welt, jing yuan, seele

they suck your blood until you pass out because they find your blood so rarely sweet that they shouldn’t leave even a drop to someone else. you always carry their marks on your neck, cleavage, breasts, wrists, thighs and inner thighs that they makes a new one if any of those marks perishes, they even lick your period blood if you let them and finger you gently.

kaeya, ayato, arlecchino, zhongli, childe, pantalone, alhaitham, cyno, rita, raven, hare / mistelyn, kalpas, blade, kafka

they prefer to suck on your blood once a week because they don't want to ruin your beauty by sucking too much blood. they always cares about your skin in aftercare, makes you sure that you eat well against anemia. they’ll even apologize if they went too hard to make you cry loudly, immediately licking the wound they made as treatment.

thoma, diluc, kazuha, keqing, shenhe, jean, lisa, fu hua, su, mei, aponia, eden, yae sakura, kallen, otto, gepard, sampo, dan heng, natasha, jing yuan

they want only their marks on your body and want to have their scent mixed with yours when they rest their face on your neck or chest. they won’t even comprehend that they’re not the only one who’s getting possessive over their beautiful s/o. you become a vampire to be immortal and to be more closer to them. and maybe even sucking their blood too?

childe, diluc, xiao, albedo, lisa, eula, yelan, ei, pantalone, signora, dottore, capitano, shenhe, raven, rita, yae sakura, blade, serval, bronya

they want to be intimate with you while sucking your blood because you’re really seductive in their eyes! they want to see you whimper in pleasure under them!

miko, dehya, sara, dainsleif, alhaitham, jean, baizhu, wanderer, pantalone, capitano, miko, xiao, mobius, mei, durandal, jing yuan, sampo, seele, kafka, luocha, serval

the reason they fell in love with you is the smell and hotness of your blood! it drove them crazy and they even tend to change their sick traits for making themselves ‘ boyfriend / girlfriend material ‘ in your eyes just for your sweet blood!. but soon, they achieve your delicious blood in your first date.! and maybe you spiced it up in the end <3

ei, cyno, wanderer, sara, childe, itto, kaveh, hare / mistelyn, kallen, mei, elysia, otto, kevin, dan heng, gepard

( YANDEREALM ) // MASTERLIST.

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daze4all · 4 months

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Imagine: Wedding Crasher! Blade

Imagine: Wedding Crasher! Blade kidnaps Groom! Dan Heng’s bride as in “Your wife is my wife” because we were once married, I have the jade bracers and earrings as proof. Lol.

Serious Take: Traditional red Chinese wedding vs comedic white western classic wedding gone wrong scenario

Blade defeats the guard escorting the wedding procession defeats guard and steals bride away from wedding palanquin

Does so to confront Dan Heng in fight/talk

Originally bride worried about Dan Heng past and now it come to haunt them both in Blade who says must pay the price.

Red wedding veil curation move aisde think it intended bridegroom but instead jealous blade.

Dan Heng goes to save bride reader confront blade.

Somehow end happily?

10x funnier if bride is Trailblazer MC for 10x chaos

Blade Steals the bride in a bridal carry and Dan Heng spars to get her back or he scoop up Dan Heng instead and stelle chases after lol

Silver wolf & Kafka outside waiting with getaway car.

Comedic : In a comedic white western classic wedding gone wrong scenario:

Perfect white wedding all character there, belabogs gepard and bronya, and crew, the loufu jing yuan and yanqing .

Front pew as fam the star rail crew march best bridesmaid, himeko happy mother-in-law

dad welt blowing his nose as proud father said wasn’t going to cry but is at omg my kids getting married thank god.

-The priest! loucha asking couple to say vows and if anyone object speak now or hold your piece

-and up comes Wedding Crasher! Blade walking slowly and purposely up the aisle says I object with sword by his side

- What why? Chaos as people get to feet ready to fight as he pointa his sword at the couple and say “there is price to pay” and something Dan Heng not being honest and technically already married due to some loufu law which Jing yuan reluctantly confirms.

- However another weird rule on loufu is that its all okay if they technically are all married lol . Basically my wife is your wife.

- Dan Heng not okay with this, Blade pushing it for his revenge, and chaotic! Stelle like okay a 2 for one deal don’t worry Dan Heng I love you enough to marry Blade too.

- Basically, the Yandere! Ex! Blade not over and likes to hold their past relationship over Dan Heng/Feng vs Dan Heng who wants to move on

Dan Heng aghast and against this sudden revelation.

Blade Steals the bride in bridal carry and Dan Heng spars to get her back

Or Blade scoops Dang Heng up and yeets as Stelle chases after Blade murder in her eyes. no one upset the bridezilla on her wedding day lol

Silver wolf & Kafka outside waiting with getaway car.

10x funnier if bride is Trailblazer MC for 10x chaos

+Devolves into a bet for the bride fighting chaos.

Gambler! Sampo taking bets on who will win the bride

Photographer! March shocked cries out “Dan Heng, I never knew you had secret lover!” while taking pictures to document Dan heng big day gone worng.

Best Parents! Himeko & Welt run up to support Dan Heng “We’ll Support you in whatever choice you make” understanding parent think their kid is gay/polymerous/has secret lover where Dan Heng is like “I need battle support! Not mental support.”

Groom! Dan Heng denying “I don’t! I don’t remember this man”

Modern AU a weird amnesia situation maybe where Dan Heng once married to Blade but hit head coma accident lost but found Stelle they fell in love go married but blade shows up to object at wedding .

Jing yuan coughing on the sidelines be like “I tried to tell him….”

Other guys Objecting the marriage saying they like Stelle too in a weird reverse harem situation.

Jing yuan want to Join maybe cuz they all friends lol.

Gepard the gallant childhood friend who never got to confess his feelings until now the worst moment lol “Since everyone else is professing their feelings and if I don’t now I’ll never get to and will regret it. I-”

“NO Gepard don’t bad timing “ Serval his sister interrupting and saving him embrassement

Bailu and Clara in the background cutely confused ask “I thought this was one wedding rather than one with multiple people?”

“Normally that is the case…but at this rate my calculations say no one will be getting married” Mr. Sampo analyzing the situation as chaos unfolds.

#dan heng #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail #male yandere x reader #hsr blade #yandere imagines #stelle hsr #stelle x dan heng #stelle honkai star rail #hsr stelle #stelle #renheng #hsr chaos #honkai star rail mc

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r0-boat · 9 months

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If honkai star rail man had audio accounts, pt.2

Read part 1 here

Gn! reader x Gepard, Welt, Luocha, Dan heng

Nsfw mdi

Cw: dubcon, consent noncon,yandere, creampie

( sorry that part two took so long ahhh, this is the final part for now since there is not enough sexy hsr men besides Luka and I guess Svarog for funsies. If you want me to do Genshin Impact men or make an audio headcanon list for women, let me know.)

Gepard

Man, he took pride in being a wholesome internet boyfriend who would only do sweet little audios of himself role playing as your boyfriend or love interest in different scenarios. And then the Reckoning... he posted an audio where him playing as your knight in shining armor takes a hit for you. And oh boy those gasp and growls and whimpers of pain he did while the reader was patching him up- the people wanted more.

He tried to do NSFW audios before but he couldn't do it his face would turn red and it's hard would be so hard he would clutch his chest. Here he was, a grown man practically on the verge of tears out of embarrassment. What would his coworkers think if they found out what he had done? What would Serval think? Nope, Nope, Nope! He couldn't do it!

But then the Stars aligned and he made a separate account when Gepard posted his first audio. A ramble fap, and oh boy his breath shuttering in the mic has he moans and wimpers, you could even hear him begging. Till now he never really noticed how talkative and, loudish He could be Gepard even try stifling his whines when he got gotten close.

Even though it took everything out of him to finally post it, he had to say it felt nice being praised. He only posted initially because he wanted to make his fans happy. He is a people pleaser, after all. And it did kind of feel nice... he doesn't usually get to let go like that, being his job as a Silvermain Guard and all... there's a lot of stuff he didn't realize about himself.

Pet names

Miss/sir/ma'am/mommy

Sweet heart

Dear

Angel

Welt

It is the skeleton in his closet. His ultimate secret that he moans in a microphone for strangers that like his voice a little too much. His listener is absolutely adore him. His sultry voice and his personality drag people to him like a moth to a flame. He doesn't post very often but when he does everyone is crying and sobbing for more. And he doesn't write his own stuff either it's mostly just Scripts he tries to go along with the script says, but he can't help but sprinkle a little bit of his own kinks in there—praise, worship, oral fixation.

Even when he's stroking himself, he even catches himself murmuring about how much he wants to taste you and how good you are for him, how good you make him feel, and how sexy you are. His audios are always gentler, with lots of kisses and touching in that softer tone that makes you melt. From giving you some much-needed stress relief from a hard day at work to a hot heavy make out session after a dinner.

Sometimes he would make his own Scripts and even have some artwork he Illustrated to go with them. His own scripts and audios are very rare but are very well done, dripping with sexual tension and a good plot. He's pretty much allergic to porn without plot.

Call him crazy but he likes that his audio is put a smile on people's faces he wants to think that his posts brighten people's days he likes being relied on as much as he himself likes someone who he trusts with his life.

Pet names

Sweet heart

Honey

Darling

Luocha

Help, because why can I see his audio is being mostly corruption kink? Even his audios tend to lean more on the darker side. Though not by much, the most you can expect is a pastor who can't help but want someone he had been eyeing that comes to his church or a doctor who, while their patient was unconscious, laid his lips upon them and whispered how much they wanted them.

Mostly does dubcon or cnc; they almost did yandere content but decided not to post it. Even in his darker videos, he still keeps that gentlemanly gentle, sweet attitude with an odd obsessive undertone, perhaps even possessive., which many of his listeners fall for.

When close, his listeners can hear him mutter broken sentences about how good he feels and how wrong this is or how much he needs you before begging to fill you up.

He wants it to feel as real as possible so he gets the good mics the ones where you can feel his breath against your ear, and he always loads his audios with sound effects. He has good quality work, and he enjoys doing it too.

Pet names

Dear

Mine

Beloved

Dan Heng

Dan Heng rarely does scripts almost exclusively makes very short audio where you can hear his hand around his wet cock and his moans; he'll go on and on about whatever lewd thought was on his mind. About how much he needs a tight hole around his cock or something inside of him.

Dan Heng has absolute pan panic. One could only dream about having both at the pussy and cock at the same time, and that is a dream he thinks about constantly when recording new audio for his rabid fans to listen to.

He finally got himself a toy discreetly since his hand wasn't enough, and those grunts and frustrated growls eventually turned into shaky breaths and whimpering, the tight silicone walls proving too much as he tried to keep quiet himself. His hips buck up into the toy itself as he continues edging himself. Dan Heng, almost losing control, rolls his head back, whimpering about how much he wants them. His listeners ate that shit up.

Dan Heng makes very standard vanilla content and hardly ever gets too kinky, where he plays the role of a boyfriend. Sadly Dan Heng isn't too good at acting so the boyfriends he normally plays are people with authority or professionalism since his voice naturally sounds like that.

Pet names

Babe

297 notes · View notes

rin-fukuroi · 2 months

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Hey~ I don’t know if you would agree to write a work with this character, but I feel real despair that there are practically no decent works with this character. Gepard leads in sex. Please… Maybe incest with a yandere or deflowering? I'm so tired of reading Gepard passively and no one understands me.

Hi! (o˘◡˘o)

I think I can help you with that. How about everything at once? I hope this heals your wounds, because I'm also outraged by the fact that many writers describe Gepard as a shy and passive guy as possible, when he is completely different. No, of course he's charming and sweet, but damn, he's the CAPTAIN. He's a man with a core, stubborn and principled, a man who has managed to earn trust, which means he is firm in his beliefs and a sense of justice is not alien to him at all. Of course, he can be gentle with his beloved, but come on, who didn't imagine how his hand in this metal glove squeezes someone's (for example, ours) throat? I imagined it! I don't care about the rest. I'm very glad that I'm not the only one who loves dominant strong men, so I was happy to write this work for you. I hope you like it~

𝐀 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞 [𝐆𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

If you want to support me and read my other works that won't be on Tumblr, you can always do it on my Boosty~

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: dom!older brother!Gepard x sub!fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, incest, yandere, stalking, flogging, light choking, petting, loss of virginity, rape (?), rough public sex, creampie, references to pregnancy.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Poylow, BAUWZ, Nito-Onna - Hate You

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

art by @tksm_66

You love your family, really. Your sisters have always been so kind to you that you could even call them your friends, despite the age difference, but at some points they still made you remember that they are your relatives. Serval can be overly caring, but a Lynx, on the contrary, is freedom-loving, so sometimes you have to return to the role of an older sister, looking after her. And yet you love them. Even Gepard.

Why «even»? It's hard to say exactly where your strange relationship originates from, because you didn't immediately realize that there was something unnatural in them. Does older brother take care of you? Well, all relatives take care of each other, don't they? Does he like to spend all his free time with you? You're probably close enough, and that's great. Does your older brother kiss you, hug you, and take a bath with you? Oh, it's very sweet that he cared and loved his little sister so much as a child.

But your childhood ended a long time ago, and your relationship has not changed at all.

Gepard trying to be unobtrusive, but it turns out to be very lousy. You know that he secretly looks into your phone, studying each of your correspondence, but you don't say anything, because your brother just doesn't want you to get involved with bad people, right? Gepard doesn't want you to live separately, despite the fact that you have been on your feet for a long time and can afford it, but you keep silent and agree, because he just wants you to be there because he wants to protect you. Gepard forbids you to go on dates and get to know other men, but you don't mind, even though you don't understand what he cares about it. Gepard suggests that you take a shower together when the two of you return home, because he always meets you after your shift, despite his own unstable schedule, and you… agree, because this is your brother, there's nothing wrong with that, right?

You're confused. Seeing the relationships in your friends' families, you gradually begin to pay attention to the fact that even between a brother and sister there should be a distance that you and Gepard don't have. Are they crazy or are you?

— Geppie's just worried about you, honey! Don't pay attention, one day he'll definitely calm down, you just have to show him that you have really grown up and no longer need his care.

Serval's words are firmly embedded in your brain, because during this recent conversation, you still didn't understand that, in fact, even the older sister confirmed that what you told her was not quite right. You didn't talk about sharing a bathroom, you didn't talk about how Gepard kisses you on the corner of your lips when he leaves for work in the morning, you didn't talk about how he violates your personal space. Probably, deep down, you really knew that it shouldn't be like this, so you didn't tell the truth.

You love your older brother, you really do. That's why you decided to talk to him first. For some reason, it was so disturbing and exciting to start a conversation, but you are a family, and he'll understand you if you are only sincere, right? It should have been like this.

— You're still young and don't understand that living away from your family will only harm you. I take care of you, I give you everything you want, why do you want to run away so much?

«Because your concern is suffocating me. Because you only give me what you want. You limit me, control me, and forbid me to live my life. It's wrong, it shouldn't be like this…», — you'ld like to say it out loud. These words were already on the tip of your tongue, ready to burst into the air, but they remained buried deep in your throat when you humbly swallowed every objection and dissatisfaction.

— I'm sorry, brother…

His big palm on top of your head and the cold metal from the plate on Gepard's uniform pressing against your face made you feel so… uncomfortable for the first time.

That's why you don't want to go home right now, and you got off early on purpose so you wouldn't have to meet Gepard. You'ld like to share his warm feelings, but you can no longer deceive yourself. It burden you.

You wander among the exhibits of an empty museum, preparing to close, but you don't stop at anything, too immersed in your own thoughts. Even almost all the employees have already gone home. Quietly, calmly. You were not mistaken when you decided to choose this particular place to cool your head a little. But even here, for some reason, it seems to you as if your brother's gaze is following you at every step. You don't remember the last time you went out without him, because Gepard seems to be doing everything on purpose so that you don't even cross paths with your friends on the way home, spending your evenings in his company.

Why are you just now starting to realize how sick you are of his company? It must be terrible to even let the thought that you want your brother to disappear, but… wouldn't it be easier for you to breathe without him?

— Oh, isn't that my old friend's little sister? — a sweet melodious male voice breaks into the silence that presses on you, and at first you don't even understand if this person is addressing you, just briefly turning back, casting an incredulous glance at the stranger. The tall blue-haired man grins, clapping his hands before coming closer as soon as the bright green eyes notice that you have stopped. — Well, that's right! Y/N, yeah?

— Do we know each other?.. — you're frowning, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to look and sound confident, but your posture is as scared and constrained as your thoughts continue to swarm in your head.

— Oh, didn't my dear friend tell you about Sampo? — the theatrical man pretends to be sad, then breaks into a sly grin again. — I suppose it's never too late to introduce ourselves to each other. Although I already know your name, and you just heard Sampo's name… hmm, does that mean that we know each other now?

— P-probably… — you mumble softly, backing away slightly as the tall man bends over, carefully studying your face.

— This is the first time I've seen you not in the company of my friend.

— And I actually see you for the first time, — you smile crookedly, causing Sampo to respond with a soft laugh.

— Don't be shy, my dear friend! — oh, you're wondering why Gepard didn't tell you about this man. — So how can Sampo serve you?

— Huh?

— Oh, what should Sampo do?… The museum is closing soon, and I'm spending time with my new friend for the first time…

— Do you… work here? — you raise an eyebrow in disbelief, to which the man perks up, proudly resting his palm on his side.

— That's right, that's right! Sampo Koski is at your service! — it's unlikely that you'll find a common language with this person.

— May I ask how it happened? I'm sorry, but you don't really look like…

— Ah, it's a long story! — Sampo interrupts, grinning nervously and looking away. — You mean I don't look like a law-abiding citizen? How many times has Sampo heard this, and every time these words break my heart…

— N-no, I didn't mean to offend you, — you stretch out your hand to the man who dramatically clasped his forehead with his palm, but almost immediately pull it back.

— You're so sweet, unlike your brother. Although his indifference and callousness, of course, has its own special charm, — the man's facial expressions change like masks, and now he is smiling again, closing his eyes and leaning closer to your face. — So, I could leave the museum open for a while longer, and we could chat a little longer!

You wrap your arms around your own shoulders, warily meeting Sampo's gaze when he opens his eyes, and you are already opening your mouth to gently refuse the man, when suddenly, with a dull clap, someone's big palm lands on the shoulder of your new "friend".

Sampo straightens up instantly, turning around anxiously. The man's face instantly contorts into an awkward expression when the green eyes meet the cold, sharp gaze of the Captain, who furrowed his eyebrows in anger. You feel your heart jumping in your chest, and your fingers go numb as you convulsively squeeze the hem of your skirt, watching your brother's fist tremble, about to hit Sampo.

— Calm down, calm down, my friend, I was about to leave!

— Why are you with him? — for the first time, you hear the burning anger in your brother's voice when he addresses you, making you cringe in place as soon as the sharp gaze of his blue eyes pins you to the floor.

— I… We were just talking… — tears come to your eyes, and a sharp lump squeezes your throat, muffling your voice, but as soon as you see that Gepard is looking at the nervously grinning Sampo again, your body moves by itself, and you rush forward, convulsively grabbing your brother by the elbow. — I swear, he just came over to say that the museum will close soon! Nothing more!

— Ha ha ha… That's how it was, Sampo didn't want to inconvenience his new friend.…

— Friend? — the blue irises seem to be covered with an icy crust when Gepard squeezes Sampo's shoulder harder, ignoring your pathetic attempts to pull his hand away from the poor man, who now seems to get what he deserves.

— W-we're not friends, this is the first time I've seen him, Gepard, please! — tears slowly begin to roll down your cheeks, and your fingers press harder into the metal on your brother's glove, before he still seems to listen to your pleas, and lets go of Sampo, but still does not take his eyes off him.

— You'd better get as far away as possible, because as soon as I talk to my sister, you'll be next.

Sampo decides not to answer anything, so as not to inflame the atmosphere even more, and just nods briefly, walking behind your brother and turning to you one last time, folding his palms in front of his face and arching his eyebrows in a guilty apologetic expression before hurriedly leaving.

Silence. While you were here alone, this silence was alarming, but now it terrifies you to the point of chilling shivers running down your spine. You've never been afraid of your own brother like you are now. You didn't do anything wrong, you were even honest with him, but… for some reason, the feeling that you made an unforgivable mistake doesn't leave you, becoming more and more distinct as Gepard continues to remain silent, not even meeting your gaze, but just looking somewhere in the aside while you guiltily examine his angry face.

— Brother, I…

— I asked you, — Gepard interrupts, addressing you in a stern tone and finally turning his head, turning his icy gaze on you. — Do you need this? Is this the kind of life you want? So that this trash can just come up and talk to you? Although, I can see that you didn't even mind at all.

— No, it's not like that! I just came here to get some air, and he…

— To get some air? You didn't wait for me, — a big hand in a white glove painfully grabs your wrist, and tears come to your eyes with renewed vigor, blurring the image of your brother looming over you with complete disappointment in his gaze. — Why, Y/N?

— Because I'm tired! — you're choking out, stuttering and sniffing. — I'm not a child anymore, and you are… I can't take a step without you, you're watching me, acting like… — you stop, not daring to say what you were going to say, and Gepard bends even lower to your tear-stained face, staring intently into your reddened eyes.

— Like what? Finish it, Y/N.

— Like… — you inhale the air intermittently, then exhale it back just as jerkily before continuing, hastily trying to blink tears from your eyelashes so that you can see your brother's face as clearly as possible. — Like you're my boyfriend.

The man's lips tighten and the grip on your wrist loosens slightly as the blue eyes continue to stare at you without blinking. You really said that. You were afraid to even admit this thought, but these words slipped out of your mouth by themselves, finally voicing what had been bothering you all these years. Gepard has crossed some line that you didn't even know existed until you felt that his presence was making you suffocate. This has to stop. Now.

— I don't understand, is this a bad thing?

— Wh-what?..

— No one knows you better than I do, and they never will. I won't let that happen, — Gepard's eyebrows furrow, and his free hand settles on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. — Why do you want other men so much? What can they give you that I can't?

It's like a bad… bad, bad dream. The ringing in your ears drowns out Gepard's words, and your brother's arm falls limply from his elbow until he presses you against the wall with the painting. The grip on your wrist strengthens again when Gepard forcefully lifts and presses your hand against the cold concrete, pulling you out of your stupor and returning you back to the disgusting reality from which you are trying to fight off with your free palm, but it also suffers the same sad fate.

— Let me go! I don't understand what you're talking about.… We are a family! — you squirm weakly in Gepard's grip as he shackles your wrists above your head, freeing one hand to grab your throat with it. Not too much, but enough to obstruct your breathing.

— Exactly, Y/N, we are a family, — there seemed to be no trace of the sweet caring Gepard. A completely different person is looking at you now. Obsessed, violent, completely inaudible and not listening to what you're trying to tell him. — But you stopped appreciating what I do for you, you don't appreciate how much I value you.

— I appreciate it! But you're my brother, damn… Let me go, Gepard, please… — you start crying again, writhing in your brother's grip, still hoping that he just had a bad day, and if he sees your tears now, he will be the same again… And your pathetic hopes are justified when you feel like a gloved hand releases your neck, allowing you to take a full deep breath.

— I've been so stupid all this time when I thought you understood me. I thought you were old enough to make the right choice, but no, you are still the same child in the body of an adult who has never been punished for misconduct, so now you can afford to be naughty.

— Gepard?.. — you call out to your brother almost in a whisper, anxiously trying to look into his eyes, but his gaze is fixed somewhere down while he hurriedly pulls the belt out of his trousers.

— If you haven't managed to grow up, then, as an older brother, I'm obliged to raise you, — after these words, you don't even have time to open your lips to answer anything, at least something to Gepard, before you are forcibly turned around and pressed face to the wall, and your hands are painfully wrung behind your back tearing a plaintive cry out of his strangled throat.

— Gepard! Brother, I beg you… that's enough, let's go home! Forgive me!

He's not listening. You can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze on your own body as he lifts up your skirt and casually pulls your underwear down your legs.

— Forgive you? I'm not mad at you, Y/N, — even his voice is cold, sending uncontrollable shivers through my skin. Gepard is silent for a moment, but the back of your head is squeezed by some unpleasant premonition, before your ass is struck by an unbearably burning pain from the whiplash of the belt. The air is knocked out of your clenched lungs, and your nails reflexively dug into your own palms when the walls of the museum heard your heart-rending scream.

— G-Gepard! Please!.. — you scream when you feel some movement behind your back, realizing that your brother swung again, after which another portion of pain stung your flesh.

— I'm just disappointed...

The man mumbles indifferently, ignoring your attempts to escape and hoarse screams, interrupted by coughing when you start choking on your own tears and saliva. And then Gepard strikes again.

— And I have to correct my own mistake.

Blue eyes coldly watch as your flesh turns red, and the stripes from the belt swell on your skin, but Gepard strikes again, and then again, without losing sight of a single shudder of your poor body. You've always been a defenseless little sister to him, whom Gepard so desperately wanted to protect. For himself.

How can you get to someone else? He raised you, he gave you a love that no one in this world is capable of giving you, he was there for you, sharing joys and sorrows with you. You have to choose him. He doesn't accept any other outcome.

The last blow turned out to be more painful than all the previous ones, as if all the disappointment and anger that you awakened in Gepard were now imprinted on your body with pulsating bruises and burning pain, pulling more and more tears from your squeezed eyes.

— I didn't want to hurt you, Y/N … — Gepard says with a barely perceptible note of sadness in his voice, bowing his head and pressing his forehead to the top of your head. — But otherwise you'll slip away from me… I can't let that happen.

You just sniffle and sob softly, pressing your face against the wall, feeling the blood rise to the places where Gepard's fingers continue to press into the skin of your wrists with force. Has he always been like this? Your brother couldn't have changed in a few miserable minutes. You just didn't notice, did you? You didn't notice how obsessed he was with you.

— I should have punished you, but… let me make it up to you and show you that I can be more than just a brother to you.

You barely catch your brother's words because of the ringing that continues to crash into your ears, but for some reason his gentle, guilty tone involuntarily tightened your stomach and nausea rose in your throat, as if now you missed the words that you should have heard, but you don't want to listen so much. You hear the metal belt buckle hitting the floor of the museum, catch the muffled rustle of clothes, feel Gepard's warm palm making its way down your stomach and settling between your legs, and reflexively squeeze your hips, opening your eyes in fright.

— N-no, what are you…?

— Relax, Y/N. I know you, I know what you like… — the rough pads of your fingers press on the dry clitoris, sending an unpleasant wave of pleasure through your body. — If you think there's something I can't help you with, then that's not the case. If you need a lover, I'll be him for you, — Gepard's lips press against your hair, and his fingers gently massage the treacherously trembling lump, slowly sliding down between the folds until your brother feels the sparsely released moisture, exhaling contentedly and returning back to the clitoris. — See? Your body reacts to me, doesn't that prove that I'm not just a brother to you?

— Stop it, please… I can't… — you break into sobs, clenching your teeth and closing your eyes in resignation, feeling something hot and hard pushing insistently between your closed thighs. — Please, at least not here…

— Are you afraid that someone will hear us? I sent Eris home, we're alone. Unless your new friend decided to stay and watch.

— I… I'm a virgin, brother, please… — even a whisper sounds so hoarse, coming off your tongue after screams tearing at your throat, but you still find the strength to speak, without losing hope that this will stop Gepard.

— I know. The fact that I'm going to be your first man should finally make you look at me differently, shouldn't it?

— I… don't know… Ng-h! — you cry out in pain as Gepards's hips press against your bruised bottom and his cock penetrates between your thighs before sliding back out, now resting against your narrow entrance.

— It's okay, just trust me, — Gepard says soothingly, gently but persistently pressing on your closed thighs with his knee, effortlessly forcing them apart.

Resilient hot flesh slowly enters the vagina, stretching the virgin walls, and your body is hit by a new, unknown pain. It's too big. You feel your walls bursting at the seams around his cock, indifferently continuing to make its way deep into the vagina, accompanied by your stifled sobs and exhausted screams. The incessant movements of your brother's fingers massaging the clitoris slightly dampen the painful sensations of the first penetration, but this is still not enough.

Gepard's hot breath burns your scalp when it finally enters you completely, stopping for a few seconds, giving you time to get used to it. As if a few measly moments would be enough to get used to the idea of your own brother's cock inside you, whose hands never loosened their grip, holding your wrists firmly against your back.

— Just be patient for a while. I promise this pain will go away, don't you believe me?

You're not answering. Impotence is so disgusting that you feel like you're about to throw up, and maybe Gepard would even stop if it turned you inside out, but it doesn't happen. Your head is so heavy, and even behind your closed eyelids you can feel everything spinning uncontrollably. You are afraid to open your eyes, afraid to believe that what is happening now is real.

But no matter how hard you try to deny it, everything is happening for real. Gepard really carefully kisses the top of your head, really pulls out his cock from your insides, leaving only the head bleeding from the ejaculate in the vagina, then slowly filling you again, and his fingers really massage your clitoris, causing treacherous arousal, from which you are overcome with even greater nausea.

Why are you pleased? Because he's your brother? No, that's not right. You should hate him, should hate yourself for your body not obeying, enjoying the even still slightly painful languid thrusts.

But you… enjoy it.

Every time when Gepard comes out of you, tiny drops of blood seep out, mixed with the transparent juices of treacherous arousal, trickling down your thighs. You hear your brother's voice murmuring reassuringly into your hair, but you can't make out a word, catching only the nasty ringing that has settled in the depths of your ears.

You're so narrow inside, so warm and pleasant, just like Gepard imagined. He's a little embarrassed to admit even to himself that he did sometimes imagine your first sex when he took a shower with you. Your body has changed so much, you have become such a beauty, isn't it natural that he was aroused by your naked body?

And now it belongs to him.

Your brother feels so good that he inevitably becomes greedy, speeding up the pace, just assuming that now you won't be hurt anymore. This bliss that he is experiencing now is so alluring and seductive, he just can't help himself. Of course, Gepard would like this to happen in a more intimate setting, under more pleasant circumstances, but the anger that you made him feel while talking to Sampo has been reborn into this perverted desire that he cannot control.

Just once… Just once, won't you let your brother show weakness?

— No one… I won't let anyone talk to you, see you, touch you anymore… — thoughts break out of Gepard's tongue by themselves, and he doesn't even notice how his thrusts have become rougher, and his groin began to slash into your mutilated ass.

You're so hot, it's so hard to breathe, but what scares you even more is the strangely growing feeling in your lower abdomen. You don't know what it is, but for some reason you are sure that you should not give in to it, you should resist. However, it still wins up over and over again, spreading in scalding waves under the skin.

Your pulse vibrates so clearly under the pads of Gepard's fingers, and something comes out of your strangled throat that sounds more and more like the moans he dreamed of. It's too much, you're too good, too perfect. He can cum inside you, won't you mind? If suddenly you can get pregnant from him… How wonderful your children will be, can you imagine?

A few more careless thrusts, a few rough presses on your clitoris, and your brother feels you clench even tighter around his cock, and your back arches even under the pressure of his hand.

— That's it… Feel it, Y/N... Remember that only I can give you such pleasure… — a restrained moan, more like a growl, escapes from the man's throat, and the last ruthless thrust makes your chest painfully crash into the wall.

Your insides feel numb, but you still feel something viscous filling you when your brother's cock freezes and now pulsates so clearly in the spasming walls.

— You're mine… Do you hear it, Y/N? You belong only to me… — Gepard whispers to you as the last drops of sperm flow out of the urethra of his cock. — I'll never leave you. I'll never betray you. Just don't… don't try to replace me anymore.

You open your eyelids slightly, watching the tears fall from your trembling eyelashes and hit the floor under your feet.

If this isn't a nightmare that looks so disgustingly like reality, then what is?..

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #gepard #gepard x you #gepard x reader #gepard smut #hsr smut

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kiskyz · 8 months

Text

"The Upper Hand"

honestly the reader is kinda like sampo... anyways i hope you enjoy!!

TW: general yandere stuff

“That’s another 300,000 Oneiric Shards gone.” Bronya rubbed her head. “I don’t think I have to explain why this is bad.”

Gepard lowered his head in humiliation, “My apologies Lady Bronya.”

“I have a lot of faith in you Captain Gepard, but my patience is dwindling.” Bronya sat down. “Arrest them.”

Gepard put his fist over his heart, “Of course Lady Bronya!”

“You’re dismissed.” She said tiredly.

Gepard said his farewell before leaving. A few other guards followed him chatting quietly.

“I’ve never seen anyone besides that odd blue-haired guy, outrun the Captain.”

“I know, even Lady Bronya is getting annoyed.”

Their whispers weren’t unheard by the skillful man in question. Despite the disrespect, he couldn’t argue with them. Everything they said was the truth.

You.

You’re always causing chaos around Jarilo-VI, costing hundreds of thousands of Oneiric Shards in damage. You even dare to leave behind notes at the scene of the crime.

Gepard’s fist clenched just thinking of those little pieces of paper. They’re clearly just there to annoy him, but he still always reads them. The subject of your notes varies from puns about the crime to talking about him.

Another thing that you do that gets under his skin is when he just misses you and you wave him goodbye. Sometimes you’ll even strike up a conversation with him.

After months of analyzing you and your crimes, he has been able to somewhat accurately guess when and where you will strike next. Although there isn’t a clear pattern, there is one.

He walked to his office as irritation started eating away at him.

What gives you the right to think that you can continuously commit crimes, leave behind as much evidence as you please, and get away with it?

He sat down at his desk and pulled out the folder with documents and notes on you. He had to try and predict your next actions.

Gepard isn’t dumb, but he’s not the smarter of the twins. So when he got stuck, he sought out Serval. She helped him figure out your hidden pattern.

When he thought of the pattern and this last crime he realized something very important.

You’re a very sporadic individual. Most of the things you do are on a whim and it's the same with crime. You didn’t dream of being a criminal, but one day you thought it might be fun, so you tried it.

You weren’t surprised when you got on the top wanted list. In all fairness, you’ve committed numerous serious crimes. You may even be considered a terrorist.

Sometimes you’d stay behind and watch from a distance as the authorities arrived at the scene and that's when you saw him. Captain Gepard.

At the time he looked to where you were but you luckily ducked behind a wall to avoid being seen.

As time went on, you thought it’d be fun to tease him a bit. Crimes were fun, but it was getting a bit boring and despite his high ranking, he’s a bit dense.

So you wrote notes on pieces of paper and sometimes even on the wall/ground.

Now at the present, you wonder where to go next. You don’t like going to the same location, but you’re running out of options. You debated yourself a bit and decided on the most obvious place.

The train station.

“The most obvious place is the most entertaining!”

You blinked a couple of times, completely mentally removing yourself from the situation at hand.

You’re chained to a chair in a cold interrogation room. A blonde man stared you down across the table you were sitting at.

“Haha Captain Gepard you got me all wrong!” You sweated.

“Do I?” His voice was cold.

“Y-yeah! I’m actually sort of a… vigilante! And if you let me go I swear I’ll stop!” You tried to sound convincing.

Gepard stared at you blankly and you made an apologetic face.

You wondered what was going through his head.

He finally moved and left the room.

“Hah?!” You huffed.

Maybe you can manage to get out of these handcuffs while he’s gone.

Gepard smiled at the guards outside the room, “Tell everyone to go home early to celebrate finally capturing the criminal who caused us such a headache. I’ll finish everything here!”

“Captain Gepard! Are you sure..?”

He nodded, “Make sure to tell everyone else.”

“Of course!”

The 2 guards walked away.

Geprad stood outside the room, waiting till he thought everyone was gone.

When he finally caught you after so long, he realized something. Despite all the frustration and annoyance you’ve caused him, he’s become enamored by you.

He finally enters the room when he’s sure everyone is gone.

He walks to where you sat.

“W-what can I do for you, Captain!” You sweat.

He had an odd expression on his face.

“First you can stay in the handcuffs.” He quickly grabs your wrists before you have time to react.

“Haha, would you look at that! I didn’t even notice…” You looked away.

You were once again, handcuffed to the chair.

You expected all of this. This was all according to your plan. Definitely…

“What did you expect was going to happen?” Gepard sat on the table in front of you, his eyes looking down at you.

You rolled your eyes, he was so dramatic.

A hand came at you with force, only to land on the chair, just above your shoulder.

“Gepa-” You began.

“Captain Gepard.” He said.

“Ok then, Captain Gepard! You-” You were once again interrupted.

“Did you really think you’d get away with all those crimes. With all those jokes.” He said annoyed.

You shook your head, “It’s all a misunderstanding!!”

“Why leave the notes?” He asked.

You held back your smile, “Well…“

He slammed down a note next to him.

You shifted your body to read it. When you read the text you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Read it.” He said.

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow and smile. If he asked how could you refuse! Though it was a bit odd how his voice hasn’t been holding a clear emotion, anger or annoyance.

“You’re pretty pathetic to not be able to catch me. Are you really the captain?” You couldn’t read it with a straight face, barely holding back your laughter.

It wasn’t that it was super funny, it was just the memory from when he first read it. His hands had tightened their grip and he threw it on the ground.

When you first saw his reaction you cringed, but you also realized just how much of an advantage you had over him. You were much smarter and always one step ahead of him.

“Sorry! You see these notes were just-” You remembered the fact that this man was the one who had you in custody.

A hand grabbed your jaw, lifting your head up to meet his. He had gotten a lot closer, faces centimeters apart.

“Who has the upper hand now?” Gepard leaned in.

#yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere gepard #yandere gepard x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fic #male yandere #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #honkai star rail☁️💕#fic☁️💕

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throwaway-yandere · 10 months

Text

What HaPpEneD aT 10:10? (Yandere!"Gepard Landau"/Reader)

Scriptwriter's Note: I implore you to remember what happened at 10:10. And once you do, come talk to three of my associates. For now, let her help you recall what's going on in the present time. You can remember the time, but we need you to remember the murder weapon, who killed who, and the motive.

Synopsis: Trapped in Serval Landau’s basement for so long, you made a deal with the Sampo to escape confinement. As it turns out, your timing is never impeccable. Aka: a Belobog "murder" mystery. (A/n: ansy here, have fun trying to guess what happened! But please. PLEASE do not read this if you're sensitive to the topics below ⬇)

CW: Yandere and horror themes, "most unreliable narrator AND reader ever" - sam, violence, amputation, mentions of domestic (physical) abuse. His smile is stiff as a board. There’s a portal at the end of the story, your choices matter (there are 2 possible endings). Welcome to the Back Alley.

A murder was announced to occur on Saturday, October 2, at the Golden Theater’s back alley, around 10:10 AM.

It was an unidentified note. Short and crudely pasted cutouts from old magazines were its contents. Many believe the Astral Express put it together as a twisted joke. It’s no coincidence that the clocks' little hands near the theater were also forever stuck at 10:10. No one took it seriously. Additionally, a nearby bookshop used this opportunity to "hype" its mystery books by joining the bandwagon. While the Silvermane Guards officially took the "threat" as if it didn't exist, others transformed it into an event by creating crime scene props with March 7th and Stelle serving as the main judges.

Who'd even investigate such a note when the Golden Theater doesn’t have a back alley?

By 5:00 AM, that silly note was not at the forefront of the Silvermane Guards' minds.

It was you.

Sampo shakily exhaled a quick "heya, friend," as his legs continued to speed past the Silvermane Guards, who were all very much ready to fire. The merchanr was forced to inhale sharply and slightly elevate his voice as he worriedly fixed his attention on his 'package.'

"Y-You're good, aren't you?"

Inside the shopping cart (who knows where he got that) he had been pushing was a wanted person. A bit feverish, you nodded without much commitment. Even the slightest movements relieved the dubious merchant as he picked up the pace, avoiding the stray "warning" shots that were fired near.

Today, you didn't awaken in the house where you were held captive. There were no mechanical noises or loud drilling. However, your morning did begin with your flesh awkwardly molding against the metal grid patterns of the shopping cart. There was no complaining when you realized it was your old friend Sampo who had carried and set you down. You didn't even consider asking this man where he was taking you.

Days earlier, he had paid you a covert visit and explained his strategy. So you concluded that he was the one who made the "false" murder announcement public. He also implied that little Hook made the note. Your gut tells you that even while it makes sense to assume that she is the author of that absurd announcement, it doesn't seem to be the truth. But at that point, your fears of being tubed with immoral equipment vanished and you felt gratitude rather than alarm. Not that you'd ever figure out that I made it, anyways.

"S-Sampo…" You groaned, not moving from your position as your friend fished out his homemade bombs from his pocket. "W-Where are you taking me…?"

Anywhere is better than her basement.

"To Nat, of course!" You needn't tilt your head to know that he was smiling wide. "Is there any other doctor more reliable than Miss Natasha?"

You'd insensitively joke about Vache Harrower, but your strength betrays you. Not like he'd give you a chance to drop some smart-alecks when he timed his bombs right.

Just a few short seconds after, your best friend rolled his smoke bombs on the floor and made a larger dash. You heard a tremendous boom from the back, and a silent malicious voice in your skull hoped for injuries.

They worked with her.

Jolting you up, Sampo made one swift left turn and another to the right, making sure that the last remaining guards that trailed you both were lost in the haze. He didn't stop running, but you can tell he's getting tired. Sampo is a merchant, not the sister of the ex-Captain of the Silvermane Guards.

Your nose scrunched.

Serval Landau… that paranoid woman and lousier liar…

The oldest Landau used to be your best friend along with Pela. She had treated you as though you were Gepard's twin at times, much to your discomfort. Even her parents referred to you as their kin.

Since you had no one to care for you as a child, the Landaus happily raised you. Had you not rejected their offers for adoption, your life certainly wouldn't be where it is now.

Back "home", Serval would make suggestions that you were more of a Landau than she’d ever be. In turn, you’d cock your head and look unamused. Then act more like one, you’d reply. Yet these forceful encouragements do not reach her.

Even when you beg her to let you out of the house, she won’t let you.

We’ve been over this before, she’d reply. I can’t let you out on your own. You’re missing your right leg, what if that man finds you?

You’ve never understood that logic. Who was she referring to, your old boss?

Her brother died a year ago.

You once liked him. You'd even go out of your way to say he was worthy of anyone's trust.

Was. That was before you knew that deep in the recesses of his mind that loyalty was the beginning and end of Captain Gepard Landau's character. Uniting men under his leadership, he sought only the best for his beloved Belobog.

Your mind drives memories of Gepard away and you can no longer remember what transpired to cause this. After all, you undoubtedly considered Serval and Lynx to be sisters, but you never thought of him as a brother. You can't exactly pinpoint why you treated him like that since the very beginning.

Based on your shattered memories, you were stripped away of your position as his aide. Serval claimed it was because you didn't harbor traits of self-preservation. She made a show of how unreliable you were on the field, that you were hysterical and a "liability." Their relentless critique went on for half an hour until the higher-ups had given in to her demands.

Worse, they permitted her to surveil your movements 24/7. Using your amputated leg as an excuse, she effectively put you on house arrest– not your home, but hers. She's not an effective caretaker either, despite her attempts. Serval's use of transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation is far more brutal than what a normal practitioner would do, but no one can hear your complaints except for Molly. Her tests are never comfortable. And you loathe this.

She acted like your loss of a leg turned you into damaged goods that only the siblings can see value in. That her giving you a prosthetic was a sign of love rather than a shackle.

They said you were “hysterical”, and that you should be forgiven for whatever sin you’ve committed.

Insulting.

Insulting. Insulting. Insulting.

"H-How closer are we to the underground?" You gripped the cart, your heart racing at the speed.

Sampo coughed after accidentally inhaling his smoke.

“S-Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t change the direction of the cart–”

“What?!”

“The cart won’t turn!!!” Sampo screamed.

With each passing second, the gap between the cart and the theater narrowed. Your heart raced as this was your first experience of real danger after being sheltered for a year or so. Even though you were aware that Sampo had no control over the impending crash, you still glanced at him expectantly.

He smiled, drop-dead nervous and boyishly sheepish.

"Give me two minutes!!!"

"Give me two minutes, Captain!!! We still need a few more."

You beamed, holding your axe to chop wood for your comrades in the Outlying Snow Plains.

At first, you weren't trusted with heavy weapons. Luckily, being "weak" is a curable ailment for everyone. And the cure is called hard work and extreme effort. That, and an axe.

You were the very definition of a model soldier and he found himself incredibly lucky to finally see you join the Silvermane Guards. You had an excellent posture; you were a sharpshooter and a wonderful axeman– even your breathing looks rehearsed.

And for a damn good reason.

When the Height's economy sneezes, the underground catches a cold.

Unfortunately, that means children as young as you were had to bear the flames.

The Landau parents had taken a shine to you after taking you as a servant from the orphanage. Your captain's father adored you, even though his never-smiling voice had not once indicated his affection. Captain Gepard bears resemblances from his old man in appearance but not his military demeanor; you were the one to hold that torch.

It was through Mr. Landau you learned how much metrics and timings make a difference between an animal and a human being. You grew from someone who skitters away dynamically like a gas particle to a person grounded with instructions on how each step in a stride must be measured to perfection. Growing up with the Landaus was by no means a happy life, but it made you more keen on what constitutes "proper living."

To you, being hit by vases and chairs for failing to fold Mr. Landau's clothes in exactly the way he wants them to be was preferable to dying in the streets with your grandmother with nothing to fill your stomach other than the restaurant trash cans nearby. And you were certain you brought more pride and joy to Mr. and Mrs. Landau than you had to your parents who had abandoned you since birth.

People see Mr. Landau when they look at you and not Gepard.

But that's only because they have never seen the way you behave when it's only you and the Landau siblings are together.

“Working hard, I see,” Gerard said in a light joking manner.

You scratched your neck, embarrassed.

“Nah, I’m actually very lazy.”

“Don’t be so self-effacing,” Gepard smiled kindly. “I don’t miss anything. I’ve heard that you’ve made your rounds and even took on some of Pela’s duties while she’s on leave.”

“Eh, we both know I wouldn’t have done it without Pela begging me to do it for her Tales of– nevermind, Captain.”

Gepard had always viewed your abilities with the greatest reverence and approval. Serval was always quick to emphasize how her "favorite non-blood related sibling" is an "uninhibited performer" before everyone else, so Gepard thought this true in every aspect. You must think of this as writing a song to keep your mind sharp. You lose any sense of reservation once in “the zone”, and if Serval fell for the way your brows furrowed when penning down tunes and lyrics, Gepard faltered when he saw the glint in your eye as you pieced all the information needed to catch Sampo Koski’s whereabouts after your promotion.

He had never told you this, but Gepard always felt weird sensations pooling in his chest whenever he saw you hyper-focused on something.

Or someone.

“Do you think I can catch him, Geppie?”

Gepard ruffled your hair and your face brightened up.

"Never falter, (Y/n),” he said firmly. “For I wholeheartedly believe in your strengths. Catching Sampo Koski will be a walk in the park for someone like you."

To think that your first caught infamous criminal is your last true friend… Destiny surely toys with those who say “That’ll never happen.” It's always a fun phenomenon to write a script about.

“Walk in a park”? Try “crash in a theater”.

“SAMPO!!!”

You yelped, clawing his shirt and yanking his upper body like a wild animal. His heels screeched as the cart faced the direction of the Golden Theater.

And what nestled near the Golden Theater was its Back Alley, a place that exists on the border between reality and myth. Whispers among children weave tales that those who enter the depths are trapped in a journey of confronting their unresolved trauma and guilt. It is believed that the alley acts as another dimension where the lost must face their inner demons before emerging back into the real world, scarred forever by the distorted horrors they have confronted.

And for the first time in your life, you saw it.

You saw a fence that was never there before.

Your heart dropped.

“SAMPO!!!”

He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact alongside you.

Sampo Koski lived by a particular quote: "True happiness always entails the manifestation of the dignity of mankind,”

And only a few knew that it's only 1/3 of the full quote. The next part includes: “and true guilt is the catalyst for self-reflection and the pursuit of redemption–"

Flickering street lights and unmoving 10:10 clocks cast eerie shadows of dawn. It’s said that the people who traverse its trails encounter manifestations of their inner turmoil, a reflection of their deepest regrets. Some emerge transformed, carrying newfound clarity, while others head on a downward spiral.

He wondered which one you would be.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

Sampo smirked…

And let go of the cart.

“But the Back Alley is waiting for you.”

His hands, calloused but clean, tenderly held yours. You felt ice even without a metal ring wrapped around his finger. At that thought, you blinked.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Yes, dear?"

"You don't have a ring on you," you said with an unreadable expression. "Will we ever have a chance at getting married?"

You thought it was funny; he didn't.

We.

What did you mean by “we”?

Him and you?

Or you and someone else?

Surely you and him, right?

But is that really an idea that he needs to know?

The Supreme Guardian was right.

Doubt breeds arrogance.

“W-Well–” Gepard’s breath hitched, awkwardly fumbling his cuffs. “I don’t know about that.”

You muttered. “So the future's uncertain.”

“Of course.”

“Hmm.”

He gulped, realizing that you were mad at his response.

But he can’t let any of this continue any longer.

“(Y/n), I have something I’d like to tell you…”

“Nghh….”

You heard the shopping cart roll towards a wall– must be the same one you crashed onto. As you caught a glimpse of your surroundings, you were astounded to see how foggy it was. The wall-mounted advertisement for a love-matching service is hardly visible. It was impossible to see past the surrounding streetlight, even with "un-smoke bombed" eyes.

Doesn’t look like you’re in the administrative district.

You cannot see a single familiar building from this fog.

No heaters in sight and your breath practically singed your throat. The fog prickled your skin, but for reasons unknown, you did not shudder as a feverish man would’ve. Strangely enough, you felt fine.

You tried squinting at the road again.

Your heart dropped.

... There was no road.

You can't tell if it's the snow and the fog– but there's no pavement towards the exit in sight. It's as if wherever you stood floated. It was a literal dead end. As you peaked into the cliff, you did not see the bottom.

There was nothing there.

Even if you tried jumping, you weren't sure if there would be anything to fall on.

Capable arms wrapped themselves around your form. They were far stronger than your eyelids, which would barely open. Semi-automatically, your hand reached for this person’s shoulder, attempting to reposition yourself from their hold. You can barely make out their face, but their hair was slightly darker. This stranger lacked the envy-inspiring golden allure that the Landaus have.

Not processing that information fast enough, you spoke.

“S-Sampo, wh-what happened–”

You went pale.

No.

You pushed this "man" aside and dropped to the ground, barely maintaining balance on your one remaining leg. The man has now grown to be a towering figure over you, his star-bright eyes peering at you, paranoid. The air felt heavy, laden with a palpable sense of the unknown. Only the sound of your lonesome "real" foot scurrying away broke the silence.

“A-Are you alright?! W-What’s wrong....? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The man sauntered closer. His light but lifeless eyes locked onto yours, piercing through your soul. He had dirty blonde hair and he wore a sweater similar to the one that you never got to give to your best friend's younger brother, but–

“G-Gepard…?!?!”

The man tilted his head.

You squinted, hoping to find solace in a detail you might’ve missed or so.

Finally, your shoulders slackened, exhaling a large white cloud.

“No… You’re… not.”

He sent you a fleeting look of pity before making an awkward joke.

“Do I look similar to a past lover?”

His smile is stiff as a board.

“No— my— my deceased… boss…” You spoke bitterly.

This person, who looked eerily similar to the dead Gepard Landau, stared with red-rimmed eyes. Did he cry earlier? With nothing else to focus on except for the thick fog, you remain frozen in place.

“This is…”

Terrifying, you wanted to say but that would be offensive.

“Impressive…” You gawked, slowly forgetting the vulnerable position you left yourself in. Sharply, you drew a breath. “You look like you could be a Landau.”

Your hand reached to touch his cheek, and the stranger leaned into your touch. Far too engrossed by this encounter, you did not care for his slightly hollow eyes and more than elated expression. It was the bigger picture that you saw.

It was the near-perfect image of the deceased Gepard Landau.

His skin was pinkish and his heart raced.

“Your hand is warm…” He commented softly, face red.

“Your face, your voice— it’s just your hair and your sense of fashion that’s different, and—”

“My name is Gerard,” his smile remains stiff as a board, but there's a touch of friendliness to it. “I don’t believe I appear anywhere near ghostlike.”

You’re inclined to believe that he’s lying.

No one can look THIS similar to Gepard.

And that name as well.

You don’t know what to think.

As you were about to retract your hand, he held it back in place, guiding it closer to his lips. He breathed in. His breath marked the fog. “Gerard” inched closer, stepping his foot near your prosthetic right leg. With little distance between you two, your temperature has progressively grown hotter. It’s uncomfortable watching you both like this. I should’ve closed my eyes.

“See?” He mumbled.

“Can you sense how warm I am?”

“So you’re not Gepard… Or a ghost, I guess.”

You laughed to yourself. You’re not sure about your statement, either.

But while this man may appear friendly, his eyes were a haunting reminder that some things can never truly be left behind.

“As I have stated before, my name is Gerard.”

Even his name sounds like his.

“I-I’m sorry, I was dazed,” You pinched your temple. Without his warmth, the cold bit your cheeks which made you turn around. “T-Thank you for carrying me out of that shopping cart, Gep– Gerard.”

You looked around again. Nothing to see but fog. Far from surprising.

“Gerard, where are we?”

The dirty blonde man laughed.

“The Theater’s Back Alley.”

“The Back Alley?” You scoffed quietly, contemplating on how Gepard insisted to you before that it never existed– and now his promiscuous doppelganger is arguing otherwise. “There aren’t any back alleys around the theater.”

This place doesn’t look like an alley.

It’s far too large for it to fit the description. This must be an abandoned town. Unbeknownst to both of you, way before your time, this place was called Chernobog.

“Yes there is,” Gerard hummed. “It’s where we are now.”

“Then can you carry– lead me back to the main district?” You decided to humor him. “I’m not supposed to be wherever this place is.”

“I wouldn’t allow it.”

“Why not?”

Gerard grinned. His radiant smile baffled you as his demeanor changed from slightly teasing to tender from just the crinkles of his eyes.

“Because I love you, of course. I can't just let you leave.”

You froze.

Why? Why does he speak as if it ever so slightly comes from the diaphragm as he did?

Why does his voice sound so much like Gepard’s?

You thought it was wrong.

Gepard would never say those words.

Not to you. Never.

As Gerard’s casual confession hung amidst the fog, a peculiar heaviness settled on your heart. It wasn't the words themselves that caused this unease but rather the haunting resemblance his voice had to Gepard’s. His voice was rich with authenticity, free of malice, and his confession was short but somehow sweet.

But you didn’t want to hear that from him.

You averted your gaze. A flood of memories had suddenly surfaced at that precise moment, including the hearty sound of Gepard's laughter. It appeared as though the dead had come back to play a cruel game. Unable to bear his comfortable “joke”, you recoiled and feigned deafness, face veiled behind an indifferent mask. Perhaps the Aeon of Preservation may have advocated for this. In a sense, perhaps denial meant safety. Silently, you begged for your thoughts to stop, for the resemblance to dissipate, and for the ache of grief to be buried again.

“Back on the topic at hand, if you wish to exit the Back Alley: I don’t wish to help you,” he smiled.

His smile is always stiff as a board.

“Why not stay here? Are you not a wanted person?”

You glared.

“How did you know that?”

“Murder, right?” Gerard drawled, his eyes softening in what you call disgusting pity. “Someone important. Someone that made you stuck here.”

“Stop making accusations,” you spat, offended by his left-field slander.

“I’m not,” Gerard said. “I know who you killed. How about you? Do you remember who it was?”

Silence.

“But that doesn’t matter now,” he announced firmly. “Why don’t you come with me? Let me shield you from the monsters.”

You froze.

“Mon… sters?”

“Yes, monsters.”

Unexpectedly, a far-off wail of sirens and static radio pierced the air, disorienting. There was nothing to be seen when you lifted your chin to strain your ears in search of the source. Gerard's urgent voice broke through your daze.

"Run."

With a swift and practiced motion, he swept you off your feet, cradling you in his arms back to the position you woke up in. He knew your current prosthetics were not meant for running. A prosthetic limb is like a new fingerprint and Serval would never make your new identity one similar to escapists. At the moment, you had a prosthetic leg for everyday use, and not blades for running.

As Gerard hurriedly carried you through the dense fog, you felt no sense of security as you had before. Something lurked just beyond your line of sight. In an act of spur-of-the-moment bravery, you stole a glance over Gerard's shoulder, and thus, you were paralyzed.

What emerged from the depths of the fog were grotesque “figures”.

Their bodies were mutilated, with their arms hanging loosely at their sides. They reared their heads, twisting and contorting. It was humanoid in stature, blanched and nearly armless. If it were not for some tissues, you were certain they wouldn’t have arms to begin with. Their flesh seemed boiled together like patchworks of human remains. They started to inch closer, their movements disjointed.

Fear coursed through your veins as you realized their intentions were set upon you and Gerard. But his voice cut through, his words not faltering.

"Hold on tight," he said steadily.

“Whatever you do, don’t let them get to you, (Y/n),” Gerard whispered.

“Please, do it for me.”

For the duration of “dawn”, Gerard carried you to safe locations. You have not met a single human person throughout the day. This was a concerning observation after knowing how large the “alley” was. He knew the area like the back of his hand and successfully guided you to hospitals (which, unfortunately, had more of those monsters from before) to patch some minor wounds from Sampo's “shopping cart trip” mishaps.

Before you could walk to the hospital bed, he grabbed your wrist in a tight hold.

“Shhh…” Gerard tugged your arm. “You don’t need to walk. Please, permit me to carry you.”

Despite your whispered protests, he rarely let you move around. Which made sense since your staggering did alert them of your location.

But you don’t like the way he touches you.

Those Gepard-like eyes lingered on you as if he were trying to memorize every inch of your skin. His actions were marked by an unwavering vigilance, always on guard for the slightest sign of danger even when you encouraged him to relax a bit. It was as if he was driven by an unspoken longing or unresolved past experiences. And you've only just met.

This time he made sure to turn off his radio. Suspiciously enough, "Gerard" carried a Silvermane Guard issued radio but it only seemed to make sounds whenever danger lurks by.

You tried not to think about that. Save for the dusty bed and wispy drapes, the posters strewn across the hospital walls caught your attention. The wall didn't have anything else notable other than those prints. They must be the same ones you saw on the streets, yellowed with age. The prints ranged from love hotlines, anger management tips, and a wanted poster.

Your poster.

Unlike the previous ones, this one was preserved thoughtfully, plastered right at the center amongst all the prints. Intriguingly, floral stickers were peppered around your images. Not the childish ones you'd buy for a cheap price, but more refined illustrations. You're not too versed in the language of flowers, but they did look like blue roses and marigolds. If only you could recall what Gepard said about what those flowers meant...

For now, you hazarded an astute guess as to why it was cleaner than the rest, staring unamused at Gerard. He sheepishly smiled, face flushed as he tried not to notice your glare. Gerard seemed proud of his handiwork.

It was nearly cute.

If it weren't for the fact you seriously don't know who he is.

“Gepard—”

“Gerard,” he corrected you in a commanding yet soft tone, ironically similar to your old Captain.

“You don’t have to patch my wounds.”

“Just let me,” he pressed on, wrapping your scrapped arm with gauze. “This was part of my combat lifesaver course.”

You shifted from the bed.

“You’re a soldier?”

…

He didn’t answer.

You tilted your head.

“Are you sure you’re not a Landau–”

“Affirmative.”

He could’ve twisted the gauze tight enough to make you wince in pain, but he delicately wrapped it and added immense pressure not to your wounds, but in his gaze.

“I am not your “Geppie” and I am not your old employer.”

With a voice that commands resolute clarity from you, you doubt he’s telling the truth.

You paused.

“How?”

“How what?” He muttered.

“How did you know that nickname?”

You gulped.

“How much do you know about me?”

You were on high alert the moment he called you by your name when those monsters chased earlier– you have never introduced yourself. Couple that with the fact that he was to accuse you of murder, you didn’t know what he thought of you.

This time, he didn’t smile.

“Enough to know that I love you.”

“You say that like it makes any sense!” You snapped.

“I know everything because you wanted me to love you, and I do love you too. I am not a shield for the people like him. I don't have the burden to protect anyone else, doesn’t that make me a better man for you now? There's no need to make sure the Silvermane Guards are always at the ready. I don't have to worry about pride- about being a Landau.”

He delicately reached out, guiding your hand to rest against his cheek. His softened features conveyed a love for your "warmth", but the pool in your stomach made this experience unbearable.

“My life is reserved for only you. That is my oath.”

You ripped your arm away from him with disgusted eyes.

“Just tell me the truth already!!!”

He looked down, frowning.

“You don’t need the truth...”

Gerard's eyes glistened with a bittersweet melancholy as he watched you, a faint smile tugging his lips. He had a look that says he knew all too well that you are unaware of the depths he was willing to go to protect you. The dirty blonde man reached out, his hand instinctively yearning to rest upon your shoulder, but he withdrew it quickly, his fingers curling inward.

“That’s why you’re here. In this foggy back alley.”

He scooted beside you. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to comfort you enough, you knew he spoke the truth when his voice cracked in a small whisper of: "I’m with you."

Gerard grabbed your hand again and softly kissed your fingertips.

No one could miss his sharp gaze. The man has deluded himself that you were his to protect at all costs. A nature that stemmed from a deep-seated desire to control something that he couldn't acceptably justify. A pure obsession that defied reason at its finest.

You know that look all too well.

But you can’t put a finger as to where you’ve seen it. What a shame.

You looked at your hands.

... Strange.

Since when were you wearing a golden ring?

Your eyes intuitively gazed at Gerard's hands.

All of the sudden, your throat dried.

You're both wearing wedding rings.

“You don’t have to be alone again,” he mumbled. “We can live here. You could plant and look after flowers with me– though I’ve never been good at it. It’d be a quiet life, just as you’ve always wanted.”

“If that’s what you’re offering then you’re no different than Serval,” you laughed to yourself.

His eyes darkened.

Before you could comment on it, he cut you off with another considerate smile.

“You must be hungry. There’s a cafeteria downstairs, I’ll procure some rye bread.”

“(Y/n), babe, where are you?”

You looked up. An alarmed woman’s voice called out.

“... Serval?”

No reply.

The voice seemed to be coming from the door.

“Serval, are you there?”

“(Y/n), i-it’s okay! C-Calm down, calm down,” the voice continued. “Things just happen. I’ll help you okay? Shhh, d-don’t cry, don’t cry, I'm here…”

“What are you talking about?”

“I won’t let it happen. They don’t even have to know you were here. P-Pass the mop now, shhh…”

It made a sound far too damaged to be called a soothing chuckle.

“What are you on about?–”

The broken voice began to sing, sounding as though she had been clinging onto a husk of someone who’s been too far gone.

“C-Calm your nerves, my p-precious friend,

For "tomorrow"'s problems will never end.

In this short song, I s-softly sing,

You're cherished, my dear, in e-everything.”

You reached for the bed railing and supported yourself upright. Prepping your leg for a short walk, you placed your foot down–

THUD.

The door swung open, making you jump slightly.

Gerard came back, his breath nearly stripped away as he sauntered over. His only saving grace was his stamina, but otherwise fear would've dragged him down. There was not a single piece of bread in his hand. I’m glad he came, you would’ve been out of the alley immediately otherwise. And that's not good for us.

The voice was gone.

The sounds from afar now ring more of an animal than a human.

"(Y-Y/n)," he called out. "We need to leave."

You tilted your head, about to question what was wrong but you were cut off by his abrupt scream.

"NOW!!!"

He took you by the waist, carrying you in a way there was regard for your amputation but fast enough to make you feel unease. You gasped as Gerard's hold on you tightened, sprinting out of the "safe location."

"W-What's going on–"

"They're close," he whispered. "They're coming. It knows we’re here."

With one free hand, he pushed down passing cabinets as he bolted. Nothing was on his mind other than to flee with you. You didn't dare look at what was behind. You didn't want to face the truth.

"Gerar–"

Despite your desire not to see these creatures, a lone monster stands at the end of the hall.

It loomed before you, a grotesque fusion of flesh intricately molded together like human flesh sewn tight to a Silvermane Guard uniform, its form twisted and contorted while multiple unnerving eyes peered from its misshapen visage. Although it may have eyes more than you have fingers, you have a sneaking suspicion that they are completely inoperative. Its skin bore an unsettling array of intricate carvings, etched like cryptic scars across its entire body.

Something about its appearance resonated with you.

It slugged closer, staring. As to “where”, you can't tell. Each inch of its body had slits for eyes enough to instill paranoia. At least one pair must've been staring at you. Yet, most of it was on him.

Gerard.

"Tch..." His eyebrows furrowed, troubled.

He ran towards the end of the hall and miraculously swerved to avoid its axe. His pace quickened.

"(Y/n), whatever you do, don't think about why these creatures exist. Even when I'm gone."

“What do you mean?”

“Just don’t. That’s an order.” He said, sounding more of a plea than a warning.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as you struggled to keep up with Gerard's swift pace.

As he ran, questions burned in your mind, desperate for answers. His words echoed in your head, but your curiosity had implicit demand for a shred of understanding. You couldn't help but glance back, catching a glimpse of the creature still in pursuit. It persisted in its relentless pursuit of you, unwavering in its resolve.

"F-Faster!" you gasped between labored breaths. “It’s closing in on us!”

Gerard's expression remained stoic, his eyes focused on the path ahead.

He ran towards a door and pushed it open with a kick. You both stumbled through the threshold, entering what appeared to be the cafeteria, but the sterile scent mingling with the food made that guess somewhat unconvincing.

Gerard quickly assessed the room, searching for any signs of danger. The sound of distant alarms and muffled screams echoed through the corridors.

“Just what the hell is that?!” The words escaped you unintentionally in a mortified whisper.

Gerard cupped your mouth.

You both forgot to close the door.

What a horrible mistake.

The unsettling monster began its search. It emanated shrill sounds that pierced through your ears, making you almost move to cover them. The cries reached a hauntingly high-pitched cry that echoed like metal against metal. The mournful wails never resembled wolfish growls but rather heartbroken cries. Its speech resembles the guttural syllables "I" and "U" in an auditory expression of grief.

It turned around, but it also had eyes on its back.

Cowering in terror, you huddled close to Gerard behind the counter of the desolate cafeteria, seeking refuge from the approaching monster.

As the creature drew nearer, its grotesque eyes fixated on you and Gerard, its elongated limbs reaching out with chilling anticipation. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you heard Gerard’s breath hitch as you both clung to the faint hope of survival.

But to your horror, as the monster approached head-on.

Its rotting flesh bypassed you, swerving past your trembling form, and seized Gerard instead.

“(Y/N)!!! RUN!!”

Gerard pointed at the nearby mop.

He wants you to leave him.

A gasp of terror escaped your lips as you watched in disbelief.

His blue eyes widened, mirroring your panic but worse, as the monster's grasp tightened around him. Gerard yelped, his voice trembling as his fear of death loomed. Its grip was not merciful.

It smacked Gerard against a desk.

Again.

And again.

Blood streamed in his scalp.

The monster took his arm.

And ripped it apart.

And soon.

Nothing.

Thud.

You went as silent as the corpse as you watched it extinguish his life in a quiet finality.

Tears streamed down your face, unable to look away. Maybe it's a trick of the mind, but you were starting to feel a pain from where your leg was removed. Your brain was still convinced that you still had it- and that it is in danger. You feel as if your ankle was angled downwards, hiding from the monster. Such sensations made your skin crawl, especially considering the circumstances. It was not the best time to experience phantom limb pain.

The monster briefly met your gaze as if to mock your survival. It limped away, leaving behind you with nothing but a corpse.

Hours felt like mere minutes before you were snapped out of your prolonged emptiness. Gerard remains on the floor, dead-eyed and bloody. Thankfully, your current PLP was manageable at best but the throbbing sensation distracted you for a while. Your mind was blocking out the blood on his face. It did not process how mutilated it had become, nor did it care to acknowledge his arm that lay on the checkered floor.

His cheeks looked warm, alive.

You fixed his hair.

“Gep– Gerard…”

…

You need to leave.

YOU NEED TO LEAVE.

Since that incident, you've been by yourself in the Back Alley, even though you sense that there may be other lost "people" like you nearby, you chose to act alone despite this.

There's no need for another Gerard.

You followed the walls every time you had the nerve to step outside, cursing Serval occasionally for failing to provide you with a prosthetic running leg. That, and her garbage methods she calls "physical therapy."

You have overstayed your welcome despite not knowing how long you have been in this dense fog. Oddly, you've never experienced hunger in your time here. You are unable to move around freely, and worse, you are unable to scream for help, unless you want the people who are still present in the dense fog to find you.

You don’t have time to grieve for a man you barely knew.

You sighted a police station. Much like every building in this surprisingly large “alley”, it had been abandoned. It looked like the one you worked for, down to the paint job and the door frame. Funnily enough, the door was open, and thus, it was temporarily yours.

What greeted you first upon entering was a creature similar to the monsters you’ve crawled away from– but it did not move.

The still creature lay on the floor, staring at its hand. Its bottom half was similar to a mermaid's. You did not see two legs. When you approached, there was no reaction. You can only presume it was dead. Or that it never had a life to begin with.

You heard radio static as soon as you tried approaching it. But you don't recall ever having a radio in your possession.

“You poor thing…” You found yourself uncharacteristically sympathizing with a monster. The fatigue was eminent in your voice. “What happened?”

You're so stupid. Don't you think that "corpse" looks familiar?

You looked at its other hand and saw it holding an axe.

You took it.

As you brandished the weapon, its Silvermane engravings became more apparent. This was a soldier’s model, one you used back when you were an intelligence officer. Perhaps it will come in handy later.

“I’ve never heard of this station before, then again, I doubt many knew there’s a back alley in the first place,” you scoffed. “But, hmm…”

You turned your head to face the monster once more. You don’t know why you feel oddly calm facing the monster this boldly. With the axe acting as your new makeshift cane, you pushed it down. Nothing happened.

You got back up and took a look around.

For a police station, there were tons of love-related posters hanging around with half of them viciously vandalized. Some of them made you laugh as you read them. The handwriting seemed to belong to someone, but you can't recall whose.

LOVE ISN’T REAL.

I DON’T NEED A MATCH. I JUST WANT ██████.

“Pathetic,” your emotional equivalent of a snort was a slight huff. “And you’re all supposed to be Silvermane Guards? Guess this place was deserted for a reason.”

You hate how you sounded exactly like Mr. Landau just now. Out of all the children in the Landau household, you had it the worst with Md. Landau. Hearing yourself mutter something he would say... you're not sure how you feel about that.

Scoffing, you walked past the corpse and onto the break room.

Missing just a few posters in your way.

IF I CAN’T HAVE ███,

THEN I’LL JUST REMOVE ███ LIMBS.

Hours passed. You haven’t found the exit.

You heard Serval’s voice again. She was apologizing to you. Then, silence.

Nothing happened on what you presumed to be the “next day.” You cried to yourself until you saw the same monster who killed Gerard. It was ready to give chase until suddenly, it stopped when you were incredibly focused on escaping.

You tried thinking about why it did what it did. But it left more questions than answers.

Tore down a couple of posters. They were starting to get to you.

You think there is no exit. You made a quick mention about how Gerard probably knew where it is to yourself, but the same monster must've heard you. You felt eyes watching you and it made it's appearance by narrow alleys. You bolted.

You found another human. But he was long dead. You wondered if he was the same person children loved to talk about. The anxious man who lingered at the gates of the Back Alley. If I remember correctly, Stelle encountered this man before. Wonder what she thought of him at the time.

You heard the radio static again when you approached him. You decided to ignore him for now.

You mopped the man's dried blood. Who knew the mop Gerard pointed at in his last moments had it's use.

He looked stiff as a board. He was reeking, but at least he had a smile on his face.

You obtained a key after cleaning up the puddle.

“Was there ever an exit?”

Nothing happened in this timeframe. But you think you have an idea as to why these creatures exist.

Specifically, why they exist because of you.

How long have you been here? Sorry, I wasn’t keeping track.

You also weren't sure how long you'd been searching the town. Quite frankly, I was getting bored of watching. You tried to play this off like a maze game, constantly following the walls to your right as though it would magically lead you to the exit. Did you know that Lady Luck is not particularly lenient when bestowing favors? Your life here is slowly becoming more stale and your constantly improving ability to strategize your routes to avoid monsters has been making your adventure more of a chore to follow.

It's admirable that you were so tenacious in clinging to life in such a dangerous environment with a single leg, but it was extremely frustrating that you couldn't see this alley for what it was.

As if to cure such boredom, you entered another abandoned building. Turns out, the key you pried off a dead man's corpse fits perfectly. It was a psychiatric clinic owned by one Dr. Kauffman, a licensed therapist who received teachings from Dr. Kang Tu via the Astral Express. I never cared about those people. They're just cashing in on the occult, the easily "hooked", and the disturbed. You harbor at least 2/3 of those qualities. Congrats.

The walls are more notably filled with the same set of posters you've seen scattered around time. This time, you weren't feral enough to tear the posters down. However, you didn't grasp the meaning behind them either. You refused to look deeper, even when you don't recall what would stare back at you.

Mindlessly, you staggered inside a room. There were no professionals inside as far as you could tell without any of the lights on, just a cold sofa. You walked slowly and sat down.

As soon as you comfortably secured a position to take a rest, you realized you weren't alone.

Star-bright eyes followed your movements as soon as you entered the room.

“Gepard?”

You blinked.

“Oh. Gerard, it’s you. I thought you were–” You paused as Gerard shook his head, eyebrows furrowed with a smile that repressed his frustration. “Sorry.”

“Anyway, I’m… confused. How are you alive?” You asked. “Your arm– it’s back. What’s going on?”

Desensitized, you no longer knew what to think.

You're being strangely calm, don't you think?

But one thing was for certain: this “man” is not supposed to be standing.

Gerard pursed his lips.

“Anyway?” He mimicked you bitterly.

“What do you mean “ANYWAY”?!?”

You flinched as he took steps forward.

“You didn’t even care about me, didn’t you?!? It’s Gepard this, Gepard that– Gepard is DEAD!!!”

Gerard screamed at your face, gripping your shoulders tightly.

“Why… Why is it always him first? When I am everything he couldn't be?”

Gerard chuckled lowly.

“I-I was so afraid. I was so afraid that I won’t be able to see you again– that I’d disappoint you– but no, it’s always Gepard first. Why can’t you be obsessed with me in the way you were so– so…”

He cried. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as his shoulders deflated. Gerard cast his gaze to the ground while his hands reached to wipe his sorrows off his face.

“I would die for you. Why can’t you do the same?”

You tilted your head.

“Strange, now that I think about it–” you said nonchalantly.

“Didn’t I watch you die?”

Silence.

You should comfort him.

“Gepard,” you started.

Wrong name.

“No, it’s Gepard.”

Wrong name.

“It’s not the wrong name. I know what I’m saying.”

Wrong name.

I continued to correct you.

“It’s not–” You took a shaky breath. “It’s not the wrong name, you fucking idiot.”

He remains still, quiet.

Almost frozen.

Stiff as a board.

You laughed.

“I get it now. Haha. I get it now.”

You look down, staring at the human corpse. Human corpse? No. That’s not a human. A human cannot die twice.

You get it now.

You’re in the Back Alley.

There are always eyes that watch the Back Alley.

You look above, particularly to no one, but you believed the scriptwriter must be listening.

“He’s listening, isn't He?”

Yes. He is.

It's time for us to talk.

The clock struck 10:10.

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