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atsuwumus · 4 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑.

๋࣭⭑ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : who sees the human face correctly — the photographer, the mirror or the painter? dr ratio had always had an obsession with pretty things. so when you seek his guidance for one of your artistic pieces you find yourself in for more than you bargained for.

๋࣭⭑ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : mature content, minors dni 18+ only. dom! dr ratio x fem! reader, teasing, fingering, objectification if u really squint hard enough. p-paint play??? I wrote this with my coochie okay ʕ•͡-•ʔ

๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : nobody perceive me after writing this (๑﹏๑//) rlly messy one but wanted to get something out tonight on the new bloggie :3

"𝐌𝐘, 𝐌𝐘, 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 aren't you a pretty sight."

His voice is low and as smooth as velvet, vibrating off the walls of the empty display room and shaking you right to your core. His voice shouldn't have such an affect on you, but it creeps into your veins like a slow acting poison, tainting your thoughts from the inside out.

For weeks now you've tried to get his attention, ready to beg on hands and knees for just a slither of recognition. You see, your artwork hasn't always made the biggest impact. Many found it rather mundane and boring.

One failed exhibition after the next had led you to seek out the only person you knew would have the answers you so desperately sought, the only person who would either see your vision through strokes of paint and blurred lines — or who would be able to tell you to give it all up for good.

A shaky breath leaves your chest when the door clicks closed behind him.

Another leaves your lips when the slow and purposeful stride of his feet draw closer.

Rows upon rows of paintings of the finest details line the walls on either side of him but all he seems to be focused on is you.

Delicate strokes of paint stain your skin, spanning from one naked hip to the next. Swirls of green and blue meet in an intricate dance across your nipples and span to intertwine around your neck, a true display of intricacies and colors. You're bare to him, attesting to the advice he had given you with a shrug of his shoulder weeks ago.

"And what is this supposed to be?" he drawls, his voice coming from behind you. It takes every last ounce of your strength to scrape together enough willpower to remain still where you are, plastered on the small pedestal for him to see.

You inhale, exhale. Count to three and back again before you speak.

"You said I needed to be braver with my art," you say yet your voice still shakes. "That I needed to start taking more risks. This is me taking that risk."

An understanding hum vibrates low in his chest, a pleasant sound that eases some of the tension in your shoulders. But the closer he gets, the more he inspects, the hungrier his gaze gets. A calloused fingertip runs from the blade of your shoulder down to your hip. He taps his chin, feigning to be deep in thought.

"Risqué," he murmurs. "But not quite complete. Not to my liking."

Curiosity burns in your gaze as your eyes follow each shift and shrink of his body, watching avidly as he picks up a tube of paint, squeezing some red ink onto his fingertips. There's a half smile tugging at the corner of his lips — one that you aren't sure is entirely there — before he lets his fingers dip against your skin.

You gasp.

The paint is chillier than you expected against your heated skin as he draws long, precise lines along and around your breasts. He takes his time, idly moving his digits back and forth, keeping his gaze trained on the way the red brings your skin to life. A low chuckle follows when he runs his inked fingertips across your pert nipples, ensuring to outline them properly with thick layers of paint. Once satisfied does he pick up a deep mauve, smearing it across your abdomen, sinking lower and lower until you finally let out a whimper.

It's only when he sets the tube of paint down that he says, "Do not for a second think that I don't see you rubbing those thighs of yours together. Did no one ever tell you to not disturb the artwork?"

It should be embarrassing for you — how debauched you look right now, on the brink of being ruined, letting him paint, prod and process whoever he pleased, without any objection. You bite down on your bottom lip, pursing them together when you catch a flicker of his gaze — warm and wanting, like a predator ready to sink its teeth into his prey.

It's a weak protest but you let out a small, "Dr. —"

"Be quiet."

You swallow your words with a thick throat, chest heaving as he steps closer to you, right between your thighs, ever so slowly tilting his chin up to meet your gaze as he cleans his fingers off with a damp cloth.

"I believe I told you to bare a side of yours to me that I haven't seen before in your art," he drags out, letting his fingers smooth over your hips and thighs, admiring his work like a proud master. "But I never expected this from you. Tell me, have you put on a show like this for anyone else before?"

"N-No." You shudder with a shake of your head.

His lips curl into what you could only presume to be a satisfied smirk. "Good. It would be such a shame if I had to share something from my private gallery from the rest of the world."

His hands are definitive in the way he touches you, without hesitation or uncertainty, but with the elegance of a painter, parting your thighs with ease and running two fingers between your puffy lips, smirking when he realizes how wet you truly are.

"This is almost pathetic," he muses, continue to collect your wetness in between his fingers and using it to circle your clit a few times, always coming close enough to give you a taste of what you craved, but never indulging you. "How desperate you are for some attention. I almost pity you."

He gives your clit a smack with the palm of his hand, a deep chuckle bubbling in his throat when you yelp.

"Almost."

"P-Please." You almost don't recognize your own voice, how each syllable is painted with desperation. How your thighs shake with anticipation and you continuously clench around nothing each time he circles your entrance.

"Shhh," he chides, his voice sweet like honey but his eyes told you a different story. "I'm determined to enjoy the entire gallery. And I don't like being disturbed or disrupted. It takes away my focus."

He tilts his head up to look at you. "Do you understand?"

Your bottom lip wobbles a little when he slides two slender digits between your folds, curling them with ease and stroking along your soft walls until he heard you whine. "I do, I do!" you nod along feverishly, ready to beg and plead at this point — anything just for him to give you what you want.

"Good... Something tells me I'm going to be enjoying this spectacle tonight."

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fic #honkai star rail smut #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio smut #dr ratio drabbles #dr ratio fic #hsr x reader #hsr smut #hsr scenarios #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr drabbles #hsr fic #veritas ratio #veritas ratio smut #veritas ratio x reader

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nomazee · 1 month

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close to your heart and that bed of yours too

you've been having the same weird dream about dan heng, over and over, and it just so happens that he's had the same dream, too.

dan heng x gn reader — 2.4k — super suggestive content but definitely nothing serious or graphic, some guilt abt attraction, dreams, romantic fantasies but not weird ones, kissing and closeness and physical touch, literal sleeping together

notes: forgive me and my debaucherous writing... this is nowhere near smut but it's definitely suggestive they get touchy and feely but it's very emotions-focused...oh my god what did i write this is so

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

It’s probably not possible to get cabin fever on a constantly-running space train, but that’s the only reasonable explanation for the weird, weird recurring dream you’ve been having about Dan Heng. It’s not— not that weird, not weird enough that you feel like a complete deviant, but enough for you to realize that it’s a complete reflection of your innermost thoughts and desires, and that scares you more than anything.

The dream— it goes like this:

You wake up—not in real life, but in the dream world, which freaked you out the first time because you didn't realize you were dreaming at all so you thought everything was entirely real—and it’s usually because of the noise of your door sliding open. The instinct to look and see who it is doesn’t hit you. You lay there, gaze fixed distantly on the steel surface of your ceiling until the feeling of your bedsheets moving next to you pushes you to full awareness.

You still don’t move your gaze until you feel a body—warm, breathing, real real real?—lift up your blankets and slide underneath them, pressing next to you, curling into your side as if seeking out your life source. Your breath catches in your throat every single time as you turn to see that it’s Dan Heng, still dressed in his work clothes because he doesn’t understand the concept of pajamas, and his arm reaches around you and curls around your shoulder and he rests his head on your collarbone, gently, and you can feel his breath fan against the fabric of your shirt and your skin.

Dan Heng says your name with reverence, with something like desire, and it makes your stomach clench and he turns his body into you more. He tucks his leg between yours—not moving, just sitting there, a reminder of him, his warmth—and he’s so, so warm, it amazes you that he’s like a furnace, and that he’s so unbothered by laying so close to you under all of your blankets.

And he says your name again, each and every time, and it spurs something in you and you bring your arms around him each and every time, and pull him close, and feel the way he shudders, like a cold breeze wracking his body, like he’s never been this close to anyone before, and it dawns on you that he probably hasn’t—and that thought alone spirals into the realization that Dan Heng would never do this—

And then you wake up. Each time.

The first time it happened, you didn't realize it was a dream, and you were so overwhelmed with thought after thought and feeling after feeling and sensation after sensation. When you finally woke up, it felt like you were grieving a loss. You felt too cold, and too empty, and curled into yourself and laid in your bed for an hour taking in shaky breaths until you finally got over yourself.

You couldn't face Dan Heng for that entire day. Which was fine, because he spent his whole day in his room shuffling through the archives, so he was easy to dodge. But then you dreamt of him again. And again, and again, and then it just became a part of your nighttime routine to dream of your own friend so intimately and then wake up and pretend like nothing matters and nothing changed. Pretend like you didn't feel anything, and pretend like these dreams didn't flood you with guilt about your sick sick feelings and your sick sick fantasies.

You tried to rationalize it, make yourself feel less awful. The dreams never went past him laying beside you, for the most part, and you preferred it that way. If they got any more intimate than they already were, you would’ve thrown yourself off the Express the next morning.

Regardless, the Dan Heng in your dream and the Dan Heng that you saw every morning were different people, because the Dan Heng you saw every morning would never get so close to you. Would never lay in your bed and breathe on your neck like that.

Never. That distinction is the only thing that convinces you to let yourself dream. You indulge, and it’s sickening, but you let your dreams happen over and over, and each time you hold Dan Heng tighter and tighter and tighter, and let him breathe against your neck, and feel the rush of his blood circulating through his body.

One night, in one iteration of this dream, Dan Heng kisses you. It feels so real that it makes you nauseous. His lips were warm and damp and clumsy against the corner of your mouth, and he let out anxious breaths until you tangled your hands in his hair and tugged him closer and kissed him back.

You woke up sick, running to your bathroom to puke in the sink as your hands shook in guilt. Somehow, you could still talk to Dan Heng normally that day, stomach twisting only the slightest bit whenever your gaze lingered on him for too long.

Welt might have noticed how weird you were acting. There was a nagging furrow in his brow and he caught your gaze more than once and each time, you felt waves of humiliation crash into you, flooding you in heat and guilt and vertigo. He looked like he wanted to pry in that odd, awkward, old-man-paternal way of his, but you just shook your head and looked away and begged, hoped, wished upon a star that you would have a normal dream tonight.

The night— it goes like this:

You lay in your bed, staring at your ceiling, leftover remnants of guilt swimming in your lungs and nightly congestion forcing you to take shallow breaths through your mouth. Thoughts run through your mind and slam into your skull at rapid speed. Has Dan Heng noticed how weird you’ve been acting? He hasn’t treated you any differently, but maybe it’s out of pity. Maybe you haven’t been paying enough attention, because you’re so busy replaying that dream over and over and over, obsessive, wondering if you should just let go of the rope you’re suspended on and slam into the water and drown in your wants and your needs.

So you close your eyes, and you let yourself drift off and wake back up in your dream. You’re on your side now, instead of on your back, and the door is on the far wall behind you. You still hear it slide open, as it always does in this dream, and the footsteps get closer until you hear the shuffling of someone kneeling behind you. And then there’s nothing.

Your blankets don’t get lifted up. There’s no warm body tucking itself next to you. But there’s— a voice, Dan Heng’s voice, and your heart sinks into your stomach as you hear the pitch of his voice, the vibrations of sound.

“Are you awake?”

Your brow furrows, and you clench and unclench your fists twice before parting your dry, trembling lips. He’s never spoken in a dream before, not like this. He’s only ever said your name. Your fingers twitch with the instinct to pinch yourself.

“Yes,” you respond, hoping that the confusion isn’t clear in the timbre of your voice. “What’s— is something wrong?”

“No,” he says immediately. Clothes rustle as he adjusts himself. You’re scared to turn around and face him. You don’t know what you’d see. “You…” and he pauses, thinking of his words. Dan Heng would rather take a full minute to think about what to say, what words to pick, instead of stumbling over syllables, and it’s so unlike your own habits and as you think of this, your fingers twitch again. This time with the desire to hold his hand, because that’s what you’re supposed to do in this dream, but everything feels too real now and you don’t know where you are.

Finally, he finds his words. You’re patient with him. “I can’t sleep alone,” he whispers, as if embarrassed to admit it, “not tonight. I trust you.”

God. He can’t say that. He shouldn’t say that, because your head is spinning and you’re going to throw up. Your hand finds the strength to pick itself up and pinch the skin of your forearm. You’re not dreaming.

“Yeah,” you cough out, sniffling afterwards to cover up your budding anxiety as you finally sit up and turn to face him. “Yeah, you can, um. Sleep here.”

When he finally enters your field of vision, he looks the same as he always does—both in your dreams and in real life. It makes you sick. The guilt that you feel now comes more from the fact that he’s still in his typical outfit instead of pajamas.

“Dan Heng,” you start as you shuffle back on your bed to make space for him. He follows your motion, kneeling on the edge of your mattress before adjusting the sheets around you to tuck himself underneath and lay down. “We need to get you pajamas. I don’t know how you sleep like that.”

“I don’t sleep,” he admits, “not usually. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

“You do. You might not think so, but you probably do. I wish I had a spare set of pajamas, but— they’re all, um, in the wash right now.”

“It’s okay. Your blankets are nice.”

Words tingle against your gums, syllables of confessions lighting up in your mouth. You want to tell him that a dream-version of him has slept under a copy of these blankets multiple times before, that you’ve dreamed for weeks about him curled into you and sleeping, and saying your name, and kissing the corner of your mouth. Right now, you’re just laid side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder, but you can feel how warm he is and his hand is so close to yours and you just want to hold it. You want him to say your name and look at you and hold your hand.

“Good,” you say instead of everything else that you could say, because you have a sense of self control at times.

Then Dan Heng says your name, rolling onto his side to face you, hands tucked underneath the side of his face in a stupidly endearing sleeping position. You follow suit, because your self control isn’t that strong. He doesn’t say anything else. Just your name, once. With reverence and desire. Maybe you’re dreaming it, but you pinch your knuckles again and yet you’re still in the same room with the same man in front of you.

One of your arms is bent between you two, hand resting on the pillow that separates you two. Dan Heng’s own hand—warm, and breathing, and real— comes up to rest on top of yours, and you cannot believe any of this is happening. You want to pinch yourself again but his hand is curling around yours and he’s inching forward and you hope that your deer-in-headlights expression doesn’t scare him off.

“Dan Heng,” you whisper, voice cracking with an embarrassing desperation. It’s a warning for him, before he does whatever he’s about to do. But he says your name, again, and his face is so close to yours that you can feel every breath fan against your face, and your entire body is warmed and your hand flips over to hold his, fingers slipping between his and tightening around it.

“Have you had these odd dreams these last few nights,” he asks, a leading tone in his voice, “because I have. About you,” and he’s too honest, and you have to swallow your saliva before it turns into sweat and blood, and you feel his hand squeeze back around yours. His is shaking, and you find some kind of comfort in knowing that you’re not the only one.

“Yeah,” you answer, because you can’t get more than one syllable out at a time tonight. Could anyone blame you? Would Dan Heng blame you for that, afterwards, even though his face is so close and his hand is so warm and it’s tight around you, and he’s shuffling around again, constantly fidgeting, and he takes his other arm and slides it around you, hand between your shoulder blades. He hooks a leg between yours, tugging you closer and closer and closer. You’re blinking at him, heart caught in your throat and eyes landing on his lips so that maybe he’ll finally take the hint.

He does. He does, and as cliche as it is, it’s better than your dream. He kisses you, desperate, and right before your eyes flutter shut you catch the contemplative furrow in his brow. His mouth is—warm, damp, but you feel the crack in the skin in the center of his bottom lip. It scrapes against you and you can’t help the shaky sigh you release at the feeling, and the hand on your back curls into the fabric of your sleep shirt.

Your eyes are closed, tight, scared that if you open them, you’ll just wake up back in your room, alone and cold again with your empty steel ceiling. Dan Heng’s mouth is moving against yours with a practiced proficiency that you’re almost jealous of. You let your tongue trace the edges of his teeth, carnal in your desires, before you bite down on his lip hard enough to leave a temporary dent. He shudders, hand trembling against yours and lips pulling back from yours as he tucks his head into your neck and lets out shaky breaths lines with addictive sounds. You’re going crazy. He’s driving you crazy.

The hard, carved metal parts of his clothes dig into you. Your hand goes around him to rest on the back of his head, threading through his hair as his breathing slows against you. “We can go shopping somewhere tomorrow,” you tell him, already thinking of how you’d convince Pom-Pom to land at some shopping district of some planet. “You need pajamas.”

“There’s no need for me to have that,” he says, stubborn and set in his ways, even with something as mundane as sleep clothes. “My normal clothes are fine.”

“Not if you’ll be sleeping in my bed.”

And that makes him succumb to your whims, much too easy for your own good, and you laugh when he lets out a weary sigh at your reciprocal stubbornness. Your fingers keep combing through his hair, soft and meaningful, until he falls asleep. You think you'll get him a blue plaid pajama set. He'd look nice in it.

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mini-ism · 11 days

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#— DADDY DEAREST. ♡︎

pairings: gallagher x gn!afab!reader x welt yang

words: about 1.1k

synopsis: mr. yang and gallagher decide to team up.

warnings: MDNI!!! afab (gender neutral) reader, light choking, daddyfication/daddy kink (gallagher), sirification/sir kink (welt yang), double penetration, biting, hair pulling, praise, not proofread lolol, p in v.

notes: i wrote this because welt decided to come home real early tee hee. and also because i ♡︎ gallagher :3

♡︎ imagine being passed back n forth by welt and gallagher…

gallagher is absolutely brutalizing you, slamming your hips up and down on his own hips as welt watches with a slightly less stoic face than usual, perhaps a bit more of a smile.

welt watches with interest, palming the erection in his pants quietly as gallagher continues slam-fucking into you.

you whine and cry out for “daddy,” and gallagher only encourages it. he coos, telling you “daddy’ll take care of ya,” and, “nobody fucks you like daddy does.”

gallagher continues to bully into your cunt, spilling his seed inside you carelessly, watching you writhe and whimper under his calloused grip. at this point, welt had already started to stroke himself, dutifully noting what makes you scream and what you dont feel quite as much.

welt joined you after gallagher pulled out, the two began to work in sync. gallagher accompanied your side, massaging your body and kissing your neck sloppily, leaving bite marks on your flesh. welt, however, positioned you onto your back, watching the cum spill out of your swollen pussy. his lips curled just a bit more.

welt slipped in with relative ease, especially for his size, letting out a low, gravelly moan. it rumbled in his throat, his eyes fixed onto your face, which would scrunch up and loosen with every movement in and out of you.

he was gentle and slow, but deceptive. with every experienced thrust, it only became harder. he continued to move at the same agonizing pace. gallagher played with your nipples, nearly shoving his tongue down your throat. you could taste candy on his lips and tongue.

before you knew it, you were whimpering and squirming again. gallagher’s hands were grasping your throat, depriving you of air, as welt made you cum, watching you ride the mellow wave of the orgasm.

welt was a man of few words until prompted, choosing to remain awfully silent at times, “it’ll feel much better soon,” he promised.

welt’s hands moved to your thighs, gripping the underside as he bent your knees to your chest, folding you like a lawn-chair. gallagher kept your legs tucked with one thick arm as welt picked up the pace dramatically.

“fuck— fuck, yes, sir!” welt chuckled lightly at his new name.

“that feels nice?” he rasped, his yellow eyes gleaming with desire.

“yes, sir!” you gripped at gallagher’s arm, his messy brown hair clinging to his face as he grumbled against your skin, lazily pumping his shaft to the sound of your mewls.

you started to pant as you felt another intense orgasm building within you. the sensation of gallagher’s breath and his bulky arm holding you down with force, as well as welt’s hands on your body, and his thick cock fucking into you like a toy sent you over the edge.

you heaved into gallagher’s body, “sir” being the only thing that your mind could strum your vocal cords with. you reached out for welt, your hand delicately rubbing against his abdomen. welt had increased the amount of brute force he used to fuck you, chasing his own high.

“you know, i’d like to come too,” he remarked, “you can’t always be so selfish.”

you whined in response, grabbing gallagher’s hair and holding onto it harshly, “gonna make me cum again if you keep doin’ that…”

you kneaded and wove your fingers into his hair, tangling your hands through the thick mess. you could feel him nipping at your neck and pumping his shaft quickly, attempting to keep himself from going over the edge.

welt approached his own orgasm quickly, watching your eyes screw shut with every deep movement of his hips, “i feel really good too.”

welt’s hips seemed to control his mind, reason hanging on by a mere thread. he could feel the coil in his stomach tighten before it eventually loosened. he let out a loud, guttural groan as his cum shot into you, your sensitive body shaking with every breath you took.

“you think i can fit in there too, mr. yang?” gallagher chuckled, mischief sparkling as he turned his gaze to look welt in the eyes.

“maybe, we could see.” he retorted back, with just as much humor.

welt gently maneuvered you to allow gallagher to support you, laying under you. gallagher positioned himself to your other hole, poking the entrance with his tip.

“waitwaitwai—” they did not wait.

gallagher pushed deep inside you, feeling your walls tighten around him, causing him to groan in pleasure. both men started to move inside you in unison, the pleasure immensely doubled. you could feel that you were wetter with both of them fucking you at the same time, making your pussy leak a mixture of both of their seed and your own slick.

welt’s hands moved back to your thighs, grabbing them gently as he maneuvered himself into your pussy, cockhead rubbing against your g-spot as gallagher shoved his fingers into your mouth.

gallagher made you suck on his fingers, the other arm snaking back to where he clamped you down by the waist. his fingers left your mouth as soon as he deemed adequate, rubbing slow circles on your clit as both “sir” and “daddy” began to fuck into you faster.

“fuck, fuck— hhhnnn…” you pawed at welt’s torso again, as gallagher’s fingers began tracing your clit faster, his two digits rough and big enough to cover your entire bundle of nerves.

“you’re so good for us, babydoll,” he purred, welt smiling down at you in agreement.

welt followed up with gallagher’s praises, “that’s right.”

you could hear both men huffing in your ears, their thrusts becoming harsh and mean again. you could hear the slapping of skin against skin, at least when you weren’t screaming out “daddy!” or “sir!”

“you feel so fuckin’ good,” gallagher hissed, his arm tightening its grip around you, further dizzying you. with each bit of force gallagher used, you could feel welt so much more inside you. it was damn near intoxicating.

without warning, gallagher squeezed you tight, pressing you to his body as he came in your ass, your walls tightening like a vice. this made welt cum before he thought he would, his face tightening and flushing. he moaned slightly as he pulled out of you, gallagher following close behind.

“i wanna see this,” he crawled over to welt, who was admiring their teamwork.

you laid there, mind fucked out, body shivering, and cum seeping from your holes.

nothing was quite as satisfying as this.

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 6 months

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the general of the luofu has a habit you've picked up on. a habit in which when he finds himself in a place of predicament, he will gracefully place his hands atop each other at the small of his back. that is why you also decided to develop a similar habit of standing just slightly behind him.

never when you had first relocated from a separate xianzhou alliance ship to the luofu's exalting sanctum did you imagine you'd be standing within the seat of divine foresight on a near regular basis. of course, the notion was not unheard of since it is the office of general jing yuan, but then again you hadn't expected yourself to eventually be working so close to him either.

working nearly in step with jing yuan was not in your relocation papers. when you first arrived and he was always on your heels, it nearly made you lose your cool more than you'd care to admit. the way he would just smile your lack of alone time off irked you further. you figured he was just doing it because he could, because no one would demand the general to knock it off aside from the master diviner and- more often than not- her nags were brushed aside unless absolutely dire.

but with that same, insufferable smile and persistence of his, jing yuan did what he did best and used it to his advantage until you were absolutely smitten with him, and he knew it.

you had attempted moving your work to central starskiff haven where all the hustle and bustle of the main hub for all things imaginable could take your mind off the dozing general, but it was a useless feat.

the bond between general jing yuan and yourself was something precious yet unnamed. it was seen and noticed, but you both refused to adapt to the way of labels- another thing jing yuan had a habit of. superstition about labels and them ruining everything he holds dear to him was a belief he had yet to be proven wrong.

the labeling and eventual tragic fall out of the high cloud quintet was more than enough proof for him. he would not risk you slipping away from him if he were to try and repeat the mistake. jing yuan was more thankful than you could ever imagine when you told him you understood.

"labeling a relationship with you, general, would surely bring unwanted gossip."

a rather poor excuse to try and ease his mind, since you both would float around each other's orbit, but it still worked nonetheless. thus, the nameless, labelless, and unspoken relationship that everyone aboard the Luofu knew about grew.

"he's like a weed," you had told fu xuan when she was once again pleading with you to try and convince him to do his job behind his desk and not run around avoiding it. once successfully coerced, fu xuan admitted she had no idea how you could withstand his stubbornness. "he's persistent and tough to get rid of. i just kind of let him be after getting too tired of trying to fix my garden."

jing yuan was easily within earshot of the jab, whether you meant to hurt his ego or not, you did bruise it. how could you not when you were calling him a weed just 20 feet away from the very desk he was confined to?

time can be both noticed and unnoticed by long-life species. on one hand, the passing of time seems so endless it just flits by seamlessly. 100, 200 years are nothing short of youth to them. until you reach the gate of older age where you then worry about when the mara will eventually strike.

jing yuan did not speak much of his past to you, and you never found a reason to harp and pry on it. you knew more than enough from texts and scrolls recorded in the halls you were fortunate enough to work in; no need to reopen old wounds he is too stubborn to admit still bleed.

the general who cares for the luofu cannot decide if he fears being stricken with mara himself and slowly losing his sense of identity to the point he cannot recognize you, or you being marked as an enemy for him to strike down because the mara struck you first more. should the former ever come to pass, he has faith that what needs to be done will be and you will stay safe with yanqing.

now, as you stand in the seat of divine foresight with the newly arrived trailblazers from the express also occupying the office with jing yuan, you notice his hands neatly folded behind him.

a slight advantage to the many layers of clothes he puts himself through dressing every day is that his two-tailed half-cape that rested on his shoulders and flowed down to his hips can offer some peripheral coverage.

like clockwork, when you noticed his hands placed in the small of his back, you took half a step closer to his diagonal and placed the pads of your fingers in the middle of his open palm. his fists would never fully curl behind his back, left open and lazily sitting on top of each other.

jing yuan's shoulders would drop just a fraction- hardly noticeable to anyone even if they were looking directly at him- every time you did so. the tips of your fingers were warm, a reminder of the present and also a teether to not let his mind wander too far.

he could feel the callouses on them, the rough skin so accustomed to battle ingrained into the skin of your hands and it brought him such comfort. his eyes gently shut and a smile lifts his lips, not one to mask behind, but one brought about naturally.

and just like always, when he felt your fingertips push lightly into his palm, his hand opened further, fingers pulling apart before he was curling them into yours.

yes, the general of the luofu has a habit you've picked up on. but he has also picked up a new habit of waiting for you to hold his hand when they're behind his back.

#jing yuan #jing yuan fluff #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail jing yuan #jing yuan x y/n #honkai star rail #jing yuan blurb #jing yuan fic #hsr jing yuan #hsr #hsr fic #honkai star rail fic #honkai star rail fluff #jing yuan angst #jing yuan comfort #jing yuan hurt/comfort

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cloudlunae · 6 months

Text

watch those hands

✮⋆˙ prompt hsr characters and their hand placement

✮⋆˙ characters blade, dan heng, welt

✮⋆˙ a/n i had to take like fifteen breaks during this because i kept kicking and screaming (well except welt's, his just made me sad LMAO)

blade - rubbing his thumbs over your waist

after an exhausting battle with some cloud knight soldiers, you and the rest of the stellaron hunters slip into a nearby alley to catch your breath

you in particular experienced the brunt of the fight, so it took you a bit longer to recover compared to your companions

as you struggled to get your breathing under control, hands resting on your knees, you sensed an intimidating yet comforting presence come up behind you

warm hands snake their way up your hips, stopping right at your waistline where a sliver of skin appears

you stood up in surprise, not expecting the sudden warmth, but the person behind you gently began to rub their thumb over the exposed skin

"take your time," blade mumbles. "we're in no rush."

out of the corner of your eye, you spot kafka staring at the two of you, the corner of her lips turned up into a half smile half smirk

immediately you felt the heat bombard your cheeks and instinctively try to pull yourself out of blade's hold

only for your attempt to be rendered futile as his hold tightens on your waist, practically gluing you to the spot

blade steps even closer so that there was no space in between the two of you, and you could feel his chest meet your back

"what's wrong?" he whispers gruffly. his breath fans over the back of your neck and you shiver unconsciously, failing to catch the slight twitch of blade's lips

"kafka's watching," you say. "are you sure this is the right time to—"

"the more you worry about kafka, the less time you have to recover. quit focusing on what's not important and focus on yourself," blade interrupts sharply, the tone of his words heavily contrasting to his tender actions

blade was never usually this affectionate in public, especially not around kafka or silver wolf, so you relented and decided to relish in this rare opportunity, knowing that it won't present itself again for a while

so with a sigh, you allow your body to relax and practically melt into his

blade hums approvingly and his arms snake even tighter around your waist, stopping right above your belly button

dan heng - cupping your cheeks with his hands

you and the others from the astral express decided to visit belobog after receiving an invitation from bronya to attend the solwarm festival

once you arrived at the administrative district, you immediately split into groups with welt and himeko heading for the museum first and march dragging the trailblazer to listen to serval's performance, leaving you and dan heng alone together

smiling brightly, you grab his wrist and lead him towards one of the food stands, ignoring the quiet snort leaving his lips

the vendor is selling a popular belobog dessert and of course you couldn't pass up the opportunity to purchase one for yourself

dan heng finds a table nearby where the two of you sit and enjoy your sweet treats, all whilst watching the festival take place around you

however you were too focused on everything else but yourself that you failed to notice the dollop of frosting on the corner of your lip

that is until dan heng comes into view, his face shockingly close to yours—so close you could see the details of his eyes, nose, and lips

"dan heng what are you—" your voice trails off when both of his hands come up to cup

"hang on, there's something on your face," he mumbles, his thumb wiping away the frosting

you gulp, eyes darting anywhere else but at the man in front of you

moments pass and dan heng's hands are still on your face

you clear your throat. "uh, you can let go now dan heng."

his eyes flicker and you could've sworn you saw a flash of mischief before he brings his face even closer

your breath gets caught in your throat and the heat you felt on your face begins to spread all over your body

dan heng sends you a gentle smile before he pulls away and goes back to eating his dessert, blissfully unaware of the impact he just had on you

you sit there shell-shocked, hands trembling as you set your plate down and attempt to compose yourself

welt - holding your head against his neck

he's always been a pillar of support, especially for those on the astral express

everyone sort of relies on him due to his experience and wisdom, as well as his comforting nature so if someone is ever in need of support, they go to welt first—and you weren't an exception

just moments ago, you arrived back at the express along with dan heng and march, the former immediately hiding himself away in his room and the former running off to look for himeko

leaving you standing all on your own in the parlor car

you make your way over to one of the seats and sit yourself down, trying your hardest not to break down

this mission was a difficult one for you, both physically and emotionally

wordlessly, you take out your phone, sending a quick message to the person you needed the most in that moment and waited patiently

not even two seconds later, welt appears and kneels in front of you, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he bows his head to look at your face

you bring your gaze up to his and the moment your eyes meet, the dam breaks and you can't stop the sob from escaping your lips as your body falls forward into welt's awaiting arms

he falls back onto his bottom, encasing you in his hold as your body shakes

his hand comes up to the back of your head, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as his other hand wraps around your lower back

you can feel his fingers softly massaging your neck and you burrow even deeper into his shoulder

he doesn't ask what happened, not yet, and allows you to pour out your emotions, ignoring the warm tears dripping down his collarbone and seeping into his shirt

he refuses to loosen his hold for even a moment, worried that you would fall apart if he did

so he remains there on the floor of the parlor car, content with staying there as long as you wanted, even if it meant hours

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #blade #blade x reader #welt #welt x reader #honkai star rail fic

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particular-one · 9 months

Text

oh, i was raised on little light.

synopsis. 5 times that blade listed every reason why he can never be with someone like you, and the 1 time you proved him wrong. pairing. blade x gn! reader cw. hurt/comfort, a lil angsty on blade's part with brief mentions of blade's insistence on dying, implicit spoilers about blade's lore in general author's note. i have been itching to write a 5+1 fic for the longest time now....i was listening to northern attitude and it reminded me of blade so bad. hello blade nation i know i understand why he’s so angst-ridden appealing to write for 🙁

when blade met you for the first time, everything in him knew you would be different from the rest of the group. you were the newest addition to the stellaron hunters, whom elio took a great fascination towards — why so, he never figured out, but this landed you in the same ranks as him, kafka and silverwolf.

you easily found a friend in both kafka and silverwolf; blade knew that much because he had watched as you indulged in kafka's innate interest in beauty despite the clear confusion in your eyes. he had seen how you would chat with silverwolf about the latest games that she's invested most of her time into.

but he would merely observe you; if, in any way, you had tried to interact with him, he would brush you off with a cold shoulder, never responding to your rather inquisitive words about him.

he didn't understand why you wanted to know so much about him, nor did he expect to be greeted with the same smile and greeting despite constantly keeping you at arm's length.

that was when he knew that you were too nice for your own good, but most of all, you were too nice to someone like him, who'd push you away even when every inch of his soul did not want to.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

the second time was when you had accidentally found out about his despondency with immortality's curse and in turn, everything that blade had wanted to hide from you.

when you had approached him about it, blade immediately went on the defensive and angrily asked you to stay away from him. he didn't — couldn't bear to see the hurt in your eyes when he snapped at you, thus, the stellaron hunter turned his back on you and fled. which had exactly been the source of the never ending spiral of thoughts that was slowly consuming every fibre of his being.

he's done it now. he's blown any chance that he could form anything meaningful in this ruined life of his.

he had not noticed your presence in the common room, until you made a clanging noise that was the result of two porcelain cups making contact. blade was startled to see you here, especially when he had just uttered those spiteful words to you. he stood up to take his leave, when you called his name.

even the way you said his name had a gentle tenderness to it; he hated how melodious your voice had sounded, hated how he watched as you gingerly set down two porcelain tea cups filled with jasmine tea, one quite noticeably for him, hated how you took the seat in front of him and told him that you were sorry, and that if he ever needed someone to talk to, that you would always be there for him.

but most of all, he hated how his heart rose at your promise, and how much he clung to your words since that night. all the while fully knowing that he could never subject you to being intertwined with the likes of him.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

the third time was much more of a painful wakeup call — quite literally. blade had always prided himself in diving straight first into battle without a single thought, desperate to die and get on with it. this mission was no different, but now you had been watching over him and ready to provide support if needed.

today's battle was much more vicious than his usual ones, but blade had always enjoyed the thrill of fighting. it had been the uncertainty of whether it would finally be his time that allured the stellaron hunter.

but… things had gone quite differently today. for the first time, blade was not seething in his obsession to die when he had seen you valiantly fight off the enemies that had threatened to overwhelm him. ha, as if they could.

he had not noticed that one was charging straight at him with his spear raised, and for a split second could quite literally see his long life flash before his eyes just as he narrowly avoided a fatal injury if it weren’t for the fact that you shouted for his name.

"stay still. i still need to bandage your side." your voice had inevitably brought him back to reality, just as you wiped off the last of his injuries with a warm towel. you had insisted on patching up his wounds yourself, and even when blade had told you that it would just magically heal by himself, he learned that day that it was rather hard to say no to you when you pleaded.

also, he could barely say no when he saw how you were radiating in concern and worry for him. not to mention how your eyes had gleamed like stars in the sky, but that was besides the point.

at the touch of your hand, blade suddenly winced at the contact. you immediately retracted your hand and mumbled an apology, but blade could see that your eyes was moving towards where he covered up the scars he's accumulated for fighting for over a century.

"are you wondering about my scars?" you seemed rather surprised at his question, but most likely due to the sudden indulgence to what you had been obviously looking at.

you slowly nodded. "do they still hurt?"

"not anymore." not any more than his painstaking wish to be free from the shackles of immortality.

you had started to set down the alcohol and bandages on the floor just as blade averted his gaze from you. the silence that proceeded was rather deafening, even for someone like blade who would rather sit in uncomfortable silence than deal with something intimate.

which was ... quite the contradiction to what he had previously allowed you to do, but you had slowly become the exception to many things in his life.

"there, all done. don't be too reckless next time, okay?" you smiled at your handiwork, and even if blade couldn't exactly benefit from whatever you had just done, he somehow felt a thousand times better than he's ever felt in a century. a flicker of a smile could unmistakably be seen in his features, and whether you had caught that or not, he saw you grinning all the same.

on a normal day, blade would have found himself grumbling about losing yet another chance at death, but instead, here he was, smiling at you.

the thought of dying at last had evidently crossed his mind more than once, but never did the thought of dying for someone else. blade very well knew that he could never be that selfless; maybe he had been once upon a time, but that had only costed him the sweet liberation of death.

and yet, the fact that he feels that greatly for you was enough to keep him up the rest of the night, the image of your blinding smile forever seared in his mind.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

the fourth time these thoughts had started to creep up to him again was when the both of you coincidentally crossed paths at an ungodly hour, that you had the bright idea to go gaze at the stars together.

the thought of doing something together made his heart clench, but blade, against his better judgement, allowed you to take his hand in yours as you searched for the perfect spot to watch the stars from from their location.

the skies were clear that night, as if the universe had anticipated that two sleepless beings would be standing at the dock and watch the stars align before their very eyes. with a watchful eye, he stared as you could hardly contain your own excitement. "look, look! there's the brightest star — oh, i never thought we could get such a proximate view from here!" you kept flailing your hand everywhere and he wondered where exactly you had found that energy.

that was when he realized you had never let go of his hand, and instinctively, blade found himself clenching your hand in an attempt to let go. noticeably, your gaze flicked towards him, a momentary glance but the emotion it held in it was enough to send a chill down his spine. he could feel your grip on his hand loosen slightly, but blade didn't want to be a fool any longer.

something in him told him to keep holding onto you, as his fingers interlocked with your hand and held it firmly. blade could hear your breath hitch at his sudden gesture, but naturally, you just smiled and squeezed his hand back.

oh, how your smile had always made his heart ache.

"beautiful, isn't it?" you whispered under your breath, as your eyes were now fixed on the sky above the both of you. the world felt dangerously quiet, but he did not mind the fleeting peace it gave him. blade simply hummed in approval, his mind lost in the moment but he never found the urge to peel his eyes away from you.

to him, you were the brightest star that night and how he foolishly hoped that you’d never get tired of shining your light on him.

“yes, it is.” but foolish dreamers could never get what they want.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

the fifth time was the last time, the time where blade had fully convinced himself that he could not possibly get involved with someone as great as you.

you were sitting across from him as you shared another cup of tea with him. blade could vividly remember the first time he had done this with you like it had only happened yesterday. still, it had been months since then — but you still haven't changed at all.

"is there something in your cup?" blade hadn't realized that his gaze became fixed on the porcelain cup that you handed to him minutes ago, that he barely even touched it. "no. it’s nothing.”

whether you had sensed his avoidance or not, you didn’t comment on it further. blade ended up taking a sip of his tea just as you were fiddling with the detailed carvings on your cup. now, it was probably his turn to sense that you had been avoiding something. “is there something on your mind?”

you looked up at him suddenly, no doubt wondering if blade had just said what he said — not that blade was particularly good at providing a form of care like you did, but his silence had always made him a good listener.

“you know, i really appreciate that you’re spending time with me.” you started, as blade watched your fingers graze over your cup for the millionth time, a habit that you had often done when you were nervous. how he knew that was something he’ll take to the grave.

blade didn’t say a word, only resorting to taking another sip from his tea. what was there to say? that he felt the same but a million times more in magnitude? it would be uncharacteristic of him to admit something that embarrassing. maybe, it had been his lack of response, that you continued to talk.

“sorry, i know you would prefer much quieter companions,” you spoke with a suppressed laugh, the same distinct chuckle that blade could recognise even from a mile away. “truthfully, i thought you even disliked me.”

it was his turn to be perplexed, as blade looked up to meet your gaze that was … on him. you sheepishly smiled at the sudden confession, before you took a big gulp of your tea. his head was spinning, and maybe it had been something in the tea, but blade could feel his tongue loosen with the many things he had been holding back. “i did. i do.”

a twinge of hurt crossed your eyes for a moment, before you casted your eyes downward. “oh.”

“i hated how nice you are,” he blurted out. “i hated how you would look at me with a great deal of concern in your eyes like i am someone to be pitied.”

“i hated how you’d still try to be there and talk to me, even when i had pushed you away before.”

“i hated how you are able to read me like the back of your hand. i hated how you could easily make me feel safe with your smile.” blade had wanted to stop talking, but the words kept going.

“i hated how gently you would tend to my scars, how your eyes would sparkle at the mention of something you love and how downright mesmerizing it is for me.” he watched as your eyes widened, before they were plunged in a tirade of emotions that were no doubt a result to his words.

he wasn’t finished yet, though.

“but most of all, i hated how whenever i’m around you, or even think about you, dying is the last thing i’d ever wish for.”

the uncomfortable silence settled in between them again, save for the whirring of the machines that blade was suddenly grateful for. he couldn’t bear to even look up at you, lest he’d see the hurt in your eyes again. “blade...”

“sorry. that was very unbecoming of me. i can go.”

“blade...” he took the last gulp of his tea before bringing the cup down with a clang. “thank you. for the tea, as always—”

“blade.” he looked up to finally meet your gaze that was only a breath away from him, before he could feel your hand gently cradling his cheek before you leaned your forehead against his.

oh. oh. you didn’t say anything more but still singlehandedly calmed his largest worries with just a simple gesture.

“you know, you could have just told me you liked me a lot.” typically, the cheeky and teasing tone in your voice would make him groan, but only this time, he allowed himself to smile. “also, what did you mean by the tea?”

now he was confused. “didn’t you give me tea?” you shook your head. “what the hell was that then?”

you could hardly suppress a grin. “you said you wanted rice wine one time, so …” so that’s why all those words spilled out of him … a groan escaped blade just as you laughed at his mishap, but not that he completely regretted it.

he knew that no matter what he did, he could never deserve someone like you — but he would choose to die for you a million times, that much was certain.

but for now, blade could most definitely contend for choosing to live for you instead.

written by carlyle (@particular-one) copyright: all content belongs to particular-one on tumblr (2023)

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kaorisun · 11 months

Text

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 immortality is an abundant curse (1)

pairing : blade x reader

tags : angst, hurt no comfort, reincarnation, canon divergence

word count : 5.3k

chapters : one • two • three

crossposted to : AO3

Summary : Like most good things involving his past, Blade keeps them buried deep within, only allowing himself to reminisce in the privacy of his own mind.

Blade recalls the events that caused him to curse his immortality.

Blade smirks at the way the Cloud Knights beside him tremble as they escort him to face the General. His footsteps echo throughout the hall— the only thing he could hear in the silence of the Shackling Prison.

He can hear the General address his underling before he feels a gaze settle on him. Glancing up, he wears a fierce expression as he meets Jing Yuan’s eyes.

The General speaks, “Do you remember me?”

“I remember,” he states, the following words grained into his mind as if they were coded into his very being.

“Of five people, three must pay a price,” Blade starts, smirking at the way the two visibly tense.

“You are not one of them, Jing Yuan.”

Before the General’s young protégé has a chance to react, Blade breaks free from his shackles, the metal flying off his wrists with ease. The Cloud Knights react a moment too late, allowing him the window of opportunity he needs to act first and throw them back.

A watery sword flies past his face, but he merely leans to the side out of the way.

Despite the young swordsman’s skills, his lack of experience and the gap between them is apparent.

With a triumphant expression, he looks to Jing Yuan, anger filling his gaze.

“Goodbye, General. I have more important matters to attend to,” Blade states before disappearing within the shadows of the prison. He can hear Jing Yuan hurriedly command his men to chase after him, but he knows nothing will come of it.

As Destiny’s Slave predicted, they were woefully unprepared, he thinks to himself.

The moment he’s out of their vicinity, that once smug expression falls, returning to its usual stoic, empty state. In his times of solitude, he seems to wear this blank expression often. Without the fires of vengeance fueling his emotions, he becomes a husk of who he used to be.

For a moment, he glances back at the prison he fled from.

Jing Yuan.

While he’s certain he’d be able to pin some sort of blame on the man for his suffering, he refuses to do so. There’s various reasons, but one stands out in his mind as the most prominent.

After all, there was once a time that he trusted his most precious treasure to the man. And that treasure of his was rather fond of the General.

Blade feels a small sliver of warmth at the memory.

Of course, you’d never forgive him if he brought his wrath upon Jing Yuan. You easily angered when he bickered with the man, insisting that the two had to talk it out and make amends. With your peacemaking, he could never stay mad at the other for long.

Besides, he thinks, there are others more directly responsible.

Staring blankly ahead, he pushes the thought aside as he arrives at the designated rendezvous point, eyes gazing off into the distance as Kafka approaches him.

“It took you long enough, Bladie. Thought I’d have to go ahead and get myself arrested without you here,” Kafka chides lightheartedly, “Did the General start monologuing or did you keep me waiting on purpose?”

“I waited for the opportunity to escape, as the slave instructed me to do,” he responds curtly. Kafka looks at him with a small smile.

“Still with that? Elio prefers being called by name, Blade,” she teases. Blade ignores her comment, focusing instead on the way his “name” sounds as she speaks.

“Blade” is but another thing borrowed from others to keep himself afloat. From the clothes on his back to this new name of his, it seems like everything holding him up is borrowed. Even long before he acquired said name, everything he owned was not his.

At least, almost everything. Though, it fills him with bitterness as ghosts of the past enter his head, lingering and meddling in his conscious mind.

Aside from his true name, you were his, were you not? Of course, he’d given you his heart and received yours in return, but that relationship was something that unequivocally belonged to him. It was not something gifted to him, nor was it something lent to him by a bosom friend.

What he had with you was something only the pair of you could understand or claim ownership over. A connection unlike any other— had he been more of an optimist, he’d have called you his soulmate.

Or, rather, if you were still around, perhaps the word “soulmate” wouldn’t drip off his tongue like venom.

Alas, aside from his past relationship, he, too, has his true name. Ren, a name that also belonged to him. Despite that, he prefers to continue on as “Blade” or “the unnamed.”

The name only served as a constant reminder of what is absent, however, so he no longer uses it. Just as he’s grown to no longer recognize the reflection staring back at him in the mirror, the name “Ren” seems less like his own and instead that of a stranger.

Without you there to say his name in the voice he’d once adored, his name became nothing but an untouched fragment of his past.

Alongside his memories of you, he refuses to allow his real name to be tainted by the vengeance, anger, and bitterness that fuels him today.

Like most good things involving his past, Blade keeps them buried deep within, only allowing himself to reminisce in the privacy of his own mind.

“…en! Ren!” a familiar voice calls out to him. Blade cracks open his eyes, finding that he is no longer his Stellaron Hunter self, but Ren.

He remembers this, unable to stop himself from smiling as he sees you fast approaching, a wide, loving smile on your face as your eyes meet. Ren doesn’t need to look around to know that he’s in a memory of his past— much preferring to enjoy this moment.

“You’re back early! Jing Yuan said you’d be out until sundown,” you chime, stopping in front of him. Glancing behind you, Ren spots the General, who offers a casual wave. Chuckling, he looks down at you.

“I finished my duties earlier than expected, so I returned early. What have you been up to? Causing the General trouble?” he asks teasingly, You hit him gently on the arm— a touch not meant to hurt— one that he misses dearly— before smiling.

“He’s causing me trouble, Ren. I’ve been trying to gather herbs and work, but he’s been bothering me incessantly! He seems to only live up to the title of ‘Dozing General’ when it suits him!” you outwardly complain. Ren has to hold back laughter lest he further provoke your ire, so he distracts himself by looking back at Jing Yuan with a quizzical expression.

“I was only telling this one that they work too hard... they could afford to learn a thing or two from my reputation. Ren, why do you allow them to continue overworking like this?” Jing Yuan questions, a docile smile on his face as he approaches, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s because Ren gets injured all the time! He lets me work hard because he likes being pampered,” you retort, glancing over at him with a teasing smile. Ren narrows his eyes.

“I do not enjoy being pampered, as you so claim. You’re merely skilled at healing, so naturally, I’ll come to you for aid,” Ren responds simply. You raise a brow at him before your eyes wander to his arm, gasping.

“Hey! Why didn’t you say you were injured? Come on— I’m patching this up now! See, General? This is precisely why I had to find those medicinal herbs today!” You insist, dragging him off so you can properly tend to his wounds.

While you gather your needed supplies, Ren engages in a game of chess with the other man, using his good arm as you take hold of his injured one with a careful gentleness.

“Ren. Are you that unskilled of a swordsman, or are you doing this on purpose?” Jing Yuan inquires as he observes the board. Ren clicks his tongue.

“Neither. Even our enemies are able to strike me from time to time. I’m not immune to getting injured,” he says, wincing a bit as you disinfect his wound. The other man laughs.

“You also aren’t immortal, Ren. You and this restless lover of yours have short lives. You shouldn’t be so careless,” Jing Yuan scolds, overtaking him and winning their match with ease as if to punctuate his point. You laugh.

“Please, I keep forgetting you’re an old man. You know, I’m not exactly young either. Besides, there’s no such thing as true immortality. There never will be, so don’t be so silly, General. None of us are immortal, and I’m certain none of us take our lives for granted,” you speak gently. Ren glances at you, smiling.

“If we’re truly talking about someone considerably old, then shouldn’t we be talking about—” Ren is cut off by another voice.

“How many times must I mention this? I am not that old.” Imbibitor Lunae approaches with a terse expression. Ren opens his mouth to offer a greeting, but is interrupted once more.

“Injured again? You are lucky your lover is an adept healer, though you should be more careful,” the dragon says before seating himself at the table.

“That’s what I keep saying, but he never listens!” you insist, wrapping bandages around his injury before sighing, “Ren, you’re lucky I love you enough to do this for you.”

“Oh? Does that mean you’re allowing me to make a habit of this?” Ren asks.

“Absolutely not!” you retaliate.

The group bursts into laughter, even Lunae happens to be holding back a faint smile at your annoyance towards Ren’s carelessness.

Ren can’t hold back his own fond expression as he looks around the table— happy to be surrounded by those he cherished, by the people he loved.

Then, his smile falls as his eyes settle on you once more, and he has to remind himself that this is but a memory.

A phantom of what used to be.

No longer is he surrounded by the warmth of close friends. No longer is he familiar with the gentle touch of his lover— all of this is a distant part of his now extended life.

During these times, he was happy.

Despite being surrounded by Vidyadharas, Xianzhou natives, and Foxians, he adored the life he once had. Unlike many others, he did not lament over the span of his life in comparison to those around him. Even if his existence was short-lived, he would be allowed to spend it in its entirety with you.

You were both destined to have a short lifespan, but how lucky he was to be able to spend the entirety of his ephemeral existence with you. The Aeons had truly smiled upon him, allowing him the opportunity to live a fulfilling life alongside someone who had the same outlook.

You both saw the direct effects of chasing after immortality— witnessing the havoc brought by the Denizens of Abundance. Aside from that, having each other was enough to keep you both content.

You’d live together, then you’d eventually die together.

You were supposed to live and die together.

Ren was never supposed to be alive without you by his side.

With that bitterness, the memory quickly fades back into black, another voice bringing him back to the reality he wishes never was.

“Blade? Bladie! Have you always been this unresponsive?” Kafka murmurs. Blade huffs.

“I was thinking,” he mutters.

“I didn’t know you could do that, but could it wait? We still have work to do. First things first, you’re covered in blood, and I have no interest in knowing whose it is, but you should clean it,” Kafka mentions. Blade doesn’t need to look to know it’s his own.

His expression becomes grim at the glaring reminder of what he is: immortal with a monstrous healing ability. More importantly, he’s unable to die.

Blade has become considerably inhuman. Healing salves and medicine are things of the past to him. No longer does he need careful hands to clean his wounds— he just allows them to scar over these days.

Distantly, he can hear your voice echoing in his mind, scolding him for not taking care of himself— insisting that he had to clean his injuries lest they scar over.

But he sees no point. If it isn’t the familiar warmth of his lover, he doesn’t want any sort of first aid or assistance.

Perhaps, each scar is a manifestation of the monster he’s become. Maybe it’s merely his way of punishing himself. Either way, he cares little about it. He thinks it’s counterproductive to ponder about these sorts of things. Thoughts seldom bring back the dead.

“There you go again, lost in your head,” Kafka complains, crossing her arms. “At least enlighten me. You remember parts of your past, don’t you? Care to share with the class?”

Blade remains silent, causing Kafka to laugh a bit.

“Come on. There must be a reason that you’re gloomy and pissed all the time in private. You only have that aggressive ferocity when it has to do with your revenge. Otherwise, you’re practically a husk. So? What’s your story?” she asks with a smirk. He looks away, expression remaining a blank slate.

Such things aren’t her business. Those memories would remain untouched.

“Beyond my need and targets for vengeance, I don’t remember anything,” he claims in a monotonous tone. Clearly, it’s convincing enough for Kafka because she quickly continues with her own train of thought.

“Well, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you used to be less… bland. You used to be cheerful, apparently. I can’t imagine it, personally, much less what could’ve happened to change you into the polar opposite. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a rumor,” Kafka muses.

“I can hardly believe it. It’s likely just a baseless rumor,” Blade expresses, though deep down his chest tightens. Reminded of your expression, he knows that there indeed exists a time where he could truly consider himself happy.

All of it is so far in the past that he hardly remembers how it feels— true joy. He’s familiar with the burning sensation rage brought, and the slight satisfaction of getting the upper hand— but happiness?

Much like his former self, it’s a concept that’s become foreign to him.

Despite how he may feel about that, it’s unimportant. The joy of his past is insignificant in the face of the tragedy of your passing and his “prosperity.”

Nothing can change the fact that you’re gone and he, by some curse, isn’t.

Above all else, revenge on your behalf is Blade’s top priority.

He still needs to pay for taking everything away from him.

For cursing him with his current disposition.

Initially, Blade— Ren is naive to just how awful a curse immortality is.

On the brink of a premature death, he lies near motionless in Imbibitor Lunae’s arms, vision blurring in and out of focus. Breathing is painful, yet his body is numb.

He rasps out your name, wishing only to see your face in his final moments— wishing that he had more time with you.

It’s too soon— I need more time, he thinks to himself.

I don’t want to die.

Perhaps, Imbibitor Lunae can hear these thoughts of his, or perhaps, driven by his own desires, refuses to allow Ren to die.

Before he knows it, it feels as if a new life is being breathed into him, his body rapidly healing, taking in a sharp inhale as his vision clears and his body repairs itself.

With wide eyes, he looks to the Vidyadhara, communicating all of his thoughts through a single expression.

Fear.

“I’m… healed..? I feel different… you…” Ren trails off. The other does not speak, and the silence is the answer he needs.

He says nothing. Because that day, he is allowed to return home to you and your loving warmth. Ren fools himself into believing that, perhaps, immortality is a blessing in certain circumstances.

Wrapped up in your arms once more, he actually believes himself to be lucky to have immortality bestowed upon him.

However, just as quick as Lunae made the decision to breathe immortality into him, he’s reminded of why immortality is nothing but a curse of abundance.

Ren finds himself coming to believe that he would’ve been better off dying and awaiting your arrival in the afterlife. Though he would’ve broken his promise to live and die by your side, you both would’ve been better off.

You both would’ve been happier.

Instead, he’s forced to watch you slowly crumble with age. Strangely, you never visually grow any older, but he can see the way your body slows— the pain you’re in.

Jing Yuan, Lunae, and himself are forced to watch as your cheery disposition mellows out as you grow older, unable to run around and gather herbs as you once did, hardly able to keep fighting alongside everyone else anymore.

Despite that, you still dutifully mend his wounds. You make no comment on his immortality or the pace at which he healed— you never did since finding out about it. Whether it’s for his sake or yours, he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know if you detest him for it.

With time, your mellowness becomes weakness until you can only be out for a couple of hours at a time— bedbound when your body no longer allows for activity.

Your outlook is grim. Ren knows this just as well as his close confidants do, but he never leaves your side. His love for you never wavers.

Just as you did for him in your younger years, he cares for you dutifully. The man makes your meals, mixes your medicine, entertains you— anything you need.

Though you both remain the perfect picture of your younger selves, your body is breaking down while Ren remains as he did the day he was granted immortality.

Desperately, Ren attempts to ignore your incoming demise— trying to push down his pain when he sees you become more and more tired, the color of your eyes dulling with each passing day— the only physical sign that you’re nearing your end.

Before he knows it, before he’s ready, that fateful day arrives.

Ren is forced to leave your side to tend to his duties. As much as he doesn’t want to, he has to go, hardly able to bring himself to walk away, let alone bid farewell, even if it’s temporary.

“Leaving…? When will you be back?” you ask in a gentle voice, the warmth never leaving your tone no matter how weak you’ve become. Ren smiles softly, trying to save face as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“By nightfall. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he promises. There’s an expression in your eyes that he can’t quite place, but you speak before he can acknowledge it.

“Ah… but it always feels so long for me,” you mention with a light laugh. The sentence holds an unspoken weight, acknowledging the vast differences in your lifespans. Ren has to hold back tears as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“Either way, I’ll be back today. I won’t keep you waiting,” he says, pulling away. Ren glances over at the door where Imbibitor Lunae and Jing Yuan stand, soon forcing himself from your side and walking over.

“They’ll be okay,” Jing Yuan states, a silent oath to watch over you visible in his determined expression. Ren nods, preparing to leave before you call out.

“Ren?”

He looks back at you.

“Yes? What is it? Is something wrong?” he asks. You pause, searching his expression.

“If something happens… Promise you’ll find your way back to me,” you say. Ren’s heart tightens at the fragility in your gaze— the worry in your tone. Forcing another smile, he hopes to reassure you.

“Nothing will happen to me. I promise. I’ll return to you,” he swears. For a moment, you seem like you have something else to say, but bite your tongue. Instead, you nod, regarding him with a saddened yet adoring expression.

“If you insist. Goodbye, Ren. I love you,” you say.

“See you again, my love. I love you too,” he responds and walks out the door.

The day passes and upon his return, he wishes that he’d never left in the first place.

“They’re gone, Ren. I walked away for just a moment and they left,” Jing Yuan insists.

“It can’t be that simple! They have to be around here somewhere— we have to find them!” Ren insists in a panic, about to dash out the door.

This time, Lunae stops him with a firm grip of his shoulder.

“They’re no longer with us. It’s been hours since their disappearance. Jing Yuan already searched tirelessly and fruitlessly,” the Vidyadhara reminds him. Ren wants to retaliate— he desperately wants to insist that you must be out there, but Jing Yuan interrupts him before he can start.

“I had a feeling. They said goodbye to you, Ren. They knew. I don’t think they wanted us to see them like that. They didn’t want us to remember them in… this state,” Jing Yuan explains, a grim expression on his face as he glances over at the empty bed. Ren feels his heart shatter, tearing himself away from the two.

“No! I have to see it for myself!” he insists angrily, running off in hopes that you’d be out collecting herbs like you always did— hoping that you’d return to him with a loving smile.

Ren never found you.

Years passed, and aside from tales written in stories and memories, it was as if you never existed.

No matter how hard he looked, he never found you, dead or alive.

As time continued on without you, his resentment grew as grief shattered his mind. Ren learned the true pain of being immortal— living knowing that all he’d ever loved had departed from this world.

Ren will never meet you in the afterlife. And you will never return.

This fact causes him to bury his memories beneath vengeance and fury— his mind set on delivering karmic debt to those who caused this predicament. Cutting himself off from who he used to be, he wanders— an unnamed whose existence becomes bathed in blood.

He’s desperate to die— to meet you once more, but he'll be unable to face you if he doesn’t drag those who caused this down with him. Immortality is a sin, but more so is the centuries he’s been keeping you waiting in the netherworld.

It is then that he meets Kafka and Destiny’s Slave, Elio.

While unable to return you to him, they provide the promise of death in return for his cooperation.

Thus, “Blade” was born, now enacting his plans for vengeance in hopes that at the end of it all,

He’ll be freed from this curse, finally able to reunite with you in death.

Firm in his resolve, he turns towards Kafka once more, having become clearly disinterested given the way he continuously ignored her.

“We shouldn’t idle around. Let’s go,” Blade states, eyes alight with passionate fury once more.

Aboard another section of the Xianzhou Luofu, a lone Vidyadhara stares curiously at a pair of wanted posters newly plastered on the bulletin.

Eyes trained on the male, you feel your heart tighten, a strange feeling of longing filling your chest.

“Blade… Blade…?” The name feels foreign on your tongue, but the face of this man is anything but. A single tear rolls down your face, causing you to reach up, wiping it away with slight confusion.

“Why am I…?” your voice trails off as you look back at the photo. It all feels so familiar, but you’re unable to place it. It’s disheartening.

“Hey! There you are!” a young voice calls out. You turn around, smiling as a young swordsman prances up to you.

“My apologies, I didn’t know you were looking for me,” you say softly. Yanqing hums.

“Not me, the General. The Healer Lady finished your medicine and she wants to see you aga— are you okay? Were you crying?” he asks worriedly, concern etched into his features. You laugh lightly and glance back at the poster. Yanqing’s eyes follow your gaze and he has to hold back a gasp upon realizing what you were looking at.

“It’s nothing. This man just seems… familiar to me. It’s been so long and everything is still so foggy to me… I wonder if he’s from my previous incarnation, but I cannot be certain,” you explain, clearly distressed. Yanqing gently grabs your hand, leading you forward.

“W-Well! Lady Bailu always says you shouldn’t force it, so let’s get going. You can talk with her about it. I’m sure she’ll give you much more insight than I could,” he chimes. You smile, nodding in agreement.

“That’s true. Bailu is far more familiar with this than I am despite reincarnating much more recently than I. I’m grateful to have been in her care. Oh, and of course, I’m plenty grateful that the General has been caring for me now, as well,” you hum, allowing the boy to drag you off to the Seat of Divine Foresight.

Upon your arrival, the General glances over with a fond smile. This man also seems very familiar to you, but as Yanqing mentioned, forcing memories of your past is unwise. Without having anyone who knew your last incarnate, you just had to wait. If they return, they would do so naturally.

“General! I found them,” the boy called out. Jing Yuan nods.

“Welcome back. How was your stroll?” he asks kindly. You walk over, offering a warm expression.

“It was lovely. Though I can’t journey out behind the Exalting Sanctum, I still enjoy the scenery,” you express. Jing Yuan chuckles.

“I'm glad you don’t mind the restriction. It’s for safety purposes. Of course, I’m sure your work with Bailu will allow you more freedom. It’d just be better if you didn’t venture out without an escort,” Jing Yuan explains, watching as you acknowledge his statement with a smile.

“I know, and I understand why. Ah, Lady Bailu is waiting for me, right? She’s checking up on me, then I have to tend to my duties with her,” you mention. The General nods.

“She’ll be here shortly. While I still have you here, have any new memories come through?” he asks curiously, a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes. You look away, that painful feeling returning once more.

“Yes, but… it’s… that man in the wanted posters. He looks so familiar to me, but the name doesn’t feel right,” you murmur before offering a wry smile. “Perhaps he just reminds me of someone I once knew? I’m not certain, but it’s something.”

Jing Yuan remains silent for a moment before brushing it off quickly before you notice. With a sympathetic smile, he walks over and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Even so, it’s a step closer towards remembering. Now, why don’t you await Bailu’s arrival outside? I have a few matters I need to discuss with Yanqing,” the General says. You glance between the two before bowing politely.

“Of course. I’ll see you two later. Yanqing. Stop by later so I can replace the bandage on your face. If you don’t keep it clean, it’ll scar,” you chide lightly. Yanqing pouts a bit at your insistence but agrees nonetheless.

“I will! See you later!” he chimes. You wave at the pair before exiting the hall. Soon after you leave, the young boy’s expression falls, looking over at the General.

“I know Blade is evil, but… is this really right, General? Keeping their memories from them and hiding their existence from him seems…” Yanqing trails off. Jing Yuan releases a deep exhale.

Truthfully, your return had come as a shock to him as well. Just as Ren did, he firmly believed you were a human.

Imagine his shock when you returned, not as a human, but a Vidyadhara. It was then that he learned that, like Imbibitor Lunae, your horns and tail would appear at your will, and your ears were far less pointy than your draconic counterparts.

When you had disappeared that day, you had done so to properly reincarnate once more. However, he only managed to find you now in your young adult years after seeing you work alongside Bailu.

Since that day, he’d been keeping his promise from ages ago to watch over you and keep you safe. All of it was an easy feat given that you trusted him rather quickly, likely due to an inherent familiarity you had toward him.

You couldn’t remember who he was, those memories buried deep within your consciousness, given that you’d spent years on your own, mind foggy and memories shattered.

While he’s certain that it’s but a matter of time until your memories return, he sincerely hopes it won’t be anytime soon.

Keeping you hidden away from the public eye is difficult enough as is. If you remember, he’ll have no choice but to respect your wishes, no matter what they may be.

Turning towards Yanqing, Jing Yuan gives him a stern gaze.

“Yangqing. It goes beyond the comfort of knowing. If I told Re— Blade, he’d want to remain by their side,” he starts and his expression becomes grim. “Tell me. As he is now, an IPC fugitive and a Stellaron Hunter, do you think Blade could provide them with the life they deserve, or the stability they need?”

Yanqing quiets momentarily before speaking up again, “But..! Back then, you always told me they were so close— that Blade is this way because he lost them. Maybe if he at least knew…”

Jing Yuan sighs. He cannot fault the naivety of a child, let alone the pure hopefulness in his expression, but he has to explain it properly lest the boy do something rash.

“If he knew, he’d stop at nothing to be with them. Right now, he longs for death solely to be reunited with them. Blade has long since abandoned the righteous path. While I cannot fault him for it, I also don’t doubt that he’d burn down the entire Luofu if it meant returning with them,” the General explained. Quickly noticing Yanqing’s saddened expression, he ruffles his hair playfully.

“It’s better this way. I promise you that,” he assures. The young swordsman sighs.

“I know but it’s all so sad! They saw his picture and started crying. I didn’t know what to do…”

“Well, they’ll learn the truth someday. All we can do is keep them safe until then. When the time comes, they’ll make their own decision of what to do with the burden of their past.”

Yanqing frowns. “It seems cruel to have to make that choice. I wish they didn’t have to…”

Jing Yuan hums in agreement, but allows the conversation to taper off, leaving them in silence.

Perhaps, there exists a timeline where neither of you were cursed with immortality— a world where, back in those lighter days, the two of you lived and died together.

However, it seems that the Aeons had other plans for you two. The General considers himself lucky to have been saved from such a tragedy.

After all, Jing Yuan is certain that you and Blade are soulmates. No amount of pain or suffering will change that.

What he’s clueless about is if, or rather, when your memories return to you and you recall the way your soul was once intertwined with Ren’s,

Would you allow it to remain but a distant memory, something to be left to the times of your past? Or…

Would you stray away from the proper path to return to Blade’s side?

Only time can tell, and that time, he knows, is fast approaching.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai blade #hsr blade #blade hsr #honkai blade x reader #hsr blade x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x reader #hsr fic #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail fic #hsr angst #honkai star rail angst #cross posted on ao3 #ao3 crosspost #kaori-writes

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chiyoso · 9 months

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Okay here me out...... If you could fuck Aeons...... Nanook

A WARLORD'S SOLITUDE

nanook, an eldritch, ancient mystery of destruction, had been playing as the puppeteer of death all over the continent since ancient times. a being, involved in the horrors of the world with one simple goal; to destroy and decay life. however, the day he decided to wreak havoc, his eyes wavered at the sight of a familiar figure, you.

ა content warnings. reincarnated lover reader · immortal god au · reader is implied as female · mentions of death and destruction · mature content · he gets hard at the end for you lmao · nanook goes by he/him in this fic · dead dove.

ა author notes. this wasn't smut (sry anon), but i did cook something. wc estimated to be 2k above?? not proofread and edited thoroughly cos this shit was made at 3am.

You couldn't be more mesmerized.

The dread in his face couldn't compare to the ones that witnessed his glorious, aurate form.

He was brilliant, a transcendent being, and he was an Aeon who was filled with mixed emotions of fear, love and confusion.

He looked more terrified than the mortals that ran for their lives beneath his wavering gaze, as the lustrous, golden irises landed upon a creature whose familiarity was certain, and it had shook the Aeon's core deeply.

The divine being was left with intensifying feelings of fear, his chest dripping with golden liquid, leaving out of him just like his shaky breath.

You were there, standing and taking witness to the golden-colored darkness, taking in a situation that will be left recorded in the history books. Your eyes hover and dilate upon a figure that was twice the size of a mountain, the once blue and calm moon that illuminated the world, was now enveloped with a golden hue, assumingly so from the revered Aeon's sudden appearance.

You trembled at the sight of the renounced being that was loathed, feared and looked down upon — but you didn't feel fear, you felt undeniably drawn to its sudden presence in an artistic way, you were always quite an explorer. Your fear of the unknown made your surroundings feel uneasy about you, a beautiful human, that was filled of eccentricness.

In your trembling hands were a coal-tip pen and a thin book with contents of your accumulated sketches, you couldn't hear the deafening screaches of terror as the crowd runs to the opposite of where you were walking towards, it was art or nothing.

It was either to create a masterpiece for future artists to take and witness, or nothing.

Nothing mattered except the heavenly sight that was bestowed upon your eyes in this moment, you were transfixed, in awe, as your irises gloss upon the gold that was within his dark complexion, his long braids that destroyed an ecosystem in mere seconds and beneath him was that of a crater.

You continued to stare at the giant, drunk with inspiration — his golden, translucent, and glowing eyes, filled with a confusion of depair reeling you in deeper as you wondered about that seemed uncharacteristic of an Aeon, but you didn't dwell long on the thought as your hands starting to move on its own, beginning to draw your heart out while your head kept glancing back and forth repeatedly towards the coal-filled page and godlike piece you were drawing, your feet, bringing you to him as you continued to draw, unfortunately, you were finally deemed crazy by the people running for their lives, momentarily eyeing your actions, bringing them a millisecond of confusion, before continuing to sprint from the grasps of death.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! RUN DAMMIT!”

One said looking over to you with a mixture of panic and anger in his expression, his volume of voice minimizing as he ran away from the deathly scene. People continued to run from the hauntingly glorious sight, pushing one another in a panicked flurry, the sounds of their stomping, shaking the earth.

A majority of eyes had forced themselves onto you, physiques mostly dodging your still body in their attempt of preservation for their loves, except when—“F-... Fuck!” A person from your village knocked into you, resulting in your book of sketches, falling down onto the dirt as a wave of feet stomped on it repeatedly.

A turbulent of emotions raged within your heart, the feelings of heartache and despair surfacing physically as your eyes glisten with tears, bringing a hand to your mouth with shock from the thought of years of progress and creation, crumbling to dust with such a simple yet cruel act.

Nanook reacted to the spectacle, the sight of your grimace in your face, snapping him out of his thoughts, his protective instincts kicking in as the tip of his finger reaches out towards your direction, his burning ambers on the sight of the village — or more specifically, the man whom caused you pain.

A striking sharp sound ensued from the heavens, the nightly sky flickering with a golden hue repeatedly, the dark sky was like a canvas as lighting marks decorated the ether. You reacted, raising your head towards the source of the noise, your glistening eyes glimmered at the event, causing your despair to a sudden halt, replaced with excitement and artistic intuition from the ethereal sight before your eyes.

Suddenly, golden rays of light from the heavens came crashing down vertically towards the earth with intense velocity and speed, raining glorious hellfire upon the land surrounding you with a blinding light that forced you to cover your eyes. Even then, you were beyond satisfied with the thought of dying to such a disaster, it was a beautiful chaos.

The art before you made you speechless, and it filled your heart and mind with bliss as you feel the heat surrounding you closing in, the light almost engulfing and grazing your skin.

You were ready, you were happy and satisfied to perish within a beautiful aurora of gold.

You liar.

A deafening silence followed shortly after the intense, crackling sounds of power and despair. Confusion welled up inside you as you were still able to feel the nightly breeze grazing your skin, hugging your form, trembling in the sudden dread of cold air lapped around you.

You open your eyes slowly, reluctantly, revealing a gorey sight, a field of grim and lifeless art surrounding you. The hateful village that you once knew, had fallen apart, a future ruin that is now left as a remnant for future inhabitants of the world, a fragment of a history laid to waste by the Aeon of Destruction, who stayed and proved true to his myth.

“You're not real,” the Aeon, who bathed and dripped in gold, voiced out with a solemn, shaky tone.

The once giant of a man that shook the earth, was now of a size of a human adult male, and he was walking towards you, the gold from his figure and his steps, dripped down on the bloodied floor of lifeless bodies, leaving a trail of golden liquid before stopping just respectfully before you.

How could you possibly react to the situation at hand? Such a destructive, force of nature, shakily uttering your name with undertone of despair, the sight of his beautiful, ornate eyes dilating, studying you, memorizing you.

Myths that you had a hard time believing from your continuous torment from others, praying and hoping to be enlightened and saved— now being preyed upon with such power under his watchful gaze.

“H-How did you-” You voice cracked, heavy confusion accompanied with slight fear were apparent in your whole being.

How did he know your name? Why were you alive? Why was he looking at you this way? Why did I only get spared?

You continued to overthink, your mind racing with thoughts.

The great Nanook, who painted your only home in red and ashes.

The great Nanook, who inflicted countless of deaths, disasters and terror since the beginning of time. He was the true form of destruction and despair himself.

Yet, that gaze... It wasn't befitting of a God.

Nanook looked at you with such an almost unrecognizable look, unfathomable emotions in his eyes, wavering at the sight of you, his beautifully constructed face faltered into the depths of similar to a heartache, weeping in gold within his eyes while the memories from his over lived lifetime continue to hit him like a celestial disaster that would engulf the whole world, his whole world... being you.

The you who was so familiar to him, the you that would bring back countless memories about love wnd happiness, the you who left within his arms in your previous life eons ago, the light in your eyes leaving, dreading him from ever loving again. Reincarnation was a mystery even to destruction himself, some would reincarnate after death, some would take millennium, eons, or a lifetime.

And yet, there you were, a fragment of himself, and he felt whole again, witnessing such a miracle, seeing you again, so close yet so far to him.

“Aeon,” you called out to him in a hushed voice, your face filled with confusion and fear replaced with concern and worry because your gaze landed upon the golden liquid, cascading down from his saddened eyes.

Nanook, flinched to your voice, the sound reverberating within his ears, causing his heart to flutter to your dearly missed chords.

It was different, but it was yours.

He'd only stiffen up, dilating irises staring longingly into yours, having intense, overwhelming feelings of confusion, aching, a deep longing for none other than you.

You weren't the her that he knew, but you were still the soul that he ached for and cherished. He brought a hand to his head, exhaling short, heavy breaths instead of audibly sobbing despite the golden tears that stained his cheeks.

The Aeon was both smitten and terrified at the sight of you, his eyes glossing over every feature that existed before his eyes, cherishing every millisecond with you. He took several deep breaths, composing himself before taking another step forward to you.

“D- Don't come any closer-...” You said in a panic, taking a step back simultaneously as fear began to creep back within you again.

“Please...” You continued, your voice starting to tremble, you had expected him to not listen, since, he was after all—a being of decay and havoc, but instead, you witness him flinch to your words, his heart shattering from your desire to make him stay disganced, retracting his reaching hand from you and standing in place as he stares at you with a visible faint frown.

“Do you... Do you know me?” You asked, steadying your quickened breath as you steel your gaze towards him, looking for answers, keenly observing his body language and facial features with the accumulated skill you had as an artist.

Nanook was silent for a few long moments, taking deep shaky breaths, he was starting to calm as well, finding solace in your voice, savoring it this time more intensely, not wanting to part from the existence of you again.

“It... It matters not flowe-”

“It does, and you know it.”

You cut him off without missing a beat, your courage returning, confident that he won't be able to hurt you—having that identified from the way he was acting.

The firmness of your tone accompanied with your unwavering gaze, caused him to look away to the side, his cheeks beginning to heat.

It was all so closely familiar to him, the way your voice rang with a firm, fearless tone, the way you would hold your ground in every situation even if risked your precious life, the way he knew of your unquenchable curiousity and wonder, the way your plump lips frowned to him, as fragments of memories continue to overwhelm him, flickering in his mind.

“Aeon Nanook,” you called out to him again but with alias name, echoes of his name replaced the silence with no response from him.

He couldn't respond.

Instinctively, you began to pace forward to him as your curiousity began to grow—remembering the spectacle before this situation, on how the air filled with an aurora of gold, the air, filled with shimmering particles of the same color that was flowing all over his body, his well carved, toned and physique that you couldn't help but glance to it every now and then, your womanly and artistic senses battling each other in your internal struggle

And the nickname for you? Flower? Why does he act in such a manner? What does he—

“You are aware of my prominence and alias, yet you continue to call me by my title,” he'd intercept your thoughts, trying to sound like his normal, glorious self, but the sight of you accompanied by your voice was too much for his fluttering heart, the beads of his sweat trickled along his neck, the darkened hue all over his cheeks that had spread to his ears the moment you stepped several paces closer towards the higher being—and that confused, but intrigued you even more.

The latter was winning.

“Then,” you said, before stopping before him, a safe yet risky distance as the gap between was far more lesser.

“Your eminence, Nanook of Destruction...” he stiffened as you call out to him, simultaneously placing a hand to your chest, your gaze locked and piercing as your fear completely diminishes from your body, replaced with overwhelming curiousity, and determination.

“Forgive me for my insolence, but if I were to die, I'd rather be informed,”

He could never hurt you.

“You have spared me, even upon laying waste on the land I once called my home, your brilliant attacks managing to—not once, move towards my way,” you've arrived just infront of him, a genuine frustration apparent in your expression.

“Why.”

The toughness of the situation may have affected your senses right now, but you could have sworn you heard him curse under his breath seeing his mouth part slightly, his bangs covering his face as he tilted his flushed face down, but you didn't dwell on it further as you were brimming with a desire for questions.

The blush remained on his face, his eyes narrowing to you, causing you to retract back a few steps away, the reality returning to you that you were current demanding a being far from the mortal grasp, your grasp.

You didn't know, but his head spun from the flood of emotions and memories of the past, and your actions tipped him over the edge, causing him to get drunk with overwhelming love, affection and lust for you, the golden liquid all over him starting to boil, looking towards the earth beneath the both of you.

He was reduced to a weak man as of right now.

“I...” He cleared his throat, his gaze returning to yours as his body language tells you all kinds of information, and dammit, everything was an itch to your brain as to how illogical the situation was.

“Flower...” There it is again.

“You wouldn't believe m-”

“I speak with an individual who is considered to be a myth at the moment, try me,” you interrupted again, showing the firmness of your question and decision, and he was so absolutely smitten by you once more, falling in love all over with you again, a personality that he missed so much, causing his heart to blare, interrupting his internal thoughts, thoughts of how to answer you.

You then take a step forward once more, your eyes never leaving his, and if you walked two more paces, towards him, you would've been within his personal space, not that he would mind.

“A supreme being, speaking to me as if I were someone dear to you, sparing me from the demise of your powerful feats. A manifested concept of destruction, gazing—carrying this heavy tone similarly to a man who's utterly lovesick towards a maiden he admires from afar.”

You weren't far from the truth.

You then narrow your eyes to him, closing the distance once more with one more step, looking up to the towering sunlight of a man before you.

“Forgive me talking in such a way that would invoke discomfort towards you, but I want to address the illogical problem—you continuing to call me a name like I am a person so familiar and so close to you.” At this point, he couldn't hide the flush in his face anymore from the almost closeness between you two.

You're just so...

Nanook continued to gaze downwars to you, listening to every word you're saying intently, your strong will, courage and curiousity that he was all too familiar with, finding you absolutely adorable and alluring—but he won't admit that, at least not for now.

“Reincarnation, my flower. It is because you are, familiar,” he took a deep breath, lowering his gaze.

“So very familiar and known to me...” his voice trails, you noticing the trembling of his lips.

You were so, so close.

He bathed in your familiar scent that was addicted to before, and taking a whiff of it after so long, he seemed drugged, dazed wnd intoxicated.

His eyes starting to haze as well as his mind, savoring the closeness of the two of you. His dazed, loving gaze continued to study and savor you like a revered, famous artwork, amused by the visible disbelief and contempt on your expression that he caused.

You felt out of touch from the emotions you were experiencing, every emotion you were feeling were so foreign to you, and it was a scary yet thrilling experience.

You didn't want to melt to the nickname he kept calling you, you didn't want to react to his sweet, rich voice, talking to you like you were the best thing in his whole, supreme existence, but your body betrayed you, showing the faintest hint of a blush, starting to show.

You didn't process the information he uttered out to you, you couldn't, and you didn't want to, even if you knew it wasn't a lie, since it came from an Aeon especially.

The fact that you knew the meaning behind his body language, the way you tried being oblivious to his facial expressions, his flushed out face, and the way his gaze would make you feel so special and wanted.

You didn't want to come to a correct conclusion, you didn't want logic to... logic. Perhaps some other Aeon of Life and Death were playing a sick game towards the both of you.

The astronomical luck of this Aeon, as well as yours, meeting you in this era, this lifetime, was most, most absurb.

You couldn't fanthom it, and the thought of being intimate with such a destructive force of a being like him, doing all of those things together.

Fuck, you then quickly turn around from him, feeling your cheeks grow hot, resulting in Nanook to jolt, your actions bringing him back to reality as your back was now faced towards him.

He has killed and ceased many souls, he has caused endless death and destruction for eons and eons of his existence, his sole purpose was and is to take and destroy, being a puppeteer to his Emanators and subjects who did his deeds for him. He was a feared and revered being, he is a glorious, beautiful being whom destroyed your village, he would most likely continue to lay destruction if it hadn't been for you, and—

Your mind contined to wander about, your cheeks continuing to feel hot as the red tint finally revealed itself, spreading to your ears.

“Flower—?”

“Why... Why do you continue to call me that—!”

You hissed, your voice came out high pitched, reducing the aggressive tone you originally wanted, but you couldn't help it, you were feeling yourself fluster further for the wrong reasons.

“I- I don't know you... I can't perceive you in such ways,” you say meekly, lowering the volume of your voice.

Hm?—“What ways, do you speak about flower?”

The Aeon mused, walking to your side, tilting his body down and taking a glimpse of what was happening, the moment he saw your mirrored blush, he felt more alive than he already is as his lips curl into a faint smirk, placing his hand onto the top of your head, rubbing your head gently and affectionately, and since he knew you through and through, he most definitely knew you were in denial about the facts that even you yourself didn't want to accept, because you were such a smart woman, such a lovely, lovely intelligent woman whom he cherished dearly.

He would've included you within his golden auroras of death if he wanted to harm you. He would've already killed you even after you somehow escape from the attack if he wanted to. He wouldn't be patting your head so lovingly if he wanted to cause you pain. Why would you let him touch your hair even? Why did you want to get closer to him? Why would he—

“Love,” He muttered to you, not realizing his mouth was near your ear, causing shivers down your spine as a soft yelp escapes your mouth in shock from the new cute name along with his actions.

“Shall I continue to inform you? I assume your... thoughts are currently running with a vast amount of things, correct me if I'm wrong,”

His usage of coyness only continued, having your confidence wavered—intentions of breaking that wall of strength, just like him when you managed to tame him.

“You can resist me,” the hand from the top of your head currently wasnow tracing down along your nape, his thumb brushing along your skin, the warming of your skin being felt as your cheeks burn further.

He certainly knew how to make you feel, he'd know how to rile you up, whether it'd be wholesomely, or sinfully, he knew you through and through, at least—the soul harboring the current body of yours that is, and all that could be achieved by none other than him, and him only.

“Nanook...” You call to him, soft and vulnerable, turning your head towards him, revealing your uncontrolled reddened face, your expression trying to not show any signs of weakness to him.

His gaze softened further, the sight of you causing him to chuckle as his deep, rich laughter felt so pleasing to your ears, not helping you in your situation.

“Even-... Even if I was reincarnated as you said, I-I don't know you,” he moved closer, needing to hear you, wanting to hear you.

“At- At least not like in the life that you and I were...” You attempt to look away, your face sunken, dusted with a deep, visible blush, showing such a side that spiked Nanook's heart rate, along with yours

Neither of you were dumb, nor ignorant.

Both of you were intelligent enough to know that there was a lingering air of attraction and warmth surrounding the two of you, despite the you in this lifetime not knowing absolutely anything about him, be it his personality, the intimacy you two shared, and what you cherished most, emotional vulnerability.

The thought of being lovers, being so heavily intimate with such an attractive, powerful being left you pondering deeplyyou, making you wonder about all kinds of things as your cheeks remained heavily flushed.

You then flinch, the feeling of his hand formerly on your nape, now moving down towards your lower back, wrapping his hand to your curves, gently and sensually caressing it.

“You're right,” His other hand then reaches up to your chin, making you face him as his face grows near to yours.

“And yet... you aren't resisting my advances as of this moment, why is that?” He hummed, his smirk remaining on his face, knowing he caused your head to spin and fluster you into the depths of warmth and affection, but he was also absolutely experiencing euphoria along with you, experiencing so much happiness and warmth from your familiar presence that had always had such a strong effect on him.

He was acting coy and smug, masking that unconditional, unwavering deep love and affection that he had for you, previously buried until forgotten, except his all of his weaknesses began to starting to resurface, having trouble discerning if it was good or bad, but—the only thing that felt good, was him basking in delight from your presence again.

He was right though, why weren't you rejecting his touches? His forward advances? The way your cheeks would flush deeper he speaks in such a loving tone that caused your heart rate to spike its pace, the way he would brush his thumb across your chin as he held it, gazing lovingly upon your face with a warm smile that you almost melted to.

He most definitely saw you before this whole situation erupted, he saw your familiar eccentricity, he saw the way your eyes gleamed whilet you passionately drew your heart away to the sight of him, he saw the familiar wonder and the way your eyes would shimmer, seeing him in the reflection in your eyes amongst the chaos he previously cause, and... since you assume he knew you through and through.

Does that mean he accepts you?

“Does this mean you accept me?”

You thought aloud, your lips parting to say your uncontrollable thoughts as your eyes continue to gloss over his face, emotions welling up within you.

He accepted you before then? He accepted the way you are? He accepted the parts where you yourself loathed along with the people who casted looks of disdain and unease to you? He accepted the you that was true and weird? All your flaws, and he loves m—?

“And love you, yes.” His words interrupting your thoughts simultaneously, gently pulling your face closer to his with his fingers, his warm breath grazing upon your trembling lips as he smiled so warmly and affectionately towarss you.

“You may not know me in this life, you may not know who I am from within, but believe me when I say this,” He then leaned forward, tilting down his body to match your height, thus presses his lips against your forehead, his soft and warm lips lingering for a few long moments before reluctantly pulling back.

“I have made a promise to you since then, that if I had ever encounter your lovely soul once more and that I have—even in another lifetime, the next one after that, and until my existence is eradicated from existence, until then, I would make you mine. Over and over and over,”

“Do you understand me, love?”

“That... and is there a problem with getting to know me again?” He added, coyly, affection imminent, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, staring at it with an intense loving gaze, biting his own as love filled lustful thoughts seeped into his mind, reminiscing the memories of intimacy.

Ah, his cock underneath pulsed, twitching slightly under his white drapes from the reaction of your lips. Your quivering, plump lips were already moist just by his touch, as a soft whimper escaped your mouth from the heavily intimate gesture he was demonstrating to you.

Your took a sharp, shaky inhale from his loving, impactful words. You didn't know this man, you didn't had anyone look at you, care for you, love you, cherish you, look at you in such a way that everything started to feel blocked out. It was only you and him that existed in the both of your spaces.

The both of your hands travel to his wrist, moving his hand towards your cheek, closing your eyes as you savor and melt into his palm, his thumb continuing to rub against your moist lips.

“You're beautiful, you are.” His pupils turned into hearts just looking at your own gesture, accepting his advances and the intimacy between the two of you.

“You really, really are,” bathed in affection and warmth, an unspoken agreement of a certain love and lust filled and surrounded the two of you.

A vast majority wished to experience the intensifying love these two had, despite their heavy, heavy differences. A mortal, and an Aeon, the Aeon of Destruction in specific. It was a bizzare sight again.

The ground shook, a rumbling was heard in the distance, your moment of loving was cut short, interrupted, as sounds of yelling in the distance catches both of your attention, turning both of your heads to the source of the noise with annoyance and confusion, only to realize the people whom worshipped under other Aeons, a faction whom dedicated themselves to destroy anything and everything about the path of destruction, arrived with an overwhelming multitude of armies, shaking the soil both of you stood on as the skies above them also had soaring fleets, moving towards you and the Aeon.

Nanook's eyes narrowed in annoyance, clicking his tongue to the sight, extending his hands towards the direction of the interruption in an instinct as the golden liquid slithered from his chest to his hands in veiny, lighting marks that appeared all over his extended arm, the tip of his finger radiating a sudden black orb of what seems to be a black hole, the orb surrounded with his signature golden liquid, accompanied with a golden mist and—“Nanook!” You grabbed and placed yourself upon his arm, lowering it as you look to him wincing from the uncomfortable sensation of the golden marks touching against your skin, you shook your head frantically, before speaking to him.

“Don't, please.” He took a fleeting moment, processing your words and pondering deeply to himself. A defeated sigh escapes mouth from the pleading tone and glistening eyes of yours, his gaze softening shortly after as his other free hand grabbed you by the waist, holding you tightly against him, before pointing the summoned black orb of space to the nightly atmosphere, sending the orb soaring up to the stars, his gaze lowering to the armies and fleets that were moving quickly towards the both of you.

“And flower, I'll also get you a new book to draw on as an apology to destroying your home.” He smirked, teasing you as he snapped his fingers, the orb dissipated, a few seconds of silence ensued, before a massive, beautiful explosion shaped of a widened northern star followed suit, causing panic and bafflement to the incoming starskiffs and cloud soldiers from all continents within the Xianzhou.

The ethereal explosion that was just performed, dissipated slowly, but the golden, dust particles of exploding northernstar began to engulf the both of you, covering all of your form, shortly after a bright light emitting towards the both your bodies, before a sudden familiar moonlit darkness returns to the world again, making a hasty, easy escape into the darkness as a golden shower of dust particles illuminated the night sky, leaving unsatisfied feelings of anger, regret and pain towards the army that arrived.

Let his destructive calling be damned, he wasn't going to let you go, not until you two meet in another lifetime again.

the amount of editing i did cause this shit was so old... i mean uhhh—reblogs help my audience reach, thank you.

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taurus-caeli · 2 months

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Firefly Is Forever (An HSR Drabble)

“Ahem.” You turn around to find the latest member of the Astral Express peering up at you.

“Firefly, what is it?”

Wordlessly, the young woman raises her hands; she’s holding a small bag of chocolates.

“These are for you,” she shyly says, pushing them into your chest.

“Oh! Why thank you honey! And this-” You reach behind her head and magically take out your own bag. “Is for you.”

Firefly blinks in amazement. “How did you do that?”

You grin. “A magician never reveals their secrets~.”

Without missing a beat you embrace her. “Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

#firefly hsr #firefly x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fic #honkai star rail drabble #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr #hsr fanfic #hsr x reader

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impactofthegenshin · 16 days

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nicknames they'd use

characters : dan heng, blade, boothill reader : gn!reader warnings : none a/n : the hsr brainrot was getting to me i had to let it out 😩. first time writing for these pretty boys, should i continue posting for hsr?

Dan Heng

"sweetheart"

sweet sweet boy

loves you so much and thinks this is the only appropriate nickname to call you

loves it as much as you, calling you his sweet girl everyday without fail

tells you he loves you every single day and uses this nickname so so often

doesn't it say it much if others are present but loves using it when you're alone with him

"did i tell you i love you sweetheart?"

Blade

"love"

another sweet boy

just wants to love you

he doesn't talk much anyway but slips this in whenever in conversation with you

it's second nature to him now

calls you this nickname everywhere and anywhere, especially when he notices someone ogling

"my love, come and sit next to me"

Boothill

"darlin' "

absolutely adores you so much

his southern accent (mmmghgngjg 🤭)

speaks so fast and slurs his words but you always understand this

will also refer to you as his darlin' with others

loves when you blush at your nickname, making up excuses to use it more often and tease you

"c'mere darlin' lemme give you a quick kiss, yeah?"

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail fic #dan heng #dan heng x y/n #blade #blade x y/n #boothill #boothill x y/n #hsr dan heng #hsr blade #hsr boothill #hsr x reader

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elixrr · 4 months

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ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ! ☆ ʜᴏʏᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴍᴇɴ¡

ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

ꜰᴛ: Xiao, Wriothesley, Lyney, Dan Heng, Argenti, Blade.

ꜱʏɴᴘᴏꜱɪꜱ: Headcanons about their cuddles with you!

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I considered adding Alhaitham into the mix, but I figured that I didn't know his character well enough for his part to be accurate and good. Apologies to all of the Alhaitham fans! Also, new format for my fanfiction posts, inspired by many creators! (Namely iheartganyu)

ᴘꜱ: pretty little spoiler warning if you haven't caught up with anything in either game 😭😭

✰ xiao ✰

— An adeptus of Liyue, the Vigilant Yaksha. It's easy to guess that cuddles with him are rare. Mostly due to his job, but he's too... awkward. Xiao has been touch-starved for the great majority of his life, so it's easy to assume that he's inexperienced, much to his dismay.

Don't get me wrong. He'd love to cuddle more often, but— while inexperience is one part of it, Xiao is ultimately insecure. He strongly believes that he's tainted. He believes that he's a disgusting, vile creature that lives only to slaughter, but he thinks of you as an angel. Xiao thinks that too many cuddles would taint you, alongside the fact that he worries about his Karmic Debt situation.

Nevertheless, when you do convince him to cuddle with you, he'll be awkward at first; hesitant to put his arm here, overthinking how he put his hand there, etc., etc. He doesn't emit much body warmth, but he finds you to be really cozy and warm to the touch, thus finding comfort in the closeness once he moves past the insecurities and hesitation. By the way, unless you like to initiate and contribute to conversations, most of the cuddles will be in comfortable silence, excluding the occasional comment about the scenery or compliments about each other.

Xiao would cuddle on the condition that it's in a secluded area and nobody else is present except for you and him. He'd prefer to book a bedroom at Wangshu Inn, but if not, then he'd prefer to cuddle on the rooftop of the inn, late at night when the stars shine from the heaven-blessed galaxies, the subtle natural light kissing your features to give him a little bit of an extra view. He doesn't think too much about how he looks to you, but he could only hope that he's at least bearable to look at. (Which he very much is.)

☆ wriothesley ☆

— He's so touchy and extra cuddly that sometimes that extra cuddly can be too extra, resulting in a near impossible mission to get out of bed in time for you to even get ready. Wriothesley loves holding you close to him. You're his love, and so he wants to treat you like it, but sometimes cuddles can transform into something a little bit more than just a cozy night, wrapping one's arms around the other.

Speaking of, good luck to you if you prefer being the big spoon, because you can't be the big spoon anymore. Wriothesley will always be the one to hold you, always the one to just wrap his arms around you and cherish you like never before. As previously mentioned, you're his lover, and he wants to treat you like it! Wriothesley wants to make you feel special, like you're the most important person in his life, so he'll do his best to give you that.

Also, I feel as though he'd whisper to you a lot. Even if there's no need to be quiet, he finds it intimate to just lean in and whisper compliments in your ear while holding you close. It doesn't matter what situation you're in; it doesn't matter where you guys are, even if you're talking about your day or the constellations in the skies above, he'll interrupt you, lean in close and just say something about your eyes, maybe your clothes, but preferably your lips.

Wriothesley would also love kissing you at random whenever you cuddle. Not to say he doesn't already do that outside of cuddles, but it's just, to him, you look amazing. You look cute, and why wouldn't he kiss you when you're his gracious lover? He hopes that he doesn't go overboard and accidentally make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, he knows you enjoy it— that smile on your face every time he pecks a kiss on your nose or cheek tells him everything he needs to know.

Before I forget, he doesn't prefer cuddles during any time of the day, but given his job, it's mainly during his afternoon tea breaks, and 100% at night in bed with you. To be honest, if he could, he'd take a full day off just to hold you tight and spend the day with you, wrapped like burritos in a blanket and sipping the day away with refreshments and love.

Some day, he might as well do just that.

☆ lyney ☆

— If it weren't for his job as a magician and as part of the fatui, he wouldn't let go of you. When Lyney can, he clings to you like a lost child who had finally found their parent in a big city. He holds your waist with one hand and performs little magic tricks with the other to impress you. Lyney's a very clingy, touchy lover.

When cuddling, he loves getting super close to the point where there's almost no space between the two of you. But on the occasion, he'll snuggle so close that it's basically just a tight hug—the only difference is that you're both lying down. The only times he isn't super, mega close to you, is when he's making rainbow roses appear randomly around your body. Most of the time, it's all fun and innocent, but other times, Lyney enjoys the look on your face when he does something quite bold.

Also, Lyney's very talkative while cuddling. Even in moments of relaxation, he'll take the time to just stare at you, even if he can't get the full view because of the ungodly lack of space, Lyney will look at you and start complimenting you. He loves you so much, and that's another huge way to show it. He's a romantic kind of guy. If there's a way to show his affection, he will take and use that way to show his affection. He loves your smile; he loves it when you blush, and it slowly grows more evident by the second because he starts to blush, too. Also, Lyney would immediately just hold you more at the sight of your reaction.

Nevertheless, his need to be close can change. Whenever he's out on a mission given by Arlecchino— more specifically, an assassination mission— you won't see him for a good three days. Even when the mission's complete, he'd want to seek out your love, comfort, and affection, but he stops himself. Lyney believes that his hands are still painted with the blood of the murdered, no matter how many times he washes or scrubs them, he'll still see the visible darkening red blood stains. There's no way he's even going near you with those kinds of sins straight on his body. It's sad, and you might have to seek him out yourself if he doesn't show up for the next few days. When you do find him, the moment he sees you is when that wall of guilt shatters, and he nearly breaks down seeing you again. Seeing you every day made him used to you, and just a few days of deprivation made him feel miserable. The simple, mere sight of you had him almost sobbing, running back to you and holding you tight, finally reunited with the one he loves most.

Were he not guilty of association with the fatui, he wouldn't have ever needed or wanted to let go.

☆ dan heng☆

— Blushing little mess. He's never a fan of PDA, so even when he does want to hold you outside of his or your room, he doesn't. Hence why the moment you both enter the private space of a hotel room or a bedroom, Dan Heng takes your hand and leads you to the bed for cuddles. He loves them, really, but he's a flustered mess of a lover because of how embarrassed he felt about being so clingy.

He's a big spoon, too, so he holds you close to him while cuddling. He likes the closeness, but he hates how visibly red his face gets, so he buries his face into your shoulder to hide. Sometimes, he just lays there listening to you or simply calming down in silence, but he does like hearing your voice before bed. It helps him sleep, and it somehow prevents nightmares of Blade. Quick note, your comfort and warmth make him feel safe through the night, and you accompany him when he'd usually be alone, either on his phone or reading a book.

PS: Dan Heng prefers to sleep in your room and/or in a hotel room because your bed and the hotel's provided beds are much more comfortable than a sleeping bag. He loves wrapping a blanket around the two of you and holding you like that. He says it's so you both get an even amount of warmth, and neither of you takes more of the blanket than the other, but he really does it because he feels a bit closer to you.

In his Imbibitor Lunae form, sleeping with him gets a bit harder, simply because he finds it harder to control himself. But when he can control himself, he'll let you run your fingers through his long hair, maybe even letting you touch his horns. Still, he doesn't allow the latter too often for reasons left unsaid. Anyway, he dislikes using this form because of how it reminds him of his former's past. He feels as though he's trapped in the memories and sin that are not his own. Yet, you make him feel comfortable in his own skin. He feels free with you; he feels alive, and he loves you for your ability to make him feel that way. Dan Heng will do everything in his ability to make you feel the same way.

And he likely already has.

☆ argenti ☆

— The most proper and romantic. Compliments littered across your entire figure, his hand in yours kissing your knuckles constantly with the addition of the most rosey and romantic sweet nothings. Argenti is old-fashioned and the most romantic, as he believes that this is the only way to live for his adored Aeon. The most comment compliment you'd hear between kisses is, “you're the most exquisite person in my world,” and Argenti would always wink with his compliments. Sometimes, it's wonderful to be the subject of his rose-colored words, but other times, it gets old; you become slightly lovesick.

The solution to that is conversation while holding each other in bed, or perhaps it's simply ushering Argenti to cuddle with you beneath the stars at night. It's beautiful to see the galaxy in its brightest moments, hovering from the dark skies. Argenti would silently pray to his Aeon, thanking her profusely for letting him see this wonderful view in person.

Still. You are his lover, and sometimes the weight of fear and trauma gets to him. Argenti often looks to you to confide in, and usually, nights like these are rarely cuddle nights, but sometimes, when it gets bad, you'll hold him in the night while he talks about his past— the wars, the music, the old friends, the worries— and how terrifying it can be if he would succumb to the same fate as his once so honorable friend. In exchange for your comfort, he holds you close and vows to protect you in your dreams and from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep again.

Argenti prefers to cuddle in bed, during a picnic, or beneath the stars. He seldom makes exceptions for heavy PDA, but when it comes to cuddling in public, even if there are people around during the day or at night, if it's stargazing or a picnic, he doesn't care as much. He'll smile, his eyes set only on you, not the eyes that may linger on your cuddles.

He doesn't care enough to look at anyone else, not when the embodiment of beauty lays right by him.

☆ blade ☆

— He's cautious. Blade's name takes after his weapon, and though he himself is not a sword, he still worries that he'll hurt you through cuddles. Blade is marastruck, and if it starts to get to him, he's terrified that it'll strike you, too. He admires death and the concept of it, but for you to die and for him to live with that? Impossible.

Anyway, convincing him is still 100% doable. When you do cuddle with him, he holds you with hesitation and care. He doesn't show it, as he masks his emotions with lips pursed to a line, but he feels relief. He feels happy, even, but he can't really tell. The Mara has calmed, and he can catch a break from the trauma. Something worth noting: Blade's trauma might cause him to cling to you, holding you close for comfort and reassurance— but that's only when he finds himself to be desperate for your love and affection. It's the one thing that keeps him together; your smile alone can mend all of his wounds, physical or not.

That can happen at any time of the day, but he'll typically seek you out at night. Blade will— without a spoken word— hug you from behind with a sigh of relief, and he'll take you to the nearest spot with the most privacy, and he'll hold you tight once more without a sign of letting you go. He loves you, and without even saying that he does, you already have all the evidence you need to conclude that he does. Holding you feels like heaven, in Blade's eyes. Once he gets past his fears of hurting you, he'll wrap his arms around your waist, but if he cuddles with you from behind, he'll wrap his arms beneath your chest, all with a sigh of relief and the tiniest hint of a smile.

The two of you cuddling is cute, so cute that Silver Wolf just had to stream it and broadcast one of your cuddle sessions to all of the other Stellaron Hunters.

Of course, you and Blade will never cuddle near any of the Stellaron Hunters ever again after that.

#character x reader #genshin x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #xiao x reader #wriothesley x reader #lyney x reader #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #argenti x reader #blade x reader #genshin fic #hsr fic #honkai star rail fic #character x y/n #character x you #hcs #headcanons

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kavehayi · 24 days

Text

five more minutes

blade x gn!reader — tooth rotting fluff - short fic

author's note: sort of self indulgent LMAO i love blade, expect a bunch of blade content from me, yours truly - 💐

“bladie…i wanna go back to bed” you turned to him lazily, pajamas all messy and your hair an absolute disaster. of course, blade has always been the more quiet one between the both of you but he showed his affection in other ways. like right now, he looked at you, looked away and turned again to hold you close to him.

he was warm.

well, hes always warm but you dont really care, anything to help with the freezing temperature of the bedroom you're both in.

his warmth was one of the many things you loved about him, the first always being his eyes. dark pools with a slight hint of fire in them. dark navy hair with maroon tips. everything about him made you love him even more.

sunlight hit both of your faces as it invaded the room through the window, even with the blinds, the sun still deemed itself incredibly important.

“maybe we should get up..” you suggested.

blade spoke up in a raspy tone, “five more minutes..”

#hsr x reader #hsr fics #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fic #hsr blade #blade x reader #blade x y/n #fluff #hsr fluff #self indulgent #LMAO #made by 💐#🍰 fics

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nomazee · 26 days

Text

bite my tongue, chew on ice

true to your word, you take dan heng out for breakfast after he spends the night taking care of you. it would be nice if you weren't so distracted by the way he looks at you and the stirring in your stomach.

dan heng x gn reader — 1.4k — sequel to this fic, introspection, aggressive pining, sweet and sappy oh my god it's so sappy, reader is trailblazer and this is set somewhere vaguely in canon, just stupid and cute, lots of feelings and thoughts,,,

notes: i love you dan heng hsr,,, i will love you forever and ever dan heng hsr

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

You always make good on your promises. That’s the one thing you take pride in.

The morning after your drunken spree in Belobog, the memories of the night come flooding in, vivid enough to strip you of your remaining dignity (which isn’t much). You bore yourself to Dan Heng, sweaty and vomiting, and he’d seen more of you in one night than you ever planned on revealing to him.

Embarrassing, yes. But you promised to get him breakfast as payment, and you don’t take breakfast (or promises) lightly.

With minimal nagging, you manage to pry him out of his room, shutting down his remarks of it’s too early, I don’t need breakfast, are you sure you sobered up, do you need an antacid, do you even have money? in favor of linking your fingers with his and dragging him into the cool morning air of Belobog.

(His hand doesn’t pull away from yours. You could swear that he squeezes back, the jutting knuckles of his hands digging into yours as he tightens his grip when you stumble just a little bit on the pavement.)

When the both of you eventually get settled across from each other in a booth, a glass of water for each of you as you browse the menu, you notice the disgruntled expression on Dan Heng’s face. You can’t help but pry. It’s in your nature, whatever parts of it you have an inkling about, and with Dan Heng, your curiosity is always on high alert.

“What’s wrong? You look like you hate this,” you can’t help the way your anxieties seep into your words. You take a tentative sip of your water (no ice, lukewarm, gross), trying to cover up the sweatiness in your palms as you beg and pray that he won’t just stand up and leave and call this breakfast a mistake.

“No,” he says, a leading tone in his voice. His eyes trail along the unsteady movements of your hands, as your fingers go to tap against the smooth glass of your cup. “You just… beat me to it. I was supposed to check on you this morning and get you water. I didn't think you would be awake this early. I thought I had time.”

Your chest tightens and blooms and flourishes with fondness. It’s a feeling so intense that it leaves you dizzy, your gaze goes distant, your fingers stop thrumming against your cup and your other hand tightens into a fist in your lap. It’s an exercise in restraint, to stop yourself from reaching over and grabbing Dan Heng by the shoulders and shaking him around until you never have to feel this affection again. It’s addictive and beautiful and horrible.

Your lips part, wanting to say something but all of the vowels and consonants play dissonant keys on your tongue. Instead, you settle for a smile, bashful and fond, fond, fond of Dan Heng and that furrow between his brows when he thinks of what to say, the way he’s staring at your hand against your cup. You want to know what he’s thinking, to let your hand slide across the table, hold his forearm and feel the skin and the life underneath, have him do the same to you. The cancer of all worlds sits in your chest, but you hope he finds it to be kind and gentle, you hope he tames it into something good.

“Dan Heng,” you start, letting that sick sick affection seep into your voice like rainwater into the cracks of pavement, and you can’t get enough of the way his name sounds against your teeth. “You’re so stupid. And sweet,” you tell him, trying not to melt into the floor. “I didn't think you’d still try to take care of me in the morning. I assumed that watching me throw up everywhere kind of, um, turned you away.”

“You didn't throw up everywhere,” he corrects, because he’s stubborn and always tries to debate you on stupid things, “And it wasn’t that bad. It didn't bother me. It was just you. It… came naturally.”

And he can’t bear to look at you. He rips his eyes away from yours and you can see the way his face warms up, visibly red and blotchy on his cheeks and neck. Naturally. It comes naturally to him. The care, the hotel mouthwash, checking on you and making sure you laid on your side. He says it came naturally.

You feel sick, and in love, and isn’t that all just the same? The smile doesn’t leave your face, and your cheeks hurt and you fight off the urge to hide your face in your hands and run away like a baby. You’ll face your fears, damnit, even if your fears are just the beautiful man in front of you and the feelings blooming on the right side of your chest, just above your heart.

“This is me taking care of you, then,” you tell him, trying to get across some semblance of warmth in your tone, trying to get him to understand that none of this is a joke to you, it never has been. You feel choked up, words strumming against your vocal chords. Too many to use, never enough time to say anything. A glance to the side confirms that no waiters are coming to take your order, but the laminated menu in your hands became obsolete the moment you sat down and looked Dan Heng right in his pretty eyes.

“You never eat breakfast,” you continue, “I don’t think I’ve really seen you relax. You should try knitting.”

His expression only turns more bashful, if possible. His mouth twists into something displeased, but lightheartedly so. “I tried knitting.”

“No way.”

He covers his mouth with his hand, the warmth in his face only building as he struggles to meet your eyes. “It was just for a bit, and I was never good at it. After March joined, she kept making me try the same things as her. Knitting, cooking, sewing… she said that she thought it would help me figure myself out.”

“Oh my god, Dan Heng. She was so right.”

Dan Heng makes a discontent noise, something like a mindless murmur of annoyed words, but by the way his lips twitch, you can tell he’s a little bit amused. And so are you, because the image of Dan Heng sitting next to March 7th with a tangle of yarn in his lap is a little too hysterical.

He has this stupid smile on his face now, and you could almost call it lovesick, the way he keeps looking back at you with his hand still covering half his mouth, like he’s ashamed of the way he’s softening. You like him soft, you like him malleable, warm like this with the window next to you streaming pale yellow light onto the table and the crown of his head. A sick, sick, in-love part of you wants to squish him in your hands like a slime ball and toss him around the room and play catch with yourself. You mean this with love, of course.

“Dan Heng,” his name, again, falls off your tongue, “I’m not actually that hungry. Can we go back to the parlor car? And I’ll— I can cook you something. Whatever you want.”

He pauses, and you can see him flitting through potential responses. You’re half-expecting him to make some sarcastic quip, like You shouldn’t be anywhere near a kitchen or Any food that comes from your hands will probably be inedible or You have many skills, and cooking is not one of them. Instead, he looks at you, a contemplative look in his eyes. He’s thinking, and that’s always a dangerous thing.

“Yeah,” he finally answers, finally looking at you, finally holding your gaze with the same warmth spreading through your palms. You want— you need— you’re craving nothing more than your hands on his and his mouth against yours. He’d be an awful kisser, you’re sure, awkward and clumsy, but you’d be just the same.

“Can I—” you start, cutting yourself off but letting your awful lack of self-control take over. “Can I kiss you? Do you want that?”

And he’s too lovely, too stupid and funny and his face hasn’t cooled down for a moment and the sides of his neck are still flushed red. “Not here,” he tells you earnestly, and you see his hand twitch just a little bit against his face. “Once we get back, you— you can do that.”

It’s a promise, and Dan Heng is starting to get good at those.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

taglist: @tragedy-of-commons

(pssst!!! send me a msg or fill out the form in my navi to be added to the taglist!!!)

#dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fanfic #dan heng fluff #dan heng hsr x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #hsr x you #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x you #dan heng x you #dan heng fic #hsr fic #honkai star rail fic #im missing tags let me think (im the biggest tag spammer on earth)#dan heng #honkai star rail #trust that my 1k follower roman colosseum amphitheatre battle will be happening soon

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lunarsigh · 11 months

Text

the alchemy of desire

I had an idea, and then my brain spit out like twice as many words of it than I originally planned. So here. have a Star Rail fic?

~*~

Honkai Star Rail - Jing Yuan x female reader - aphrodisiac

~3k words, mature

warnings: drugs (and lack of consent for), a vague hint of imagined sexual consent issues.

It takes Jing Yuan an abnormally long time to realize he’s been drugged.

Of course, he knows the merchant making small talk with him is part of the coup conspiracy - it’s the whole reason he came to this otherwise mind-numbing event. But he didn’t expect her to be bold (or stealthy) enough to spike his drink. He’s off his game, which irritates him, in the back of his mind where the alchemical concoction hasn’t taken hold. The rest of him feels the warmth spreading through him, the pleasant haze of sexual desire starting to direct his bloodstream to southern climes, so to speak.

Well. So that’s her play. He almost laughs aloud as he realizes what he’s been dosed with. An aphrodisiac. How … droll.

He turns a lazy smile towards the woman in front of him. Her body language is all seduction - so, she intends to get the General in a compromising position and then … kill him? Blackmail him? Set up some scandalous scenario? There are many options, none of them particularly pleasant beyond the vague promise of an orgasm. Not that he had any intention of leaving with her, even if he hadn’t noticed the effect. But she may have had a slightly better chance of getting something out of this if it wasn’t for one variable.

You.

You’re in his line of sight; he’d positioned himself for that very reason, even before he took that ill-timed drink. You’re halfway across the room, making pleasant small talk with someone he half-recognizes, wearing a red dress that clings to your curves in ways that had already given him at least seven different creative and lewd thoughts this evening. You’ve been dodging his lazy attempts at flirting with you for months now; for a while, he thought you disapproved, but lately he’s become sure that you don’t actually think he’s serious. He knows he’ll break through eventually, but tonight, that dress has made it particularly difficult to wait for his prey to flinch. And now, the drug is encouraging the predator to the surface, filling his loins with heat as he sees you laugh at another man’s words, lean closer to make yourself heard over the music playing above.

The woman next to him is a sorry excuse for a hunter. She can’t even keep his attention with a drug and a set of very ample … assets.

The man you’re speaking with lays a hand on your arm, and something inside Jing Yuan snaps. The drug, he thinks, must be more powerful than he first thought. But even as that thought occurs, he is bidding farewell to the woman, over her protestations. He knows who she is, his people can find her later, he has no doubt about that. Right now, his body will only let him pursue one goal.

Your conversational partner sees him before you do, and to his credit, the man recognizes a superior predator immediately. He has backed away from you before Jing Yuan even stands beside him, which earns him some points for smarts. “I require your assistance,” he tells you, taking your now free arm and maneuvering you away without a second glance.

“What? What are you -“ Your voice is a soft hiss, and even that sound dances across his skin like an electric arc.

“I need help,” Jing Yuan murmurs softly. “I’m compromised.”

Whatever you see on his face ensures your immediate cooperation. He does feel a bit flush, now that he thinks about it. Perhaps the heat is beginning to show.

He leads you out the side door before stopping. Your immediate response is to stand in front of him and put your hands on his cheeks. “General, what happened to you?”

“That bad, hmmm?” His hands are covering yours before he can consider the movement. You’re beautiful under the moonlight. And he may have said that aloud, because you immediately widen your eyes and try to pull away from him. His hands curl around yours. “Apparently the drug is working faster than I thought.”

“Drug??” Your voice is a little too loud, and he squeezes your hands in response. “General, if you’re drugged, then we need to find -“

“I need to get back to the office,” he interrupts. “It’s the closest safe place, and I can call for backup from there.”

“But there must be a physician here!”

“We can call for one from the office. Help me,” he says. “You’re the only one I can trust here.”

It’s true, in the ways that matter. Despite the fact that he knows half of the party attendees, you are the only person he trusts to see him in a weakened state. That shrinking part of his mind that remains clear knows this is dangerous, that the heat inside of him wants you close because it wants to devour you, but he’s not a pup - he can maintain his self control. He has centuries of experience with it.

Your face softens at his words, and you tug him towards the street. He releases one of your hands, but does not let you remove the other from his grasp.

You ask him about the drug, and he answers honestly. Your offense on his behalf is pleasant. “We need to catch her!”

“I know who she is, and can find out where she lives very easily tomorrow,” Jing Yuan tells you. “She does not entirely realize that I know her game. She may suspect, and will probably panic tonight, but putting a face to the conspiracy will break it open for us.”

“But she tried to …” Your free hand waves uselessly in the air, before you land on, “assault you!”

“Do you think I would have been led astray, my sweet?”

“The fact that you’re calling me ‘my sweet’ tells me you’re drugged to the gills,” you mutter. “So maybe.”

He laughs. You’re adorable when you’re angry. And when you’re embarrassed. And this time, he’s pretty sure he didn’t say that aloud. But the drug is definitely proving to be stronger than he anticipated. He cannot take his eyes off of you. The way your glossy lips seem to glow in the moonlight, the slight movement of your chest underneath the silky dress, the way one strap seems to be on the verge of slipping down your bare shoulder - there’s a howling voice in his mind telling him to push you into a shadow and mark you, taste you, make you his. Or prove to you that you’re already his. That you’ll never be anyone else’s - certainly not that bland specimen you were speaking with at the party.

And that’s definitely not his own thoughts. Not … entirely. He has nothing against the perfectly pleasant seeming stranger, and you were probably just speaking about some trivial entertainment, basic party chatter. But merciful aeons, this drug is erasing his hard-won control at a rapid pace.

It’s good that they targeted him, he thinks faintly, trying to concentrate on the violation instead of you. Had they given this to a lesser person - one without his training, his experience, his sheer amount of patience - someone would be hurt by now. He needs to alert someone when he gets to the office. Call Fu Xuan, get her to organize a search party, make sure no one else at the event was affected …

… he needs to taste your fucking skin, it’s a hunger he has no words for. Needs your legs wrapped around his hips, needs to feel you bucking beneath him, begging, gasping -

“General? Jing Yuan?”

Your voice is, as usual, completely alluring, but it’s undercut with a concern that shakes him briefly back to true lucidity. You’ve stopped in the middle of the path, no more than a block away from the office. You step closer to him, still holding his hand, looking up at his face as if you’re searching for something - a sign that things will be okay. He can faintly smell your perfume on the night breeze, and may the Reignbow Arbiter help him, he’s going to devour you if you move even an inch closer.

“I need to get inside,” he says, voice hoarse. He lets go of your hand - he feels empty now, like he let a prize slip through his grasp, but the contact is more than he can stand right now.

He walks faster, and can hear your heels clacking on the stones behind him. You’ll keep up. He just can’t look back at you right now, not feeling like this.

If whoever made this poison doesn’t already work for the Alchemy Commission, he thinks, then they should - just as soon as their century-long prison sentence is complete.

Inside, he manages to steel himself long enough to place a call to one of the guards on duty, telling him to fetch the Vidyadhara healer immediately. But his biggest problem is still here - his own fault, he brought you here, he wanted your company. He should be keeping you safe, not putting you in danger. And this? This is danger. This is a darkened office, free of its usual flow of people, just you and him and this maddening desire that wants to claw through his skin and take you for its own.

“Leave now,” he says, as he hears your steps approach.

“Of course I’m not leaving!” you protest. “This drug is making you ill, if something were to happen to you …”

You trail off as Jing Yuan turns around to face you. When takes a step toward you, you take an automatic half-step back. Ah, so you recognize when you’re being hunted, in some way. Under normal circumstances, he’d rather see you fling yourself enthusiastically into his arms, but in this condition, he takes no small pleasure in the nerves you’re beginning to show. “Ill is not the word I’d use to describe the effect,” he says in a soft voice. He takes another step, but this time, you hold your place. Both parts of his mind are unreasonably proud of you for it.

He places a hand on your shoulder, over that flimsy strap that had caught his attention on the street. One tug, and it would be out of his way, and he’d be able to finally taste your sweet skin. Or tug far enough, and the whole dress would come falling away, and he could finally lift you up and spread your legs and feel your heat pressed against him. You would let him, he knows, he can see that spark of lust in your gaze, even as it flashed against nerves and concern. He could make you forget the rest. Forget everything except what his cock feels like inside of you.

…. And that’s why you have to get out of this office.

When he speaks again, his voice is so soft as to be nearly inaudible, if he weren’t two inches away from your face. He can feel your breath quicken against his cheek, see every tiny shudder you make - fear or desire? He’s pretty sure you don’t even know at this point. “Leave.”

The first second passes by without movement, and he’s rarely felt more conflicted than he does right now. But just as the drug is threatening to win the battle, you take a large step backward. “I’ll be - I’ll go find - someone better -“ And then you’re gone. You don’t flee, you make yourself walk with forced slowness, and he can see you trembling as you go.

When he can no longer see you through the door, he finally lets himself stagger backward, feeling behind him for a chair. Without somewhere to focus his hormonal rush, the physical sensations wash through his body. “Someone better,” he breathes. If you mean someone he’s less likely to maul, then yes, literally anyone would be better. But otherwise … there’s no one better than you. Not to him.

It would be rude to masturbate in his public office, he tells himself silently - not to mention that the little doctor would sooner stop his heart with a bolt of light than deal with any of that when she arrives. Best to suffer, he tells himself. It won’t last long.

Several days later, Jing Yuan is still at home all day, “recovering.” He may have started feeling perfectly healthy yesterday, but he so rarely gets a perfectly valid excuse to avoid the paperwork piling on his desk, he can’t bear to let it go to waste yet. The only down side is that he hasn’t seen you since that night. He spotted you hovering in the doorway as the healer and a couple of Cloud Knights tended to him, but you were gone before they helped him get back home. His sources tell him that you’ve been overworking yourself ever since, which really won’t do.

There’s only one answer - you’ll have to come to him. So he sends a note to the Seat of Divine Foresight, requesting your presence.

And right on schedule, he hears your voice in the foyer. He feels a smile spread across his face, but he doesn’t stand until you’ve entered his sitting room. He’s missed seeing your face - and your blush, now in evidence again as you realize he’s wearing only his lounging robe here. “You’re feeling better, then?” you ask.

“Entirely. But shhh,” he says with a wink, “I wouldn’t want to lose out on a couple more days of leisure.”

You roll your eyes, and he laughs. Good, he can see the tension you were holding in your shoulders fade away with the familiar banter. “I’m glad,” you say, after a moment. “That you’re better. I was scared the other night, I’ve never seen anything affect you like that.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been careless enough to let myself get poisoned.” He steps closer to you, searches your face. “But my question is … were you scared for me, or of me?”

Your eyes widen, and you look him directly in the eye. “I wasn’t scared of you, Jing Yuan. I trust you.”

“Good.” Another half step forward; at this point, you’re forced to crane your neck to meet his gaze. “Because you were trembling quite a bit that night. I had to wonder.”

You sigh, shifting your weight from one foot to another. “No you didn’t,” you say, still holding his gaze. “You’re well aware of why - why I reacted the way I did.”

“Am I?”

You flinch first - as always - and take a step backward before pacing to the other side of the room. “The conspirators are rounded up, mostly. There are a few stragglers, but we have the woman who dosed you, as well as the person who made the drug.”

“I know. You’ve spent a lot of hours on this over the last few days.” You’re tired, he can see that much on your face. “I’m told you’ve barely left the office.”

You shrug, still avoiding his gaze. “There’s a lot to do. We need to make sure they’re not able to pull any more tricks.”

“They won’t be.” He may not have been able to see to it himself, but that’s why he surrounds himself with all the best people he can find. Including you. “You’ve done well. But it’s time for you to rest.”

Now your gaze cuts back to him. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of simply declaring our own leisure time.”

“You do if I declare it.” He grins. “How about this - you are now officially assigned as my personal aide until I recover.”

“You just admitted you’ve already recovered?”

“Did I? I have no memory of that.” Jing Yuan holds a hand out to you. “Come, spend time with me.”

You look at his extended hand, and he can see your own hand flexing, as if it wants to move of its own volition. But you take a deep breath and remain still. “Jing Yuan. Please.”

The soft word makes something stutter in his chest. “What do you need from me?”

You cast your eyes to the floor again, as your lips turn upward in a sad smile. “Mercy. Please stop teasing.”

Ah. You’re still there, are you? “What do you think I’m teasing about?”

“And stop answering me with a question. Especially ones with obvious answers.” Your shoulders square, and you look up at him again. “You know I have … feelings. For you. I’m sure it’s been obvious since we first met. And the other night - Lan help me, but even as I was scared for you and sick that someone would do that to you, I was also …” You close your eyes for a brief moment, before opening them again. “Pleased. That you were paying that kind of attention to me. Even though I knew it wasn’t really you, or about me at all. And I still feel really awful about that.”

So that’s how it is, inside your head? He certainly has some work to do. “You have no reason to feel bad,” he says. Now he steps into your space, reaches over to cup your cheek. “It was me. It was about you. Let me be absolutely clear - you are the entire reason that things were not worse that night.”

“How so?” Your voice is little more than a whisper.

“Because you were all I could see. When the concoction kicked in, you caught my eye, and that woman didn’t have a chance of getting my attention.” He leans down, close enough that his breath plays across your face. “Because all it did was magnify desires that already existed. Desire for you.”

Dark pupils have started to take over your eyes; your mouth forms the shape of his name, but no sound comes out. That won’t do - there are few better sounds in his world right now than your voice saying his name. He’s going to have to figure out all the ways he can make you sound while saying it. “Stay with me,” he murmurs. “Let me show you some of the lovely images that tormented me that night. I think they’ll be quite pleasant for both of us.”

When you speak again, the words aren’t exactly what he was expecting. Your hands finally come up, fisting in the edges of his robe. “Jing Yuan. Are … are you wearing anything underneath this thing?”

Perhaps the smile that comes across his face is still the smile of a predator - that’s okay, as long as the prey is willing to be caught. “There’s really only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

#honkai star rail #honkai: star rail #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #star rail fic #honkai star rail fic #jing yuan fic #will this make it out into the tag world?#let's see

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 4 months

Text

angst? me? haha... 2.4k words of it actually c:

cw: slight sensory deprivation (blindfold/mention of going non-verbal)

you still remember the first time it happened. how could you forget? the sheer panic and rapid thoughts racing through your mind when the itch in your throat had produced a single, golden ginkgo leaf from your tongue.

in the stages of grief, it states there are five. you beg to differ since you spent so long staring at the yellow leaf in your palm for so long your eyes felt irritated from the lack of blinking. you couldn't just deny that something was so very wrong when the evidence had come out of you.

you didn't feel anger either. confusion, fear, the deepest pit you've ever experienced in your gut? that's what you felt, but not anger. this was something that was bound to happen one day if you lived long enough to see it, so it shouldn't anger you anyway. still, that doesn't mean that that stage was skipped.

no, jing yuan felt it for you.

jing yuan hated yaoshi, the adundance. he loathes them from the deepest, darkest and most tainted part of his soul. the loathing he felt no doubt could even be felt by the continuously passed on entity of his Lightning-Lord. it was a sick twist of fate that he had been with you when you coughed up that leaf, stood so closely within your personal proximity when your life started ticking away from him.

jing yuan was not a loud man when it came to his negative emotions. he- in fact- made a bad habit of keeping most of them internalized and kept solely to himself. may haps he would tell you or yanqing that which would plague him to the point of bursting- but those rare moments only happened well away from the public eye of the luofu residents. no, jing yuan is a man who radiates anger like a brewing lighting storm devoid of rain and thunder. it's quiet and heavy and skin crawling.

you were younger than him, you still had time to enjoy your long life before having to worry about the effects of mara. you should've still had time to enjoy your long life beside him.

"y/n," his voice calling you is breathless as he moves swiftly to stand in front of you. he takes your wrist gently- you can feel his fingers tremble ever so slightly- and he brushes that yellow leaf onto the ground under his boot. "let me see," he says. finally registering back into reality, you lift your chin and he's immediately searching your face and eyes for any signs of... just something.

maybe he was looking for something that was invisible. a way to prove that what just happened before his very eyes was a trick of some sort- maybe a sick prank you'd be begging him to forgive you for later. or maybe he had already reached a state of dreary understanding and was searching for a timeline of how much time you have left.

"jing yuan," you softly call, and he flinches when he hears the drag of your voice that indicates your painful coughs from a moment ago. "it..." you take a deep breath, "it's going to be fine. let's just go to lady bailu and-"

"no," he quickly shoots down before his brain could think otherwise. his outburst startled you both, and if it weren't for such a dire situation, his wide eyes that quickly scrunched closed may have been cute in a way. "no, just- nevermind." he lets out a deep sigh. "we should go see the dragon lady, you're right. and i-" should contact the ten-lords commission. but he doesn't want to. if he does, then you'll be taken from him and imprisoned with every other marastruck xianzhou native they've taken under his order.

his hands that were wrapped around your wrists grow slack and you easily slip free from his grasp. dropping one hand, the other raises to brush back the wild, white treses that always cover his right eye.

"we'll start with lady bailu, okay?" he just nods, not able to formulate words anymore. he had a letter sent to the alchemy commission announcing his visit along with you for the following day, giving him some time to compose himself. a single day would do you no harm after all.

"is there still nothing that can be done?" jing yuan knew the answer already. of course, there wasn't. there hadn't been for as long as he's been general- which was longer than most of his predecessors. the best 'solution' he had at this point was the small gourd gripped tightly in his fist. this had been his second time back to the alchemy commission, the first time had been with you but now he stands here alone.

"you know as well as i do," bailu's voice spoke as she stood in front of him with her hands on his hips, "this is the most advanced treatment i have. the alchemy commission is still no closer to finding a real cure, so please make do with this for now."

"i understand," there was no point in trying to converse longer. the longer he spent here the longer you waited for him back at home. he had contacted bailu with means on the downlow and had even attempted to keep who the afflicted person was if word did spread.

of course, that didn't work out like he wanted and just by his mannerisms alone, the young high elder knew it was you. she had never seen the luofu's general so disheveled before- normally able to keep a better lid on his emotions.

"you have my gratitude," he said before dismissing himself.

this small gourd could last a patient anywhere between a few days, a few weeks or at worst a few hours. your mara hasn't been active for long, just a day or two before jing yuan could get his hands on the elixir she uses for the marastruck soldiers she comes across.

"only administrator one ochoko of elixir a day! no matter how bad it gets, you cannot exceed that amount!" were bailu's specific instructions. he dares not go against them. at the very most he could stretch the treatment up to around 40 days if he was lucky.

and then there was the probability of you losing your mind quicker than he could treat you. so, he took another precaution.

when jing yuan returned back home, back to you, he had found you sitting on the wooden veranda surrounding the house. the breeze was something you always enjoyed. your head was angled up towards the sky, but you saw nothing behind the blindfold covering your eyes.

sensory deprivation. in cases of mara, cutting off senses of the body can slow the spread of it. surely with this and the dragon lady's elixir...

"y/n," he calls and you swivel your head towards his voice with a smile. one that was so innocent and warm he wished he could see your eyes.

"welcome back," you greet him as he pads softly over to you. running the pads of his finger across the skin just below your blindfold, his chest tightens. its not fair.

"i'm home." jing yuan is glad you cannot see his frown.

the time it took for the alchemy commission to finally find out jing yuan had been seeking bailu's guidance for a marastruck xianzhou native was more than his pessimism expected, but less than his desired yearned. he was cornered at the seat of divine foresight, surrounded by alchemy commission enforcers and yanqing who had been privy to the secret considering he lived with the general and you.

the general sat at his desk, his fingers weaved together and propped up by his elbows. his forehead lowered and resting on the backs of his hands with his scrunched-up expression hidden under his white mane of hair that had been tied up messier than usual- if one could believe it with the nest of hair he normally had.

hearing the underlings of bailu chew his ears off, he could only catch a glance of yanqing at his side. arms locked at his sides with his fists clenched- jing yuan could only imagine the face he was making.

"y/n must be apprehended and relocated to the shackling prison, general. you're aware of this."

"all too well," he whispers to himself, but with the heavy quiet everyone can hear him. "yanqing," he calls without lifting his head.

"general?" the general had never heard the boy so soft spoken before. all his bravado seems to have shrunk.

"i will be contacting the ten lords commission," he swallows. "please make preperation for it."

"yes, general." the painful swallow in the young boy's voice was enough to tell jing yuan that he understood.

'go spend time with y/n before they're gone.' that was what jing yuan really said.

soon, jing yuan's office was clear of all guests and he finally lifted his head and leaned himself back in his chair. letting out a breath, he knew it was coming. you had been coughing up more leaves than he had expected and despite everything he tried, the affliction was ruthless.

it wasn't fair.

the next day, jing yuan had decided to do one finally task. for himself and for you. instead of waiting for the ten lords commission to come knocking at his doorstep, he was going to take one last final measure. even if it changes nothing and you're still taken away from him- perhaps it could extend your sanity just a little while longer. that alone would give jing yuan the smallest peace of mind.

your body had been getting weaker, and patches of yellow gingko shaped markings had spotted all over your body. jing yuan had to practically carry you all the way to the divination commission to meet with fu xuan.

"general," fu xuan's soft voice speaks as he undoes your blindfold but softly instructs that you keep your eyes closed for him. "are you sure you want to do this?"

"i've made my decision."

replacing your blindfold, the general places his palm across the span of your eyes. your hand reaches up to gently rest on his wrist and he can see the cursed yellow blotting you under your sleeves meant to keep it hidden. he grimaces.

"you're taking my memories... aren't you?" your voice had gone scratchy and distorted a few days ago, so you had refrained from speaking. another pointless suppression tactic.

"yes, my dear," he brings you down to your knees beneath the matrix that was ever turning. he kneels with you, keeping his hand over your eyes. "i am."

"yanqing?"

"he knows. i... i asked him not to come." he didn't want you to look that boy in the face and not know who he was. "after this, you'll be taken to the shackling prison." jing yuan closes his eyes and lets out a heavy breath. "i'm so sorry."

"i know." your gentle grasp on his wrist tightened and he wishes you'd rip off his gauntlet and embed your nails into his skin just so he'd have something left of you after the day's end. "it'll all be okay."

"no," he refutes, "it wont."

"general," fu xuan wistfully calls. "the ten lords commission will be coming shortly. if you're sure about this, then we must act quickly." the general nods, lifting off his knee to lean and push his forehead against yours one last time. his bangs still tickle your face, and his skin is warm. the way he smells of tea and the elixir you had been taking envelops you and you feel oddly at peace.

the next and last time jing yuan see's your eyes, they're stripped of everything he ever memorized about them. and you didn't recognize him.

the buzz about the general losing you was all hush, like a ripple that kept coming into contact with him. you were gone, taken away from him and all he wanted to do was find a way to get past it. get over it. accept it. but all the outside noise just kept reminding him about how much it hurt.

the buzz turned into murmurs, turned into static and as the days past public life returned to normalcy on the luofu. now, as welt, march and the trailblazer all walk around the divination commission they pass by a small jade plaque that had been placed there several years ago. it looked well-kept and there was a name inscribed on it.

"so, was this y/n person important or something?" march asks, unaware of the intensity that question could hold for some. fu xuan looks at the plaque that used to sit comfortably at the seat of divine foresight before it was moved.

"they were. a very important person who meant a lot to all of us on the luofu."

"did they...?" march's voice was sad, and welt tries to keep her from asking anything more. the plaque was obviously a memorial.

"they were stricken with mara a long time ago." fu xuan takes a deep breath and turns to the curious girl. "i'll be happy to answer any questions you have about them, but you must not bring the subject up to the general under any circumstances."

"the general? but why not?"

fu xuan's face falls and his lips curl over her teeth in a small frown that was biting back too many things she need not disclose to outsides ears.

"it would be pointless." was all she replies.

fu xuan looks longingly at the matrix and can picture the face of the general who had completely recovered from the loss of his partner. the general who will gaze out over his desk at the large star chess board in his office. the general who still entertains his young retainer in both combat training and chess games. the general who still had a bad habit of dozing off and slipping away from his seat and paperwork.

the general who doesn't remember he was ever in love to begin with.

sometimes, the general of the xianziou luofu finds himself starting out into empty space. the words 'it isn't fair' repeating in his subconscious bring a pain to him. he doesn't know what they mean. what wasn't fair? all he can do to shake the feeling and words is resume meditating.

jing yuan didn't know why he meditated. but he did know that he didn't want to remember why it hurts.

#honkai star rail #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan angst #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #honkai star rail jing yuan #honkai star rail jing yuan angst #honkai star rail angst #jing yuan x reader angst #jing yuan x y/n angst #jing yuan x you angst #honkai star rail fic #jing yuan #hsr #it got kinda messy towards the end there #whoopies

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