shroomi1e

[shroomi1e]

the kings love

the king broke your heart. he is now on his knees, at your mercy.

content: NSFW + a welt yang royal au + fem!reader + reader is a queen + implied arranged marriage + groveling + angst + betrayal + talks about trauma (very short) + scenes with food + kissing + dry humping + breeding kink + talks of an heir + very slight creampie (implied) + non sexual nudity + also sexual nudity + implied obsessive behaviour + perverse thoughts + blade and his duchess makes their cameos + fluff at the end + happy ending!

word count: 14k (i got lost my bad)

—

“Her Majesty The Queen.”

Welt’s head perks up from his paperwork on his table as he hears the announcement of your arrival.

As he sees you, he feels his heart flutter at just the sight of you. His eyes wander down to the beautiful gown that hugs your body perfectly, fitting you like the true queen you are. Then his eyes trail up to your pretty face. You’re beautiful as usual. There’s a slight smile on your face as you approach him.

“Are you ready, my dear?” You ask gently. Welt swears this gentle voice of yours was real and not an act, then he sees how your hands are formed into fists on the table. Welt felt his heart sink and he nodded.

“Of course, my love.” Welt replies. The servant, as if on cue seeing the lovely act of his king and queen, decides to leave you two alone.

Hearing the door close and it’s only the two of you, you back away from Welt and drop your smile.

“I’m sorry.” You hear Welt say and you can’t help the slight dry chuckle escaping your mouth. Ignoring his words, you place a brooch on his table.

“Wear this brooch, it symbolises our unity through our marriage and for the kingdom.” Hearing the words slip past your mouth, Welt feels his heart sink even deeper and he regrets what he did to you a lot.

“Of course.” He softly says as he takes the brooch. As if he suddenly lost all knowledge on how to pin the brooch on him. Just a moment later, he feels your hands on top of his chest. Soft and gentle to the touch, you help him pin the brooch on the front of his suit.

Welt can’t help but let his hands wander and softly place them on your waist. He hears your breath hitch and you softly shake your head.

“I don’t need this from you right now, your majesty.” You try to remove his hands from your waist but it’s to no avail. You lightly bite down on your lower lip in frustration. Why does he have to be so strong?

“Will you look at me?” You keep looking at the front of his chest. “Please?” His voice was almost wavering and you slightly shook your head.

“I don’t want to.” At your words, you feel how Welt presses your body into his chest even closer. “Why not?”

“Don’t force me to do this. You have no right, especially after what you did.” You harshly tell him, holding back tears.

No matter what you say, you can’t deny the fact you enjoy his touch on you. His hand on your waist feels good and the heat from his close proximity raises a certain warmth in you, you almost don’t wanna leave his hold on you.

“I’m sorry, I truly am.” Welt sounds genuinely apologetic but the betrayal from what he did hurts deeper.

“Let me go.” And he does. And you miss his touch but you can’t go back.

—

As you get back to your suite from your royal duties, you see an envelope on your dresser. It reminds you of the times you thought Welt sent letters. The front of the envelope has your name on it and when you turn the envelope you see the familiar stamp on it. And you immediately place the envelope away in your drawers.

You have no idea what Welt would do if he saw you put his letter to you aside. Thank the aeons we’re not sharing a bedroom, you think to yourself as you sit on the chair in front of your dresser.

As if subconsciously, your hand reaches out to the drawer with the envelope in it. Something in you wants to read it, but the other something tells you it’s the same thing again. A letter written by someone else pretending to be the king, your husband.

And you let your hold on the drawer go as soon as your maids enter the room to tend to you.

—

Welt can’t stop looking at you. You look beautiful. Your smile lights up the entire kingdom and its people. The way you greet them so gently and as if they all are familiar to you. And the way you give each and one of them a smile. Welt can’t help the thought that escapes from him wishing your smile was all his. He wants you and he’s too late. Or maybe he isn’t.

And when he sees you look at him, your eyes are shining and face covered in happiness, his heart flutters. He can’t help what he did just now.

He gently takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles. You look at him surprised when there’s rows of awe’s going off behind you. And little did Welt know, his little gesture made your own heart flutter.

And hours after that, you hastily walk away from him while taking your gloves off. You hear Welt call for you from behind you but you don’t quit your steps away from him. At this moment, you really truly wanted the guards at your floor, which you share with said man running after from behind you.

“Wait!” He manages to catch up. “Please.” And he grabs your hand and pulls you to a stop. As he does that, you catch a whiff of his scent and you almost want to take another one. As you look up at Welt, you see how he’s doing the same thing but he’s not hiding it.

He subtly gets closer to you, his hand wrapped around your wrist. You feel his thumb gently stroke your skin and you subtly grit your teeth and try to pull away from his hold, but it’s to no avail.

“Stop grabbing me like that!” You try to shake off his hold once more but it doesn’t work at all. “It’s not my fault I have to do this to force you to be with me.” At his words, a dry chuckle leaves your mouth and Welt immediately regrets his words.

“Aren’t you a little too late with that?” The way your eyes turned cold as you looked at him, Welt felt his blood run cold. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t do what you did and your apologies would have been nonexistent, your majesty.” You spit out and Welt feels his heart sink, though your eyes are glaring at him, he can still see the tears you’re holding back.

“I’m truly sorry. I regret what I did. You don’t deserve that.”

“Of course I didn’t. I didn’t deserve to be roped into an arranged marriage with you either, who was known to be a king who refused to marry.” And Welt flinched at your words, though you’re right, your words hurt. Welt can’t help but look down and he sees how he’s still holding you by the wrist. He lets you go and somehow, he feels slightly happy you didn’t leave him when he dropped his hold on you.

“You should’ve been known for playing with the heart of someone who loves you.” And he looks at you. And there’s tears streaming down your face and you chuckle as you wipe them away. His heart sinks even more at your tears though he can’t forget the words you just uttered. Though what you said next was an arrow to his heart.

“I feel sick for still loving you. Even though you hurt me so much, I can’t help but still love you. No matter what you did, that doesn’t remove from the fact you are a good man but you are not one to me. Not at that time and not now either.”

—

A little more than a year ago

You are nervous. Very nervous. But you shouldn’t be. But you are. You are to be married to the King of Astral who has a reputation of not marrying at all. What if he refuses you when he sees you. You subconsciously scratch your fingernails when the doors open and a handsome man emerges.

A handsome man adorned in finest silks, with a graceful walk and such aura to him. You would’ve thought it was someone else if not for the crown on his head and the pin on his right chest.

Welt Yang. King of Astral.

Your eyes widened, he’s truly handsome and you swear you felt your heart skip a beat by just his appearance. But when he talks, your eyes almost pop out. Not only is his face and entire body handsome, his voice is as well.

How you managed to curtsy to him and introduce yourself is a wonder to you. Though when you looked down at the floor, you could feel a pair of brown eyes on you. And when you looked up, your eyes were locked at each other and you saw a tint of a red hue on his cheeks and you felt your heart swoon.

The King of Astral is adorable as well.

Days and weeks after that, you have been in the company of Welt multiple times. Your father called it ‘get to know each other’, though you objected at the time your heart still fluttered.

“So, your majesty-“

“Welt.” Said man cuts you off and you look at him confused. “Call me Welt.”

And so you did.

Then came the day of your days as engaged and you swore this man had your heart in his calloused palms. He made you smile, laugh at his dry jokes and you enjoyed being with him so much, you anticipated meeting him every single day. Little did you know of what is soon upon you.

Weeks of being engaged, each and every day, you received a handwritten letter from Welt. Telling you of his days, how much he misses being in your presence and discussing every single topic with you. And since you’re helping with planning the wedding, he adds in a few suggestions here and there which make you smile. And every time you receive his letters, you write him equally as many back.

Then came the wretched day.

You had decided to give him your letter in person. As you stood outside the doors of his office, the guard outside the door bows to you and was about to open it and announce your arrival, when you grabbed his shoulder and shook your head.

“Mind if I go in there by myself? I don’t wanna disturb the king with his duties.” You kindly request, the guard looked flustered at what he is supposed to do but since you’re the soon to be queen of the kingdom he’s serving, he saw no point in refusing your simple request. You thank him profusely before quietly opening the huge door. You were eternally grateful at that moment when the door didn’t make a loud sound.

“I’ve sent the letter you requested, your majesty.” You hear a familiar feminine voice. It’s his Secretary, Himeko. About to speak up, you hear Welt’s next words.

“Did you write how I would, Himeko?” Welt asked and Himeko said yes.

What are they talking about and why do you feel nervous?

“Splendid. The princess is quite smart, if she picks up on the fact that I didn’t write the letters, it’d be quite troublesome as we are gonna get wed tomorrow.” Hearing what you did, you felt rage surge up inside you. Not just rage, but betrayal and despair.

Have you written to Himeko this whole time, thinking it was the king? The lovely words you read and received were all written by the king's secretary.

Welt was about to speak up when he saw you appear from behind Himeko. Your brows are furrowed and your steps are in haste as you reach him. And he sees a letter in your hand before it’s harshly placed down on his table right in front of him.

“What is the meaning of-“ and a sound emerged in the office of the King of Astral.

Welt looked sideways, his eyes widened as he held his cheek and Himeko looked terrified. You had just struck the king. And when he looks at you, there’s tears falling down your face and something stings in Welts heart.

When you hear him call you by your name, your heart aches.

“I really thought you were a good man, your majesty. I truly believed you liked me and enjoyed our time together. If you really didn’t want to do this and had to resort to having your Secretary write your love letters to me, you should’ve just refused to marry me.” And you left the room and the room has never been quieter.

And after that day, the letters stopped coming. But the man who was the object of your anger and the cause of your heartache, never stopped coming to you.

Every day he apologized. There wasn’t a time where you didn’t hear an apology from him. Even during your wedding party, even though he didn’t say it during your first dance as a wedded couple, you saw it in his eyes. You felt it in his touches at public events and in the gifts he gave you. Personally.

And everytime you refused.

—

Welt sits back in his seat in his office, looking up at the ceiling. He feels numb but most of all, regret. His heart ached the first day he saw your tears and he was the reason for that. And today you cried once more and he was once more the cause of your tears. Seeing you in that state two times, each time his fingers itches to wipe your tears away and beg on his knees for you and apologise, over and over.

Every day Welt berates himself for hurting you like that. And ever since that day, he’s read the letters you wrote when you two were engaged. And every time it doesn’t fail to bring tears to him when he sees how much of your love for him you poured into those letters. All while thinking they’d go to him and every letter you’d get back, you thought it was from him.

Oh how he wishes to undone his actions and never hurt you like that.

He picks out a key from his front pocket and unlocks the drawer. Stacks of letters, in worn out shape, with your handwriting. Addressing every one of them to him.

And he reads them all over again for the umpteenth time.

—

“He reads your letters every night, my queen.”

You hear Himeko say from behind you on one of your walks, which you wanted to take alone but she decided to join. You scoff at her words

“It’s as if I’m dead, well I’m not and he can go burn these aeon awful letters.” You retort back and you hear Himeko sigh from behind you.

“He said it was a royal order.” Himeko speaks up and you quit your steps to turn around to look at her.

“Yet you didn’t have the ounce of decency to let me know. You knew how much this would hurt me.” Himeko winces slightly as she nods her head. “I confided in you, I’ve talked about him to you. I thought we were friends yet you were along in this betrayal as well. Silly isn’t it.” You dryly laugh before continuing to walk.

“I’m dearly sorry.”

“I’m sure you are.”

And you know she is. You can’t fault her for following a royal order. Royal orders are most important and secretive, they’re to be carried out no matter what. Though it hurts you to speak to your friend like that, deep down you’ve already forgiven her.

When you arrive at your bedchamber, there's a letter on your dresser and you see how there’s no stamp or anything whatsoever to tell who it’s from. There’s only your name on it.

Unfolding the letter, you see the familiar handwriting and put it away.

—

Welt sits at the tiny table. Candles are lit and there’s warm food on the table. But you’re not here.

And it’s been hours.

And every day he does this. Send you a letter, asking you to dine with him and each time you don’t come. Welt can’t fault you for that.

He smiles to himself sadly as he sees the empty seat in front of him, wishing you were sat there.

—

“My queen, the kings been waiting for you for half a dozen hours now.” At your lady maids words, you hastily turn your head. He’s waited six hours for you to come join him for dinner?

Your heart winces. Maybe he doesn’t deserve sitting alone for six hours while the food gets all cold. You grab your night robe and stand up from your chaise.

You arrive at the room he set up for dinner, gently opening the door. You see Welt sat alone. All while he’s holding onto what you assume is letters. And he’s reading it over and over. You see him softly brushing his fingertips over the words before leaning the letter closer to his face and he inhales the scent. And that’s when you see your own stamp on top of the letter. You remember how you sprayed these letters with your personal and favorite scent.

“Are you not going to eat?” And Welt’s head perks up so fast, you’d think it would fly off his neck. You can’t help the thought of thinking he’s cute. But desperate. Maybe it’s good he’s desperate.

“You’re here.” He breathes out as he stands up, approaching you.

“My lady maid told me you’ve been waiting for six hours. The food has already gone cold, your majesty. I think you should eat.” You tell him as he stands in front of you.

“Not without you, no.” He softly says and your eyes softly widened before shaking your head.

“So you’re gonna starve yourself unless I’m dining with you?” You lightly tease and you see how Welt’s eyes shone in delight at your simple teasing remark.

“Maybe.” He mumbles. You walk past him to the table. About to pull the chair out, Welt beats you to it. He slides in the chair for you as you sit down. You gently thank him before looking at the food on the table. And your eyes properly widened in surprise.

These all are your favorite foods. Even the drink on the table is your most favorite and you look up at Welt. And all he does is show you a gentle smile and your heart winces.

“I got you your favorite dessert as well, but maybe you’d like to eat that after the meal?” He asks and you look at him for a few seconds before slightly nodding your head. And he flashes you a happy grin.

“The food is cold, I can ask the servant to heat it up-“

“It’s alright, it’s pretty late and they all most likely wanna go to sleep now.” You say as you pick up the cutlery and cut into the food.

To say the dinner was good was an understatement, though you hesitated being alone with Welt after how much he hurt you, you can’t deny the fact that you enjoy his presence. He keeps asking your thoughts on diplomatic issues and news, your thoughts on how to better things for the people and of course, questions about you. Though your heart fluttered at his attentiveness on you, you were still hesitant. But you answered nonetheless.

Then he brought out the dessert and you see how there’s only one plate of it. And it’s for you. You look at Welt confused but he just smiles at you.

“I made this for you.” You get confused at his words before realizing what he meant.

“You mean, you made this cake from scratch?” You ask and he nods his head. As he does that, you see how the red tint on his cheeks and the candlelight seems to be showcasing that so well, he looks so handsome while blushing.

“I didn’t know you enjoyed baking.” You mumble as you pick up the dessert spoon and cut into the cake.

“I’ve been learning how to bake for a while now, this is the only one that turned out well and didn’t burn.” He tells you and you giggle, missing the way Welt’s eyes softened and the way they glanced down at your mouth.

Welt felt nervous seeing you get a piece of the cake and put the piece in your mouth. What if it doesn’t taste good? What if it isn’t how you like it? If it isn’t, he’d make more and more till it’s exactly how you like it.

“It’s good.” You simply say as you take another bite, refusing to meet his eyes. Feeling shy for complimenting him. You hear Welt sigh in relief then he sees you push the plate of cake towards him.

“Try it. A chef should always taste his own food. But in this case, the baker should taste his desserts.” You chime up softly and Welt grins at you.

As he takes a bite, instead of focusing on the taste itself, he realizes it’s the same spoon you ate with. Is this what an indirect kiss is? He thanked whoever he learned his phrase from in his head before looking at you.

“It’s good.” He nods his head and you lightly smile at him.

And the dinner was over like that. All that was left was the silence in the room and just you two looking at each other. You were about to stand up and excuse yourself when Welt got up from his seat and kneeled in front of you. It went by so fast, you couldn’t process everything at once.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he kneels and looks up at you. He grabs your hands that were on your lap and takes them in his larger one. He holds onto your fingers gently.

“I want you to know I’m sorry.” He mumbles. Your heart beats faster when you see him place your knuckles on his forehead.

“Did you make this dinner to have me forgive you just like that?” And he shakes his head.

“This dinner was to be with you. This dinner was so I could dine with my wife and have her eat the food and dessert she likes.” He tells you with such a clear voice as he kisses each one of your fingertips and you feel flutters in your body before you pull away your hands and stand up.

Welt looks up at you from where he's kneeling. You look down at him when you feel him gently stroke your wrist with his fingers before he places his hands on your waist and makes your abdomen face his way, before he leans in and nuzzles his face there.

“Stop.” You whisper out as you hold onto his head but you don’t even push him away, you’re just holding onto his hair. You can hear him inhale your scent by your abdomen before nuzzling even further.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I think about you day and night. I read all your letters before going to sleep. You’re in my dreams every night, my love.” He continues on as you plead for him to stop but he doesn’t.

“I will be on my knees, apologizing for hurting you the way I did. If it takes me ten years or more, it doesn’t matter how long. I will do anything it takes to make you smile, have you laugh at my dreadful jokes just so I can hear your lovely laughter again. Just so I can have you looking at me and have you see how much I cherish you and love you. Because I do.” At some point when he was uttering these words, you felt your nightgown get wet from where Welt was burying his face on your abdomen.

“I love you.” He looks up and his face is stricken with tears. And you shake your head before pushing him away. “I love you.” He says as he tugs on the ends of your nightgown.

“No you don’t, this is all to make yourself feel better and have me forgive you like you didn’t do anything hurtful to me.” Welt shakes his head, before he could speak you walk away, not being able to handle being alone with him anymore.

You left him alone in the room, on his knees as tears fell down his face. Leaving him with all regret and pain in the world.

—

“Your Majesty, you have been summoned to the council.” Your lady maid announces. You look up from the book you were reading.

“Has something happened?” You ask as you put away the book. Your lady maid looks down on the floor but you don’t miss the way she’s blushing.

“Are you alright?” You ask as you check her forehead and she nods her head. You look at her confused, she’s never acted this way so you can’t question any further since it’s the council summoning you.

“Is the king there?” You ask as you two walk towards the council room. “Yes, my queen.” She answers and you nod your head. Nervous to meet him after what happened days ago. Ever since the dinner night, you haven’t been in close proximity with Welt or alone with him at all. But he never stopped sending you letters.

“Her Majesty, The Queen.”

You enter the room and see all the ministers of the council sitting around the oval table, with the king seated as well. They all stand up as you enter the room, bowing in respect to you. The king however approaches you and you gently accept his offer of taking your hand in his. You sit down on your seat beside him.

“Is something the matter to have the both of us in the council room?” You ask and all the ministers look amongst themselves before looking down. As your lady maid did, they all are blushing but not as much as your lady maid did.

“Is everyone sick?” You innocently ask, not knowing what’s gonna come upon you soon enough.

“My love.” You hear Welt say from beside you. As if on reflex, you turn your head as he calls for you and your eyes widens when you see a red tint on his cheeks. Why’s everyone blushing?

“My queen, there’s been…words going around about a certain topic.” One of the ministers starts off before he coughs before he can continue.

“What word?” You ask and everyone stays quiet before one of the ministers, Dangheng, speaks up.

“There’s been talks of an heir, your majesty.” Dangheng says and you are still confused. “And what is that supposed to entail?” You ask once more.

“Talks of you two still not having an heir, despite being married for more than a year.” Your eyes widen.

“The people want a princess or a prince to welcome to the Kingdom of Astral.” Dangheng finishes and your eyes are still wide open as you clench onto your hands. You did not expect to be summoned for this.

“I think us having an heir is out of question for the moment, as we still want to enjoy our life as two a little more.” Welt speaks up, sensing your surprise and discomfort. Though it wasn’t discomfort, it was nervousness you felt.

Having an heir means you need to get intimate with Welt. You didn’t consummate your marriage on your wedding night. Though nobody knows of that, you understand why the people are talking about an heir to the kingdom.

Then you remember Welt’s words of you two wanting to enjoy your life as just you two. You look away from the ministers to look at Welt. When you see his pair of brown eyes land upon you, your heart flutters so you hastily look away. That moment didn’t go unnoticed by the ministers on the table.

“So me and the ministers at this table have been talking about sending your majesties together to the country and have you two talk it over there.”

—

And here we are.

You climb down from the carriage with the help of the footman. Thanking him gently as you look at the huge mansion in front of you. It’s stunning, especially in the sunlight. There’s a fountain in the middle to the entry and flower bushes adorning the entire front entry of the mansion.

“It’s quite lovely isn’t it?” You hear Welt from beside you and you nod your head. The mansion is very lovely.

As you settle in with the servants packing your suitcases. You decide to take a walk around the mansion. You managed to sneak away from your bodyguard, though you felt bad, you needed some alone time after riding in the carriage the whole day with Welt.

The more you walk, the more you find yourself further away from the mansion. Though it can be seen with its sky high towers, you know you’re far away from it by an hour.

Then you stumble upon a lake with another mansion. The lake was behind it and it was lovely as well. There’s lotus flowers and you get down on your knees, admiring the flower when you hear steps from behind you.

A lady dressed in fine clothing, with a tall man with dark hair beside her. When these two see you kneeled by the lake, they walk towards you.

About to ask who you are, their eyes land on the pin on the right side of your chest and see how familiar you are. It was your royal queen pin. And both of them bow in unison.

“Your Majesty.” They say as you feel embarrassed to have stumbled upon them like this. You didn’t quite expect to meet the Duke of Stellaron and the duchess like this.

“Please, no need for pleasantries. I’m sorry to have stumbled upon your humble abode like this.” You feel truly embarrassed. The Duchess of Stellaron speaks up.

“No need, you are welcome here anytime. We’re the one sorry for not welcoming your majesty’s presence here properly.”

So the married couple of Stellaron takes you on a tour of their mansion. Yingxing, a quiet man of few words, seems to be speaking more with his wife than he does with anyone else. Though he looks stoic, one doesn’t miss the love in his eyes as he looks at his wife. And your heart aches. Your mind automatically goes to the king you left at the mansion.

“Your majesty, if I may ask, what took you this far from the royal mansion?” The duchess asks and you sheepishly chuckle. “Needed some alone time, so I may or may not have run away for just a few hours.” And the duchess giggles.

“I quite understand that husbands can be a little unbearable. This one never leaves my side if he isn’t working.” The Lady of Stellaron says as she pats her husband's chest while grinning ear to ear. The duke who seemed to have gained some red color to his cheeks, stayed quiet.

Then you hear some running from behind you, the duke stands in a defensive mode, grabbing his sword but relaxes when he recognizes the royal soldier insignia on the soldier running towards them.

“Your Majesty!” The soldier pants as he bows before looking up.

“Easy there, breathe now.” You gently tell the soldier and he nods his head. “Your Majesty, the king is looking for you.” The soldier says and you feel quite bad. You did just run away without telling anybody.

“Is he worried?” You ask and the soldier nods his head. “I think the king almost thought he lost you.” And you turned quiet. You see how the duchess smiles at her husband before looking at you.

“I think I need to cut short my walk with you two. I had a lovely time. Thank you.” You tell them sincerely.

“We are most honored to have the queen with us, we’d be most delighted if you came here on an official invite.” You nod your head.

“And keep out a lookout for an envelope for you two as well. I'd love to have you two at the mansion sometime.”

—

As the soldier guides you back, you see the king at the top of the stairs looking out. When he sees you emerge from the flower bushes, he doesn’t hesitate for a second to start running. To you.

Welt crashed into you with a oomph as he wrapped his arms around your body.

“Ouch, you’re quite strong, my king.” You mumble with your arms dangling by your side, not returning his hug. Welt immediately pulls away and looks at you. He cups your face and rests his forehead against yours.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispers. You shake your head. “I was just walking around, met the duke and duchess of Stellaron. Quite lovely people.” You ramble on and Welt looks at you quietly.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt are you?” He asks softly and your heart beats faster. You shake your head once more. “I’m fine, thank you.” You mumble, as if subconsciously, you gently hold onto his clothes.

“If you want to walk around, take me with you.” Welt says and you nod your head. He smiles at you before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You didn’t know what to make of what just happened, it happened so naturally you didn’t question it at that moment.

—

Still at the mansion in the country, you still receive the letters from Welt. You have not gained the courage to open any of them, though you want to, some voice in the back of your head is telling you it’s the same thing from a year ago all over again. So you push the thought of reading his letters aside.

You and Welt haven’t pushed the agenda of having an heir. And you think Welt doesn’t seem to be planning to bring it up anytime soon considering how he seems to be devoting all his time to you and you only.

Everyday he tells the cook to only make food you like, bring desserts of your taste to the table and make drinks and teas only you enjoy. Though at some point, you felt frustrated and felt bad. Does he not wanna have something he likes to eat or drink?

Not only that, as soon as he sees you step out of the mansion or hears about that from his servants, he’s at your beck and call. Seems like the day you ran away for a few hours had left quite an impact on him.

Though you can’t push him away everytime he does that, because you do, to your disappointment, enjoy his presence. He seems to not mind you not replying to what he says and lets you stay quiet as he keeps talking.

You two passed by a certain flower bush, you walked past it when Welt stayed behind. He gets on his hunches as he plucks it from the bush. You turned around as to why it turned so quiet and saw how he’s approaching you with the flower in hand.

Your entire body swells in butterflies and you hastily turn around. And you hear Welt’s steps hasten as well and he stands in front of you. And he gives you the lily flower.

It’s your favorite.

Welt sees you hesitating to take it from his hand so he lightly grins at you.

“I can pick up the entire ground of lilies for you if that’s the reason the flower isn’t in your hands yet?” At his words, Welt sees you giggling and he swears the sky never looked bluer, birds started singing and he saw only you in his vision.

Then you take the lily flower and thank him softly. Oh how much Welt wishes he could engulf you in his arms and kiss you to the world's end. But he stayed put and watched you subtly smile while admiring the lily flower.

—

You decided to go out the back of the mansion, and see how there’s a fountain there as well. As you sit down by it, you look into the deep water while fiddling with the royal queen pin on your right side of your chest. When you do, you feel how it’s a bit loose, about to fix it you hear Welt call for you. You turn to look at him the same time as your hand accidentally hits the pin, making it fall into the fountain water.

Your eyes widen and you immediately stand up. You unbutton your clothes and take them off. “Why did you startle me like that?” You glare at him a little. Welt chuckles lightly. “I fetch for someone to get the pin.”

“No need, I do it myself.” You huff out as you slide your dress down your body.

Welt sees all this happen in front of him and stands star struck when you’re left in your white chemise. Then he sees you jump into the water and he immediately runs up to you.

He sees you in the water, looking around then grabs something. When you get up from the water, you try to get yourself up on the fountain so Welt helps you by putting his hands below your armpits and lifts you up. You yelp in surprise a little, but he steadies you on the fountain then doesn’t let go. You sit down on it.

“Why did you do that? Are you hurt?” Welt fusses over you, as he looks at you everywhere with his eyes.

You lift the pin in your index finger and thumb and show it to him. “I am fine, let me go.” You sigh out. Welt does release his grip but not before his hands lightly graze down your sides and you look up at his brown eyes. They’re focused on your body, he doesn’t look up once to look at you. You look down at yourself and see how your white chemise is see through when it’s wet.

Now you’re feeling conscious and flustered, he blatantly stares at your body without any ounce of shame. Almost like he was admiring the view. At that point, a thought wandered into your head. Would he still admire your body if your chemise was off your body?

As Welt stepped away, you almost missed the close proximity and heat from his larger body. He was standing beside your thighs, but had you spread your thighs a little, would that mean he’d be standing between them? Would he pull himself closer to you? Your entire body heats up at these thoughts and your eyes widens.

“Thank you for lifting me up.” You softly mumble as you get down from the fountain and pick your clothes up. You hold them to your chest and walk past him. As you pass by, Welt couldn’t help but let his fingers graze the side of your thighs and your wet chemise. His hand flexes.

When you walk away from him, he wonders if you knew that when you were doing that, it gives him a view of your backside. Your wet dress is sticking to your skin and Welt looks at your inner thighs that got revealed by your dress sliding up. He turns around and groans at himself.

He adjusts his pants but can’t stop thinking about the way your breasts looked below the dress, your nipples perked up and since he stood over you, he could see into them. If he pulled the dress down, would your breasts spill out? Welt groans at the thought. And when he saw your inner thighs? If the dress had slide up a little bit more, he had seen everything above the thighs.

Welt has a long day ahead of him.

—

A little few days later, you get summoned to Welt’s office in the country mansion. This has never happened before, you can’t help but worry.

“I have to go back to the palace, the ministers needs me for a diplomatic task that requires me to be there in person.” Welt explains and you sigh in relief.

“Do you wanna come with me? We can always come back here as soon as the task is solved.” Welt gently tells you as he steps closer to you.

“I can—“ realizing what you’re about to say, you stop yourself but see how Welt is staying quiet, letting you finish your sentence.

“I can wait here for you.” You softly mumble and Welt’s heart swoons and swells in love for you. How he managed to not take your lips in for a kiss is a wonder.

And when Welt was gone, you didn’t know how much of a bore it’d be. If you weren’t busy with your hobby, eating or sleeping, you’d be with Welt. While you’re not much of a chatter yourself, Welt would take up the task and do all the talking.

It was the second day without Welt, and you invited the Duke and Duchess of Stellaron to the country mansion. To say you had a great time was an understatement. You grew to adore the stoic duke, who seemed to know his way with jokes and making his wife giggle and laugh. And the duchess with her teasing remarks and her making her stoic husband blush furiously.

Yingxing excused himself to use the chamberpot, leaving you alone with the duchess. As soon as the duke was out of the room, the duchess didn’t hesitate to turn to you and take your hands in hers.

“So how are you faring, my queen?” At her simple but genuine question, you can’t help but feel a little emotional but you decide to not burden her with your thoughts.

“I’m faring quite well. More than I thought I would actually.” You lightly chuckle as the duchess smiles at you.

“And without your dear husband, the king, as well?” At the mention of Welt, your heart fluttered but you lightly winced.

“Yes.” You simply say. And the duchess gets worried at your behavior but decides to not push it.

About to speak up, the duchess husband gets back to the room and joins you two once more.

The day went by and you bid bye to the couple of Stellaron before retiring for the day. As you were brushing your hair, a knock was heard on the door and you got up on your feet.

A maid was outside with a plate in her hand, on the plate were two envelopes.

“A letter from his majesty the king and the Duchess of Stellaron, my queen.” The maid bows her head and you take the envelopes before thanking her. Closing the door, you look at the envelopes in your hands. You open the letter from the duchess first. Her words in it make you smile. She simply wrote —

‘Your majesty,

Should you need a friend, I’m always just a few hours away.’

You’re most grateful for her companionship and friendship, writing a reminder in your head to thank her in person the next morning. As you put her envelope aside, you see the one from Welt.

Back at the palace for diplomatic reasons, Welt still found time to write you this letter. Your vision gets blurry because of tears forming. Thinking it’s not the end of the world, you open the envelope and start reading its content.

—

The maid gently presses a cold spoon to your eyes, her face full of worry for you.

“My queen, should you need to stay abed the whole day, do tell me.” The maid fusses over you and you chuckle slightly as you shake your head.

“I doubt my eyes are very puffy, dear. You need not worry about me.” And you’re right. It’s not very puffy at all and by the time the duke and the Duchess of Stellaron arrive at the country mansion, the puffiness is gonna disappear.

And so it did, you’re just grateful you carry a pocket mirror in your purse. Exiting the mansion, you see the duke and duchess exit the carriage.

“Welcome, Duke and Duchess of Stellaron. I’m most grateful for you two coming here.” The duchess and duke bows, giving similar sentiments back and you giggle.

“I feel bad for having you two speak with such formality with me considering we had such a lovely time yesterday. I think we’d been the closest of friends.” You grin at them, both of their eyes widen before they soften.

“I think you’re right, my queen.” The duke, Yingxing, says as his wife agrees wholeheartedly.

They joined you for tea before luncheon, and before you realized it, they'd been there the whole day. You called yourself not much of a chatter but this day, you’ve proven yourself differently. A servant entered the room with an envelope and when you saw the familiar stamp, you did your best to hold back your tears. Thanking the servant, you tuck the envelope in your sleeves and glance back at the couple in front of you. They didn’t miss how your expression changed when seeing the letter. Even they recognize the king's stamp.

“Is that from the king?” Yingxing asks and you nod your head. “Aren’t you going to open it?” The duchess asks and you lightly chuckle before shaking your head. “I open it later on, I wouldn’t wanna cut our evening shorter.”

The duchess senses discomfort from you and pats her husband's thigh, signaling him to leave the topic of the king alone, figuring out he’s a sensitive topic.

The evening went on and it was time for the couple to retire back home. So they did and you were left alone once more. You feel the envelope tucked inside your sleeve and you hastily run back inside the mansion. Arriving inside your room, you open the letter and read its content.

He’s coming back tomorrow.

—

Welt has heard word of you being in company with the Duke and Duchess of Stellaron. Before going back to the country mansion, he decides to pay them a visit. They’re on the way after all.

The duke and duchess didn’t expect to see their king on their steps at all. They hurriedly put together a table for him, apologizing for not being able to welcome him properly.

“It’s alright.” Welt chuckles. “I’ve come here to thank you two for keeping my wife company the days I’ve been away. I’ve heard she never looked happier and that’s all I wish for her.” Welt gently tells them. The duke and duchess look at each other, realizing this is quite an out of place behavior. All this time they’d think something was going on wonderfully with you two. But seeing your discomfort at seeing the king's letter yesterday and Welt thanking them, personally, for keeping you company. They never expected this.

The duchess glances at her husband, Yingxings eyes slightly widens in surprise and he grabs onto her hand signaling her a ‘don’t do this’ but the duchess just gulps on air before turning to look at the king. Welt saw the whole ordeal happening in front of him and got confused until the duchess spoke up.

“Your majesty, I hope I’m not crossing a line here. But is everything alright between you and the queen?” The duchess’s question makes Welt flash her a sad smile. Then he lightly shakes his head.

“I have done something to her and I regret it immensely. I can see she is still hurt by what I did.”

“Have you talked to her?” The duchess asks once more. Welt nods his head. “I’ve done everything I can to ease her pain and I apologize every single day.”

“I think my wife means a different kind of talk, your majesty. There must’ve been a reason as to why you’ve hurt your wife, no?” Yingxing says and it’s like Welt got a realization. His eyes widened. This whole time he’s been doing everything to gain your favour and forgiveness without telling you the reason behind why he’s hurt you the way he did. Not to justify his actions but to give you some possible understanding.

Welt hastily stands up, the chair screeches and both the duke and the duchess stand as well before she speaks up.

“I hope you mend your relationship with the queen, your majesty. She’s a lovely person and even if I have known her for a short while, it saddens me to know such a kind person is experiencing a heartache.”

And Welt couldn’t agree more.

—

Your entire body was full of nervousness and anticipation. Though you still remember the pain Welt caused you, your love for him is still there. He’s been gone for almost a week and he’s coming back anytime soon. It’s afternoon and your husband is still not here.

Unbeknownst to you, your husband is scaling up the stairs at such speed, the servants haven’t had the time to greet their king. Welt stands outside your bedroom door, having heard you’ve been cooped up there since morning.

As he stands outside still, your maid opens the door and eyes widened in surprise. About to bow and greet her king, Welt places an index finger on his lips signaling her to stay quiet. She does.

Then he hears your lovely voice he has missed all the days he’s been away from you.

“Did you forget something?” You ask the maid, not forgetting to address her by her name. Your maid yelps slightly when Welt shakes his head.

“Uh- oh! No!” The maid stuttered before she hastily left, not forgetting to bow to her king before she did.

Welt enters your room, as he sees you by your dresser, still in your nightgown and your hair released. He’s never seen you like this. He burns the memory of you like this on his brain. About to speak up, you catch him in the mirror reflection and stand up in a haste.

Then Welt sees how your brows furrowed before your face morphed into anger. He sees you grab a stack of envelopes, before reaching him in a haste and throw them at his face.

“How dare you!” You raise your voice. Welt looks at the envelopes you threw at him and sees it’s the letters he’s written to you.

“What is this—“ he looks at the floor. His eyes widened. “You brought the letters I wrote to you.” He mutters as he looks at the floor. He picks up a letter and opens the letter. Each entry in his letters is always ‘my darling wife’.

“Of course I did, and I regret opening them all.” Hearing how your voice wavered, Welt looks at you. Tears are formed in your eyes. Welt takes a step to you but you take a step back, shaking your head. “No, don’t come closer to me.”

“I need to be close to you.” He pleads softly and you shake your head. “No, especially not after what you wrote to me.”

“Did I write something bad to you?”

“You professing your love for me in the letters is bad enough.”

“Is that so?” Welt takes a step closer.

“Stop!” You take a step back the more he steps closer to you. But to no avail, you feel your dresser at the back of your thighs and you push at Welt’s chest. But since he’s so strong, it’s to no avail. He traps you between him and the dresser, caging you in by placing each hand on each side of you on the dresser.

“Is me loving you really that bad, wife?” You nod your head. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re too late.” You retort and Welt sighs.

“You’re undermining yourself too much.” Welt says and pulls his body closer into you. Your body meets his fully, if he gets closer enough, your breasts will get squeezed up against his chest. Then you feel his hands on your waist before he lifts you up to make you sit on the dresser. Then he stands between your thighs and you try to push him away. He grabs your hands in each hand of his. He sees how much you’ve fiddled with your hands to the point you’ve been scratching at your nails.

“You need to stop doing this.” He softly mumbles as he takes your fingers closer to his face before he kisses your fingertips, all while looking you in the eyes. Your breath hitches and your tears fell down even more.

“It’s never too late to fall in love with you.” He softly tells you, looking into your eyes.

“Stop doing this to me, please. It hurts.” You whine and Welt shakes his head. He lets go of your hands and cups your face. He wipes your tears away but they just keep coming.

“Please, stop crying baby.” He pleads and you shake your head. “It’s all your fault. For hurting me like this, for playing with my feelings and faking those letters. I thought you loved and cherished me.”

“I do, I still love you! You’re all I think about every single second of all days.”

“You’re lying.” You shake your head again. “I don’t believe you.”

“Would you believe me I did this to you out of fear?” And your eyes widen. You look at Welt and see how his eyes are glistening in tears.

“Would you believe me if I said I faked those letters because of my fear of marriage?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Your voice shakes. “Did you hurt me because you’re afraid of being married? I don’t understand, Welt.” Said man wishes he could focus on the way you said his name, the way he got to hear your pretty voice utter his name and not by his title.

“Since I’ve grown up, I’ve witnessed my parent’s marriage. To say it was bad is an understatement. Because of these two, marriages have left a bad taste for me.”

“Then why did you marry me?” You grip onto the front of his clothes, trying to shake him. “Why me, Welt? You would have spared me all this misery and your apologies had you not married me!” You cry out.

“Because I loved you the moment I met you!” Welt raises his words as his grip on your face pulls you closer to his face and you flinch in surprise. “I’ve loved you since the day your eyes widened at the sight of me, since the day I heard your lovely voice which continues to play out in my head all day long. Ever since I saw your eyes land upon me, I’ve loved you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I hurt you, baby. Because of my fear and distrust in marriages, I’ve pushed you away and hurt you in the most unimaginable way. Because I loved you so much, I couldn’t break off our marriage. That would mean your smiles would belong to someone else one day and that lucky man would hear your voice every day.”

“And you would not.” You add in and Welt nods.

“The letters Himeko wrote, I’m sorry. I would’ve prevented all this had I told you everything.”

“And you should’ve told me after sending out the first letter Himeko wrote.” You push at his shoulder. “Did you not feel bad for what you did? Not once?”

“Of course I did.”

“Why did you continue?”

“It would mean our marriage would’ve been spent apart unless for our duties. It would mean I wouldn’t hurt you the way my father hurt my mother.”

“But you did hurt me, Welt.” He flinches and nods his head. “I did.”

“How long are you gonna make it up to me?” You ask and Welt looks at you.

“As long as I live.” He sincerely says, looking into your eyes and your grip on the front of his clothes tightens before swatting at his chest . He lets go of his hold on your face, his hands falling down by your side. He was about to turn away when he felt you stop him by wrapping your thighs around his waist.

“You do not walk away from me, Welt.”

Welt looks at you surprised, he feels his body and face flush in warmth at the way you’re squeezing him with your thighs. He wished he wore lighter clothes so he could feel you even deeper.

“I don’t understand-“ You grab his face and lean in to kiss him. Welt’s eyes widen when he feels your lips upon his. Then you pull away. He stares at you for a few seconds before he takes your lips in a kiss. He wraps his hands around your neck and pulls you in to deepen the kiss. The kiss was slow and deep, as if the love Welt professed in his letters to you wasn’t enough, he poured out even more in the kiss. You could cry from this alone and you did. Welt tastes some salt in the kiss, he pulls away panting when he sees how you’re crying.

“Why are you crying? I’m so sorry baby, I’m so-“ his words are cut off by your lips on his.

“I cant-“ he gets cut off when you kiss down on his lower lip. He groans when you nip on his lips then he pulls away once more. You whine at the loss of his mouth on yours. “Baby, please tell me why you’re crying.”

“It’s you!” You cry out before kissing him once more. Welt is surprised but he was also confused, what did he do this time? He just wants to make it up to you and have you quit crying. The sight of your tears is constant daggers at his heart. He can’t stand the sight of them.

He pulls your face away from his and you whimper out once more. “Stop doing that.” You plead, about to go in for one more kiss. Why is he being insufferable? Why can he just let you kiss him?

“I don’t understand what I did, my love. If I don’t know why you’re crying and I’m the reason for it, I won’t be able to survive until I know you’re satisfied with my apologies.” He rambles on and you just stare at him. He grows even more confused but flustered, especially at how you’re glancing down at his lips. And mostly because of the way your hands are trailing down from his face to his collarbone and stopping at his chest. You slide your fingers in the opening of his buttoned shirt, feeling his bare skin on your fingertip. He feels you squeeze him even tighter with your thighs, he almost yelped forward.

“Who told you I was satisfied with your first apologies in the first place?” And Welt turns quiet. You see the screws unfold in his head before you lightly giggle at his reaction, then your giggles turn into laughter when you see he gets even more confused.

“So you pretended to have forgiven me just to kiss me?” He finally catches on to your teasing and your eyes widens. “I didn’t know my darling wife had this side to her.” He lightly gasps and you swat at his chest.

“Maybe if you didn’t make Himeko write these letters and you wrote them in the first place, we would have consummated our marriage on our wedding night.” And then it was your time to shut up. Both yours and Welts eyes widened in surprise at your words. Feeling embarrassed and utterly humiliated by what you said, you push Welt away. He moves to the side and when you get off your dresser and take a few steps away from him, he grabs your wrist and turns you around.

You couldn’t protest before you feel yourself get lifted in the air then suddenly you feel something soft on your entire back. Welt just threw you on your bed. Then he gets on your bed and you try to get away but it’s to no avail.

He pins you on the bed, spreading your thighs as he seats himself between them. He takes off his outer garment, throws it aside before he hovers above you.

“Welt- what are you doing?” You stutter out, flustered at the way he manhandled you so easily. You knew your husband was a strong man, he carried a sword for aeon’s sake. Those things are heavy. Of course he can handle you physically like you weigh nothing.

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me why I made you cry.”

“I have answered your question-oh!” You feel him nip on your neck. He licks the spot on your back before he lightly sucks on it. Soft moans leave your lips as you grip onto his hair.

“No, my darling wife, you did not.” He mumbles against your skin. Now he’s lowering down to your collarbone. Because of your nightgown being of such soft material, it was easy to tug it down. If Welt tugged it even further with his finger, your breasts would spill out of their confinements in your nightgown. He does the same thing he did to your neck on your collarbone.

“Ah! Welt, not there, it’s gonna be difficult to cover up with my dresses.” You manage to say and Welt shakes his head. “If it’s impossible to cover up, that’s good enough for me.” He trails his hands from your collarbone down your sides to grip onto your thighs. As you move below his body to get out of his body hovering over you, you brush your heat against his clothed crotch and Welt moans. You stop in your actions.

“I told you I wouldn’t stop until you answer my question.” Welt mutters out before he lightly rolls his hips against yours and a breathy moan escapes your lips. This feels so good, you run your hands over his back. You crumple his clothes in your hands before you could feel his bare skin on his back.

“Then I won’t answer your question.” Welt’s eyes darken at your words. His hold on your thighs moves up and he squeezes your breasts through your nightgown. You gasp at the touch. He feels how your nipples are perked through your gown and he pinches them through the material. You let out a hitched moan. He does all this while also rolling his hips against you.

“I’ve dreamt about you like this. Below me, at my mercy as you let out sweet sounds by how I make you feel.” Welts words have you deeply sighing. “That day at the fountain? It plays out in my mind every day. Every day I wonder what would have happened had I tugged your chemise off and let your breasts spill out.” You moan at his words and at his hips softly rolling against you. You shake your head, whispering soft ‘stop’ but he doesn’t stop.

“Had I stood between your thighs, would you have let me take you right then and there?” Your eyes widens but you shake your head, Welt chuckles deeply. “Baby, if you react like this, are you sure you wouldn’t let me?” You bite down on your lower lip then give up, your head nods and you see how Welt smiles.

“You would have been with my child already if we consummated our marriage at the fountain.” Welt leans down to whisper by your ear and your eyes widens. Shoots of pleasure run through your body and you feel your heart beat even faster at the thought of what he said. “My child.” He mumbles as he lightly bites down your earlobe. You whine as you shake your head.

“I wouldn’t let you do that.” You huff out but whines escape your lips when you feel how Welt stops rolling his hips against you. He stares at you and you were about to cry because of him doing that when he chuckles.

“Look at you, do you not see how your fingers are fumbling with my pants, my love?” At his words, you look down and see how he’s right. Did you just subconsciously reach down to do this? You grow flustered.

He resumes his hips rolling against yours and you feel a knot form in your lower abdomen. You dug your heels into his back as you grip onto his hair this time.

“Welt, I will-oh!” Your knot in your abdomen grows tighter when you feel one of his hands on your bare cunt and he rolls his fingertips on your clit. As he continues for a few more moments, the knot releases, your thighs shudder and you feel a wave of relief come over you.

“Do you not wear underwear, wife?” And you feel even hotter and flustered than you did before. Welt pulls his hand out from below your gown and you see his fingers covered in your slick. You see how he’s looking at it, then your eyes widen when he takes them in his mouth. “No don’t-“ and his eyes fluttered at the taste of you. Not being able to handle how he reacted to the taste of your essence, you turn your head to the side.

“I cried because your love for me is overwhelming in every way possible.” You ignore his question right now to answer his other one. With your head tilted to the side, your hands fall from his back to hold onto the bed sheets.

“Is it a good thing, my love?”

Seeing you nod your head, Welt felt a surge of happiness wash over him and he slumps his entire body over your own. You let out a oumph because this man is heavy. You push at his side trying to make him get off and release his entire body weight off yours.

“I love you.” He mutters against your neck before he buries his face there. Welt felt happy once more when you, for the first time, wrapped your hands around his body to hug him.

—

The same day, Welt had fallen asleep in your arms. He was lightly snoring with his head on your chest. You were still in your chemise and you felt how sticky your thighs felt when you rub them against each other.

With the heavy man on your body, you tried to not wake him up as you slid your arms away from below him and gently put his head on the pillow. He moves in his sleep but grabs onto your chemise. Even though he's asleep, he’s somehow got a hold on you. You gently unfold his fingers on your chemise and get up from the bed.

You approach the bowl of water, take the towel and clean yourself up. While you do, you remember what had occurred after he came home.

You never knew he hurt you because he grew up with a bad image of a marriage. When it’s understandable why he grew to detest it, it doesn’t justify him hurting you the way he did. But you’re telling yourself his words and actions are sincere. This man has cried in front of you multiple times, he’s put your own comfort before his without hesitation and complains. He’s told you his deepest part of himself.

Your heart and love has always been with Welt, even through the time he’s done everything to have you forgive him. And you have.

As your thoughts wander further, you remember what happened after he told you everything. Your body flushes in warmth and your heart beats faster. The way he made you feel by his body and his hands touching you in your most intimate parts. You hastily clean yourself up and are about to adjust your chemise when you feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. You lightly yelp in surprise and Welt giggles at your reaction as he nuzzles his face in your neck.

“It’s gotten late, I didn’t realize we fell asleep.” Welt mumbles against your neck and you hum in reply as you put the towel back in the bowl of water.

You turn around to face him and Welt looks at you. As you look into his eyes, you see how they’re getting wet and you get worried.

“Why are you sad, Welt?” He shakes his head, smiling as you cup his face. He nuzzles his face into your palms. “You’re finally looking at me, I’m just happy is all.” At his words you chuckle.

“Didn’t know you were such a crybaby.” You tease lightly and Welt playfully rolls his eyes. As he did that, a tear fell down and you giggled at the sight. “I think you’ve cried more than me actually.” He sighs and you pout.

“Did you clean yourself up? I thought I ended up in a different bedroom when I didn’t see you in bed.” You nod your head, growing flustered as to why you cleaned yourself up.

“Do you wanna take a bath?” He asks and you nod your head. “Yeah, I’ve been cooped up in the bedroom all day.”

Welt calls for a maid to run a bath for you. As she prepares the bath, she doesn’t miss the two love marks on your neck and collarbone. She hastily looked away blushing and you saw it all. You subconsciously put your hands on your neck as Welt was still in the room. If he sees you flustered, you think he’d tease you all night long. And maybe say these sweet words he told you hours before. Your heart fluttered at the thought.

“The bath is done, your majesty.” The maid says as she bows her head. You thank her softly and the maid sees how your husband is still in the room and how you haven’t undressed yet to get into the bath.

“Fetch a servant for the king, to run a bath for himself as well.” As soon as you utter these words, you feel a warm presence behind you. Welt strokes his fingers up and down your wrist before intertwining your hand.

“There’s no need for that, you may leave.” Welt speaks up from behind you and your body burns up and you grow even more flustered.

“Yes, your majesty.”

The maid bows and leaves you two alone. You didn’t speak a word as Welt undressed himself before helping you. You feared if you did, there’d be no stopping your stuttering. Your heart feels like it’s gonna beat out of its place when you see Welt in his naked glory, which you refused to let your eyes wander further down, get inside the bath and reach his hand out for you to take. And you did. He helps you step inside the bath.

He leans against the bathtub and sees how your body further disappears in the water as you lean on the other side of the bathtub. Welt complains to the aeons in his head, why’s the water of cream-ish colour? Had it been clear water, he would be able to see your beautiful body. Welt internally slaps himself for his perverse thoughts.

“You could’ve had a bath run for yourself.” You mumble. He sees you draw circles on the water and he smiles. “And not take the chance to have a bath with my lovely wife?” He grins at you. He takes your hand and tugs you forward. But you don’t budge.

“Come on.” Welt pouts and you shake your head. “No.” You simply say and Welt pouts even more.

“Why not?” And you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know.” You say as you submerge your lower half of your face in the water. Welt looks at you confused but then he sees how you refuse to meet his eyes. And it clicks in his head.

“Are you nervous, my love?” Your eyes widened in surprise and you shook your head. “No I’m not.” You retort and Welt chuckles.

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are nervous.”

“I said I’m not!” You stand up in haste from the bath. Which resulted in water almost splashed at Welt. He wipes the water that landed on his face with his hand before he looks at you. You’re standing with your fists by your thighs and there’s water droplets running down your body.

You look like you’ve been carved by the aeons themselves. You are divine.

You realized what you did when you felt Welt’s hand graze yours. When he softly strokes your wrist before softly intertwining your fingers, he lightly tugs you forward.

“Come to me.” His voice was deep but so gentle, all you did was quietly obey despite your eyes widening a little.

He made you sit in between his thighs and when his brown eyes locked with yours, you felt your body flush but all he did was show you a gentle smile. He gently cups your face, leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“If you place your hand on my heart, you’d feel how fast it’s beating when I’m in close proximity to you.” He confesses softly by your ear then pulls away. So you place your hand on his chest and he’s right.

It’s pounding so fast and hard against his skin, if it was possible, you think you could hear his heartbeats without a tool for it or being far from him.

You feel his hands trail down the sides of your body and then he lightly turns your body around. As if it’s a common thing, you lean your body against his chest. His arms are warm and snug as they’re wrapped around your waist.

“My heart has been like this ever since I met you. If I hear your familiar steps, or mentions of you, it truly feels like all my heart and soul wants to do is to be with you.” His words do nothing but bring happy tears to your eyes as your own heart swells up in love for him. You feel him stroke your abdomen, rubbing circles on your skin and you feel so content and in love.

“I regret every day for hurting you. And I regret not being a good man to you.”

“But you are, even if I have said something different from that months ago.” You hastily throw in as you look up at him and you hear Welt chuckle.

“My love, a good man doesn’t hurt the one he loves. Which I did.” He strokes your cheek softly and you shake your head.

“But you made it up to me, have you not? In every words you’ve written to me in your own letters and in every single thing you’ve done for me.” You tell him as you flip your body around. You kneel in front of him as you cup his face.

“You may have hurt me deeply but you gained my forgiveness. You have earned me back, Welt.” You told him, looking into his eyes and Welt’s brown eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe your words.

“Have I, truly?” He sounded so unsure and you flash him a soft smile. Before speaking up once more, you take your seat on his lap by placing each thigh of yours beside each side of his body. Welt looks down at how your body is connected so intimately and he holds onto your waist.

“A man who hasn’t earned me, wouldn’t make my heart race out of its place in my ribcage and have it be held in your hands to be kept safe.“ Welt’s eyes flicker all over your face and he sees such a genuine smile on your face and his grip on your waist tightens.

“If you haven’t earned me, I wouldn’t have loved you even during the times you did everything to gain my forgiveness.” You see how his eyes wells up in tears and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

“I knew you could be this endearing ever since I saw you enter the lounge room when we first met each other.” You stroke his cheek with your thumb and Welt chuckles lightly.

“What I didn’t know is that I would have fallen for the same man who blushes at the mere presence of me and whose heart escapes his chest every time when I’m in proximity or mentioned.” You confess to him and tears fall down Welt’s eyes.

“I’m sorry for all I did.” He shakes his head, his voice quavering and you lightly shake yours. “I know you are.” You softly tell him.

“I love you endlessly.” His grip on your waist is hardening and your own eyes wells up in tears at the raw emotion and the pure love you feel emitting from Welt. “I love you, Welt.” His tear stricken eyes and face stills before he pulls your body in closer and rubs his face in your bare chest, his hands grazing up and down your bare back, squeezing you here and then.

“Every moment of my day is spent thinking of you, not a day goes by where I don’t wanna see your beautiful face or hear your voice. Not a day in this world is there a moment I don’t love you.” He leans away and holds your neck gently, gazing into your eyes and you lightly bite down on your lips at the intense stare of his eyes and how much love you can see in them. All of it feels overwhelmingly good.

“I may be a king of this kingdom and to the people, but I am yours.” He articulated so firmly, you didn’t know what else to do but just softly nod your head as you softly suck in your bottom lip and Welt’s eyes flickers down to your lips. He subconsciously leans in and you do as well but your mouths just brushes against each other. It’s as if this could be the first time you feel each other's lips upon each other.

“Can I kiss you?” His whisper was quiet but you heard it. A soft chuckle leaves your lips before you nod your head. “Yes.” You mumble out before he presses his lips on yours.

It felt like you could finally breathe, so you breathe into the kiss before kissing Welt back. If he didn’t verbally confess his love, this would be it. Your lips a tangled mess, all you could do is kiss and kiss, flutter your hands down his chest and feel his bare skin.

Greedy and needing more and more, Welt gently squeezes your neck as you softly moan into the kiss before he tilts your head to deepen the kiss deeper than ever. Your hands reach up tug on his hair and pull his head back, to meet his lips in a needier kiss.

Welt’s hand flutters down your body and your body flutters in ecstasy at his touch, even his touches are overwhelmed with love. You’re soft and warm everywhere as his own body is firm and hardened against yours.

With a firmer tug to his hair, Welt groans into the kiss and you take the chance to nibble and suck on his tongue and drew a guttural sound from him as you continued down to nibble on his lower lip. Your lips wander down to his jaw, pressing kisses and emitting sounds from Welt you’d imagine about. Your lips wander further down to his neck, at a certain spot, it had Welt squirming from below you and you decided to give that one place more attention. Attention by sucking before lightly biting down, extracting a breathy moan from his mouth.

About to continue, you felt Welt wrap his hands around your neck before he leaned your head away. You let out a soft whine before you got shut up by a rough kiss, you moan into his mouth before a gasp draws out from you when you feel Welt’s hand on your backside.

“Marking me like that, my love, I could have come from that alone when I’d rather do that inside of you.” This was his first mention of coming inside you and you felt your heat squeeze down on nothing.

“Coming inside just to fill me up or to make me with child?” And his hips bucks into your cunt from below and you moan at the friction you felt.

“Careful, I did also say I wanna enjoy our time as two for a while.” He says against your mouth and a soft whimper is heard from you before you nod your head. So it’s just to fill you up, you think to yourself, your entire body feels like it’s on something else than just ecstasy. It feels like an addiction.

And to Welt, you are an addiction. The way your body responds to him, the way only he can make such sweet sounds emit from your soft lips and the way he’s the only one to have you. You might not have said it yourself, but while Welt is yours, you are wholeheartedly his.

It is an obsession.

—

The Duke and Duchess of Stellaron were met with their king and queen at their doorstep, without guards and footmen. They were holding hands and the king had a reddish color to his cheeks. And the queen’s smile was so big, you’d wonder if her cheeks hurt. The happiness was immense if you looked at the two.

Apparently you and Welt decided to do a little runaway from the country mansion, have a little time for you two without your staff. The duke and the duchess couldn’t hold back their laughter when you told them of how you managed to be alone without your staff.

To be with these two, you’re glad you found a friendship in them.

You were walking side by side with the duchess, arms linked together as her husband and yours walked in front of you, chatting away about something.

“You look happy, my queen.” The duchess softly says and you look at her with a smile.

“I am happy.” You assure her and she smiles back at you.

“I’ve always felt your smile wasn’t wholeheartedly real just a week ago. I suspect the king is the reason behind your smile right now.” You giggle at the duchess's words before nodding your head.

“We had a long year and to have mended our relationship, it has lightened my shoulders. And I also have you to thank for it.” The duchess stills in surprise, you know she’s gonna ask what she could have possibly done to make it better. So you speak before she could.

“My husband told me of how you suggested that he shall talk to me, not just apologize. While my husband may be a wise king, as a man I doubt he’d think of that solution.” You chuckle at your own words and the duchess tries to hold back her laugh. But in the end, she stops you two from walking and takes your hand in a soft grasp.

“I’m truly happy to see my dear friend and my queen, to be so happy. And I’m glad a simple solution of mine has made your relationship with the king better.” You softly thank her once more and as you’re about to continue your walk with the duchess, your husband approaches you.

“My love, our guards have found us.” Welt says as he points behind him and you giggle. He looks almost defeated to have his escapade with you ended so quickly. And his talk with the duke, whose company he’s grown to enjoy. And have possibly found a friendship in.

“I think it’s time for us to go home, Welt.” You tell him as Welt takes your hand in his and he sighs, agreeing much with your words.

—

The staff at the royal mansion in the Kingdom of Astral have never seen their king and queen this happy. While Welt always takes your hand as he helps you down the carriage, you two immediately went to your own routines when entering the mansion, but this time, you two are engaged in a handhold.

The floor your bedchamber and Welt is at, has become different as well. It was well known that the king and queen never shared a bedchamber but to see you two enter one bedchamber together and share it, the staff couldn’t help but feel only happiness for you two.

“Do you think the servants find it uncommon for us to share a bedchamber now?” You ask Welt from your chaise as you comb your hair. He’s taking off his robe, revealing his toned and firm upper body. Disappointingly, he kept his pants on.

“I can imagine it’s an unusual sight for them.” He replies as you nod in agreement. Welt comes up behind you. He takes the comb in your hand and brushes your hair for you.

“This is our first night together in this bedchamber.” You hear Welt say and your heart flutters. A year ago, you started having separate bedchambers and now a year later, you’re sharing one.

“I can go to the other one if you want to.” You tease Welt but he doesn't seem to catch on, so he stops brushing your hair and stills in shock. You see his reaction from the mirror of your dresser. You turn around and you laugh, Welt’s eyes widened as he catches on. He falls down on his knees, burying his face on your lap.

“Oh aeons, you frightened me.” He breathes out in relief as you giggle. You run your fingers through his brown hair. “I don’t think I can’t go a day without sleeping in the same bed as you.” You hear Welt huff out and you giggle once more.

“Then you shall never hurt me, nor I you.” You say as Welt looks up. He holds your waist and kneels in between your thighs. As tall he is, he is still taller as he kneels in front of you. He nods his head firmly.

“I vow to never hurt you, I promise you that.” You smile at him as you nod your head. “I know you do.” You assure him.

“And if you hurt me, I possibly deserved it.” You lightly swat his chest at his words as he grins at you. Then he stands up as he grabs your hand. He pulls you to the bed. You get in the covers as Welt does it as well. Not a second passed by when your head touched the pillow, Welt’s arms are wrapped around you and your body is plush against his chest.

You place your forehead on his bare shoulder, breathing in his scent by the V of his neck. He smells so good. You didn’t miss the touch of Welt pressing a loving kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you.” He utters softly as he cranes his head down to brush his lips against your mouth. You smile softly, rubbing your lips against his. “I know you do.” You mutter back. And Welt knows you love him back.

—

pervert welt gets me going whouhfffffff

Also if you read till the end, thank you so much! i hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing this >< leave a like and reblog if you did, would be so much appreciated mwah

[shroomi1e]

— PUSH AND PULL : honkai star rail.

premise. as someone who's always believed in the term “try and try again,” (peak delusion, you know) rooting yourself in their heart has always been your goal, no matter the cold rejections and curt declines you receive. however, even you have your limits; perhaps this little push and pull you two have going isn't worth your time after all... but what happens then, if the chaser becomes the chased? (oh, how the turns have tabled.)

...or, when you play hard to get with them.

— ft. sunday, aventurine, jing yuan.

warnings: angst n fluff, messy messy, these boys are in love but are wayyy too chicken to admit they actually adore you, genderless reader.

a/n. inspired by @/xiaowhore's playing hard to get headcanons! my holy trinity 😇 n MY FAVES RAHHH

NEXT : BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX

SUNDAY is perplexed. very much aware of his qualities which enlists him as one of the finer (finest) bachelors of Penacony (he was the Robin's one and only blood, and was also the head of one of the main guiding forces of the Family, after all), sunday isn't sure he's ever come across someone as.... tenacious as you.

foolish, to be more precise, for he cannot for the life of him comprehend exactly why you are the way you are with... him.

no matter his respectful declines of your invitations to promenade around Penacony (re: going on dates), you really didn't know how to leave him be. though he hasn't exactly said he hated it, sunday was, admittedly, rather... affronted. your gifts, in particular, were your loud declarations of your affection (that make his wings flutter more rapidly than he'd like); but sunday was rather inconvenienced at the whole thing.

nonetheless, he does still accept them. reluctantly, mind you. not because he was fond of your constant shower of affections, which seemed so permanent that he began to look forward to them got used to it. to your credit, your gifts were very much to his tastes. (Robin once gave him a rather soul-searching look when he found himself wearing the gloves you gifted, light blue and white in color. he still uses it, just not when his sister is in the vicinity.)

in fact, perhaps he may have gotten too comfortable. little by little, your constant intrusions on his time have thawed a way to his heart; making sunday look forward to your jovial greetings and grandeur elaborations on your day, and such a thing makes him feel scared sunday needed to nip this in the bud, and fast.

so he confronts you, abruptly one day as you give him his newest gift—a jewelry box for his earrings. (surely, the rapid thumping of his heart was due to his irritation at your constant persistence, right?) “i'm afraid this can no longer continue. i am flattered by your... fancy for me, but i do not wish to enter a relationship in the near future.”

the utter silence that follows is torture to him—but he endures. he tries not to look at the momentary flash of hurt on your face. you seemed to quickly recover, though. giving him a simple smile (it didn't reach your eyes. it shocks him how his chest ached at the realization) and shaking your head when he returns the gift to you.

“i understand, mr. sunday.” the formal usage of his name instead of your chipper ‘sunday!’ makes his face twitch. “but please, keep the gift. think of this as my last declaration. it... would do me a great comfort, just this last time, if you accepted it instead.”

(if he had grabbed your hand at that moment as you left for the door, would he regret it?)

when you leave, sunday thought it would put the conflicting feelings in his mind at ease—but it doesn't. a week and two days counting, true to your word, sunday receives no flagrant gifts, nor little messages on his phone that tell him to take care of himself, to eat, and to make sure to remember to check up on Robin.

instead, contrary to the feeling of ease, regret follows him instead.

it's at two weeks and five days counting when sunday could no longer stand the sight of papers that stacked atop his desk and the image of you leaving for the door replaying in his head far too many times for him to count, that he contacts Robin.

and she, once hearing about the situation, gives him a very, very enlightening talk. (of course, not without giving her brother a lecture of the lifetime. part of him felt shame to know that his sister knew of his... turbulent love life, but she was the only one who he could trust, anyway).

“absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she says. “but in your case, brother, your heart has already decided it's course, right?”

sunday eyes the smooth velvet of the jewelry box you gifted, ruminating. his earrings lie there, carefully pristine and beautiful, gold and silver intertwined. he has worn them without fail, clean and spotless. (of course it was. such a design so intricate was only chosen by you. the thought makes his ears warm).

the next days are agonizing. vigor renewed and epiphanies well-spent, sunday spends the rest of his time after finishing his duties researching and painstakingly finding the best jeweller he can find (even employing the suggestions of a certain gambler, much to his dislike), and spending a god awful amount of time revisiting and rechecking which spots you like, which places you enjoy, to the point it comes up in Penacony's headlines that sunday is interested in someone.

surely, it should've reached your ears by now, yes? sunday panics. your preferences are well-accounted for, and he's sure the Bloodhound family members that report to him have to tell you that the person he had in mind was you. even Robin, who was your closest friend, has probably told you already.

it's embarrassing to admit, but; to hell with it, the day he meets you after three weeks and sees you having a pleasant chat with aventurine, of all people, sunday thinks his heart had shattered into little pieces and stabbed themselves into his body. not so much as sparing him a glance, moreso.

so when, finally at his wits end, sunday chooses to corner you at the dewlight pavilion and spills out how he has royally screwed up in the worst way possible, no one is surprised. at this rate, you would be swept up in the charms of that wretched gambler, and what sunday lacked in, aventurine more than made up for.

“wait, don't go to that gambler just yet.” he's breathless, he's chaotic—and something in his heart squeezes when you finally look at him. “i... i wish to take up your time now, if that's possible.” (he wishes he would take up your time forever, really, but that was still too early).

you eye his getup. all of your gifts, lined on the man you spent so long chasing after—you see the gloves you gifted, the tie with not so much as a single crease, and the earrings that shine more brightly in the light of the pavilion. (it suits him. like you) it was as if sunday had completely surrendered himself to you, had all but decided to proclaim that he was yours, and this was nothing short of a plea for you to hear him.

“please.” he says. almost begs. “i can't bear not seeing you anymore. allow me to correct such a damning mistake.”

and if you were skeptical, the way sunday looks at you would dispel any doubt you could ever have. (his wings, they were fluttering.)

(months later, after a nerve-ending confession, many days of dinners, shared gifts involving matching jewelry and promenading to your wishes, it dawns on sunday he was absolutely dancing to your tune. did he regret it, though?

....no, most certainly not.)

if AVENTURINE were to be honest with himself, he saw you as a useful “friend” rather than a romantic interest. was it bad of him? of a sort. but risk cutting himself open and letting someone he might grow to care for know about all the ugliness that follows his life? no, he's fine as it is, thanks.

the first thing he notices is that you're kind—though he distrusted most of his colleagues and preferred none to get close to him, aventurine, in some morbid moment of curiosity, instead allowed himself to bask in your attention. instead of curtly disparaging you, he flirts back at your compliments (the way your face heated up in return was far too endearing that he can't help but want to kiss you he finds it amusing) and consistently texts you a “did you get home safe” or a “i bought you this because it reminded me of you”; at this point, it was like you two were dating.

was it leading you on? yes, but he supposes it was a win-win; he could send you those tiny bits of validation that was enough for you to stay respectfully at a distance while he probed at your intentions. unlike others who attempt to garner his favor, you're genuine, and you seriously take the time to know him. because you always text back with hearts, always reassure him, tell him to stay safe and wish him luck at every gamble, every high stakes bet he finds himself in. you even complimented his perfume once (and, if he had to be honest, he could not stop thinking about it all day—because that perfume he commissioned exclusively was based off of your own favorite scents and it was extremely embarrassing that he loved hugging you knowing that you loved the way he smelled and that it felt extremely domestic).

(sometimes, he doesn't reply. for months on end. suddenly the golden-haired man you love goes cold and you know then that aventurine ghosts you and then returns when he's in need of a friend—never a lover. it hurts you, but at the very least, you know he cares in his own way.)

and, if aventurine had to be honest, it was killing him from the inside bit by bit. as if to drive the knife deeper, you never danced around what exactly was going on with you two. you never ask why he ghosts you, then sends you a bundle of gifts all of a sudden and then rapidly spends time with you and repeating the cycle. no, you were consistently by his side, so warm and so caring—so unlike him—that aventurine wonders if it's really all right to open his heart to you.

if, by some chance, he actually wanted to be with you, would you treat him even more sweetly than before? aventurine thinks you would—you were beautiful in your entirety, and he was practically undeserving of you. he imagines himself kissing your hand and having you in his arms—and that feels like ice cold water being dumped onto his head, because you could do so much better and yet, why him?

so when aventurine hears about how a certain doctor was visiting you for some unknown reason, his already fragile sense of security in this little will-they, won't they crumbles.

and when he finds out that you were staying over with ratio? something twisted lodges itself in the little brushes of his heart, coiling and coiling—making him feel green. aventurine is aware you and the doctor are good friends, and ratio was the one who even told you to make a move on him! how could he just—suddenly interrupt?!

(was it dramatic? extremely. but knowing his friend and the person he secretly adores might end up together? you can't really blame him.)

he supposes this can be attributed to him. it was an egregious mistake, a blunder aventurine made—he never gave you a clear sight of whether he truly loved you or not and now you're slipping away from him.

so, he does something very unexpected.

at 3:00 AM in the wee early morning hours, aventurine practically barges into one Dr. veritas ratio's home, demanding what the hell was going on between you. and as if he had expected it, his doctor friend merely gives him a shrug in return.

“perhaps they were simply getting fed up by a certain IPC member—who is clearly head over heels in love with them—giving them mixed signals.” ratio's tone is stern, and aventurine definitely knows that the look he gives him is the one he gives only to fools.

you idiot, the doctor seems to say. yeah, yeah, he is; aventurine ignores the clear pinprick at his dignity.

yes, he supposes he is the fool here. “ah.”

“yes, ‘ah,’ indeed. now, let me propose a question.” the purple-haired man says. “will you react in such a way when i tell you that in order for my friend to stop their anguish, i managed to get them to fraternize with one of my colleagues?”

“...what?”

“they will be having a meet-up seven system hours from now.” ratio shrugs. eyes aventurine, who's looking at him like a gaping, stupid fish. “i can only hope that no one would dare to disrupt.”

...it doesn't take him long to be rid of the gambler by then.

(a few hours later, you stop by the Intelligentsia Guild to see one veritas ratio with a smug smile, eyeing the fur coat draped around your shoulders, and the flushed and happy expression written on your face.

“did it work?” he asks.

you laugh, “splendidly.”

indeed, that gambler was a fool, and there's nothing more than dr. ratio loved than to educate such fools to shape.

“that will teach him.”)

as a quote unquote ‘old man’ who knows that he's well up in his years for a relationship, JING YUAN finds you to be quite amusing.

it doesn't take a detailed analysis to know that you were smitten with him, really. you're a complete open book by his standards—if your heated face and slightly airy voice whenever you were even placed in the same vicinity with the Dozing General was anything to come by. while flattering, he also shares the similar mindset of being too old for any love his way—and he could be mara-struck at any given time, and jing yuan does not wish such a life filled with anguish and pain for the one who may steal his heart. but, worry not, brave suitor of the Arbiter General! unlike the other two above, this man has the experience of millenia, and is open-minded and aware that you truly wish to be perceived as a potential lover.

in fact, jing yuan's recent favorite habit is sneaking off the Seat of Divine Foresight purely to freak you out, watching you scramble up your words, seeing the heat crawl up your nape and bloom all across your face. adorable. you certainly knew how to appeal, that's for sure.

(“heh, it seems i've found a new place to stay in so that the Diviner Fu won't grill me alive when she sees me.”

and when he's rewarded with a bashful and speechless look in return, a smile and your, “i'm glad, general.” it surprisingly lightens up his mood by more than he expected.

that, in turn, gives him a frightening 30% energy boost; fu xuan was utterly shocked to see the languid man actually working and looking like he enjoyed it, for once.

“did something good happen today, jing yuan? why so enthusiastic?”

“i just felt like working more than usual, diviner Fu. i seem to have my energy levels at a high.”)

now, jing yuan is considerate and perceptive first and foremost, so there's a high chance that out of all the men here, he is the most open to giving you the chance to pursue him. he does inform you beforehand that he has no plans of accepting your confessions in the future, and that is where the ‘hard to get’ part comes in.

it's like playing a confusing romance visual novel with a fickle love interest—you never really know what you're doing, whether it's something jing yuan would like or not, and you don't know if he even thinks your attempts are moving his heart. (tldr: he friend zones you).

he maintains the same distance no matter his banters with you, no matter how many times you tell him that you'd help yanqing out with sword lessons. it's like he was just... treating you as he would a friend, and that you were basically stuck in the friend-zone forever.

(he keeps it to himself, but something warm stirs in his chest when he sees yanqing sleeping on your shoulder after training practice, with your arm protectively around the boy's side.

your sleeping face didn't make it easy to look away either; it's one of the few moments in which jing yuan shows just the slightest bit of reciprocating your pursuits; he brushes back the stray hairs covering your face, and drapes a blanket over the two of you.

of course, perhaps to tease yanqing, he also takes the calligraphy brush and makes a work out of his face, doodling all over it.

when you wake up, there's a lingering scent of ink and yellowed paper that fills your senses. when you turn to the boy beside you, you almost giggle out loud.)

it's a little disheartening—and while jing yuan did acknowledge that you were slowly, slowly burrowing yourself in his heart, he doesn't act on it fast enough, and instead lets the realization sit in his mind for a while.

it gets to the point where it feels as though he were preparing to distance himself, and even yanqing had asked if he was well. your visits with the Arbiter General also decrease, as he suddenly buried himself in his work even more than before.

he doesn't get to see you all that much afterwards, despite the lingering feeling of missing you filling his heart.

....that's until jing yuan hears word of a recent mara-struck incident involving the Sky-faring Commission; with your name listed among those heavily injured.

when he visits Bailu's clinic after yanqing urges him, jing yuan takes in the sight of you, littered in injuries from head to toe. your life, about to snap. he never even told you that you won; you did manage to steal his heart and for the first time in a long time, jing yuan allows himself to love.

so if, after three weeks later when you're finally healed up and ready to go, jing yuan brings you into his arms and drags you to let him sleep in your lap, you can't really blame him now, can you?

a/n: i love yearner hsr men,,, might do a pt 2 though. thinking of mayb ratio, jiaoqiu and f/heng next time...... sighs dreamily

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[shroomi1e]

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It's easy, and there are MULTIPLE things you can do! I recommend doing each item on this list.

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Rate Hoyoverse's games, particularly Genshin, with one star on the app store. This has already proven in the past to have an effect, when this caused the team to review the anniversary rewards.

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WHY IS THIS IMPORTANT?

It's easy to dismiss this in the face of 'more important' issues in the world at the moment, but Genshin Impact (And by extension, Hoyoverse) is a very influential game and company. It is extremely popular, and directly influences MANY other games and players through this popularity.

This isn't an issue of 'just stop playing'- This is not anger for a game's decisions, it's anger for a precedent. It's a demand that not only should Hoyoverse care about representation, but other, smaller, companies too. If Hoyoverse can get away with it, so can others- But if Hoyoverse is held accountable for their exploitation of culture, then it sets the precedent that other companies have no chance of doing the same.

Like it or not, Hoyoverse has a lot of influence, and the CCP itself values the company for giving China a positive image in other countries. This is bigger than just being mad at character design.

EDIT: It was also pointed out to me that if POC were to simply stop engaging with hostile content, they would have nothing left. 'Just stop playing' isn't fair, plain and simple. POC deserve to play the things that they enjoy WITHOUT being ostracized.

DOES HOYOVERSE LISTEN?

They listen if there's no money lining their pockets, they listen if their reputation is damaged, and they listen if the CCP gets involved. We have direct evidence of this.

Review bombing alone caused Hoyoverse to reconsider the first anniversary rewards.

The CCP forced Hoyoverse to reskin various characters to comply with their laws, which HYV did. (This isn't necessarily a good thing, however, it is still evidence that CCP has influence over them.)

This is by far the largest outcry the company has seen so far, and MANY of HYV's voice actors have spoken out in support for the movement as well. This is not just playerbase complaints, but staff, too.

I recommend following AvenOfStrats on X/Twitter for further updates on the petition's progress, and on other ways to contribute. They also share plenty of resources on why this is important, and guides on how to complain.

[shroomi1e]

GIRL TALK ! ( STAR RAIL MEN )

SUMMARY ! march 7th finds out you like someone. and as your best friend, it’s only right that she has to give her input on whether or not she approves of him.

NOTES ! i was in the mood to write something but this was last minute and this was all i could come up with 🤺 may do a part two featuring other star rail men but we will see. part two of girl talk (gepard, dr. ratio, aventurine, and boothill)

TAGS ! reader is not the trailblazer. contains dan heng, caelus, sampo koski, jing yuan, and argenti. feelings are mutual on both ends.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . DAN HENG !

immediately tells you that she already had her suspicions. and now that you confirmed it, it makes her all that more excited. you having a crush on dan heng is just what she expected. she’ll go on and on about how you two would make a great couple because he opens up more to you. now she gets a little sneaky and begins to make up excuses whenever missions come around so that the two of you can go together. it’s her own way of being a mastermind. the more time you two spend together, the closer she is to seeing you and dan heng start dating. yes, march has dubbed herself as your personal wingwoman. so is the duty of being your best friend.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . CAELUS !

of course she finds it cute that you have a crush on caelus. and it all makes sense to her now. she constantly hears you and caelus making the same kind of jokes, watches you two play games together on your phones, and on rare occasions, she’ll find you rummaging through trash cans with caelus. though she doesn’t know why you’d go to such lengths and go through the trash cans with him. admitting your feelings for the newest trailblazer will only make march relentlessly tease you about it in the best way possible. so whenever caelus invites you to join him in whatever shenanigan he has planned for the day, she’ll send a quick wink your way.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . SAMPO KOSKI !

she’s mentally judging you. definitely finds this as a “to each their own” type of situation. out of everyone you guys have met, the one you have feelings for is sampo. march isn’t too fond of him despite how much he has helped them during their time in belobog. she does have a few doubts here and there, but if he’s currently the one who you’re interested in, she’ll go along with it. march has to observe the way he acts before making any big decisions like setting you two up. she can tell the feeling’s mutual by the overly flirtatious comments sent your way or gifts you receive by sampo when visiting belobog again. she’ll sometimes peek over your shoulder and see some messages coming in from him, asking when you’ll come back to see him. she could grow used to him so let her work her magic and you’ll be with him in no time.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . JING YUAN !

the general of the luofu is a tough decision. although she believes he’s a great choice considering his high rank and popularity, it’s also a bit of a downfall. she saw some heavy chemistry between you both back when the express was currently at the luofu. she didn’t have enough time to make some comments but she knew you’d end up having some sort of feelings towards him. she’s only worried about the cons that could come. like the fact jing yuan can become a busy man within seconds. would he make enough time for you? no, he needs to because someone like you deserves it. march refuses to let her best friend settle for anything less than what she’s worth. march can trust that you’ll be in good hands with jing yuan.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . ARGENTI !

it’s a very interesting choice in her opinion. though she understands why you’d end up gaining feelings towards him. it had to be that compliment he gave you the very first time the express met him. “a beauty that was sent by the goddess idrila herself for him to praise”. very poetical that it had the entire crew speechless for a few seconds. march hasn’t stopped bringing it up since that happened because you had never gotten that flustered before. she can only imagine all the other compliments argenti has sent your way when they’re not around. whenever you’re smiling at your phone a little too hard, thinking no one is watching, she’ll head over your way asking if your boyfriend’s the one making you all smiley. march doesn’t even need to be your wingwoman for this one. she knows the knight will handle it all on his own.

[shroomi1e]

My mom showing me "hot", buff, alpha males she took from Google: "Do you think he's attractive? He looks really nice!"

Me thinking about stinky opossum guys who look like they've been out in the rain for 13 days: "Yeah I guess I dunno.."

[shroomi1e]

listen, I have never been sa'd before. but as a woman I have gotten my privacy threatened and I have been catcalled and harassed, and the threat of being sa'd looms over my head like it does for many other people (just not women, obviously). even if I have never experienced it, I deeply empathize with victims and despise the monsters that ruin another life for their own pleasure.

so imagine how disgusting it feels to constantly be bombarded with "dark romance" or dead dove pieces of writing that is put on a pedestal and romanticized. there is no excuse for writing or intentionally enjoying pieces of media that romanticize the pain and violation of another person other than that you are sick and vile.

"b-but it's not real! no one is being hurt!" -- so do you think it's the same with lolicons? what about the countless degenerates out there who sexualize young characters? what about the romanticization of stepcest/incest in the corn industry? aren't they making the same excuses as you? why is it that this logic does not apply to sickos out there like you?

and yes, fictional media does affect real life. there's a REASON why so many men who watch weird ass animes end up consuming child corn as well. at a certain point these things are normalized for you and you might not even realize it. you might even lose empathy for other victims as well.

"but I'm an SA victim and this helps me cope!" -- do you hear yourself? say that again but slower. would someone in their right mind who has gone through a genuine trauma purposefully consume media and watch a fictional character go through the exact same horrible thing as they did? i understand wanting to romanticize your own trauma as a way to make it seem less traumatic, but you still need to understand that what happened to you was wrong. it's better to understand that you were victimized and violated than to delude yourself into thinking that what happened to you was romantic or desirable. you are making things worse for yourself by consuming this type of media.

and this obviously applies to any other extreme fetish/kink such as kidnapping, physical assault, stepcest/incest, grooming, etc etc... romance is escapism for many people, guys. let's not bring the cruel and disgusting parts of the world into what many people consider a safe space here.

stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women

"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!

[shroomi1e]

people who write content like this are fucking sick in the head. there's a special place in hell for writers who fetishize and glamorize pedophilia and rape, especially since many more younger people are starting to use the internet nowadays.

if ygs ever see content like this, REPORT IT. people who write things like this do not deserve a platform. though a good amount of people on Tumblr are older and can handle occasionally running into uncomfortable content like this, younger people need to be protected so that they don't mistaken these kinds of fics to be normal or something to be desired.

Warning: Pedophile, Rape

Ok so I was reading dead dove fic (because I like yandere and dark contact) and I just saw a post that was tagged "pedophile" and I was so fucking shocked. So I clicked on that and read it. I can't believe these shit actually exist... How can people write these shit???

I couldn't believe it actually exist so I searched it and what I saw truly was disgusting...

And the things that make it more disgusting is that they wrote it like the child (no matter if it's reader or the characters) is enjoying it and it make them wet...

I was someone who was raped when I was 9 and there's no pleasure in that... It's just pain both physically and mentally...

And these people are truly disgusting! Ok I like dark contact too but not this!!! It's just pure evil to sexuality children!

[shroomi1e]

「 forget you | hoyoverse fanfiction 」 dan heng & kaeya x gn!reader | angst, amnesia | general fanfiction. ↳ additional tags. angst with no comfort, established relationships, mentions of alcohol & drinking (kaeya), i'm not sorry ↳ ehehe... oops... happy one hundred to the xianzhou jade !!

data has been uploaded! - send an ask to join the taglist; specify genshin, honkai or both! @lovingluxury, @dumbificat, @starryshinyskies, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @ainescribe, @soleillunne

the jade's guidelines | genshin m.list | honkai m.list | previous work

DAN HENG didn't quite know what to expect when welt texted him about your situation. his own partner in an accident? he knew that he should have been persistent and gone with you and march 7th. he should have fought to go with you, he should have- he should have done a lot. after a few painstaking days of you being trapped in a comatose state within belobog's hospital with every visitation request denied, dan heng decided that he had more than regrets about this.

he spent his days and evenings restless, pacing his room with every thought rushing through his mind; would you survive? would you hate him? he figured you had every right to despise him. no amounts of time spent with his head in documentation, tracing over booklets of planets and history books regarding the aeons could ease his mind.

dan heng felt guilt, as if he only had himself to blame for standing there so quietly as you and march excitedly announced that you were going to belobog on behalf of himeko. march chimed in that you'd use it more as a shopping trip and whilst you laughed it off, dan heng silently wished he could go just to protect you. you were capable but he was anxious, losing you was the last thing he wanted.

this feeling would eat at him for as long as the doctors tending to you kept rejecting the astral express' visitation requests. he wanted to see you and now it felt as though he had to pay the price - another price... wasn't he paying enough already? his heart could rot from the amount of guilt he withheld inside of him, not daring to utter it to the older members of the crew. it could break his ribs, tear him open but he'd refuse to mention it.

miserable, dark grey clouds covered belobog's usual sunshine, painting the city in a dull appearance that could only match dan heng's numb emotions as the astral express crew navigated the streets of the city, finally on their way to see you. in march's bandaged hands - she'd taken the lesser of the injuries, coming back onboard the express with a few scrapes - was a beautifully wrapped bouquet of flowers, a bittersweet get-well-soon gift in light of the news that they'd receive along with their permission from the doctors; you had amnesia and they were still testing what you remembered from the accident.

he was nervous - no, he was far more than nervous. it showed on his face the moment they all solemnly shuffled into the tight hospital room, grimacing as they brushed against each other to gather around your bed. except there wasn't a form of excitement on your tired face but rather a look of confusion. welt cleared his throat first, eyes darting to look at dan heng's sudden loss of colour that drained from his face.

"they don't remember," he whispers to himself, as if no one else was around him. he takes a moment to lean back on the wall, "they don't remember me."

it takes welt's hand on dan heng's back to guide him out of the room shakily but nothing feels real anymore. all the memories, chaste kisses and moments where dan heng had done more than warm up to you in light of his past and previous life. you remembered none of it, not an ounce of the love he'd grown comfortable enough to give you, nothing.

dan heng's legs feel weak under him as his heart tears apart. perhaps this was a clean slate in terms of his regrets in protecting you, he could have done better and now he has a chance to wipe it all clear for you - you're not angry at him but he knows it's because you simply don't remember what happened.

he'll protect you better this time, more closely and not taking his eyes off of you. maybe one day, he'll tell you about the relationship the two of you shared; the kisses under the stars and the nights curled up together reading your own books. he would still love you. he'd always love you.

it felt like a fever dream when amber came to find KAEYA while he was on a commission for the knights. he hadn't been drinking on the job when the brunette arrived nor had he consumed any that morning... so how come she was spewing nonsense about you being seriously injured on a commission?

the cherry on the top? you didn't recognise a single person who'd visited you on bedrest. not jean, not barbara, not mika or lisa, not even noelle. and as your partner, kaeya was terrified by that prospect. you saw noelle and jean daily, always in cohorts with them - hell, you would see lisa sometimes more than you saw him, thanks to the busy nature of his rank.

if you didn't remember them without a sliver of recognition, would you remember him? he found it hard to breathe the whole way back to the city of mondstadt with a restless young brunette at his side and - begrudgingly, kaeya hadn't even invited him along - the owner of the dawn winery. diluc was equally as pained to hear of your accident from amber and who was he to not be there during possibly one of the most painful times of his brother's life? he'd done him wrong before, multiple times and perhaps he had tried to brush their brotherly relationship off but he was his brother, his found family. now, he needed him.

there was only so much dread that could consume kaeya's tall body. the peaceful sounds of mondstadt no longer soothed him on his walk to the city like it usually did after a commission, no. in fact, it was killing him. he wanted to hold your face in his hands, his breath fanning over your lips as he stares into your hands. he wanted to see that beautiful smile of yours again, the way you roll your eyes at his drinking antics.

what was he supposed to do if you had forgot about him too? amber says you'd taken heavy trauma to the head. amnesia... amnesia is what ruined his life this time? not family issues and abandonment, not a family death and the awful grip of guilt and anger... amnesia. memory loss. something that had so bitterly taken his beloved from him. you'd been the first person kaeya had truly warmed up to since he drifted away from diluc. the first person to see his true sides, to see his sheer raw emotions.

kaeya had had plenty of time to prepare for this endeavour on the way into the city, knowing the chances you'd forgotten him were plenty high with how you'd forgotten the other knights. yet to hear you utter the words "who are you?" with such an innocent look to your face, overridden by confusion, it shattered his heart. his lungs felt like he was suffocating and he almost wanted to choke out 'your partner' into the air but he doesn't.

instead, with the reassuring touch of diluc's calloused hand on his shoulder, kaeya forces a weak smile onto his face, sun kissed skin glowing in the golden light of the sunset that breaks through the open window in your room as he clears his throat to reintroduce himself to you, "i'm kaeya."

his voice cracks, a dead giveaway to those in attendance that he was struggling with the reality of this. because of you, he'd lacked to drink as much on the evenings but now... diluc was already preparing to drag his brother away from the taverns, muttering curses that drinking was not the right coping mechanism. he'd be at his brother's side even if the latter reeked of wine.

kaeya would love you all over again, he'd spend so much time with you it would be suffocating if only it meant you fell in love with him again. a second chance to right his wrongs, to kiss those lips again. you were his, he wasn't going to let you fall into the hands of anyone else. he'd fix this.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

© thexianzhoujade 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[shroomi1e]

Please be aware of the user @/saintsugu also known as Ezra.

Past pseudonyms include (but are not limited to: @/aces_high

I never thought that I would have to create a post like this. In my near 12 years on the internet, I never thought I would have to write down the words I am about to type, especially about a fellow fanfic creator, one I used to enjoy before I found out about the type of person he really is. I apologise for the long post, however I want to make sure I am as thorough as possible so I can bring this person to justice.

Before opening the read more/ continuing with this post, please read the trigger warnings. This will deal with heavy topics, ones that make me sick to my stomach. I apologise for all of the censoring in this post as well.

TW: P*DOPHILIA, UNDER*GE, SEXUALIZATION OF EDS AND SH

I would just like to start off by saying how difficult this post is for me to write. I have had to take multiple breaks while typing this out. I have felt disgusted since I first saw the posts on his twitter. Like I need to take a shower and scrub myself clean, however, at the same time I feel like I cannot sit idly by while Ezra still has a platform.

The posts I have seen on his twitter, what he actively endorses is just disgusting and predatory in nature. I have done my best to censor them so as to not continue the spread of such material. As of the time of this post, his twitter is still public.

HIS TWITTER (X) IS CURRENTLY UNDER THE NAME @/ezr_ace

First, I’ll give evidence I have to prove that the twitter account stated above is in fact his. I was wary at first as well, however, I believe this evidence in fact proves that beyond reasonable doubt that the account is his.

The obvious reasoning is as follows: Ezra goes by the pseudonym Ezra currently, and has gone by the pseudonym Ace in the past. Both the twitter account and his tumblr state that he is 21. Both twitter and tumblr themes are the same in nature, featuring manga panels of Suguru edited in the same way.

If you’re familiar with Ezra at all, you would know that they are very close with another user, Flora, also known as @/fyogasm. Previously known as @/pussydrunkfyodor on tumblr. When going through the followers of this twitter account, I noticed someone by the name of Flora following him (one of about 34 followers), with the user @/floratumblr. This account had their tumblr linked in the bio of the profile, and it led straight to Flora’s tumblr. Screen recording is posted below:

UPDATE: since Ezra has been called out, Flora has unfollowed Ezra’s Twitter as well as deleted her account. I can only assume it is to try and dodge the backlash of being associated with him. Here are screenshots proving they are moots/ interacting with each other.

Note: I do not know what this means for the content of Flora’s character. All I can say for certain is that she is close friends with him (to the point they have each others numbers), and that she follows his Twitter. I did not dive deep into her Twitter before she deleted it. But I can say that I do believe she knew the content he was posting about, otherwise she wouldn’t have deleted her Twitter the second he was called out while remaining mutuals with him on tumblr.

UPDATE 1/19/24 1:50 pm: Since creating this post, Flora has reached out and stated that they have broken all contact with Ezra. They state that they are not frequently on twitter, and was completely unaware of the type of content he was posting on the account. They state that the content found on the account has made them feel sick and that they are no longer friends anymore.

Back to the main point, this only adds to the similarities listed above. A close mutual that he has been seen actively talking to on his tumblr also follows him on twitter, endorsing his behavior. This alone was too much for me to ignore. However, one final factor came into play that solidifies that user ezr_ace and user saintsugu are the same Ezra.

He not only posted to his tumblr about hateful anon messages, but also his twitter at the same time. Right after the messages were sent, he tweeted the following, as well as posted the following messages on his tumblr. Screenshots with time stamps posted below:

This for me, confirms that the two accounts are the same. There are simply too many coincidences for me to ignore. I feel that there is no argument about the validity of the accounts, as there are just too many similarities to ignore. Now, I can delve into what the post is really about. The content of the Twitter account.

P*DOPHILLIC ACTIONS AND UNDRE*GE CONTENT.

To put it simply, I was horrified when I first opened the profile to be greeted with Shotacon artwork. Full on artwork of an adult Toji a*saulting a child Gojo. In this artwork, Gojo looks as if he can be no older than 10. Most of the image is censored for obvious reasons, however, part of the screenshot appears in the video above as well. Proving that it cannot have been doctored in any way.

As you can see, the post is tagged with tw sh*ta. For anyone unaware, the definition of Sh*ta is as follows: “Sh*ta is a term used in manga and anime fandoms to indicate sex involving an under*ge boy.” (Fanlore.org) Aka, CP.

It is disgusting to see someone who I once enjoyed, once trusted, interact with literal cp. Drawing or not, the effect of it is still massive. Viewing children (ANYONE UNDER*GE) in a sexual nature is harmful to everyone. It breaches past dark content into something horrible. Something dangerous.

I felt sick seeing someone be as brazen as to repost a picture of a child being a*saulted. To get off on it. It is p*dophilic. That is the only way it can be put.

Further on this, he has written smut of, in his words, “not necessarily under*ge” Suguru in highschool. There is a whole thread on it on his profile, however, I will not be showing it here. The screenshot below describes the nature of the whole post from his own words.

When I first read “not necessarily under*ge”, my first and only question was literally, what the fuck does that mean? Either he is under*ge or not. There is not some fuzzy grey area coating the world between adults and children.

But sure, give him the benefit of the doubt. That does not excuse him liking multiple posts tagged with under*ge content. The most recent being less than an hour ago. Posts censored to the best of my ability below.

These posts all point to the same thing. The disgusting, undeniable truth that this man is attracted to under*ge content. Content depicting minors in sexual scenarios. Content that no member of society should ever consume. He is a p*dophile. For viewing this content of his own accord. For liking it, for reblogging it. For creating it on his own. He is a disgusting person.

FOLLOWING MINORS.

Him interacting with content like that above, consuming it in any capacity at all makes him unsafe to be around. For anyone. Especially minors.

Even though his blog is 18+, even though he preaches that minors should stay away from his blog. He still found himself following a 16 year old. Becoming mutuals with them. The fact this person is 16 is clearly displayed on their blog as well (in their pinned post).

Screenshots shown below. The individual’s user is censored out as, once again, they are a minor and I don’t feel they should have to be wrapped up in this mess.

Once again, Ezra is someone who preaches about minors staying out of adult spaces. Multiple times he has complained on his blog about minors following him and having to block them. You would think he does the same and would be more careful about curating his online spaces, however it he fails to do that.

I don’t believe this can be boiled down to a simple case of missing the age in their bio— this user has their age in their pinned post, as well as their about me. Along with the sexualisation of minors prevalent on his Twitter, it makes me extremely uncomfortable to know that he is following a minor in any capacity. I’m sure it would make anyone.

SEXUALIZING EDS AND SH.

To end the laundry list of posts on his twitter, we have him writing smut glorifying eds, as well as liking posts depicting sh in a sexual light. As always, screenshots are shown below, censored to the best of my ability.

In the post listed above, Suguru is described in a way that is hard to stomach. While it is not nearly as bad as everything else stated above, I feel it is still necessary to include, especially because in this pairing he has often described and implied Suguru to be a minor. There is a line and he has crossed it several times, this is just another example of such. Serving as the cherry on top to further demonstrate his mindset.

Dark content and discussion of these subjects in fiction are not the problem. The disturbing part of this is that Ezra often uses these tropes within his min*r/adult sexual fantasies, and when paired with the sh*ta and under*ge content, leaves a very poor taste in the mouth. It comes across as not only a gross f*tishization, but a gross f*tishization of taking advantage of a minor that way.

A DISCUSSION ON THE LIMITS OF DARK CONTENT.

In this section, I feel that it is important to touch on how dark content plays into all of this. I’d like to expressly state that this is NOT a condemnation of dark content or its consumption.

Dark fiction and dark content are a fine line. It’s a fantastic tool for exploring taboos and emotions or experiences that aren’t often talked about openly. DC creates what is essentially a safe space for exploring things that are not typically done or seen in the real world, with the knowledge that writing or engaging with it does not necessarily mean condoning it. That being said, this callout post is NOT about being anti-dc. Dark content is a literary or artistic tool. Keeping all of this in mind, to actively engage with sh*ta content in which a character is depicted sexually not only as a minor, but as a child, and to be sexually aroused by that image is the definition of p*dophilia. Writing or drawing children and engaging with that content in a sexual capacity is p*dophilia and at the very least, has p*dophilic tendencies. This is not dark content, this is p*dophilia.

It is one thing to write or create dark fiction between adults for the purpose of gratification or exploration of social dynamics and it is entirely another to engage with art of a child engaging in sexual acts with an adult for (seemingly) the intent purpose of sexual gratification. Everyone draws their own line, but it is also important to acknowledge that there are some depictions of taboo subjects that border (if not fully step-into) harmful, p*dophilic content that perpetuates behavior and mental tendencies that truly are dangerous.

To engage with a drawing of a child and a full grown adult in sexual acts for the purpose of sexual gratification is incredibly fucked up. And the fact that minor and adult p*rnography are not just common, but dominating Ezra's twitter page, should be an absolute red flag. It’s okay to acknowledge that dark content is a medium for fiction while also acknowledging that there are some ways of engaging with it that are harmful, especially when it is so glaringly obvious that the content is between a child and an adult (the art I am talking about specifically really is a child. I don’t urge anyone to look at it, but it is gojo depicted as a child of maybe 8 - 10 years old. I’m not using the term child as an umbrella term for minors here).

The problem, stated very plainly, is that the post/s he is engaging with are sexual depictions of a child with the purpose of sexual gratification. That’s the point here. It’s not the dark content, but rather that he is retweeting posts depicting a child of about 8-10 engaged in sexual acts and created for the purpose of sexual gratification.

Once again, this is not a condemnation of dark content. Dark content can be used in so many valuable ways— facing trauma, dealing with taboo subjects, exploring the literary world in a safe and healthy way. As someone who actively consumes dark content, I will be the first to tell you this. However there should always be limits to the types of content produced. Gaining any kind of gratification from looking at a child being a*saulted is disgusting. It is p*dophillic. Especially when he actively engages with minors on his platform.

This is not a conversation of morals— which side is right and wrong. But rather a conversation about the safety of children. This is not a conversation about ageing up as that is not what he is doing. The characters being depicted here are not being aged up, rather are being depicted as minors, or literal children being used for the sexual gratification of adults.

The issue here is a p*dophile. Not dark content. Not anything else.

CONCLUSION.

I’ll be honest, post was extremely hard for me to create. Discovering that someone I once thought was close to me is this kind of person feels disgusting and abhorrent. I honestly wish I never had the displeasure of meeting them in the first place.

Hopefully, by the end of this post you are able to see the kind of person Ezra really is. I could not be silent about this. I knew that the moment all I found all of this out. This post has been very difficult for me to write, but I hope by the end of it some good will come. Some people will be able to avoid interacting with this man.

I believe Ezra needs professional help, and truly hope that he is able to get it some day soon.

Please be careful with who you interact with on the Internet. Adults and minors alike, there are predators everywhere. Please try your best to stay safe in your own online spaces. All of the love in my heart goes out to anyone who has survived child expl*itation. I hope for nothing but the best for you in the future.

Thank you all for taking the time to read this post. I know it is long and triggering for most people. I hope you all have wonderful days and try your best to take care of yourself.

Listed below are some important numbers I would like to bring awareness to before this post is over.

National Child Ab*se Hotline (USA): 1-800-422-4453

National Center for Missing and Exploited Children (USA): 1-800-843-5678

The National Sexual A*sault Hotline (USA): 1-800-656-4673

Childline (UK): 0800-1111

International Child Helpline: 116-111

TLDR: Ezra has a Twitter account where he retweeted artwork of a child gojo being a*saulted by an adult toji. He liked as well as created posts depicting under*ge characters (literally tagged with ‘under*ge’). All while being mutuals with a 16 year old on tumblr.

Tags used to try and spread awareness. I tried to mostly include fandoms that he is in.

UPDATE: lmfao, he has since deleted the retweet of sh*ta gojo after he was called out. Literally proving that it was him.

[shroomi1e]

Popped by just to say one thing:

Please do not ever comment on one of my things saying “Neuvillette is an unmoanable name”, “Alhaitham is an unmoanable name”, etc.

They are cultural names. Even if you aren’t apart of their culture, have the respect to give the care to their names as someone would give you yours.

[shroomi1e]

ART OF THE BEDCHAMBER | part 1

"Dual cultivation with you wouldn't be very useful. You might have extraordinary qi as a Vidyadhara, but it's sealed when you're in your human form."  Dan Heng stares at your fingers, deliberates as you trace the invisible paths of his meridians.  "Then," he says, "what about my dragon form?"  (Or: Dan Heng dreads the thought of outliving you and will do anything to help you achieve immortality. If that means fucking you in his dragon form, then so be it.)

6.5k words. smut, fluff, established relationship, xianxia elements. semi-explicit sexual content (only with dan heng in his human form in this chapter, sorry). reader is gender neutral, afab — they have breasts and bomb pussy game. cultural notes: "yinyue jun" is the chinese equivalent for "imbibitor lunae". please see the end notes for information on cultivation. other notes: this is set pre-1.2. 风月 was based on this fic so some things may feel very familiar! network: @trailblazernet. MDNI.

When Dan Heng—in a rather unexpected move—fell in love with you, he didn’t foresee all the agony that would come with it.

Shockingly, you aren’t the direct cause of this agony: a remarkable fact, given your routine of pestering him for as many hours as the day will allow. Dan Heng often complains about your many inconvenient behaviours (e.g., trying to cuddle with him in the archives, trying to kiss him in the archives, trying to have sex with him in the archives), but to the amazement of his fellow trailblazers, he never actually does anything about it. After getting over his initial embarrassment at such public displays of affection (this took quite some time), he’s come to tolerate it.

You often like to tease him for his leniency, all playful smiles and lilting tones: You don’t have to act so shy, Dan Heng—I know you enjoy the attention. My Heng'er likes to be spoiled, huh?

He always rolls his eyes in response. Consider it a miracle that I haven’t kicked you out yet, he’ll usually say, flicking you on the forehead. He never tells you if he means kicking you out of the archives or if he means throwing you out of the Astral Express itself, right into the vacuum of space. (Most bystanders are astonished that the latter hasn’t happened yet. So are you.)

He also doesn’t tell you how wrong it feels when he isn’t listening to the background noise of your shameless flirting. Or how wrong it feels when he doesn’t get to humour you with a kiss every once in a while.

Which brings him to the root of the problem: the wrongness that he’s feeling right now. The emptiness of the archives without your laughter, the tasteless quality of his food when you’re not there to dine with him, the restlessness of trying to sleep without you—it’s all wrong, wrong, wrong. Wrong enough for it to be a little agonizing, now that he’s nearing one hundred and twenty days of this.

You often have to leave the Express for many months in a row, so Dan Heng is no stranger to these unsettling feelings. Neither are you. If I could spend more time with you, I would, you’d said before leaving last time—and the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that. But I can’t avoid going into seclusion. It’s part of the whole Cultivator gig, y'know—gotta go to a mountain somewhere and meditate for a few months. That’s just the price of immortality if you’re a measly human. Then you’d given him a little smile, pecked him on the lips. Most people do it for years at a time, but I wouldn’t be able to leave you alone for so long.

The first time you’d pointed this out, Dan Heng was startled by the relief that flooded him. Vidyadharas have an intuitively different sense of time compared to human beings, and two or three years should feel like nothing to him: relative to the centuries he’d lived as his previous incarnation—or the decades as his current one—it would be only a fleeting moment.

But in your absence, it would feel like an eternity.

It surprises him how much he hates the crawl of time without you. Dan Heng had never before been a needy person: solitude and isolation had always been the norm for him, in a lifetime absent of human touch—first imprisoned from birth, then exiled from the first moment he got to see the sun. Even after leaving the Alliance, he hadn’t allowed himself to become particularly close with anyone: it would have been too complicated because of the sensitive matter of his past, and he simply didn’t feel deserving of it anyway. Nor was he in need of it.

Then he met you.

And then the afterglow. He hadn’t only grown used to that: he’d become addicted to it. Warmer and headier than huangjiu, something that he’d have never been able to imagine while growing up in the night-dark prison of his childhood.

Then he met you, and he became accustomed to the sound of your laughter, and then your offhanded, warm touches, and then your smile as you sat in the blue glow of the archive floor and poured baijiu into everyone’s cups. (Scalding, bitter; you had laughed as he made a face and warmed up huangjiu specifically for him next time, and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.) And then he became accustomed to talking to you—to letting you unearth things he’d buried for decades, to revealing his suffering and receiving your compassion, to the gentle feeling of your hand on his shoulder. Then the tender, nervous look in your eyes, then the silky press of your lips, then the closeness of your unclothed body, and then the breathless warble of your voice—Dan Heng, I’m close, I’m so close, please—and then the euphoria of having you arch and fall apart so beautifully in his arms.

He isn’t exactly deserving of your companionship. He knows that.

Even the memory of his first taste of sunlight aboard the Luofu pales in comparison to the feeling of having you in his arms. The first time he’d had the privilege of holding you, he caught himself thinking: If paradise is but a dream, then I wish to sleep forever.

And now, each time he lies awake on his futon, alone except for the glow of artificial stars, Dan Heng becomes acutely aware of the emptiness left by your missing form.

But he is in need of it.

After one hundred and twenty one days of seclusion, you are ready to return to the Astral Express.

Time moves differently when you cultivate behind closed doors. The act of such intense meditation and training distorts the flow of the world for you, makes entire months feel like days. Emerging from seclusion always comes with a certain anxiety: Are your friends well? Have they forgotten you? Has the Express continued its journey across the galactic railroad, or has some terrible event happened to your home—a supernova, a meteor shower, the destructive force of a stellaron?

And, most importantly: Did anyone murder your boyfriend while you were away?

There is at least one intergalactically wanted criminal who's tried to kill Dan Heng a number of times, and an entire alliance consisting solely of his haters. Half the reason you take your cultivation so seriously is to prepare for the inevitable day that someone is going to seriously attempt to murder him in front of you (probably the aforementioned criminal). You want to be strong enough to one-hit KO Arbiter-General Jing Yuan himself, if it ever comes down to it.

Of course, the downside is that the murder attempt might happen while you're off training, but you're hoping that March 7th and Caelus can cover for you in that case.

Still—while you have nothing in confidence in Caelus’ abilities (you adore March, but will not comment on hers), you sigh in relief when your phone begins to buzz.

> Are you out yet? We're on our way. > Get something to eat if you haven't yet. I'll make sure something is ready for you on the Express too. > I know you can practice inedia, but you're still a human at the end of the day. Please get something to eat as soon as possible.

No hello, no I missed yous, just plain, practical concern—as always.

You are not a practical person.

> GEGE! > GEGE GEGE GEGE > DAN HENG GEGE > come fast i want to kiss u > i'll die if u don't kiss me soon > i missed you!!!!!! > did you miss me??????

You can more or less imagine the expression on your (hopefully unharmed) boyfriend's face: deadpan exasperation. The first time you came out of seclusion during your relationship, you texted him no less than twenty times in a row from a new number, and he reflexively flagged it all as spam. He's since told you to tone down the double texting (and triple texting, and quintuple texting, and dectuple texting…), but always replies anyway.

> The Express is about to warp. We'll be there soon. > I'll do whatever you like, please just eat.

You watch as an ellipsis appears at the bottom of your chat window, then disappears, then appears again. When he finally sends his text, a smile stretches wide across your face.

> And yes, I thought of you the whole time you were gone.

With your return to the Express, you make Dan Heng engage in all your usual couple activities. Which is to say: you act disgustingly sweet with him and the other passengers experience varying degrees of shock and entertainment at his complacent behaviour.

You surprise him as he works in the archives, looping your arms around his waist and pressing against his back so you can whisper things into his ear: Gege, pay attention to me! or Dan Heng, can't you take a break now? or Heng'er, are you really going to ignore your lover like this? So cruel!

Dan Heng doesn't react during these moments, but he also doesn't push you away. Sometimes he'll shove a stack of books into your hands and say, If you have time to mess around like this, then you can work on digitizing these for me. You always agree, but wheedle a kiss out of him in exchange for your hard labour.

(Welt Yang walks in on one such kiss, coughs loudly, and walks back out. Dan Heng pulls away from your lips to stare at the door in abject horror.)

You give Dan Heng a number of books and films from your travels, and keep him company as he dives into them. He always gravitates toward the latest Xianzhou novels first, especially the ones that give mention to everyday life on the Luofu. You suppose that he's never been able to rid himself of his curiosity about the life that he'd been denied, enthralled by visions of night markets and starskiffs, teahouses and cross-talkers. You can see his longing in the crease of his brow, the softening of his eyes as he reads.

Seeing his wistful expressions, it is impossible to stop yourself from keeping him company. You press into his side, resting your head on his shoulder—something that will comfort him, you hope—and read alongside him. Sometimes the two of you fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other on the archive floor.

(March 7th stumbles into one of these moments and can't help but snap a picture of the two of you. Dan Heng later pales when he sees your lock screen, where your slumbering, entwined forms are clearly visible.)

You often convince Dan Heng to have a proper, sit-down dinner with you in the dining car. He won't ever do it for food from the kitchens, preferring to eat in the archives instead, but he'll do it for food you cook together. The two of you enjoy your meals while watching the interstellar scenery roll by outside, stargazing at distant galaxies. Sometimes you savour the tangy-sweetness of tomato-egg stir fry (your handiwork); sometimes you enjoy the rich broth of delicately steamed xiaolongbao (your boyfriend's handiwork); sometimes the both of you sweat over the punishing numbing-spice of malaxiangguo (a combined effort and favoured couple's activity—right up there with building furniture).

The other passengers wave whenever they see you, impressed that Dan Heng has emerged from the archives. They joke as they greet you: I guess you're the only one that can pull him out of his cave!

(The older ones—Himeko especially—laugh and talk fondly about young love when they spot you. Dan Heng's expression stays as stoic as ever, but the tips of his ears go red and he accidentally burns his tongue trying to eat his own bao.)

You address Dan Heng with an astonishing number of pet names at an alarming frequency; your excuse is that you need to make up for the four months you couldn't call him anything. Mostly you call him 'Gege' in public, which he usually doesn't mind as it saves him considerable face relative to all the alternatives, but this changes when Caelus starts teasing him about it.

Morning, Gege, he starts saying at breakfast, drawing a long stare from Dan Heng. Gege, can you help me with finding these records? he asks whenever he strolls into the archives. Before expeditions, he starts turning to Dan Heng and using his most sugary voice: You'll protect me, right, Gege? And Dan Heng turns to Himeko to flatly state, I will not be held responsible if he dies.

Eventually, Caelus grows bold enough to join you both for dinner: Gege, he asks, do you want me to hand-feed you these noodles too?

Dan Heng replies by rising from his seat and walking straight out of the dining car.

(Your long-suffering boyfriend eventually says, during one of your reading sessions, that Caelus is quickly becoming unbearable with this new habit of his.

Well, you muse, since he’s just teasing you about the way I talk to you, I could stop calling you ‘Gege’.

Dan Heng stops. He looks almost hesitant, like he wants to protest, but his expression flattens into a deadpan when you continue: I could always call you 'baobei' instead. What, you don't like that? But Heng'er, you're my baobei, my xingan baobei, my little little apple and beloved husb—whoa!

You laugh hysterically as you dodge the book he chucks at you.)

Sometimes you do get him to reciprocate your actions. Shockingly—despite his reserved and conscientious disposition—you have the greatest success with this whenever you tease him while he's working. You find it works best to crawl into his lap and kiss at his jawline, whispering into his ear while he tries to focus on his screen.

I’m so pent up, Gege, you often start with. I've been trying to take care of myself, but my fingers aren't enough. You like to straddle his hips as you talk, grind a little if you think you can get away with it. You whine if you do, pressing your face into his neck—right beneath his clenched jaw. Won't you give me some attention? Just ten minutes on this desk is all we need.

Dan Heng can only ever endure about fifteen minutes of this before throwing you over his shoulder. You inevitably find yourself being flipped over in a fireman's carry, being lectured in a flat tone. I don't know where you get off lying like that, he usually comments as he makes his way to your room, ignoring your yelping and kicking. 'Ten minutes'? Every time you act like this, you end up taking up my whole evening.

(He does, in fact, spend the rest of his night in bed with you, making it clear that there is no need for you to ‘take care of yourself’ so long as he’s around.)

But despite all the grief you give Dan Heng with your public, grand displays of affection, your favourite moments with him are the private ones. The ones where you sit next to him on his futon, sharing a pair of earbuds and listening to the latest hits from the various worlds to which you’ve travelled. The ones where you make dumpling skins together during the quiet hours of the kitchen, flour dusting your fingers as you roll out the dough that Dan Heng has kneaded. The ones where you spend lazy mornings in bed together, Dan Heng holding you as you talk at length about nothing at all.

The ones where you pause in your long-winded ramble to find him staring at you, his gaze fond and fully attentive. Met with such tenderness, you have no choice but to lean in and kiss him, long and deep and smiling—and in the privacy of your room, your boyfriend is more than happy to return it.

Some weeks after you return to the Express, Dan Heng gives you a long look after one such moment and says, "You should spend more time with me."

You raise a brow. "Eh? I already spend plenty of time with you, Heng'er. I've been bothering you 24/7 now that I'm back on the Express… It's a wonder you aren't sick of me yet."

"Of course I'm not sick of you," he replies plainly. "I could never be."

The admission makes you blink. Heat prickles the back of your neck. It's not often that Dan Heng is so straightforward with his feelings.

"And I mean"—he looks away, the red paint along his waterline hidden by his lashes—"that it'd be nice if you didn't have to leave the Express so often. If you could stay here all year round."

You can't stop yourself from frowning. "You know I don't like leaving you, but I really don't want to compromise my training." Your fingers sweep gently at his brow, brushing away his hair. "I wanna be strong enough to protect you, Gege. After I get to that level, I promise I'll be around more often." Then you smile a little. "And if I'm lucky, I might even get a long life out of it!"

Dan Heng's brow dips. "A 'long life'? The whole point of cultivation is to achieve immortality, isn't it?"

"Sure, in theory. In practice, almost no human ever becomes immortal by these means. If cultivation were so easy, then people wouldn't turn to shortcuts like magical elixirs or blessings from Aeon Yaoshi." You purse your lips, voice starting to colour with derision. "Not that I'd ever be shortsighted enough to chase either of those things, mind you. I'd rather work hard, have a long and healthy life, and die and reincarnate properly if it comes to that. Immortality isn't worth the strife caused by any other method."

Dan Heng studies you closely, his eyes steadfast on yours. "Then… what do you consider a 'long life'?"

You hum, thinking. "If I don't slack off with my training, I have maybe eighty to a hundred years of youth before I kick the bucket."

"Eighty years?" Dan Heng's eyes go a little wide. You aren't used to seeing it.

"Yes?" You shift, fidgeting with his eyeliner brush. "But that's only if I'm lucky. Pushing for anything more would be tough. I could undergo a qi deviation and die… or I might just not be talented enough to reach that stage of cultivation and pass away from natural causes… someone could also just kill me at any time, given my lifestyle. I've got a lot of options for dying, you know."

Dan Heng doesn't reply, nor does he look at you. It occurs to you that this whole conversation might be unsettling for him, given everything that's happened with the Xianzhou Alliance, with the matter of his past life and that vengeful monster he seems unable to kill. The mere thought of immortality must be painful for Dan Heng.

"I'm sorry, Gege," you say. "It's insensitive of me to talk about these things with you. Anyway—I'm not seriously trying to become an immortal, so you don't have to worry about me. I'm not looking to break any taboos."

Your lover gives you a long, unreadable stare before replying, "Right. Of course. Nothing good can come from the pursuit of immortality." Cinnabar paint flickers as he looks away. "Human life should be as morning dew—fleeting and ephemeral."

Dan Heng starts to behave strangely, after that. Quieter and withdrawn. Not just subdued in his affection, but absent in it.

When you bother him in the archives, he no longer scolds you or distracts you with any work—merely continuing with his tasks, completely immersed in them. When March 7th and Caelus tease him about his many pet names, he doesn't get flustered—only rolls his eyes and ignores them. When the other passengers catch sight of the two of you dining together and fondly comment on your relationship, he hardly reacts. He only continues eating, staring absently at his dish—usually something you've made, because he seems uninterested in eating anything else these days.

(Are you sure you don't want actual food from the kitchens instead? you ask once, studying what's supposed to be dough for fried breakfast buns. For whatever reason, you can't get the consistency right. The Express chefs are way better than me, you know.

No, he insists. You made it, so I want to eat it.

You don't need to be so polite!

I'm not being polite. He looks down at your fingers, dusted snow-white with flour. It's just what I want.)

You wrongly assume, for a little bit, that he's somehow lost interest in everything but your cooking. It only feels like the logical conclusion, especially when Dan Heng gets into the habit of ignoring you for most of the day despite your use of every trick in your arsenal—from kissing him to teasing him to begging him for sex. He simply tells you that he'll entertain you later, and is otherwise too deeply absorbed in his work to pay attention to you.

"Is something wrong, Dan Heng?" you eventually ask, voice small. "Is it that you don't feel the same way about me anymore? Do you want to break up?"

Dan Heng goes stock still when he hears this. Without saying a word, he puts down his tablet, locks the door, and kisses you long and hard. And then—for the first time in your relationship—he proceeds to actually fuck you in the archives. He rails you next to the terminal for the better part of an hour, forces an earth-shattering orgasm out of you that ruins the carbon-fibre surface you're laid out on, and then he fills you up to the point that his spend starts trickling down your thigh.

Hazy and fucked out, you wonder idly if it's dripping down onto the phosphorescent tiles below. Dan Heng will probably make a fuss about it, especially since this is technically a public space, and the terminal is its most high-traffic area. He'd have a stroke if anyone ever saw this mess.

When he stands up, you assume that he's getting right to cleaning, like usual. The guy can hardly ever relax.

You don't expect it when he gets onto his knees and puts his head between your thighs.

"Gege?" you say, solidly confused, but before you can ask him what he's doing, you feel the press of his tongue against your dripping entrance and then all you can do is moan.

By the time Dan Heng is done with you, the two of you are messy and breathless, collapsed and tangled up in each other on his makeshift bed.

You stare at the ceiling, mind whirring even in your exhaustion. It had been hard to process the situation while your boyfriend was railing every thought imaginable out of you—but now that he’s finally done, the shock is settling in.

Holy shit, you think, Dan Heng never gets this nasty. Something really is wrong!

You think of broaching the matter, but Dan Heng beats you to it. He turns to you, says, "I don't want to break up," and then gets back on top of you for another round.

You decide to put your foot down.

The next night, you invite Dan Heng into your bedroom. You're all business this time. There's no whining, no teasing, no Heng'er, you don't want to touch me? There are no desperate and indirect plays to get his attention while you simmer in anxiety about what he's hiding from you. (This change is not because of your own strength of mind—of which you have none, when it comes to your boyfriend—but because you're now sure you won't break up, whatever happens.) Instead, you seat him at your table and regard him with a firm expression.

You're careful to keep your voice gentle, but you still don't hesitate: "I know something's been bothering you, Dan Heng. Can we please talk about it?"

Dan Heng is prepared for the question. "I'm sorry I've been neglecting you," he says instantly. "It won't happen anymore. I'm very serious about our relationship, and I have no wish for it to end."

You know he's being earnest. After spending the rest of his night fucking you—slow and sweet in your bed, rather than the desperate way he'd done it in the archives—he'd woken up this morning and gone back to normal. Paid attention to you, paid attention to others, humoured your public displays of affection and initiated his own in private. Acted like the past two weeks never happened, and that nothing’s been weighing on his mind.

Were he anyone else, you'd assume that you're simply being strung along for sex, or perhaps being distracted by it. But Dan Heng isn't anyone else: he has absolutely no interest in physical intimacy without the emotional kind. He'd slept with you as an affirmation of his feelings for you. (He probably also did it because you kept begging to be fucked, but that's neither here nor there.)

Still, as much as you liked having your back blown out in the archives, semi-public sex isn't exactly a healthy way to deal with relationship problems.

"I know you'll be more mindful of my feelings now," you reply, "but I'd still like you to tell me what's been bothering you. I won't force it out of you, but if you did tell me, we could maybe fix it?"

"It is unfixable," he replies, "and not a problem to begin with. Simply the nature of things that I must accept."

His tone is neutral. Factual. Certain of the insignificance of whatever the issue is, even though you know that he's not the type to be bothered by insignificant things.

You frown, confused. "If it's the nature of things, then it won't hurt for me to know."

Dan Heng isn't looking at you anymore, instead fixated on the view beyond your window. Peering at the many moons of this galaxy, he finally relents: "'The night-blooming cereus flowers only once.' This is how Vidyadharas describe human life."

You consider his words, contemplating the bittersweet air of the idiom.

"Because human life feels ephemeral to you?" you discern.

"Yes. The lifespan of a human is but a fraction of ours. It's never bothered me before, but"—he's finally looking at you now, and his expression guts you—"four months without you feels unbearable. I can't imagine four centuries."

You go quiet.

Dan Heng is right: this is the nature of things. Skilled as you might be, you aren't likely to be one of those rare few humans who can ascend to immortality without Yaoshi's fruit. He’ll likely need to spend the better part of his life without you, and then every lifetime thereafter. Such is the reality for a Vidyadhara choosing to love a short-life species.

“...I’m sorry, Dan Heng,” is all you can bring yourself to say, but he shakes his head.

“There is no need for you to apologize," he says plainly. "I should have prepared myself for this eventuality when I chose to commit myself to you. It cannot be helped."

Dan Heng loves this phrase, you think to yourself. It cannot be helped that I had to live alone for so many years. It cannot be helped that I was exiled from my home. It cannot be helped that I was punished for the sins of Yinyue Jun.

It cannot be helped that you will someday leave me.

A splinter digs into your heart. You reach out, squeeze his hand, and wish that you could do more.

"It cannot be helped," you agree, "but that doesn't make it any less painful."

Dan Heng does not speak, but the way that he closes his eyes is enough of a reply. No matter how unfeeling he makes his voice, his pain is evident.

You wait for him to collect himself. Listen to his breaths—deeper than usual, meditative, reflective. There is hesitation in his eyes when he finally looks at you. A weakness that he only ever shows at night, after waking from a terrible dream.

"...I know it's a cruel thing to ask of you," Dan Heng eventually says, and the bitter edge to his words surprises you, "and perhaps a sign that this soul of mine will never change in its sins, no matter how many times it is reborn—but is there no way for us to spend a life together?"

You forget how to breathe.

What he's asking you is not just heretical for him—it's traumatic. An echo of the crime he'd committed in his past life, the tragedy that marked him for suffering in this one. He must be desperate for an answer if he's voicing the question at all.

You struggle as you think through your options.

"Seeking out the Peaches of Immortality is out of the question," you start. "And Sanctus Medicus is just a bunch of nutjobs—no way could they make me immortal. Demonic cultivation is another Path, but I don't think you'd like the thing I'd become by the end of it."

A brilliant river of stars streams past the window, like the one in that ancient folktale about the bridge of magpies. You can see the reflection of your lover's face in the window: muted, sorrowful, already mourning you. And of course he's mourning you long before your death, with how much he'd lost long before his birth.

Oh, Heng'er, you think, even if I drank from Meng Po's bowl and lost every memory of you, I'd still find my way back to you in my next life.

It would be too cruel to say aloud, so you remain quiet—merely staring at the galaxy before you, hoping quietly to see some kind of bridge.

Then a nearby sun flickers, and you remember something.

"...I guess there is another option," you say slowly, "but I can't imagine you being happy with it."

He straightens up. "What is it?"

"Well…" You take a deep breath. "Sometimes people practice dual cultivation as a way to extend their life. It's quite safe, but would be difficult given our relationship."

Dan Heng stares. "What exactly does it entail?"

"Well… it's basically cultivating by having sex. If I slept regularly with an immortal being with highly refined qi, I could probably exchange energy with them and achieve longevity that way." You make a face at the thought. "But it's not exactly easy to find an immortal who'd want a lifelong friend with benefits… and I'd really rather not have sex with anyone other than you, anyway."

It would probably make him miserable.

You're surprised when Dan Heng looks thoughtful, rather than disturbed. He studies you for a long moment, considering.

"Vidyadharas are immortal," he says, "and the qi of a High Elder is much more powerful than that of any other species. Is it not helping that we're already coupling so often?"

"Not really." You reach out across the table, hold out your palm, and he knows to give you his hand. You turn it over, tracing a finger along the length of his wrist. "Dual cultivation with you wouldn't be very useful. You might have extraordinary qi as a Vidyadhara, but it's sealed when you're in your human form."

You feel for the warm glow of his meridians, even though you already know what you'll find—an ordinary, unremarkable life force coursing through his body.

Dan Heng doesn't seem discouraged, though, when you look back up at him. Only curious.

"Then," he says, "what about my dragon form?"

It doesn't end up being very straightforward.

For a full ninety minutes, Dan Heng sits in your room and listens to you discuss the mechanics of dual cultivation, also known traditionally as the 'art of the bedchamber'. As its name would suggest, there are quite a few nuances and technical considerations involved: different positions enhance your qi in different ways; certain acts are more useful than others; mutual pleasure must be attained for the greatest possible benefit.

It isn't just a lecture that you give him. You take out one of your cultivation manuals and show him various diagrams and poses. You whip out your tablet and visit "questionable websites" for "video demonstrations". You quiz him intensively at the end of each unit.

At around the seventy-minute mark, you catalogue Dan Heng's expression—thousand yard stare, stiff posture, red ears—and decide that you're overwhelming him. So you tell him the most important takeaway, which is that one thing he must absolutely do is—

"—finish inside you?"

"Mhm." You sound completely unbothered. "As much as possible. And as many times as possible."

He gives you a long, blank stare, and then crosses his arms. "...all of this is just a ploy to get me to do one of your favourite things in bed, isn't it."

"What? No! I wouldn't lie to you about something like this, Gege!" You're being truthful. Though your sex drive can sometimes drive you to try insane things, it never drives you to be cruel. "I'm being dead serious right now. This really will extend my life. Those cultivation manuals were proof!"

Dan Heng considers you. "You're right. You wouldn't lie about something like this."

"Thank you."

"You're already so shameless about begging for it—I don't think you'd see the need to come up with an excuse."

Wow.

"...okay, yes, but you're also pretty shameless about giving in."

Dan Heng clears his throat, and you try not to laugh. "Well, I've never had a reason not to, since we don't need to worry about pregnancy…" He tries very, very hard to assume some semblance of dignity as he deflects: "Anyway. I think I understand the gist of it. You more or less want me to do the usual things."

"Yes—but while you're in your original form, of course."

"Right." His eyes narrow, and his expression becomes uncertain: something you've only seen a handful of times. "...I do need you to know that taking that shape… complicates things. There is a reason why my powers are usually sealed."

You nod. You've known for a while now that Dan Heng hates invoking his Vidyadhara powers—he considers it as taboo as much as a Xianzhou native would. Truthfully, it did occur to you some time ago that exchanging qi with a dragon would make your cultivation progress leaps and bounds (and speaking even more truthfully, it's why you'd taken an interest in Dan Heng in the first place…), but after learning about how much he despises that form of his, you'd scrapped the whole idea and put it out of mind.

You're surprised that he's even consenting to this, all things considered.

Noticing the tension in his body, you leave your teaching set-up (tablet, an annotated cultivation manual, and smartboard with various stick figures you've drawn) to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know if we have to worry about that. The Alliance only sealed Vidyadhara powers due to historical reasons relating to the Sedition, right?" you try to console him. "Rather than anything to do with your nature in this lifetime, I mean. You aren't inherently dangerous."

You can see the conflict in his eyes; your words run exactly counter to everything he must have heard while imprisoned on the Luofu.

"I don't know," Dan Heng finally says, "but for better or worse, things are still different when I take my true shape. I'm no longer used to it." He frowns a little. "The amount of power feels overwhelming to me now. It's fine in normal circumstances, but—" He struggles for a moment. "...I don't know how I'll behave in… these circumstances with you."

"Ah, I see. You're worried that you won't be able to control yourself while fucking you're me, huh?"

He gives you a disgruntled look. "Do you have to use such crass language?"

"Sorry, Gege. I'll try to speak eloquently like you: Yinyue Jun may fall to his base instincts once he's crossed the threshold of the chrysanthemum gate, right?"

His expression turns from disgruntled to disdainful. Evidently, he's not a fan of your erotica novel slang.

"Please be serious for once. We need to be careful if we do this. I might behave impulsively—do something rash. Accidentally hurt you."

You hum, considering his words. "That's surprising. I thought dragons were generally supposed to be pretty calm and wise…" Then you think about how you couldn't walk this morning. "Though I guess you weren't particularly calm yesterday."

He snorts. "Well, I usually am. Unfortunately, I find it exceptionally hard to control myself around you, with how much you like to provoke me," he says plainly. "It'll just get worse if I switch forms."

You try not to stare at him, shocked at how unbothered he is by these admissions. You suppose that multiple rounds of semi-public sex might have forced him to cross an event horizon of shame, and now his face is finally getting thicker.

"It isn't just my behaviour I'm worried about," he continues. His arms cross again, and his brow furrows. "You might find my form… unattractive. You probably won't like it."

You frown. "I can't imagine that. I bet the real Cold Dragon Young is super handsome."

It's a testament to his anxiety that he hardly reacts to your stupid comment. He just studies you carefully, uncertain. Apprehensive.

"I guess we'll find out."

END PART 1

notes: for those unfamiliar, this fic is set in the same universe as fengyue. fengyue was actually based on this fic, but due to my inability to manage deadlines, it came out way ahead of this LOL

i'm sorry there was no dragonfucking in this part when i have been promising dragonfucking for ages on this blog. but i am 12.5k words into part 2 and i can assure you that there is an excessive amount of incredibly nasty dragonfucking in it, so please look forward to that

this was written way before 1.2 came out (and in fact, before I had even caught up to 1.1 content). hopefully the characterization still holds up ok!

big, big thank you to @petrichorium for helping me navigate canon lore and riffing w me on this piece. please go check out their works, they have banger star rail content!

cultural notes:

cultivation is the practice of using martial and spiritual arts to cultivate one’s qi, gain spiritual powers, and attain immortality

dual cultivation is the act of refining your qi through having sex

I will be honest. I cannot remember the other cultural refs I dropped because I just kind of blindly write them in so please let me know if you have any questions about things LOL

translation notes:

gege is a term meaning "older brother", though it is often used for non-familial relationships that are very close; it can come off as either flirty or childish. heng'er is a diminutive of dan heng's name.

“If paradise is but a dream, then I wish to sleep forever” - this was a reference to the chinese version of dan heng’s ult line. in english, he says “this sanctuary is but a vision”. however, in chinese, he says “洞天幻化，长梦一觉” which is closer to something like “paradise is an illusion, reveals itself to be a long dream”

"The night-blooming cereus flowers only once" - this is how I rendered the idiom "曇花一現", which describes thing that are short-lived

"Human life should be as morning dew" - this is how I rendered the idiom "人生如朝露", which describes the ephemeral nature of human life

yes I really made dan-gege break out the chengyu and poetic speech... I'm not sure how he sounds in english but my man has his super literary moments in chinese haha

[shroomi1e]

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.

— he never meant to fall so hard for you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

pairing. Blade x gn! reader content. gender neutral! reader, mute! reader, reader communicates by sign language, established relationship, Blade being angsty and mean because he’s in denial, domestic setting, the use of the simile ‘like a war widow’ is gender neutral, terrible relationship communication (Blade’s fault), POV switching, depictions of injury

word count – 5.3k

note: Blade is SUCH a simp for [y/n] in this but is in such denial!! seriously i can’t imagine him communicating at all in a relationship. i love this emotionally repressed man so damn much, i can totally fix him (praying the algorithm is nice to this post, unlike my last oneshot 😭)

╰┈➤ requested by: @reiji3

In all the years you had been Blade’s companion, he always found himself surprised at finding you in his home whenever he would return from a mission. He still could not understand what incited you to stay with him, or in his home. 

It was not a particularly nice place; it was dingy, small, and someone had certainly been murdered in the bathroom, but for the likes of him, such trivial material things did not hold much importance. So long as he had a place to sleep and to heal, he would make do. That was until you came prancing into his life. You had turned his hovel into a home, turned it into a place that he did not dread coming home to, alone. 

Blade’s clothes were in tatters, shredded away alongside large chunks of his flesh. Deep scratches had torn away the skin on his back; each movement his powerful muscles made as he walked sent pain ricocheting along his nerves, blossoming into throbbing flowers. He clenched his jaw, locking it in place like a secret. 

Blood oozed from his wounds, cascading down his body as if it were a crimson waterfall. His ripped tailcoat was stained a deep red; there was no use in trying to salvage these clothes, no matter how hard he knew you would insist. Some things were just better thrown away. Dark rings circled his eyes, shadowing the contrasted alertness of his piercing red gaze. He trudged into his gloomy home, the prospect of resting his aching limbs calling out to him like sweet nectar. 

A strong aroma of stew wafted along from the kitchen, leading Blade towards you like a treasure map. You had drawn open the blinds enabling sunlight to drip through the murky windows, highlighting the dust motes that floated in the air like starlight. The table was set, at its centre you had replaced the wilted carcasses of the spider-lilies with fresh ones – his favourite flower. And to the left of the table, your back turned to him, stood you. Preoccupied with your cooking, you did not notice Blade’s arrival until he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled your body close to his. Your cheeks heated as he dragged his lips along your neck, his hot breath sending shivers in their wake. Being this close to him, you could smell the coppery stench of blood clinging to him like death was his second lover. 

Blade’s heart was contained in an impenetrable fortress. But the moment he stepped through the door, he shed those fortified walls like a snakeskin, pulling you into his arms and refusing to let go of you usually until the meal you were cooking burned. He was like a vicious, caged animal, imprisoned inside a body he did not ask for, nor one he wanted to sustain. Only with you did he feel like he was temporarily free from the fetters that bound him to existence. You made him feel free, as if he were in his natural habitat. 

Although, whenever Kafka would ask, Blade would always emphasise how he was not in love with you. That this was a temporary arrangement that benefited both parties until Blade could meet his eventual, long awaited end. 

“If you say so, Bladie,” Kafka would always say, her honey-sweet voice oozing with amusement at his emotional turmoils. His lips would always curl into a sneer at her words, and Blade would return to sharpening his sword. 

You shifted around in his grasp so that your chests were pressed against each other, faces only inches apart as you faced each other. The fatigue on his face was evident, but he wore his expression of endurance and stoicism like a mask. Over the years you had been together, though, it had slowly eroded for you, enabling you to read your secretive boyfriend progressively better. There were many cracks in his visor, failing to conceal an innate fragility that threatened to consume him. 

Smiling up at him, you started signing. 

“I’ve made you your favourite!” Blade noticed how your eyes wavered towards his highly dishevelled appearance, widening infinitesimally with ill-hidden concern. He nodded slightly, relinquishing you from his vice-like hold. You seemed to not notice the droplets of blood that trailed across your clothes and apron like stars in the sky – to someone looking in on this domestic scene, they would have just thought it was ink. Maybe you did not care. 

You looked up at him. 

“Shouldn’t you go and wash up?” 

“I’ll do so later.” He signed back. For some reason Blade didn’t want to tell you that in the past he had often come home in far worse condition. He didn’t want to see your brow crease with worry for him – you already had enough to worry about, with or without him. 

Interlacing your smaller hand with his bandaged one, you led Blade towards his assigned seat and, placing your other hand on his shoulder, gently eased him into his seat. He never failed to marvel at how soft your little hands were by comparison to his scarred, calloused ones. 

You then skipped to the stove and carried the steaming pot towards the table. Without even considering his injuries, Blade quickly ascended and strode over to you, taking the pot from your hands and taking it to the table. 

He grimaced as one of the gashes in his side twisted from his sudden movement. Your mouth hung open slightly, eyes wide like that of a doe – an undeniably cute expression. Blade chuckled slightly. Quickly, you drew your composure like a curtain and, grabbing two plates, started to dish out the stew you had prepared. 

His stomach churned at the mouth watering scent of the stew. When out on missions, Blade did not just disregard his body, but also his appetite. Perhaps, deep down, he knew that you would always make up for his lack of eating whenever he would come home from missions by showering him with your cooking. Blade stared down at the bowl as he waited for it to cool, and then back up at you. His tired heart lurched when your eyes met; you regarded him with such tenderness that you could have moulded stone like putty. Your countenance softened.

“Is everything okay, Blade?” 

“I’m fine,” he replied softly. 

When you were with him he was more than fine. With you, his penchant for death’s sweet embrace seemed a little less intense – less of an all-consuming obsession and rather an itch that needed to be scratched. But itches could be ignored, with enough will. You were more important–

A deep frown settled onto Blade’s brow, his ruby eyes burning holes into the dented, warped, table. You paused mid-spoonful as you saw your boyfriend bristle, body tensing up as if he had just been struck by some invisible blow. Suddenly Blade stood up, invisible strings of fate pulling him up and dragging him out of the house as he stormed off. He shoved his hands in his pockets, the sweltering vexation wavering from him almost palpable. You rose, trailing after him, but in spite of his injuries hindering his movements, Blade was out of the door before you could reach him. The door slammed shut in your face. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Blade had no recollection of just how long he had been walking. Aimless and thoughtless, he charged forwards like he was going to battle – although the enemy was unknown. Was it you? You made him feel. Or was it him? For letting himself fall for you. No. He would not think about it. He refused to. 

Having retreated to the furthest confines of his mind, the world passed Blade as a blur. By the time he came to, the sun’s authority over the world diminished as its bright rays began to falter and fade, falling victim to the incoming nighttime. Everything was poised in perfect suspension between night and day in the incoming twilight. Clouds swirled across the sky, dusted pink and amber by the sunset. Towards the horizon, the sky bled magenta; Blade knew that you would be marvelling at the sight, and for a moment he wished he were there to see the awe-stricken expression, the beauty of the twilight amplified through its reflection in your eyes. 

Blade clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He kept on walking. 

His wounds stung, the pain proliferating with each passing minute. Without being addressed, they were more than likely to grow infected. But at this point in time Blade could not care less. He just kept walking, directionless. 

Tempestuous thoughts invaded him, probing at his shattered peace of mind. They unlocked the parts of his labyrinthine consciousness that he had held under lock and key for so damn long. The part of him that he had ensured remained imprisoned; for so long, he had succeeded in being his own jailer. Until you. Slowly, he was unravelling. Blade was coming undone because of you.

He didn’t know what to feel, how to feel. It had been so long since his heart had been opened that its hinges were so rusty they were almost arthritic, shrieking with pain from the aperture. The opening had unleashed a torrent of emotion that, for one who had been so emotionally repressed for so long, drowned him in its sweeping currents. 

He hated the way he was the centre of your world. The way you looked at him like he was soft instead of all hardened edges, eyes brimming with pure, unconditional affection. Why were you not afraid? You should fear him; he would ruin you, tarnish you. Centuries of adversity and suffering had transformed Blade into a weapon, forged in the infernal furnace of life. Now, his body was no better than steel, dripping with malice. Yet you continued to find the beauty in his cracks, planting flowers between them and watching them bloom in your presence. Instead of finding the ugliness in his scars, you found the beauty in them. 

Out of all the mysteries of the cosmos, you were certainly the greatest one. 

When did he even fall for you? Blade had been so careful. This was supposed to be provisional, a temporary remedy for his depraved soul. Although Blade had pledged his entire hateful existence to Elio, his body still had certain needs, which he had found you to fulfil. Your cool touch doused the flames that rampaged within him, so fervent that his rage could engulf a city in an inferno. Your tender kisses made him forget the memories that coiled themselves around his scarred limbs like chains, dragging him down to the umbral pits of despair.

 Just at the thought of you, his body began to shake – a visceral yearning to find himself in the comfort of your embrace. Blade wanted to be as far away from you as possible, but his heart was now inextricably bound to you. As his true North, you called to him, pulling him in your direction like a magnet. The question: was Blade ready to surrender his heart to you, to openly admit his attachment to you? 

He never meant to fall for you. Was this what Elio had meant when he said that unexpected complications would arise in his life? He was already Destiny’s Slave. He didn't want to become a slave to his heart. 

Slowly, like the petals of a flower unfurling, Blade grew accustomed to your company. Even liked it, actually. Your smile slowly thawed his frozen heart, your words soothed his tormented soul. You were his anchor during the storms that being mara-struck confronted him with. Even when the skies were completely suffocated by the menacing army of black clouds, when the thunder would roll, trampling anything in its path as the mara induced a rabid frenzy in Blade, you sat beside him, a sentinel watching over him in the darkness. Together you would wait out the storm. You never relinquished his hand as you awaited the clear skies to return. Although you could not speak, your touch spoke volumes. 

Blade could not deny that learning how to sign for you was challenging. But, since you had been so accepting of his predicament, he gritted his teeth and learned your language with unfaltering resolve. As a man of few words, there was something innately relieving about not needing to speak in order to communicate. He appreciated, though, that were he unable to speak, he might have thought differently. 

He struggled with expressing himself, especially with words, but he knew how much you adored listening to his deep, quiet voice, so would often talk to you into the night, knowing very well that he was speaking for the both of you. 

When you would lie down on the roof of your apartment, eyes fixed onto the heavens, Blade could never help but betray his promise of stargazing with you. While you were transfixed on the sprinkling of stars across the velvet night sky, lambent and brilliant like tiny gemstones, Blade’s unwavering gaze would be on you. Beneath the moonlight’s pale strokes of light, you looked positively ethereal. Your skin glimmered like it was coated in layers upon layers of stardust; while you looked up at the stars, Blade found himself looking at his own star, his light during the witching hour: you. 

He hated how much he had come to depend on you. These days, Blade could never leave the house without first embracing you, as if you were a good luck charm without which his endeavours would surely fail spectacularly. 

While he longed for death, his heart also churned at the thought of leaving you behind, all alone like a war widow. Before you, he would have waltzed into the afterlife with Death as his dance partner; now, he was not so sure. The urge to die persisted of course, but you had planted the seeds of doubt within him that were beginning to take root, the blooming petals suffocating his lungs, his heart. You were truly infectious, ailing his body more so than the mara. 

He hated you for what you had made him feel. He loved you so goddamn much it hurt, more so than any wound ever inflicted on him. With you Blade was raw, vulnerable. He was unaccustomed to existing without the armour he had donned for so many centuries, that which protected him from the anguishes of life. Of love. His heart rattled against his chest, unaccustomed to such emotions. He wondered if this was what would finally kill him; feeling again. Blade was a warrior; you were the first battle he wanted to flee from. And yet, being away from you felt like a dagger being driven into his heart

Blade’s walking suddenly ceased as he stopped in his tracks. Beside the canal by which he walked, on the small promenade, stood a tiny flower stall. It housed a jungle of flora, many of which Blade had never seen before. He could not help but be impressed by the sheer amount of the different varieties there were – Blade would have never even stopped to admire the flora if you had not been in his life. Usually, he would not have cared for such ephemeral things as flowers. The spectrum of colour the stall’s flowers provided contrasted the festering shadows, a final defence against the oncoming nightfall. 

His aching body urged him towards the stall before he could even think things through. He was spurred forwards only by the knowledge of how much you loved flowers. Perhaps this was the store from which you always brought the flowers you used to brighten up his home? The owner, an aged woman wearing gardening clothes, was just packing up for the day when she heard his approaching footsteps. Fear flickered in her eyes, like a candle flame, when she looked up at him. Clearly someone had seen the IPC’s wanted posters. Her smile was contrived, an emblem of the fear his presence normally imposed on people. 

“How may I help you, sir?” The woman cowered beneath his sharp glare, shielding herself behind the immense number of plant pots stacked upon the stall counter. 

“I’m just looking,” Blade grumbled, voice cold enough to make hell freeze over. And that was true. He was not entirely sure why he was here. Maybe his heart had pulled him towards the closest vestige of you that was in fact not you. He hated how he wanted to be so close to you, yet so far at the same time. 

Blade regarded the flowers, scanning them all intently. None seemed to be a good enough amendment for the way he had just stormed out on you. Perhaps he should buy you some – that was, if he even went home that night. Blade had no money on him, but he was already so morally foregone that he did not mind having to steal the flowers for you. Then again, he could imagine the look on your face if you ever found out. 

In the time he had spent looking at the flowers, Blade had not noticed the owner dialling her phone, nor the squadron of IPC officers that arrived shortly after. This was the effect you had on him. His senses, perfectly honed into a deadly point by years’ of fighting, had blurred, encompassed only by thoughts of you. You had reverted him from being a lethal weapon back into a man, with a heart. 

It was only when rough hands clasped his shoulders that his fighting instinct ignited within him. His hand found the hilt of his sword, only, Blade found himself wishing that it was your hand he was holding instead. A deep frown penetrated his stony face. He drew his sword, whirling round with vicious precision as he sliced at the officer’s chest. Blood spurted from the wound, and he staggered backwards. He threw himself into the fray, glad for the excuse to not think about you. 

Blade was a weapon, and combat followed him like his own bloody shadow. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Blade did not return home that night. He was probably wandering the world like a lost spirit, while you lay alone in your shared bed. Anxiety clawed at your insides. Not even holding Blade’s pillow close to you, inhaling his familiar scent, could quell the gut-wrenching feeling of trepidation. What if he did not come back? That caused your grip on the pillow to tighten. You thought of the pot of stew that was still on the table, the empty plate you had left out for him – just in case he came home and was hungry. 

The clock ticked away, marking the passing hours since Blade’s departure. The steady ticking of the time starkly juxtaposed the hammering of your heart, your shallow breaths. You knew that Blade was more than capable of looking after himself – he had done so for centuries – but your stomach churned at the thought of him out there, roaming the streets like some vicious stray dog. You hoped that Blade was not angry, as destruction would trail behind in his wake. As someone unable to speak, you knew that actions spoke volumes, more than words ever could; and Blade’s actions? They were like a roar of contempt to the world that made him suffer so much… and to you. 

When the door was slammed in your face, it was like the swift stroke of a guillotine being brought down upon your heart. You knew you weren’t supposed to feel so deeply for Blade; he had specifically told you at the beginning of your partnership to not catch feelings for him. But the heart wants what the heart wants, and yours wanted Blade, scars and all. His heart was something forbidden, closed off from you. And that made you covet Blade’s even more. But it had escalated too far, your greed. 

You had tried so hard to be a homemaker that you had inadvertently backed Blade into a corner, and like a wild animal he bared his teeth and lashed out at you, claws unleashed. Tears pricked your eyes. You couldn’t help the way you felt. How in spite of all his evident flaws, your soul sang whenever you were together. You felt heard by him; with Blade, you had a voice. In a world filled with uncertainty and danger, he made you feel safe – after all, that was one of your main reasons for becoming his partner, before you became unconditionally, irrevocably, in love with him. 

Sleep came at you in waves, yet whenever you closed your eyes, it eluded you like some apparition. Not even the pillow would suffice tonight. Yet, you did not relinquish it. For all you knew, this could be the last remnant of Blade in your life. You had seen the way his expression darkened at dinner earlier, how something far worse than a storm brewed behind his feral eyes. You only hoped that it would come to pass with the rising of the sun, and Blade would be back tomorrow morning like nothing had happened. 

Were it anybody except Blade, you would inquire as to what bothered him. But Blade… he was less communicative than you were, and he actually had a voice he could use! You had never pushed him to come out of the shell which he had carved for himself, that which had been weathered away by the seas of time –  thus he had retreated further and further within. How you longed to pry him out of it, to read his heart, but clearly your actions that evening had clearly hit a vulnerable spot, evoked something that he had hidden away. The display of your love causing him to retreat from you. You knew Blade was untamable like the sea, a beast in the guise of a man, but a part of you had hoped that your presence could have gentled him. Perhaps he was inherently unadaptable to the quiet life of domesticity you led. 

You pulled the covers closer to yourself, a fruitless attempt to make up for the embrace Blade would cocoon you in as you slept together. Hopefully, sleep would submerge you in its deep waters soon. As you slowly drifted off to sleep, you found yourself dreaming of Blade. 

The sound of the door swinging open snatched you from the peaceful realm of sleep and dreams. You discarded your fatigue, eyes snapping open the second you heard the door shut. Slow, precise, footsteps ascended the stairs, the rhythm indicating that it was none other than Blade. As the door to your room inched open, a slither of light pierced the darkness of the early morning. Through half-closed eyes, you watched Blade’s tall silhouette enter the room, his normally powerful movements silent and feline. You squeezed your eyes shut, feigning sleep. Thankfully, in the darkness, Blade seemed not to notice. 

He opened the closet, presumably taking out some fresh clothes to replace his ruined ones. However, his shuffling soon stopped. You were not ready to alert him of your being awake, so you kept your eyes closed, and waited. 

Blade watched your dormant form, at the slow rise and fall of your chest. You were the perfect image of serenity, while he was gory and dishevelled. Something felt inherently wrong about intruding on your sanctuary after having killed all those IPC officers. Just his presence cast a shadow over your purity. Blood dripped onto the floor; while most of it was certainly Blade’s, he was sure that some of it was mingled with the innocent blood he had spilled that night. 

Dawn was beginning to inch its way across the sky, sending fingers of light through the closed curtains of your bedroom. A new day was being marked, yet Blade felt far from renewed. His eyes were heavy, his body host to a score of different, yet collaborating agonies that made every step towards the bathroom feel like he was walking on a path littered with daggers. 

As the bathroom door closed behind him, your eyes opened once more. You had not missed the coppery scent of blood that Blade had dragged inside with him, and you hoped that he had not injured himself further. Blade had looked like he was being held up by the strings of unwanted emotion, a puppet to the heart that he was so tired of hearing beating. You truly hoped that he was okay, that his thoughts were not devouring his state of being to rawness. 

Ignoring your heavy limbs, your body yearning to go back to sleep, you climbed out of your bed and got up. You tip-toed with every step, not wanting to alert Blade of your arousal as you descended the stairs. After being out for so long, you reckoned the last thing he had thought of was food, so you went to the kitchen to make him something to eat. Were it not for you, his body would have most certainly decayed from neglect. 

From downstairs, you could hear the hot water tank stir into action, and the loud stream of water that followed. 

Blade stripped himself of his ruined clothes and, standing before the foggy mirror, was confronted by the extent of his injuries, many of which would join the gallery of scars adorned by his skin. Bruises were scattered across his body like kisses, accompanied by varying scrapes and scratches. Then there were the deeper wounds. Despite having constantly borne witness to his injured state – with many instances having been worse than how he was today – Blade still averted his eyes. 

You were never disgusted by the wounds Blade returned home with, nor with his scars that haunted his body like his own personal army of ghosts.

“They’re a testament to your strength” you had told him one time, when you were bandaging a particularly nasty wound on his chest. Sometimes, he felt like you were more of his nurse than a partner. He knew you could do better than him. 

With your beauty, alluring charm, you would find no difficulty in finding another partner. One who was more present, one who actually had the courage to embrace their feelings. But the truth was he never wanted to see you with someone else. He was loath to admit it, but you were meant to be by his side. Yes, had his life durated its normal course, the two of you would have never even met – but perhaps in his cruel fate, were you a gift to appease the dire pains of immortality? He gritted his teeth and began to tend to his wounds. 

Blade cast aside his thoughts just as he had done with his clothes and stepped into the shower, relishing the cool water against his burning skin. Maybe, if he washed himself enough, he could cleanse himself of all his sins and finally be good enough for you. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

In all the years you had been Blade’s companion, he had never seen you up so early before. He had purposefully gone downstairs instead of to your shared bedroom, with the intention of not waking you. It seems his best intentions failed, for you smiled softly at him from the couch on which you sat. His muscles tensed, brain instilling a fight-or-flight response in him. Blade had absolutely no idea what to do or say around you; any thought of action evaded his mind. But from the way you looked at him through long-lashed eyes stirred Blade. He clenched his jaw and walked into the kitchen. Behind him, there was shuffling as you got to your feet and followed him into the kitchen silently. 

Hearing your footsteps was like flint to steel, igniting the final ounce of patience Blade had attempted to muster. 

“Stop following me,” he snapped, words laced with venom. They struck home, for you recoiled, as if pricked by the poisoned fangs of his words. Your footsteps stopped. Blade pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. His limbs shook slightly from the pent up frustration that threatened to consume him like a raging inferno. You were so quiet, he was not sure if you had gone or not. Blade glanced over his shoulder. 

Your silence perturbed him, as it made your expressions all the more powerful. There was a look of quiet understanding in your eyes – no words were needed, the look you gave him said everything that needed to be said. Your lip quivered, droplets of tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you signed, “I can’t help but love you.” 

Blade’s heart broke into a million pieces while also being simultaneously made whole again – a true cycle of death and rebirth. What had remained unsaid for so long by both of you was finally out in the open, no longer lurking in the backstage of your relationship. 

The words he so desired to say lodged themselves in his throat. Even if his body had not prevented him from speaking, it would have been impossible to express how he was feeling with words alone. So, he took several strides towards you, took your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. 

This kiss was different to the way he usually kissed you; usually he was voracious, devouring your lips with an urgent hunger that spoke of his depravity of human contact, of how he had been isolated from another person for oh so long. What usually involved biting, dominance and force melted into something soft, like the sea rounding away the jagged edges of stones. In this kiss, you witnessed something inherently different about Blade. The tension in his chest eased as he relinquished his hold over emotions, allowing all the love and affection he felt towards you to swallow him whole, imbuing him with a new sense of purpose. To be yours. 

He kissed you slowly, tenderly, each movement charged with so many things that Blade had left unsaid for far too long. One of his hands found the back of your head, pushing your face closer to his, as if the little distance between you was unbearable as it was. Blade loved you. He loved you so damn much. Your lips moved alongside his, quietly listening to everything they had to say; a profession of love. As you kissed, a new realm of understanding was reached – the final paving of what bridged the chasm between you being laid. You were his true North, and he never wanted to stop kissing you, his lips fixed onto yours with magnetic force. 

His lips lingered against yours for one final moment before finally, Blade pulled away from you. You looked up at him through your lashes, eyes wide with surprise. Red creeped up your face like crimson vines, and Blade found himself thinking that was a much better form of red to see, rather than blood. Blade did not relinquish his cupping of your cheek; with his thumb, we wiped away the tears that fell like drops of starlight down your flushed cheeks. 

“I’m the one who should be sorry, [y/n],” he murmured, his lowered voice sending shivers through your body, “I love you.” His lips curled into the fragment of a smile as he spoke. Having discarded all of his internal strife that weighed down on him like the earth, a look of utter tranquillity had swept over his face, the rigidity of his posture dissipating – finally, Blade was at ease. 

You wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him close and burying your face in his bandaged chest. Blade returned the embrace, placing his head in the crook of your neck, body melting into your touch. Relief’s hands pried away his agitated state, but not his guilt – Blade still had much to work on to make up for the way he had acted. That could wait. A lifetime spread out before you both, a whole universe at your disposal. 

With you, Blade could relinquish the spite he had welded into a shield, protecting him from all the years of strife. With you, he could finally be vulnerable. Now, just being in your arms was more than enough for him. An eternity of suffering almost came undone entirely just by your bodies being close together. Finally, Blade had accepted his treacherous heart. 

© bladesmuse 2023 - do not copy, repost or translate my writing

[shroomi1e]

Sinner

[shroomi1e]

so-called free thinkers when there's a 2d fictional man with white hair

[shroomi1e]

Miggy🚗🚗

[shroomi1e]

my guilty pleasure fics are the ones where the guy turns into a cat somehow and then u pick it up thinking it’s a stray and take care of it for a while and then boom one day a hot guy that may or may not be ur boss or neighbor or wtv is naked in ur bed snuggling you

[shroomi1e]

❝ hsr masterlist ❞

honkai star rail headcanons

attractive ways they pull you closer / get your attention ( sampo + jing yuan + gepard + blade )