#Honkai Star Rail Fluff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepynoons · 12 hours ago

Text

Under the Same Sky

Mydeimos and you are husband and wife. In ancient China, where the heavens and earth exist in the same dimension, your husband slays beasts and demons to protect the Emperor and the Holy Nation. You, yourself, are closely related to divinity, though it is a relationship you wish to abandon, because the heavenly forces have only wished the worst upon you. And it seems nothing has changed, when the divine wants to destroy your and Mydei's relationship.

mydei x afab!f!reader, chinese mythology!au, nsfw

word count: ~17,400

cw: angst/slight comfort, minor character death, religious/spiritual imagery/themes/depictions, graphic descriptions of violence/blood/death, unprotected sex, marking kink, a singular instance of a blood kink, undertones of codependency, unintended phainon slander (truly just for the plot)

notes: to my beloved beta, @staraxiaa, i love you. truly. you have such a beautiful mind and an unmatched cadence to your words. thank you for all that you do for me, and this piece would not have come out of the vault without your encouragement and advice.

to readers, would soo appreciate reblogs, comments, and tags on this piece! i always put a bit of my soul in my writing, but truly, as a chinese person myself, this fic is especially special in my heart. i may post an author's note (update: you can find my thoughts here), but for now, i hope you are able to walk away from this piece knowing a bit about my heritage, culture, and mythology, though there may be several historical inaccuracies LOL

Everyone in the village knows Mydeimos loves you and you love Mydeimos. In particular, the elders, those who often sit under the weeping willows at noon and fan themselves with their cheap linen imitations of the gongshan, laugh amongst themselves about the blush that had blossomed on Mydeimos’ face with your first appearance and has never left since, until the faint outlines of their grandchildren appear on the border between the horizon and the flat earth. Because who could believe that their village chief, a figure of authority and demand – though a son he will forever be remembered as in the villagers’ eyes and memories – would ever look so pathetically adorable. But at this point, it is not a question anymore, moreso a teasing remark the people make in the presence of their adored chief.

And you, a girl of an unknown origin, from another collective li and li away, have also become a beloved member of this village. Even if you were not Mydeimos’ wife, your kindly manner, speaking always with a warming wisp of a smile, and the gentle curve of your upturned palm have won over the hearts of the villagers here.

It is clear to everyone that, by the decree of the heavenly gods above and their kindred spirits down on this earth in the forms of the water, leaves, wind, and destiny, that you and Mydeimos are for each other, to always be intertwined and inseparable in this vast, vast universe.

–

My love.

Mydei – just Mydei in your presence – twitches in his sleep, the magnetic pull of your voice coming from somewhere between the depths of his half-conscious, sleepy haze and the echoes from the four sun-stricken brick walls of your shared bedroom. You tantalize him already, when he has so much to do, so much to worry, so much to protect. After all, being one of the Emperor’s generals is no casual title, and one can tell because all he can boast about is the long hours of never-ending work and the deplorably large number of men he had to send to the infirmary the other day for they all lacked strength comparable to his. Indeed, he has much to be concerned about, yet in the spare moments of tranquility he is granted in the early morning, he allows himself to bask in both the warmth from the dawn sunlight that streams through the bamboo folding screens and radiates from your lulling tone.

Mydei.

He blinks awake, your silhouette discerned with more clarity with each closing and opening. You are holding the blanket up to your chest with one arm, while your other reaches over to stroke his hair, straightening out strands that have splayed themselves across his forehead, intermingling with the lengths of his eyelashes and paralleling the cut of his jawline.

You will be late.

Displeased at your reminder, he grunts and leans into your palm, the shape of it meant to caress and cradle his cheek. You do not make any noticeable reaction, except for the slight lifts at the corners of your lips. And you let him assume control of your hand, relinquish your time as well, so that you can connect with him before he sets off for another long day at work. Though work is never just work for someone as noble as Mydei, as even the trek to the Palace is fraught with danger, where assassins and mercenaries can be prowling in the shadows, waiting for the right timing to strike, attack, kill your lover, the chief of a village a slight ways away from the Capital, a general to the Emperor and this Holy Nation.

Mydei then cups one of his hands over yours, and sits up with your fingers interlaced. With a quick glance, he is sated and actually smirks at the marks that bruise, bloom, and flourish across the delicate skin of your shoulders and neck. He leans over to kiss a spot that is undoubtedly the most stubborn of them all, the last that will fade from remembrance.

I know. I am on my way now.

And, without another word, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets up to stride over to the washroom. You watch from your position, eyes lingering over the hardened and muscled build of his legs, the jagged scars that etch themselves into the broad scope of his back and sides, and the tanned lines that have begun to form on his arms, a sign that the height of spring has arrived. You wait until he has left the room to release a pleased hum before you, too, stretch and prepare yourself for your day.

In the courtyard, it is more than obvious that spring has fully encompassed the Holy Nation. The magnolia buds are green, hurried and eager in their pursuit for growth, and the scent of damp soil has begun to dissipate from the lack of overnight snow and frost. A young female servant, a recent addition to your handful of helpers, speaks in rapid, excited breaths as she serves you powdered cakes in bite-sized pieces and pours oolong tea into a brown porcelain cup, reciting news about the Emperor’s several princes she had overheard when she went to the market earlier today. You cannot help but chuckle as the servant takes a seat beside you, her arms propped up on the table with her face resting on her fist, humming as any young girl in love would. It just so happens that your head maid comes over at this moment and scolds the younger one.

Get up! Where are your manners? Apologize!

You simply wave them both off and ask the young servant to continue her relay. After all, she is not of age yet, so she can only daydream, and who are you to not indulge in such whimsies. She tells you of the second youngest prince, one of three in her generation, and she fantasizes of colliding into him in the streets as he makes an escape from the Capital. It is no surprise that the prince, along with all nine of his royal brothers, are mischievous, something that many Daoist priestesses have foretold as they ventured in and out of the Palace, prophecies that trace back even before the births of many of the Emperor’s sons. Yet the young servant’s fantasies are far too exaggerated and dependent on coincidence to ever materialize, so after a while, you begin to ask her other questions.

How are this season’s harvests? Are there murmurings of strife and conflict along the Northern border? Are the rabbits back?

She responds accordingly: seasonal goods, such as green peas and plums, seem to be more expensive and sparse than last year; no outbreaks so far, and people are anticipating a peaceful year ahead; the rabbits have begun to leave their burrows! In fact, regarding that last point, the servant urges you to finish your tea faster so you can visit the babies, and despite the exasperated protests from your head lady-in-waiting, you gulp the last dregs of your drink, bits of loose tea leaves included, before gathering your dress into your fists and rushing out of the pavilion.

Rabbits are cautious creatures. They are aware of their disadvantages and their being on the bottom of the food chain. And while this village that you have become a part of and that Mydei grew up in has long taken root in this region of the Holy Nation, the local flora and fauna have yet to fully adapt to the presence and caprices of humans. Where you are from, it is quite the opposite, in that the people of your origin have learned to assimilate with this earth, rather than the other way around. Where you are from, the rabbits are not afraid to come out of their burrows and shallow mounds to peer curiously – fearlessly – at their human neighbors.

As you and the young servant approach a lush corner of the courtyard, your steps decrease in stride and bumbling excitement. Instead, the two of you tread with silent passes, almost as if you were rabbits yourselves. And when the two of you make it to the edge of the walkway, you stand still and hold your breaths, waiting earnestly for even the most fleeting of a glimpse of the animals.

Since your youth, you have had a talent for disappearing, in the most neutral sense possible. With ease that a person of ego cannot bear to imagine or replicate, you are capable of shedding off all and any attachments you have to your person and melding into the sways of the wind, the humming of the bees, the thrums of the soil beneath your feet. You showed this ability of yours to Mydei before, albeit unintentionally. It was happenstance, something you had done out of habit when he had taken you out for a stroll along a manmade pond near the east end of the Capital and you were trying to feed a pair of restless magpies. You were only shaken out of your illusory state from the grounding pressure of his hand against your shoulder blade.

With an ability like that, you could easily conceal yourself and become an assassin.

You shrugged in response because, unlike him, there is no obligation for you to pursue the art or administration of death, and you figure you will never have to either.

This is all to say that, had it not been for the chirp of excitement from your lady-in-waiting, the rabbits would have approached you out of sheer intrigue. And as quickly as they shuffled out of their home, their grey and white whiskers and fluff ruffling in the breeze, their beady eyes take note of you and your servant before they recede back to safety. Your lady-in-waiting sighs with palpable adoration and lovesickness, and you promise her that there will be another chance tomorrow.

For the rest of the morning, you eat a quick breakfast under a pagoda, admiring the jasmine blossoms that flourish around the circumference, before making way to your fitting. Fittings only occur when special occasions are imminent, and with a banquet at the Palace in celebration of the fourth prince’s birthday occurring in two weeks, your other ladies-in-waiting have brought back several robes from the market for you to try on, no doubt on Mydei’s orders. There is a generous collection of blush, cream, and sunshine brocade and linen that await you, and as you dress and undress, tie and untie, spin and spin, it is unanimously agreed upon by all of your attendants that nothing will be returned. There is also a tray that holds various accessories, most notably a tasteful amalgamation of embroidered fans and gold-accented jinbu, and those are all kept as well. Of course, upon realizing that all of these valuables are yours and yours only, you pass on a message to one of Mydei’s servants to also visit the market with expectations of purchasing new cords for your husband’s hair, as well as a replacement for his worn yudai.

Then, it is lunch, but you tend to spend this time with the other villagers. With a parasol in one hand and a basket of tangerines and dried dates in the other, you head to the edge of the village, accompanied by two guards for formality’s sake. At the perimeter, where brick walls intercept a wide, trodden path, there are several benches and tables so that both residents and travelers alike can rest. When you first arrived, you, too, sat down here, gulping down a flask of water as you observed the hustle and bustle – not as busy as the Capital, but festive enough to indicate decent business and progress.

The elders and a few mothers already present greet you with dips of their chin. Usually, citizens are to greet those of nobility or high-ranking government positions with strict curtsies and bows, and while Mydei insists on the custom in speech, he does not uphold this rule quite as stringently. The reason for your visits are twofold: to know your people and to gather information. Though you have not yet born descendants of your and Mydei’s own, you have come to realize that children have sharp ears and loose mouths, fervent in their interminable search for entertainment and delight. The village is close enough for children to pursue education in the Capital if their parents so wished, so until many of them return, you pass your time underneath the arching path of the sun exchanging pleasantries and discussing matters.

By the time the little ones return, the sun is bathed in orange gold, half-concealed by the mountains you had once traversed, and there are but a few of the fruits remaining, just enough to quench their parched throats. As children do, they clamor to their respective guardians, complaining about the heat and how they are so sweaty and tired that there is no conceivable way they can continue to study later tonight. They also recognize you, and with a lightheartedness that more often occurs between friends of the same generation, they whine for your treats. You laugh as you hand the last pieces out, as you would when feeding cabbage bits to rabbits.

Upon your return home, the moon already having replaced the sun as the night’s guardian, you dismiss your guards, so you can bathe while the rest of the household eats. You much prefer solitude when you are in a vulnerable state, and your ladies-in-waiting are no exception to this preference, even if they are no stranger to a woman’s body. Sat on a stool, you strip yourself, letting all the layers collapse in a disheveled pile, and remove any pins and beaded strings from your hair. By now, your servants have become familiar with your ways, so there is already steaming water in the bronze bathtub, so you directly step in and submerge yourself up until your neck.

The hot water is not very pleasant against your warm skin, but you stay regardless, as spring evenings can still be unforgiving and biting. You watch as the water sloshes against the solid walls of the tub, causing the steam to waver before resuming its vertical ascendance, and do nothing even when a few splashes escape and drip down the exterior. After all, this time is allotted for you to think, nothing more. Your thoughts are preoccupied with declining trade with farmers outside of the Capital, many citing long-lasting droughts and fires as primary culprits, and there have been a sharp incline of those suffering from heat strokes and asthma. Some have even mentioned hallucinations of more than a single sun in the sky, and while you are not one to be affected by superstitious or mythical stories, you do find it odd that there have been multiple accounts of such a phenomenon from various distinct folks. These are pieces of information you must report to Mydei, though it is too early to draw any actionable conclusions.

You arise from your bath half an hour later, when the water has simmered down to a lukewarm. You dry yourself, adorn a simple beige gown with a matching robe over it, and make your way to the kitchen. By the moon’s position, if all goes smoothly, your husband should return in about two hours, more than enough for you to prepare his dinner.

Although you are not obligated to cook, you have sensed Mydei’s hesitation when it comes to consuming food that is prepared by those he is unfamiliar with. He trusts you and the villagers, but many of your household’s servants are from the Capital or elsewhere. Therefore, for both his sanity and safety, you have taken on the responsibility to provide him meals so that he may eat in peace at home. Besides, it is also an opportunity for the two of you to simply be together.

Just as you have set the last plate onto the dining table, Mydei returns, lamellar plates thunking and chain mail jostling with every heavy step he takes. It is a heaviness that resounds in your heart, for it is a reflection of his fatigue and, more importantly, the weight of the responsibilities he bears.

He does not come to greet you, not yet. He does not like appearing in front of you with his armor still on. He wants to avoid bringing in the stench of blood and grief into this abode he shares with you – does not want to taint you, his person of comfort and solace, with the violence you have no desire to take part in. Though, try as he might, deep down he knows it is to no avail, as his hands, the same ones he uses to touch and feel you, are already stained with death.

In the small shed, surprisingly compact and spare for a master of many weapons, he shrugs everything off with laborious groans. As each weighted iron slab and scratchy sheet of chain mail drops to the ground, Mydei lavishes in the slow regain of freedom in his movement. Lastly, he pulls off his helmet, and with a quick rub of his sleeve against a permanent smudge, he sets it on top of a drawer that contains duplicates of his uniform, first aid, and short daggers. He does not linger, and instead, swivels around to head to where you are.

When Mydei rounds the corner to stand in front of the kitchen entrance, double doors swung wide open, he cannot help but pause in his tracks, just a few paces away from joining you at the table in the center of the room. You peer at him from your seat, your chin resting in a divot formed by your palms, and also observe him, his face shrouded in shadows.

It is not so much a staring contest as it is a reverent yearning for one another. For no reason at all, it seems the two of you have a habit of practicing restraint – hesitation – before allowing yourselves to indulge in each other.

Come sit beside me.

I will. Let me admire you first.

And so you wait.

From Mydei’s perspective, you are the most beautiful at this time of the night. It is not to say that you are not in the morning, when you are still slumbering beside him with your hands splayed across his bare chest, or when you are pinned underneath him, a sinful image of you in your most disheveled state – his stained robe splayed out underneath your figure, your lungs heaving with pitched whines, your knees trembling with indecision as you fail to choose between spreading yourself open so that he can enter deeper or closing, and thereby restricting his movement, because the pleasure is unbearable. You are always his most precious, but he believes you are at your best when you are working towards an objective. And since your marriage, you have honored his same priority in protecting his people, and he will forever admire this determination of yours.

Truthfully, he never required such a sense of responsibility in his wife. In fact, before he met you, he had never imagined shouldering this duty with anyone else, let alone a stranger from somewhere far beyond. But you are no longer a stranger, and now, during your shared dinners, you are able to speak of this place as if you grew up here, alongside him and all the other villagers. You speak with incredible depth and acute intuition, and fortified by the precision and clarity in your words, he cannot help but think that, despite your personal aversions towards leadership and confrontation, you deserve to stand beside him in the ranks.

The oil lamps and candles on the dining table brighten your face with a gentle golden glow. He can see the flames’ flickering in your eyes, and behind you, he can hear the crackle of smoldering wood and charcoal. He walks over and takes a seat beside you, noticing the faint traces of fire and herbs that linger in your hair and at your shoulders. Pressing the side of his thigh against yours, he picks up his chopsticks and begins to eat, a gesture for you to initiate the conversation.

There is noticeable delay. We can no longer ignore the growing connection between the slowdown of trade with the recurring delusions of multiple suns in the sky.

Do you think it could be divine punishment?

If we had incurred the wrath of Tian, we would have long suffered, and the Emperor would have justified the recent happenings. Our deities have no interest or patience for prolonged torture.

We will need to wait then. We need to know more, or else we will be searching in vain.

No.

You set down your bowl and look straight ahead, peering outside at the courtyard – or rather, at a point somewhere beyond the walls of the courtyard. Mydei can feel your presence wax and wane, expand and recede, until it settles down into a light thrum, akin to the tranquil qi of lotus petals and mossy creeks. He can still see you, without a doubt, but he knows that if he had not been in this room with you right now, he would have never been able to find you here without incredible effort.

It is magical, truly, how you can quiet your presence. In his many years of training and fighting, he has met only a handful of incredible soldiers who can do the same. He was only able to gain this ability himself after maturing as a person and facing the near-death consequences of overwhelming, unbound bloodlust in the midst of combat. That is not to claim that you did not learn in the same ways, but he cannot confirm nor deny because, for better or worse, you never speak of the past. Otherwise, outside of the army, he only knows of the high priests and priestesses that can also adopt a kind of otherworldly aura during their rituals and prayers.

He chews slowly, more preoccupied with observing your profile. Your features are unperturbed, essentially blank, and there is an unfocused fog in your eyes, sharply distinct from the ambition burning within your irises at the beginning of dinner. You shiver, probably to your own ignorance, and he places his things down so he can take off his robe and wrap your shoulders with it. To his surprise, and contentment, you instinctively lean over to rest your shoulder against his without disrupting your thoughts. Just as you wait for him, he waits for you.

By the time the shortest of the three candles, once a sixth of its original length, is about to extinguish, you come to, and the light in your eyes returns as well.

Innate divinity – not to be conflated with the ability to call forth divine powers or forces – is only granted to a few select individuals. More than likely, there will be no need to search the common folk.

Let us begin at the Palace.

Will the Emperor take to this idea?

Perhaps he already has conjectures of his own. I shall request an audience.

Divinity is an intricate, mysterious subject. Deeply embedded in the belief systems and cultural underpinnings of this Holy Nation, most people are naturally mesmerized and fearful of Tian’s deities and their abilities. Even those who are born with divine abilities, namely the Emperor and a select few of his children, and those who can invoke divinity through sacred objects and incantations, such as priests, priestesses, and monks, advise all to be cautious of incurring heavenly wrath.

When you first heard of the hallucinations, you thought it to be the aftershocks of severe heatstroke. Then, when many more farmers and traders began to verify the sighting of various suns, it became clear that the divine was involved because, when individuals who have no capacity for divinity are exposed to these mystical forces, their minds and behaviors can be continuously affected. That must mean they must have come in contact with a mythic beast or creature.

The deities are known for having many children and several other distant brethren, some of which exist on the earth, roaming around as Buddhist guardians, such as the regal Dapengs, or man-eating snake monsters, the most infamous being the nine-headed Jiuying that terrorized seafarers for decades until Mydei slayed it. In this case, an immediate possibility was the return of the boar demon Feng Xi who often wreaked havoc upon farmlands. Feng Xi was also subdued by your husband a few years ago, but it would be no surprise if it were to appear again, typical of the inexplicable nature of divine beasts. But upon investigations of the ruined farmlands by their respective prefectural ministers, there were no signs of terrifying waste or death, only the usual symptoms of a long-lasting drought and ashy remains from fires caused by unrelenting dry winds. With further consideration, you also know that it is impossible, from personal observations and experiences, to invoke a heavenly force powerful – brutal – enough to cause a disaster of this magnitude. In other words, by process of elimination, the problem has to either be the direct doing of a human blessed with divinity or, even worse, a creature or deity from Tian themselves.

You can only hope it is not the latter.

Your concern must be showing on your face, as Mydei leans over to rub his thumb firmly against the apple of your cheek.

No more. Come back to me.

You nod, knowing when to be obedient. When Mydei speaks to you in this tone, sympathetic yet earnest, you know he is looking out for you, grounding you before you can fully lose yourself. While you have impressive mental strength and foresight, you lack an attachment to the present, and without supervision, there is a very real risk of you drifting far, far away, disappearing as you once did when you were young.

Your husband takes you by the hand and guides you back to your shared bedroom. The brief walk is silent, save for your footsteps and the occasional greeting from a guard. The two of you part momentarily when you enter the chamber, as Mydei heads to the side to open the window screens to allow streams of moonlight into the room, while you take your seat on the center of the bed. It is not cold even as a slight breeze filters into the room, for his robe still shields your back and shoulders. However, you elect to take it off, and Mydei watches you strip, not just his clothing but also your layers underneath, from where he is standing.

The moon always manages to cast a romantic light on all that it befalls, and through the midst of your moans, his pants, and the joining of your bodies, over and over and over again, it generously extends its rays so that the two of you are able to have a clear view of each other in your otherwise pitch black room. Surprisingly, there is also a warmth to the moonlight, a soothing and comforting quality to it, that makes you feel as if time is passing slower than it actually is. In this prolonged moment, you can pinpoint every single movement and sensation between you and Mydei – his steeled grip around the base of your neck as he presses you tightly against his chest, the curling of your toes with every deep thrust, the crescendo of his heartbeat against yours. In this room, there is only you and him, isolated and ignorant to the rest of the world – the universe, even –, and defying all rules of space and physics, you solely focus on extending the present for as long as you can, while Mydei struggles to convey to you just how deeply obsessed and enamored he is with you. No one can intervene in this proud, unabashed act of intimacy, and if either you or Mydei dared, both of you would even describe your shared bond as sacred. And, especially for you, you know to not use that word so carelessly.

And when Mydei lays you down to peel off your legs and instead press them down, as close to your ears as possible, he goes impossibly harder and deeper. In this space, there are only the two of you, though you are only seeing him, and he is only seeing you. There are no thoughts or even carnal desires, just a fundamental appreciation and unconditional loving for the other. You whimper – my love – as he presses his sweat-stricken forehead against yours, and he responds with a passionate roll of his hips and a scathing bite that draws blood at your left shoulder. With your arms wrapped around his head, you keep him there and leave him with no choice but to continue making love to you until you unravel at your climax with your teeth clenching, thighs shaking, mind spinning, soul soaring. Mydei soon follows, piercing his nails into your hips to mark you on the outside, releasing within you to mark you on the inside, and between labored rasps of your name, he smears his lips and tongue over yours in hopes of memorizing your addictive taste, your delighted sounds, and your passionate touch.

The two of you stay intertwined, even when neither of you are reeling from the impact of your highs. To part would be to abandon this private realm, which would mean returning to your normal tendencies of hesitance and restraint, and even though all of this will repeat once again tomorrow, you lack the patience to wait, still imprisoned in the moon’s warped, elongated trajectories of time and space.

Despite your defiance, the two of you fall asleep, consumed by wariness and longing, and another day of your life passes.

–

The Emperor has ten sons and countless more daughters. Today marks the seventeenth birthday of the fourth prince, and as expected, it is a grand event. Earlier, at the celebration’s reception, there were hundreds of dancers in neat rows, all flicking their sleeves and arching their fingertips to the rhythm of the Capital’s grand orchestra, also perfectly organized and harmonious as a whole. Following the conclusion of the performance, guards, servants, and lower-ranking officials dash back and forth and around the expanse of the Palace to ensure the undeterred progression of the fourth prince’s birthday party, while higher-ranking officials and generals, along with their accompanying guests, mill about before filing to their respective seats along the two columns of tables laid out parallel to the walls of the central courtyard. In the center front, there is a raised stage with a constructed overhang large enough to accommodate the Emperor, the Empress Dowager, and all ten sons. The platform and steps are entirely covered by a luxurious red carpet with golden floral patterns, and from Mydei’s seat, you can marvel at the delicate porcelain dishware set on top of masterfully carved wooden countertops. You are not used to such lavish displays of wealth and luxury because, although Mydei has long been one of the Emperor’s most loyal and trustworthy generals, that does not necessarily mean you are invited to visit the Palace often. Therefore, as the two of you wait for the birthday ceremony to officially begin, you try to sit as still as possible in order to marvel and take in your surroundings.

During this period, many governmental and bureaucratic figures visit your and Mydei’s seat to say their greetings and make elucidating small talk. Despite assuming his role as one of the Holy Nation’s protectors, your husband cannot abandon certain pet peeves of his, and he shuts down all but one of these conversations with dry responses that reveal nothing of his thoughts or opinions. The only official that he properly responds to is the Head of the Security Bureau, a man by the name of Phainon. From past dinner conversations, you remember Mydei mentioning this man but with the questionable nickname “Deliverer” instead. It was in reference to Phainon’s previous position under the Central Secretariat, though the reason behind his transfer to the Security Bureau continues to remain a secret even to your husband. Regardless, it is obvious that Mydei only tolerates this man at best, so you make sure to listen intently to their conversation.

Mydei! Rare to see you so festive!

It is Mydeimos for you, Deliverer.

Ha, yes, of course.

What is the Security Bureau doing here? What happened to keeping a low profile?

No worries, it is only me, and almost everyone here still believes I remain under the Secretariat. I am also here because I have news to share with you.

Hurry, then.

Phainon does not, though. He hums and begins to look around the courtyard. For a moment, you sense his gaze, but it does not linger for more than a full second. With a shake of his head, your husband sighs and takes deep gulps of water to keep himself preoccupied until the Security Head finally carries on.

He will want to speak to you, when it is your turn to congratulate the prince.

Regarding what?

But Phainon shrugs, and this time, there is no hint of evasion or distance. He truly does not know. But he does leave Mydei with one last piece of instruction.

You will be last in line.

After a few more teasing remarks, Phainon bids the two of you farewell, and from your periphery, you watch him disappear from the south gate.

Before dinner, all of the officials present are to line up in terms of rank and nobility, and, one by one, greet the Emperor, Empress Dowager, and the princes, as well as present their gifts. As per military customs, Mydei requested a new sword sheath of untarnished gold be made for the fourth prince, to represent unwavering courage and honorable victory, so that shall be your offering. However, these interactions usually do not last for more than a few minutes, the last ones usually even more rushed, to ensure that everyone gets their turn and are not too irritated by mealtime, so you wonder how exactly the Emperor will relay his message. Furthermore, you find it suspicious that Phainon requested your husband, one of the generals under direct supervision of the Emperor, to place himself last.

Alas, you find yourself in another situation where you cannot draw sound conclusions. But now that Phainon has left and no other officials have the gall to approach Mydei, you can actually enjoy the ongoing celebrations with your husband.

You fill his tea cup and then yours, though you take a sip first. When you look up at him, he nods in affirmation before drinking himself. The walls, you notice, are a rustic red-brown, though much of it has been covered up by the willows and persimmon trees that were moved specifically for tonight’s event. Scattered between the trunks of the trees are gathered shrubs of all kinds, from batches of orange peonies to short stalks of bamboo to clusters of purple asters. You wonder if you could bring back a few roots or seeds with you, but with one sharp glance from Mydei, you discard the idea immediately.

Your husband knows that you are bored, though, so he offers some reprieve.

There are rumors that the fourth prince might not even make it to his own birthday party.

I am not surprised. I have heard the Emperor’s sons are quite rowdy.

I believe Phainon is here to ensure that all of the princes arrive on time and participate through its entirety. I must say, it is quite entertaining to see him chase after a few brats.

Mydei.

Do not worry. The Emperor is understanding. Besides, I am sure he wholeheartedly agrees at the current moment.

Oh?

Mydei raises his chin, staring up at the night sky. It is hard to make out any one star due to the outstanding numbers of torches, lamps, and fires distributed around the courtyard, but it is not like Mydei was looking at the stars in the first place. The two of you are different in this way. You often seek the world when you think, looking outwards for celestial signs, while Mydei often becomes more introspective with his musings. Even when it looks like he is searching for something, he most likely is not, as he believes all of the answers he needs are usually, perhaps with some effort required, within one’s grasp.

Phainon has aided our investigations of the Palace. He is confident that the culprit is not to be found here.

Your fist digs into the sleeves of your gown.

There are not even signs of collusion?

You know the deities would never stoop to that level. They do not need the help of mortal intelligence or treachery. Regardless, the Emperor has been made aware of the situation, and is quite preoccupied with it. His sons’ constant running about and lack of any sort of drive or initiative is certainly not doing him any good either.

Pursing your lips, you glance at your husband, only to find him already staring at you.

Fear not, my wife. I have slain products of the divine before.

His eyes seem to glow with fierce intensity. The red and orange streaks in his eyes are more noticeable, not because of the myriad torches surrounding your table, but rather because his eyes are widening out of enthusiasm. You scowl, disapproving of his evident bloodthirstiness, yet despite your opposing morals, you slip a hand into his hold. By instinct, he begins to press at the pads of your fingertips, while rubbing circles into your palm. If it were any other day, any other moment, his physical affection would soothe and reassure you. Unfortunately, as Mydei has just confirmed the worst of your suspicions, the fear taking root in the pit of your stomach has already begun to sprout and overwhelm the rest of your emotions.

Surely there is no need to jump into a fight.

Huh, you propose a negotiation? Our deities already know what the consequences of their actions are – they do not care to change their ways, even with such knowledge. What makes you think their minds are still susceptible to reconsideration?

Perhaps some of them do care.

Your husband snorts. To be honest, he is a little surprised by your response. Neither of you are particularly devout, and throughout his many years of knowing you at this point, he knows you are not fond of the divine. So for you to defend them, to the extent of betting on their fickle and spare goodwill, is unusual.

It is not up to me, my wife. I act based on what the Emperor asks of me.

Something in you – a gut instinct, a trained intuition – tells you that you will find out the Emperor’s decision by tonight.

After another half hour, composed of more light-hearted conversation and small bites of snacks to whet your appetite, a gong finally sounds, its ringing reverberating throughout the entirety of the Palace. You feel your bones quake with each vibration, and only after its last echoes have died off does your body regain stillness. The Emperor’s secretary makes his way to the center of the stage, and with a deep bow, commands everyone to rise for the Imperial Family. Everyone stands and bows, faces parallel to the floor, until all members of the Imperial Family settle into their seats, which the secretary confirms several minutes later. Afterwards, you all line up.

Other officials have curious looks on their faces as they see you and Mydei turn away from the stage. One even asks where the two of you are headed, wondering if you have lost your minds and are intent on abandoning the ceremony, but neither of you respond and continue toward the back of the line.

You and Mydei do not speak for the entire hour that it takes for your turn to come. The whole time, nervous and intimidated stares are directed your way, but both of you could care less, simply standing side by side, close enough for your sleeves to brush against and overlap each other.

When the rest of the officials have returned to their seats, only you and Mydei remain, standing a few feet away from the steps that lead up to the raised platform. With a nod from the secretary, Mydei leads you forward, always a step ahead, and when the two of you stand level with the Imperial Family, you get on your knees and raise your clasped hands in front of your dipped heads.

Good evening, your Highnesses. Congratulations to the Fourth Prince, for reaching his seventeenth birthday. We hope the prince continues to live a prosperous, fortunate, and long life, and I present this sword sheath, a product of the finest metals and months’ worth of labor, a tool that we hope he will use as he prepares to lead this Holy Nation. We pay our deepest respects to the Imperial Family.

An attendant takes the sheath from Mydei’s outstretched arms. Usually, one would be dismissed shortly after presenting their gift, but the secretary has yet to tell either of you to rise. Instead, you hear the sound of a chair’s legs rubbing against the carpet’s fur, along with padded footsteps that stop right in front of your husband.

General Mydeimos, you have done incredibly in serving me, and ultimately, this Holy Nation. Your loyalty is not to be questioned.

You recognize this voice. It is jaded yet firm, gentle but irrefutable. The Emperor is telling you his decision.

I want to make an announcement to all that are present, to heed my intent and my resolve. This Holy Nation has coexisted with and lived under the guidance of Tian, but it has not always been a harmonious or even peaceful endeavor. As Emperor, it is my sworn duty, an oath I have undertaken since the day of my inauguration, to protect my people, including all of you, and I can promise you that, throughout these many years under my rule, Tian and I are connected and that I have been in constant search to make a more serene coexistence – a symbiosis, if you will – possible. However –

It seems the Palace and everything within it unanimously sucks in a quavering breath.

– it has become apparent that the heavens have no interest in granting us such serenity. Of course, by no means is this speech of mine a declaration of war or defiance. Rather, I believe this burden I am about to share with you is, in fact, a challenge for this Holy Nation, and one that will be undertaken by a representative of my choosing: Mydeimos. General Mydeimos, please rise.

As much as you would love to raise your head and stare at Mydei like everyone else, you have not been granted permission to lift your head, so you can only continue to heed the Emperor’s message carefully, trying to discern any subtle implications while continuing to pay attention to the words that follow.

For the many years that he has served me, General Mydeimos has become a pillar in the Holy Nation’s defenses. He has slain many of Tian’s earthbound descendants, protecting this land from the destruction of loose spirits and evil demons. Under his watchful gaze, he had confirmed the prophetic fragments I was receiving from Tian, that it is part of this Holy Nation’s fate that we are to face our doom if we remain motionless and ignorant. My people, hear me now, and listen to me carefully, as this message of mine is not meant to inflict any unnecessary fear or anxiety. However, the heavens have told me, as I am telling you, that if nothing is done, the entire world will be burned to its core by the manifestation of ten suns. No human, no animal, no plant will survive the onslaught of ten more suns, no ocean or lake or sea can withstand the fire of ten more suns, not even Tian’s earthbound descendants will be spared.

For this most inauspicious prophecy, I must apologize, on behalf of my ten sons, for their continuous mischief and negligence have been deemed the cause of this impending tragedy. Indeed, Tian has whispered as such in my mind. This Holy Nation deeply understands the various attitudes our deities have towards humans. Some are indifferent, some are intensely curious. It seems this impending tragedy has come about from the latter. My ten sons, this Holy Nation’s royal princes, have inspired the same mischief and negligence in ten of Yudi’s sons. They aspire to experience the same carefree play that my sons have gone away with – escaping the Palace, tricking the innocent to satisfy their personal greed, disappearing for extended periods of time. This behavior has never been acceptable in the Imperial Family, yet despite our fervent attempts to curb their behaviors, Yudi’s sons have already seen enough.

There is now more than one sun in the sky, there is no mistake to that. We will continue to see more and more suns appear, and by the tenth, we will all perish. We must not cast doubt on this matter anymore, because the severity of this issue is life-threatening.

But, again, need I remind all that are present that I do not wish to embed an unjustified sense of fear or anxiety in any of you. The reason I have called upon all of you is because I would like all that are present to bear witness to this heavenly oath that General Mydeimos will take.

You cannot help but gasp, a sharp, harsh intake of breath that almost causes you to sputter and cough. But, even when the world feels like it is falling down on you, you manage to bear the pain, and you stifle it with tears gathering in your burning eyes.

General Mydeimos, there is no end to your remarkable feats in the military, and we are grateful for all that you have done. However, this ask of mine is one of a difficulty I can promise you have never faced before, and you must know, it could be the last task you ever undertake. Knowing all of the risks, I still ask you to take the following oath: I, General Mydeimos, under the watchful eye of the people of this Holy Nation, the Emperor, and all of Tian who are interested, I pledge to take down all but one of the suns, even at the cost of my own life.

It feels impossible to breathe. It seems, no matter how you try to escape, how far you run away, or where you disappear to, the divine will always catch up to you, pulling you away from your loved ones, and the other way around. Hot streams of tears pour down your cheeks, and the only way to prevent yourself from making any noise is to bite down on your lower lip, until your jaws are locking and your teeth are piercing through the thin flesh. Your clasped hands shudder violently, not only from the exhaustion of holding them up for so long, but also from how tightly they are gripping onto each other. Your knuckles are without a doubt strained, and your fingernails are digging into the backs of your hands. Your ears ring with deafening silence, while straining to hear Mydei’s response, yet you also do not want to listen, fearful because you know that, even if he had a choice, he would always agree to a brutal fight.

Without a beat of hesitation, your husband, chief of your village, a general of this Holy Nation, speaks.

I, General Mydeimos, under the watchful eye of the people of this Holy Nation, the Emperor, and all of Tian who are interested, I pledge to take down all but one of the suns, even at the cost of my own life.

Despite the crescendo of applause, the drums, the gong, you hear nothing. You are not sure how it is that you manage to bow to the Emperor, make your way down from the stage, and return to your seat alongside Mydei’s, but to be honest, you do not care how you did any of those things. All you can think about is that, once again, your loved one is being separated from you, all because of the heavens and the divine, and even if his hand is clutching onto yours at this moment, so tight that you can no longer feel the tips of your fingers or the center of your palm, he has never felt farther away.

–

There is no more of your routine with Mydei. He is taken away at the end of the birthday party to begin making preparations for his conquest, leaving you to return to the village alone. He does not visit, can only make time to send concise messages, but he does promise you that he will return the night before he is scheduled to leave.

This is not Mydei’s first conquest, but it is his first conquest that you are dreading, to say the least. It is difficult to encapsulate the extent of your mental anguish because the resurfacing of past traumas, of memories you are insistent on forgetting, is a dark, murky sensation. It is asphyxiating, but you do not know that you are being choked until it is too late, past the point of return. You are no different from a sleeping mouse in the coiled chokehold of a starving snake, and there is nothing to save you, not even to witness your death. Part of you knows this is a globalization of an internal anxiety, as Mydei has not been slain. He is well and alive presently, but that does not answer your deepest concern: will he survive? Even if you sought out divine signals as you had once routinely done over a decade ago, you have been taught that it is taboo to seek the fate of an individual. Fate can be consulted for villages, the weather, long-term wealth, but to determine the death of somebody, even an important figure, is strongly discouraged as there is no use in disturbing one’s mind over a matter that has been set in stone since the birth of this universe.

Not that any of that is relevant. You are sure the divine, even the weakest of Tian’s spirits, would not heed your call, would pay no mind to a trivial woman that had, a long time ago, abandoned her position as a high priestess, and in turn, her prolific ability to invoke divinity. Had you remained at the convent and grown into your role as high priestess, perhaps only then would they give you a fraction of their time, but then, in that case, you would not be praying for Mydei’s safety, but rather for the protection of this Holy Nation as a whole.

There is no particular reason for why you have hidden your past from Mydei or the villagers, other than to save face. After all, no one would believe in the loyalty or commitment of a traitor. Regardless, now that there is established trust, you staunchly believe there is no need to share distasteful matters, like your pathetic past. At this moment, everyone should prioritize Mydei, as well as ensuring the operations of the village during his absence.

Mydei finds you not in the dining room, but in his office at his desk, with a candelabra burning away, as if you are prepared to work the whole night. You are combing through a few scrolls that were once shelved, the old texts he used to pore over when he was training to become village chief. It is not that you are a stranger to their contents or to the duties of the village chief. It is simply that, when you are uneasy, you tend to return to the very basics, to instill confidence within yourself that there is a logical rationale behind your actions and decisions. He knocks on the office doors and watches through the parted screen window as you scramble up from your seat from surprise. He chuckles, but had there been any listeners, they would know those were half-hearted at best.

We need to talk.

It is comforting, though, that there remain some things that will never change. Even if you are not honest, Mydei will always face you with a straightforward attitude, and compared to before, he feels more present, confirming that he is, in fact, standing in front of you, when he loops your arm through his. You let him guide you away from the office and to your shared bedroom, where you can, for the last time in a while, immerse yourselves in this space dedicated only to the two of you.

On the bed, he pulls you into a tight, engulfing embrace. With his chest molded against your arched back, his legs spread out to barricade your form, his chin atop your left shoulder where the bite mark once was, the two of you parse through all and any matters.

There will be a caravan arriving in a month’s time.

The north west gate needs to be rebuilt.

We should consider extending trade to some of the towns in the south.

You will miss it when the peaches are in season.

Be sure to visit Grandma Li. She tends to forget to take her medication.

Do not forget to rest your arm. Feng Meng will not take it easy on you, even if you are his general and him your soldier. You will always be his master first.

When you need me, look up at the moon, because I will also be gazing at it. Never forget that we are forever under the same sky.

The moonlight is especially consoling that night. Unlike his usual tendencies to dominate and overwhelm, your husband lets you set the pace, and atop him, he watches you surge up and down, the moon’s beams illuminating your damp skin, your parted lips, and your glossed eyes. Your breasts, hips, thighs ripple with every unforgiving drop of your body onto his, and his cock pierces you deeply in turn, reaching and hitting spots that cause you to see stars. He never fails to make you feel fulfilled, but tonight, you are voracious, and you just want more, more, more of him. You want to embed pieces of yourself into his body, so that throughout his campaign, no matter how long it lasts, he will never once waver when he thinks back to your touch, your scent, your love. As you continue riding him, you run your hands over his sturdy form, letting your fingers trace the divots of his muscles, the fat of his chest, the red streaks of tattoo that paint his arms. It is also so that you will never forget, drawing an illustrative map of his body so that in your times of loneliness, anxiety, and want, you also have something of his to depend upon. Perhaps you have forgotten how to live without your husband, but that is a subject for introspection later. In the present, you decide to accelerate your movements and apply more force with every exerted rise and fall.

Eventually, you collapse forward because by no means do you have as much stamina as your husband, but you urge yourself to push forward nonetheless and resort to more shallow lifts and dramatic swirls of your hips. With your face buried against the underside of his chin, you begin to mouth at his neck and Adam’s apple, the rumble of his groans and hisses traveling and vibrating straight through the thin skin of your lips. When it looks like your husband’s exhibiting a significant amount of restraint, with the way his head keeps shaking side to side and his hands grip onto your thighs with shackling strength, you cannot help but smirk, ready to give him his release that he is so desperately delaying. You litter a line of kisses down to his collarbones, and after a few laves of your tongue, as if to smooth and placate him, you bite down, sinking your teeth into the juncture where his neck and shoulders meet, clamping down so hard with the intent to punish, to instill guilt, to kill his fighting spirit.

Normally, you would never do such a thing. You have no interest in tying your partner down or forcing them to sacrifice the people and things they love and enjoy. But since he has granted you so much selfishness already, you might as well go the full way and make him really understand the state he has put you in. For, even upon reflection, you know it in your bare, raw soul that you will never know life without your husband. Where he goes, you follow. If he is alive, you will be, too. But if he were to die, then your time will also have come.

Your husband cries out loud with a wild shout of your name, arms flying to enclose themselves around your figure out of both surprise and overstimulation, and with a spontaneous jerk of his hip upwards, his cock collides with your core and slams into that spot, the one that always has you ripping apart at the seams and screaming for mercy, pulling you up to your euphoric high with him. Ironically, it feels as if you are falling from Tian, soaring through the sky while being unable to breathe, a coursing pleasure followed by a stinging, bittersweet pang. You do not even realize you are sobbing until your husband muffles your wails with his mouth, swallowing your grief and despair down with his own fears, of which he definitely has but will never voice.

Mydei is not used to seeing you so sentimental. You are more aloof and reserved, so he is not as practiced with handling your outbursts as he should be. But even he knows that this torrential surging of your emotions is really a broken heart personified. You need him to know that your heart is being torn and cracked and smashed by the inevitable reality of his leave, and he knows you are telling him that only he can fix you by coming back in one piece and with a sound mind.

For the remainder of the night, he holds you impossibly closer, one hand always keeping your face to his chest, the other always wound around your waist, his legs always tangled with yours. And before he falls asleep, he looks out the window, gazing up at a sliver of the starry sky, and prays to the moon to cast its gentle, assuring light upon you every dusk he is gone. Despite his personal gripes with the divine, he is convinced that, with the way it has never failed to make you look so mesmerizing and delicate underneath its glow, the moon will continue to bask you with its nurture and protection for as long as it takes for him to return, and he is soothed by that thought, because someone needs to look out for you in his absence.

By the early dawn, he is ready to leave. The two of you stand at the entrance to your abode, and with a chaste kiss to your forehead, he finally parts from you, distancing himself in slow motion. You watch, rooted to your spot, as he gets on his horse, relishes in one last longing gaze, and sets off. He rides away without looking back, and when he is out of sight, you, too, return to your bedroom without even the faintest sign of indecision or doubt.

–

Mydei returns not the following summer, but the summer after, right when the peach blossoms have begun shedding to make way for the green buds that will, in two to three weeks’ time, fruit. There is no fanfare or parade, not even an announcement to notify you of his arrival. In fact, for the little over two years since his departure, you were not informed of any aspect of his campaign from official channels. It did not matter, though, when everyone was able to keep track of his progress with every morning that passed.

Barely a month after his leave, you woke up with sweat soaking through your clothes and blankets, as if you had remained in a bath with your clothes on for several hours. You made it a habit to leave your windows open every night, but had you woken up that morning any later, you would have been sunburnt to the point of permanent scarring from the three suns that were just beginning to rise in the sky, their unrelenting heat scorching everything that happened to soak in its light. You got up and warned everyone in the household to remain indoors, and perilously, you took not one, but two, thickly lined parasols with you as you made your way through the village to issue warnings and usher those that were outside back into their homes. The flowers that you had tended to just the other afternoon were already wilting, dehydrated, and you goaded the rabbits from their hole with a trail of fruits and leaves to another you had haphazardly dug where there was everlasting shade.

Later on, you would hear that Mydei had first tried to negotiate with Yudi’s sons, telling them to fulfill their appetite for mischief with something else, but given the inconsistencies in the rumors, it is not clear whether the sons ignored or denied the general’s demands. It seems that Mydei’s attempt at swaying their minds only further encouraged them to follow through with their plan, and Yudi’s sons began to wreak havoc shortly afterwards. As a result, it became a hunt, one that required Mydei and his troop to race around the Holy Nation in search of each of Yudi’s kin. Mydei and his men could only attack at night, when the sons had left their daytime posts to make way for the moon, but they never came down together, instead settling in different parts of the Holy Nation.

The information you managed to garner, in the form of riveting tales and dubiously trustworthy gossip, either came from the village children’s eavesdropping or the occasional letter from Phainon, which he sent under personal regards. There never was an explanation for why you were kept in the dark, and you never bothered to ask either, because what good would it do for you? Had your husband been slain, you and everyone else in the world would have known already, and you need not entertain excessive hope. All you had to do was see if you could wake to another day.

The worst occurred a year and a half into Mydei’s journey, when there were six suns in the sky at once, their brightness bleeding out even the pure blue of the space beyond. Everybody stayed indoors and covered every possible crack or opening to prevent sunlight from leaking in, but not without the cost of broiling within their own rooms. On days when it was more possible to venture outside, you and your guards had to visit the occasional house to pull out dead bodies, smelling of decaying rot, feces, and steam, and bury them before even their right to a dignified burial was stolen by Yudi’s kin. And this was not a problem exclusive to your village. The Palace began to ring a large gong, three resonating beats, at noon every day to honor the growing number of victims, and there was a national decree for every home to light incense and perform daily prayers during the early evenings to beg for Tian’s interference.

Of course, nobody from Tian ever responded, but it seemed as if Mydei had sensed his people’s tortured cries, and from that point onwards, the suns continue to be felled, one after the other, until only one remained, the same sun that has stood with the earth since the very beginning.

You are in his office when your head lady-in-waiting calls out your title with excited raps against the paneled doors.

My Lady! You must come! Someone has come for you!

You are on your feet immediately, and you almost knock her over when you burst through the doors.

However, you are not greeted by your husband. Rather, it is another familiar face that greets you with a toothy grin and a proud hand saluted at his head.

We have made it back, safe and sound!

You cannot help but throw your arms around the man’s neck, hugging him without reprieve for air. His arms do not reciprocate, for it is inappropriate for a man to demonstrate affection towards a taken woman, but by his hearty laughs, you know he is overjoyed by your reaction.

Where is your master, Feng Meng?

In the Capital, reporting to the Emperor. I have come to fetch you, Madam, to attend his ceremony! You must hurry!

Without another thought, you and your servants rush to dress you. There are flurries of orange sashes, twirling skirts with golden beads sewn at the waist, the clicking of green jade against white jade, and in no later than ten minutes, you are in an oxcart that speeds its way to the Palace.

It is extremely difficult to get to the Palace. First, all entrances to the Capital are at a standstill, bottlenecked by a flood of traffic composed of several donkeys, horses, and merchant carts. The inside of the Capital fares no better – in fact, made worse by all of the pedestrians, street-side shops, and narrow paths. It is only after your cart finally pushes its way through the long lines and leaves the more populated and mercantile neighborhoods that the traffic disperses, and then it is an orderly journey to the Palace. When the guards ask for the purpose of your visit, Feng Meng simply needs to flash the handle of his sword, and you are directed to enter through the back gates, typically only reserved for guests of honor.

You swallow thickly from the infinite, various thoughts swirling in your mind. Will he have scars etching every corner of his body? Will he be several shades tanner? Is his hair an unruly length, or has he cut, or worse, singed it short? Is he a changed person, more violent in demeanor or fatigued from excessive stress? You do not plan on bombarding him with your questions, as he is probably answering plenty from government officials and the Emperor himself, but you also cannot guarantee that you will be able to restrain yourself. Though, the more you think about it, you are not sure how you should react when you see him. Should you wait for him to approach you, or should you take the initiative? Will he want to embrace you or keep you at a distance to give himself some space? How different is he from the man he was more than two years ago, and what will this current version of Mydei think of you when he sees you?

You fail to devise a plan by the time your cart comes to a stop and Feng Meng holds his elbow out to help you jump down. The Palace guards instruct you to wait with the other soldiers' wives, mothers, and fathers in the tea room around the corner, and Feng Meng directs you before he has to leave to prepare for the ceremony himself. You are unsure if Mydei will come to you as you wait in the tea room, so in the case that he does, you find a chair closest to the open entrance, and sit in perfect posture, still and quiet. The other people in the room are frantic, sharing the same questions and concerns you have, but requiring and taking advantage of the comfort of family to alleviate each other’s doubts and fears. You are reminded that neither you or Mydei have other family to turn to, only each other, and oddly enough, you become more optimistic.

All of you are in the tea room for two hours before a Palace guard comes to beckon the entire gathering to follow him. The guard guides all of you to your seats, near the back of the same courtyard you were in for the fourth prince’s seventeenth birthday party. This time, instead of two columns of tables, there are rows upon rows of people kneeling shoulder to shoulder, facing in the direction of the raised center stage. As per usual, the Imperial Family has yet to make their appearance, but they soon will after the highest-ranking officials finish taking their seats.

Finally, with the blaring sound of horns and gongs and drums, the award ceremony begins, and the Emperor, Empress Dowager, and the ten princes ascend their thrones. The secretary comes at the end of the line, and with a nod from the Emperor, the former begins his speech.

Today marks the official end of General Mydeimos’ campaign to defeat ten of Yudi’s sons. General Mydeimos and his men have returned victorious, and so, we host today’s ceremony in tribute to their bravery and success.

The crowd breaks into a clamoring of applause, a little more unruly due to the ecstatic and celebratory atmosphere.

We will present General Mydeimos and his troop of 62 surviving soldiers with honorable military status, in addition to multiple monetary benefits. We will also mourn the loss of the 138 soldiers, whose lives were lost throughout the campaign’s duration, with a funeral procession that will take place the following Saturday and Sunday. Families of the deceased will receive imperial support, and on behalf of this Holy Nation, we are indebted to the sacrifices you and your sons have made. More information regarding the funeral and compensation will be announced and distributed in the coming days. With that, we will begin by awarding the 62 soldiers.

A line of soldiers marches forth from behind you, and you closely observe them as they trod past you. Their faces are set and stern, and they are wearing their tattered armor, rusted and melted swords, bows, and spears held in place on their backs. You also notice several holding onto the solder in front of them, and with a closer look, you realize many of them have either a diminished or total loss of sight. As the line reaches the steps to the stage, the secretary begins calling out each name, handing every person when it is their turn a bronze badge with an engraved solar insignia and a hefty bag of riches. There is no applause, as silence is a way of demonstrating utmost attention and respect, until all the soldiers have been named and awarded. The survivors line up once again and seat themselves along the walls of the courtyard.

Then, an obedient hush falls across the crowd, all in anticipation of the true hero. You, too, suck in your breath, eyes darting around in search of your husband, the chief of your village, a general of this Holy Nation. With a deep breath, the secretary announces his presence in a booming, grand voice.

General Mydeimos, please enter!

Your abilities to speak, breathe, even think are stolen from you. It does not feel like reality when you see Mydei, his hair tied in a clean knot on the top of his head, a velvety black cape billowing behind his broad, intimidating figure, the metal blade of his glaive glinting fiercely underneath the rays of the single sun in the sky. Mydei spares nothing to the crowd, not a prideful smirk or disinterested glance, and simply kneels deeply when he makes his way in front of the Imperial Family.

The Emperor rises from his seat, and the secretary is prompted to narrate.

General Mydeimos, the Emperor would like to personally bestow you your rewards, for your incomparable feat in defeating Yudi’s sons, ten of Tian’s mightiest creations. On behalf of the Imperial Family, he would like to award you a ranking within the nobility and an accompanying northern estate in the Capital. Furthermore, your village will receive recovery aid from the government and many trade benefits. Thank you, once again, for your service.

The Emperor gestures for Mydei to stand, and attaches a noble badge onto the latter’s cloak. Mydei then turns around and bows to the crowd.

General Mydeimos, would you like to say anything, in light of your return and victorious conquest?

He sweeps his eyes across the hundreds of people in front of him before lifting his head and glaring up at the clear blue sky.

My men and I have returned, and the Holy Nation is safe. We are safe, and undefeated.

Through the thundering of applause, cheers, and cries, you tear up at the glorious sight of your husband. He is far away, not as far as he was these past two years, but still a fair distance away such that you cannot make out the features of his face. How blessed it is to live in the same world as him, you think, and it seems your undivided admiration of your husband causes you to accidentally rid yourself of your presence. Mydei’s head snaps to look in your direction, having sensed a change within the audience. He cannot see you individually, but he knows you are somewhere amongst that section of the crowd, and he nods his head, dipping his chin with solemn confidence. Then, he begins to make his way down the steps to take his leave.

That is, until a shiver runs down his spine, a gut instinct alerting him of a formidable presence, and he swivels around to look behind him as his hands reach for his glaive, only to be blinded by a shining white light. What is even more concerning is, as he tries to block the light from his view, he notices that there is no reaction from anyone else present – in fact, there is no sound at all. The light begins to retract on its own, and as Mydei blinks through his stunned vision, he sees that the secretary, the guards lining the bottom of the stairs, the officials sitting in the front rows of the audience – all of them are frozen in place, mouths open in mid-conversation, hands stuck beside their heads in dramatic gestures, eyes wide open, unblinking. The scenery has not changed one bit, aside from the fact that everyone and everything is unmoving, yet he can still sense the formidable presence surrounding him.

Oh, I thought it was just you and me.

A voice, coming from everywhere and nowhere, speaks. Suddenly, a familiar voice – your shout – pierces through the silent space.

Mydei!

He turns to where he once looked in the crowd and spots your standing figure. But before he can sprint to you, or call you over, the voice speaks again.

Forgive me, I do not mean to scare either of you. I had only intended to speak to Mydeimos, however.

With that, your body slumps over and drops onto the ground. Without hesitation, Mydei swings his glaive and, with a snarl, holds it out in front of himself, body poised to attack.

What did you do to my wife!

You cannot fight me, for I will not appear in front of you. As for your wife, I have put her to sleep. I only wish to speak to you.

Concerning what matter?

But the voice does not speak again, and instead, his glaive is replaced, and a ball appears in one hand.

What is this! Answer me!

An elixir of immortality, made of a blade of grass found only in Tian. If you ingest this elixir, it will grant you endless life, and you will become one of us. Take this as a sign of my gratitude.

Before he can respond, there is another flash of that same blinding white light from earlier, and the chaos of the courtyard returns, everything resuming their intended ways. Only the ball in his hand, the lack of his weapon, and your unconscious form indicate that his conversation actually took place.

Following the award ceremony, Mydei is invited to stay as a guest in the Palace, but he declines, not even trying to come up with a reason to justify his need to return to his village immediately.

He returns before you do but only needs to wait for half an hour before he hears you running through the walkways of your estate, approaching your chamber where he is waiting for you. Even though he had encountered Yudi’s sons, all ten of them combined would pale in the face of the omnipotent force that had approached him, and he is sure you are as, if not more, distraught as he is.

When you come rushing in, he rises from the bed and catches you as you leap at him, your trembling body against his.

My love, are you alright!

I need to show you this.

You refuse to separate from him, though, so he squeezes his hand into the crevice between your neck and his chest, and presses the elixir against your skin. That causes you to jump back, and your expression can only be described as one of pure shock.

That cannot be.

Mydei purses his lips.

The voice said it can grant immortality.

That - that voice. Only Yudi and Wang Mu Niang Niang possess access to the elixir of immortality. It - it must have been her! How can this be!

If it is Wang Mu Niang Niang, she said this was a gift out of gratitude.

He watches you take shaky steps back to him. You are trained on the ball in his palm, in disbelief of the existence of it.

W-well… are you going to take it?

Mydei snorts.

Of course not. I would be a fool to separate us from each other for any longer. I also have no intention of becoming a liar or a hypocrite, when I have had little regard for the divine since my birth. Have you forgotten what your husband is like?

His words, mostly tart with a hint of lilting tease, manages to draw a huff of a chuckle from you.

I am home. And I plan to stay for a while.

He scans your face and frame. There are more lines on your face, no doubt a result of your labor and sleepless nights from watching over the village by yourself. Your hair has also gotten quite thin and is a lighter shade, washed out by the suns’ harsh light, and there is both a rigidness and a frailty to your aura, both of which he has never sensed before. You, too, take your time in observing your husband, who has indeed gotten quite tan, and his hair is even longer, reaching down to his hips. There are several patches of his skin that are charred and burned, and you wince at the notion of such extreme pain and beating. Some things remain the same, however, such as the chiseled lines of his muscles and the bold red of his tattoos.

Moreover, this beat of hesitation, of holding each other at an arm’s length away, stays constant as well. But it does not last as long anymore, when Mydei breaks first and draws you into his hold. This embrace is one saturated with warmth, longing, and satisfaction, your first genuine hug since the two of you parted ways over two years ago. You take in his presence, as he does with yours, and in this room, this space just for the two of you, it finally feels complete and whole again.

Later, before the both of you head out for dinner with the rest of the villagers, Mydei decides to hide the elixir in a wooden box that he conceals in the corner of the bedroom. Though neither of you may have a need for it, it may be safer to conceal its existence, especially from potential prying eyes and envious minds.

–

A week later, a Palace messenger arrives at your estate to announce the holding of a banquet that evening in honor of Mydei and his troop. Your husband scoffs at the invitation, but with a stern glare from you, he begrudgingly accepts. These days, Mydei deigns to leave your side, constantly following you about as you resume your village duties and responsibilities. You also make time to bring him around to show him what he has missed out on.

One dawn, you take him to visit Grandma Li’s grave. You bring a basket of pears, homemade rice cakes filled with peanut butter, and incense pillars as offerings, and Mydei kneels for a long time in front of the grave. Another lunchtime, the two of you go to collect peaches, and as it was a Sunday, the children who had no school to attend that day joined you with their parents and siblings. You also show him the rabbits that you raised, the babies now fully grown with fluffy white coats and beady red eyes. And the night before the Palace’s banquet, your village hosts its own at your estate, and many of Mydei’s men come over. Mydei sits with his disciple Feng Meng, while you mill about to pay your respects to the village’s elders and to extend your appreciation to the soldiers present for their loyalty toward your husband.

You pass by a table occupied by a large family of seven. You are especially close to this family’s twins who are both ten-years-old, though not out of personal bias, but because they are relentless in their pursuit for your affection. As so, when the twins notice you, they scream out to you.

Eat with us! Eat with us!

You laugh, shaking your head with a soft smile.

Sorry, little ones, but I must eat with the chief tonight. I will join you for a meal another day.

They huff, crossing their plush arms across their chests. Then, as twins are with their shared thoughts and intuition, they share a cheerful look before turning back to you. The older of the two, a girl, speaks first, before the younger one, a boy, follows up, and the two continue to alternate back and forth.

We heard something interesting at school yesterday!

It is about the chief!

And we heard it from the ninth prince himself!

The prince said the chief had a forbidden medicine –

– a medicine that would make him young forever!

But we read in our books that that kind of medicine only exists in Tian.

Yet the prince looked awfully serious. Is there something wrong with the ninth prince?

Or is the prince right? That the elixir of immortality is real?

You pat their heads while maintaining your expression.

Lower your voices and hush now. If you are caught speaking ill of the Imperial Family, you will lose your tongues. Eat, before dinner gets cold.

You bid your farewell, and head back to your table. As you walk, though, you mull over the twins’ words.

As much as you despise your upbringing as a child of the divine, you find that the hard skills you learned since young have been more helpful than not throughout your life, even after you abandoned your post. Like now, you know not to ignore the signs. Twins are fortuitous, especially boy-girl pairs, and given that they brought up the elixir of all subjects tells you that Wang Mu Niang Niang’s gift is not something that can be so easily forgotten or discarded. You must exercise caution and remain vigilant, all while exhibiting inconspicuousness.

When you return to Mydei’s side, you realize Feng Meng is gone. You ask about the latter’s whereabouts, to which your husband responds that his disciple went to the bathroom. You run your hand through his hair, tracing your fingernail through his braids that you did this morning, before you excuse yourself to change into something warmer.

You pad through the darkened walkways, stopping whenever you run into a guard or a lady-in-waiting. You ask if they have seen Feng Meng, and you follow each of their instructions, until you realize you are navigating towards your husband’s office. Before you make the bend that would allow you to see the office, you wait, extinguishing your presence as you have done when tending to the rabbits and channeling your foresight. When your soul is quiet, everything around gets louder, and though it is faint, there is a vanishing trace of disdain that you can sense that stains the path to Mydei’s office. The flickering nature of the presence tells you there must be another human nearby, one skilled but not yet masterful. But before you can fetch Mydei for help, you must confirm your suspicions.

With quick and light steps, you glide to the old willow that drapes itself over the office building. From behind the trunk, you can peer inside one of the windows, though it does take some effort as it is only wedged open by a fraction and there is no light inside. From what you can tell, there are several unfurled scrolls strewn across his desk, and if you strain your ears, you can hear the shuffling and rearranging of the items on the shelves closest to you. While you do not know who this intruder is, as it could be someone other than Feng Meng, it is clear that someone is there.

You hurry back and try your best to keep up the silencing of your qi, despite the thrumming of anxiety that courses through your blood.

Mydei catches onto your intentions quickly, as he notices your appearance has not changed at all upon your return. You note that Feng Meng’s absence persists. He comes up to you, but instead of directing him to where the intruder is, you loop your arms through his and gently urge him to follow you around the villagers and soldiers. After all, you do not know if the intruder is acting alone, and if not, there could be those watching your husband closely.

As you pace around, you quietly inform him.

Someone is ransacking your office. I believe they are looking for the elixir.

How would they know about it?

Even the children have heard about it. At the very least, it is known that the ninth prince has been talking about its potential existence in the Capital.

How would the ninth prince know about it?

It is a good question, so you ponder it briefly.

I have a hypothesis, if you will entertain me.

Please, go ahead.

Remember how I was awake initially? It could be that the Imperial Family was also awake.

How could I have missed that?

No, not in the same way that you and I were awake. We could move about, even under Wang Mu Niang Niang’s spell. I was most likely able to withstand her spell because of my tolerance to divinity. By that logic, then, it is possible that the Imperial Family and priests were also able to retain their consciousness during her appearance, but were solely limited to that.

That is enough said on your part. The rest, Mydei understands. It is his turn, then, to formulate a strategy.

I will take the direct route to our bedroom. Veil yourself and go from the back, around the washroom. I will leave first, or else they will be suspicious of you.

He rubs his thumb across your cheek, a gesture of reassurance, and he makes some conversation with a few of the elders to his side before he goes on his way. You spend even longer lingering around the villagers, but also with the soldiers, to see if any of them are accomplices. But there is no sense of hostility or hatred from them. The more you investigate, hovering within the soldiers’ presence, the more confident you are that none of them are involved. That leaves you with two options: the intruder is acting alone, confirming their identity as Feng Meng, or alongside members of the Security Bureau.

You sigh. You must go now.

–

Mydei is broiling with anger. There is no need to hide his presence, as he wants to make it known that he is furious. His people have long suffered at the hands of the current empire, the village having been conquered during his incompetent father’s reign, and while he has tried to make peace with the Emperor, he has never once forgiven him and the Holy Nation. Now, he is being targeted for something he did not ask for – if they wanted it, they could have just asked for it! He shakes his head and rolls out his wrists, preparing to draw his blade and kill all that invades his home.

You are too reckless, Mydei.

Mydei swings, but misses.

Deliverer!

The Head of the Security Bureau steps out of the shadow, a black mask covering all but his piercing blue eyes. Had Mydei not worked with the Head before, the latter’s sudden appearance would have startled him.

You fool! You have always been the Emperor’s dog!

Mydei, it is you who is the dog. You need to be subjugated. The Emperor will no longer tolerate defiance from you or your village.

Defiance! How laughable!

This is not a laughing matter.

This is no matter in the first place.

I am afraid, then, that this is not something we can talk through.

Mydei has no doubt that he can defeat Phainon. His only fear is that he will not be fast enough.

–

It seems you were right in following the signs because you are exceptionally lucky. The moon lights your path so that you can navigate your way through your abode with ease and speed. So far, there does not seem to be anybody trailing you, and the intruder is nowhere to be seen, so they are not targeting you either. At this rate, it is likely that the intruder has left Mydei’s office and is searching elsewhere.

You take a deep breath out of relief when you arrive at your chamber and realize that no one else is present. There is only one entrance to your bedroom, so you take extra care to be silent as you come around from behind the building, and when the coast is clear, you sneak into your room. You pay no mind that the inside is dark, as you know the placement of everything by heart. You approach the corner of the room where Mydei hid the wooden box inside a large jar with bamboo planks stacked on top. You remove everything one by one, hurrying but prioritizing the need for silence above all else. But, again, it seems luck is on your side, and you are able to retrieve the elixir without a hitch. You move everything back to their original placements, except for the medicinal ball that you tightly clutch in your fist.

All is well, until you step out of your bedroom.

You cannot help but scream when you see Mydei, bloody and battered, fighting against Phainon, bruised and limping.

No!

Both of them cease their movements, surprised by your presence. But before either of them can come to, something surges up from beneath you, and a hand flies up to grab you by the neck, limiting your ability to breathe without delay.

It hurts. It is an excruciating pain of being crushed under a heavy weight. You have heard that suffocating is akin to drowning, which feels like being roasted and burned from the inside out. You wonder if Mydei has ever experienced pain like this, perhaps when he received those patches of permanently seared skin. In your choking, murky view, you can make out the blurred outline of Feng Meng, his face contorted in an ugly, deceitful frown as he breathes heavily. And through your pounding ears, you barely make out his words.

I know you have it! If you just give it to me, Madam, your life will be spared!

Even if you could talk, you would not answer. However, since you cannot speak anyway, you demonstrate your refusal by flailing, thrashing your legs in every direction possible and beating Feng Meng’s arms with your fists. You know that you are only wasting your energy, but since Feng Meng is not ready to kill you yet, you desperately take in shallow gasps of air as well. You can hear Mydei screaming your name over and over again in between silvery screeches of gold colliding against brass, and by now, you think your guards should be on their way to address the commotion. But even their arrival might be too late for you, and it seems your luck has run out.

Feng Meng’s grip on you tightens, preventing air from entering you entirely. You probably look like a fish out of water, uselessly gaping your mouth and sputtering drool all over.

Madam, I will only ask you once more, or I will take it by force! Please hand over the elixir!

It is no use. You will not give him the elixir, and he needs to retrieve it by any means. With no compromise in sight, the two of you are at a standstill. That means one of you has to take action.

Without another thought, with the last remnants of your fading strength, you bring your shaky fist to your greying lips and release your clutch, dropping the ball into your mouth.

Then you swallow.

It is as if time has stopped, once again. Everyone else, including Mydei, is frozen in the middle of their actions, and only you are able to move for however long you have. You remove Feng Meng’s chokehold on you, and heave in desperate breaths.

Your mind immediately begins to clear, and that is made apparent when you sense her. Now that you know who she is, her omnipresence, preceded by a white light, is less frightening.

That was not intended for your use.

You take another deep, shuddering breath.

My apologies, Wang Mu Niang Niang. But I figured it would be better than handing it over to the likes of Feng Meng. He would have eaten it on the spot.

That was not a call for you to make.

But you knew this would happen. I know the divine are capable of seeing into the future.

You are too powerful for your own good. Perhaps this was the best outcome, after all.

Seeing that you are still on your own, you rush to Mydei’s side, placing a hand on his cheek. His eyes are wide, golden and rouge irises twinkling under the moonlight. His mouth is wide open, as he was probably in the midst of screaming at you to Just hand it over! There are blood splatters that cover his temple and neck, and you use your sleeve to rub those away, before peppering kisses onto the corners of his lips.

Mortal, I will allow you to bring two things from this earth to the moon, where you will join me.

You pause in the middle of your kissing to respond, icily.

If you are pitying me, I will have none of it.

Are you in any position to refuse pity? Regardless, you do not have a choice. This elixir is of my making, so you must obey my commands. On the moon you will reside, and every year on this day, I will grant you the opportunity to see your beloved on this earth.

You leave one last kiss on your husband’s nose before you step back. Although you will be able to see him once a year, it feels… strange. You had promised yourself that, upon Mydei’s return, the two of you would be able to return to your normal routine and only be subjected to a few hours’ worth of separation every day. Even now, as you let your eyes linger over every centimeter of his face, you can tell that much of him has changed throughout his campaign, and before you have the chance to memorize his new contours and creases, it is you who must leave, by divinity’s demand, and you will never be able to know him as well as you once did.

How strange and twisted, you think, but for some reason, there is a distinct sense of acceptance within you. Perhaps the past two years have tested you, and you no longer fear fate’s outcomes because, at the very least, Mydei did the impossible in defeating Tian’s dwellers and survived. It might also be that you know Wang Mu Niang Niang is already demonstrating as much mercy as the heavens will allow, so even if you were to throw a fit or beg for more, the goddess herself would not be able to do anything. Or maybe, at one indistinguishable point, you unconsciously resigned yourself to the divine, and knowing that it will do anything it can to torment you, you have carried that grief along and never once set it down. This sudden unraveling of your life and the way you have known it to be has simply allowed that grief to surface, and you can only shake your head when faced with the darkened, disintegrating state of your heart.

You proceed to shuffle backwards, away from Mydei, until he is barely out of reach. You take the golden cuff that holds his front braid together, before you walk to the nearby courtyard where the rabbits reside. You uncover their burrow, unrooting purple forget-me-nots and creeping buttercups, and reach in to pull out the runt of the newest litter, no different from a solid figurine in your palm.

I am ready.

How strange, your choices. Explain to me, mortal.

There is not much to it. I suppose I find sentimentality in things that keep me going.

How bold of you, to not tell the truth in front of the likes of me.

You could force it out of me, if you so wish.

You watch as a staircase and railing of stardust, moonlight, and cosmic nothingness appear before your eyes in the middle of the courtyard, spiraling upwards and into the sky, ending somewhere far beyond where the moon hangs. You stare at Mydei’s braid cuff and the baby rabbit, which you notice is beginning to shiver, and you tuck both of them in the inside of your robe before ascending the first steps of the staircase.

As you climb, you notice the earth below you gradually resuming its time. A breeze brushes past the tips of your ears, and you delight in the perfume of fresh mint, blooming magnolias, and rose peonies it carries. In the distance, an owl hoots, and a pair of magpies flutter down to a pond you cannot see. You lose yourself to the natural order of the earth because, soon, you will leave this land.

Suddenly, a yell of your name draws you back. You lean over the railing and see that below, Mydei is gazing up at you. You can still make out the expression on his face – one of loss, desperation, and frustration. He is biting on his lower lip, and there are divots between his eyebrows. His eyes appear especially glossy and bright underneath the moon’s light.

Where are you going?

To the moon.

Can you come back down to me?

I cannot.

Your husband takes a few seconds before replying, and as you wait, the sound of grass blades ruffling and bats flying fill the silence.

I see. Then can I come up to you?

Wang Mu Niang Niang intercedes.

No. You will live out the rest of your life and die on this earth.

You and Mydei share a solemn look. Neither of you can say anything, as both of you have begun to weep, quiet tears clumping together eyelashes and rolling down the apples of your cheeks. But Mydei is also aware of the unforgiving reality that you may disappear at sudden, so with a shaky, breaking voice, he attempts to carry on the flow of the conversation, clinging onto any chance to hear his wife’s voice again.

When will I next see you?

Whenever the moon rises.

I will look up at the night sky every evening. And in person?

Every year, on this day, at this time.

I will meet with you every year. I swear.

I look forward to it, my love.

Are you cold? I am sure it is cold on the moon.

Do not worry. I have all that I need.

Wang Mu Niang Niang intercedes once more.

Enough of your idle chatter!

But the two of you carry on, because both of you have realized that Wang Mu Niang Niang is kind, and no longer are the two of you fearful of Tian or the divine or divinity as a whole. Rather, in the last, ticking seconds that you have, it is most important to cherish and express the unyielding, everlasting love you have for each other, as husband and wife. With soft, longing smiles, you utter the same sentence together.

We are forever –

– under the same sky.

Both of you press your fingers to your lips before extending your arms out towards each other, hoping that the full extent of your yearning, love, and devotion will be conveyed and reach the other. Then, with a flash of blinding white light, you disappear from Mydei’s sight.

You, of course, can still see him, but you will yourself to turn your chin away and climb up, up, up so that by tomorrow night, you will have made it to the moon, and Mydei will be able to see you from the window of your shared bedroom.

The world resumes, as if you were never there at all, as if time never stopped flowing. But Mydei knows you were real, are real. He reminds himself he need only survive tonight alone, and tomorrow, he will see you again, for the two of you can never be apart for too long.

And he is right because, by the decree of the heavenly gods above and their kindred spirits down on the earth in the forms of the water, leaves, wind, and destiny, you and Mydeimos are for each other, to always be intertwined and inseparable in this vast, vast universe.

–

“Lao Lao, why do we eat mooncakes during the Mid-Autumn Festival?” A little boy, no more than six- or seven-years-old sits at the dining table, feet kicking back and forth as they dangle off the edge of a chair meant for an adult. On the table, there is an array of emptied pots and plates, evidence of a large and festive meal devoured. Sitting directly across from him on the other side is his maternal grandmother.

“Because the lady on the moon likes them,” the grandma replies, preoccupied with tearing apart the packaging of a mooncake, which she hands to her grandson.

“Why do we care about the lady on the moon?”

The grandma’s eyebrows furrow. “Aye, Duo Duo, watch what you say! It is an important cultural celebration.”

“But why?”

“So many questions! She saved her husband, alright?”

“What happened to her husband?”

The grandson watches his grandma pause before recalling, “He was murdered by his student with a club made out of a peach tree.”

“Woah, that’s oddly specific. Did the husband love the lady on the moon?”

“Of course! Do you know nothing about the Mid-Autumn Festival? Before his death, the husband would burn incense and stare up at the moon every night to see his wife, and every year, today was the only day he could meet his wife in person. That is why we honor our ancestors during this festival, because we are closest to them now.”

The grandson shrugs, having lost interest halfway through his grandma’s explanation, romance lost on his inexperienced shoulders. “Sounds weird.”

“Duo Duo!”

The grandson ignores his grandma and pries open his mooncake. “Wait, Lao Lao, can you eat the yolk for me?”

“Aiyah, just eat it all yourself!”

103 notes · View notes

vxnuslogy · 3 days ago

Text

﹙💌﹚ a heart made of marble,

a gesture to say “i love you.” ୭౿

⸻ order has been delivered! to @tragedy-of-commons who ordered one purple hyacinth + kalon and eunoia for argenti.

𐔌 warnings. ooc-argenti ( please pardon me i haven’t written his character in so long TT ) ♡ the sender has a message! gwen you have no idea how much i had with this fic!! i hope you enjoy <3

━━━ banner credits. vxnuslogy ♡ tags. @tragedy-of-commons @starcharmed @mikashisus @https-sourlimes @dazaisms @powchakko @pneumosia rusted-pride @reocidal ; if you'd like to be tagged please fill out the forms in my pinned post !!

🏹 knight of idrila, argenti— how it must feel to be loved by someone like argenti ( or in which you walk straight into his surprise gift )

grand gestures of affection were normal for argenti, and for you, too. so for as long as you’ve been together, there’s this unspoken rule to try and playfully one-up each other in their own game. it mostly ,and if not always, lead to the both of you laughing under your breaths as the flush of love overtakes your cheeks in a pretty shade of pink.

with valentines coming up, you’ve been trying to sneak your way around the knight. trying your hardest to not expose your plans. you fully expected argenti to catch you by now—a messy kitchen, ingredients flying and wedging itself into every little crack and crevice, and even the smell of your adoration manifesting itself in your quaint little home, argenti does not notice.

until you find the hidden cavern of his planned worship.

you stand frozen in place, mouth hung open as you cradle a shaking hand to your jaw. tears well up in your eyes as you quietly enter his workspace with lithe footsteps, fearing all his hard work would crumble if you stepped on the floorboards too hard.

grand gestures of affection were normal for him—his love for beauty knows no bound, and it often left you wondering why he chose to stay with you. you could barely, if not at all, compare to the sights and people argenti has met under the guidance of his aeon. all unique and noteworthy of love in their own special ways. but you? you were an ordinary person, barely able to reciprocate his emotions without drowning in them like a child lost at sea.

argenti was the entire universe, holding every planet and nebula with compassionate hands. while you were a star, small and barely noticeable if you don’t know where to look, incomparable to the oceans he’s swimmed in and flowers he’s picked. you could not be taken from the skies and cradled in his hands because you refuse to leave your home.

but that’s the thing with argenti, he will always find a way to gently pluck you hair by hair from the sky and place you right inside the space reserved in his heart.

“oh dear…”

you turn back in a hurry, and there stood your knight in shining armor. hair set ablaze by fields of roses and eyes as fresh as spring. a frown settles on his lips when he realized you had walked straight into the surprise he’s kept under a satin cloth of your favorite color.

“you weren’t supposed to be here, my dear,” he murmured, taking easy steps until he’s face to face with you. like the gentleman that he is, his armored hand catches yours before you could slip away and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, eyes zoned in on you as if to say “i see you. won’t you come stay?” without actually uttering a word. a small smile twitched from your lips as argenti stands tall. hand still in his as he guided you forward—closer to his place of reverence.

“how long have you been working on this?” you asked in quiet marvel.

argenti smiled, guiding your hand to glide across the smooth marble. letting your fingers dip to every curve, bump, and detail you’d only assume would have taken years of practice to achieve. this was how argenti viewed you.

“time is simply irrelevant in the face of such beauty,” he replied in quiet joy. “my dear, why do you not see yourself as so?”

as if sensing your doubts from miles away, he pulled you closer until your chest hit the metal armor protecting his heart. and yet, you feel the core of his being beat in the rhythm of your name—warmth seeping into you as if he wanted you to melt right into him. and you do. melt like a puddle in his arms if it meant being protected by him.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin your surprise? i’ll make it up to you somehow,” it sounded more like a question than a reply but argenti merely chuckles in response.

“there’s no need, my dear. but if you insist,” argenti pulled away, just enough for you to come face to face again. in mere moments, his lips are pressed to forehead in a quiet promise. “will you kindly free your schedule next friday? i think it’s only fair you compensate me with your presence after your snooping.”

#hvntersloveletters #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #argenti fluff #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #( 🃑) – flush of creations .ᐟ

34 notes · View notes

pearlywritings · 4 months ago

Text

New day - same you

synopsis: morning routine with them and other sweet moments

pairing and characters: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dan Heng, Gallagher, Gepard Landau, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sunday, Veritas Ratio (separately) x reader

tw: established relationship (marriage/dating), fluff, halovian!reader in Sunday's, halovians have back wings here, foxian!reader in Jiaoqiu's (and his part is written before 2.5)

word count: ~4k words

Argenti

With Argenti it almost feels like competition - who's going to be the first to awake and marvel in the morning beauty of their sleeping lover. He, with his flashy but sincere words and loving kisses all over your wrists, and you, with your soft touches and quiet murmurs of the declarations of love.

The fog of the dream is hard to fight through this particular morning - Argenti stayed up way past midnight to fix the “One and Only’s” engine and practically fell into your embrace after the shower, worming his way under your lax arms. His body clock, however, is sending alarms to his brain, pushing him to wake up, stimulating the thought of opening his eyes and having a blessing of witnessing your angelic face.

Which is gone as soon as it appears. You, awake, and still holding your lover in your arms, tug him a bit closer and let his face nestle into the crook of your neck. As a fellow Knight of Beauty there is no hate in your heart for the broken engine that kept Argenti busy tonight, but it doesn't mean you can't dislike it and let him sleep a bit more. It's not like you two are rushing anywhere.

When your tender hand is laid upon his head, lovingly patting and threading fingers through the heavy locks of crimson hair, the knight feels bliss. His mind is sedated and willingly enters the gates of another dream, just as sweet as your presence.

This morning you may not have your share of compliments, breaking the little ritual, but it's more than alright. After all, the beauty of the proper rest is a nice alternative.

Aventurine

No matter what day it is - Aventurine is always the first one to wake up. An occupational hazard, if you could name working for the IPC this way. However, the one of the Stonehearts despises leaving the bed without you, and even more despises waking you up before your alarm clock goes off.

Aventurine is a busy man, who is used to starting his days with calls and messages, managing to have at least three little ‘meetings’ throughout his morning routine. And he can’t have you waking up from his voice taking a sharper edge in the conversation with one of the partners. So you reached a compromise - you sleep with earplugs and he gets to hold you in the morning while on the phone, waking you up with some nudges and kisses once the time comes.

He loves to see your sleepy but absolutely lovesick eyes after he pulls you out of the dream and lets you rest onto his chest with his arm around your body a bit longer, until this exact call is over.

Then you’d take your sweet time in the bathroom and then, as you are cooking breakfast and he is on the phone again, the man would cling to your back with his chin on your shoulder and one arm wrapped around your waist. Then he’d keep talking with you on his lap, keep talking with his hands busy with the dishes, keep talking as you pack his and your lunches. He’d be having the fourth or the fifth call by the time you are all dressed up and smoothing some invisible creases on his clothes, but he’ll always put the caller on hold to get his ‘good morning’ with a kiss and ‘have a wonderful day’ with another kiss.

But don’t be fooled - he does all that only because you explicitly expressed that you don’t mind. Just one word of yours - and he’ll swiftly finish the call, turning off his phone and giving you so much attention that by the time you both leave for work, you're gonna be affectionately sick of him.

Blade

It’s ten more minutes, the swordsman reminds himself after a quick glance at the wall clock and back to your sleeping figure. Nowadays, the Stellaron Hunter doesn’t deny you the request of staying in bed with you even if he can’t sleep normally and stays awake many hours through the night. After some nagging from you he even stopped getting in bed with his clothes on, opting for the sleeping pants and shirts you’ve bought for him to match most of yours.

Blade is leaning back on the headboard with a pillow squeezed in between as one hand, wrapped in bandages, resting on his thigh, while the other is carefully caressing the side of your head. It’s hard to believe that someone is able to snooze so peacefully next to a man like him, let alone, pressing their face into his thigh with arms wrapped around his leg.

And ‘peace’ is what Blade cherishes the most during the mornings spent with you. He makes you feel safe. You make him feel relaxed. His body next to yours is the fruit of your successful worming into his heart, your body next to his is his sanctuary. The man’s mind is at ease and he more often than not falls into the light slumber, dreamless, yet lacking nightmares too.

You crinkle your nose under the more prominent touch of his fingers across your face, and Blade stiffens. It’s still three minutes more, he doesn’t want to wake you up earlier than that. Yet at the same time, something inside him is burning with the strongest yearning of seeing your eyelids sliding up and the prettiest drowsy eyes looking up at him with so much adoration, that his heart starts bleeding like pierced.

The Stellaron Hunter looks at the clock again. One more minute. Maybe tomorrow morning he’ll let you both sleep in. Maybe it’s because you are not in any of the upcoming scripts. Or maybe it’s because he’d like to try cuddling once more.

Boothill

When in his travels, the cyborg doesn't sleep in the usual sense of this word. The correct way to describe it would be ‘recharge’, hiding somewhere in the secure corner, not even lying down, just sitting comfortably enough and letting his systems cool off and eyes plus brain rest.

When he is back home to you however… He literally starts whining and complaining if you take too long to join him in your shared bed.

Boothill always asks you to sleep in panties/shorts only. Not because he is a pervert (though he indeed can touch or lick or suck a time or two), but because in his absence he missed the heat and softness of your skin so much, that he immediately takes the little spoon position, burying his face into your chest and keening on the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp and playing with his hair.

He loves falling asleep to the tender thumping in your chest, and even more so he loves waking up to the very same sound. It reminds him that he isn't alone in this world, that even with all the losses he experienced he still has someone to adore and treasure. He always hugs your waist a little tighter upon awakening and presses a long kiss to the valley in the middle of your chest, closing his eyes and focusing on the deep breaths you release. It feels like heaven. It is home.

Plus, he loves your confident morning behavior, when you don't bother putting on a shirt after getting out of the bed and walking around the house still mostly bare, playfully swatting his hands away when he reaches to you with grabby motions. Well, given he sometimes walks around completely naked, he has nothing to accuse you of.

Dan Heng

Dan Heng isn’t particularly fond of you sleeping in his room. Not because he guards its contents akin to a dragon that fusses over its treasures or because he doesn’t want your body pressed close to his, no. Simply because his ‘bed’ is hard. And, admittedly, the mattress is not big enough to fit two people comfortably.

But you, oh you, are always so sweet about it and reassure him that you love the close proximity it brings, and that you are ready to deal with the slight body ache in the morning, understanding that Dan Heng himself is more at ease while staying in his own ‘den’ (he is working on it).

Mornings usually start with you on top of him - even in his unconscious state the man still worries about you, so he’d rather have you use him as a pillow (and, as you once teased him, he’d use you as a weighted blanket). Next, you’ll be swift to leave his side, throwing his coat on and quietly tiptoeing to the kitchen.

Usually, by the time you return, your boyfriend is already awake, but still staying under the blanket, waiting for you. He gratefully accepts a steaming mug with a calming herbal tea and you peck his cheek, flopping next to him with your own mug in a hand. You are sitting quietly, shoulders touching and knees bumping, while you are sipping on your drinks and chasing away the remnants of sleep.

Dan Heng smiles when you wiggle your feet under the blanket and put your head onto his shoulder, and as he turns his head to kiss the top of yours, securing a tender end to your special morning ritual, the man thinks he is indeed healing. And that’s what he cherishes about mornings with you most.

Gallagher

Gallagher takes extra long showers in the evenings after his shifts, because he doesn’t want to bring the smell of alcohol, cigarettes and anything else of the bar’s patrons to your bed. He doesn’t want you to grimace first thing in the morning and push him away, complaining about the stink. He’d much rather have your body tightly pressed against his, maybe face squished into his chest, arm thrown over his waist and legs stuck between his.

Gallagher loves just lazing in bed with you, as you are both awake. Loves rubbing his cheek against yours and hearing you reprimand him lightheartedly for the stubble. And yet, you never move away, welcoming his big palm resting on your hip, fingers lightly digging into fat and dragging you even closer to him.

Today you, however, throw a leg over his body and swiftly climb on top, immediately settling onto his chest like many times before. It’s because you know he has a night shift and you don’t plan to let him go until at least lunch. And your lover is strong, he can throw you off using just one arm or by simply turning his body under yours, but he does none of this, all because he absolutely adores your little sparks of possessiveness.

His heavy hand lowers onto your head, gently ruffling your hair, to which you grumble, poking his side with a single finger, only to scratch him lightly with all five a second later. Oh how deliciously he shivers and even a following pinch to your ass is unable to wipe a pleased smile off your face.

He’ll tell you stupid stories from the night before at the bar, share the worst jokes his patrons slurred and admit the teasing Sioban put him through once again, because ‘the old dog was glancing at the clock, counting the minutes till running home to you’. And you’ll be laughing. And he’ll be laughing too.

Gepard Landau

The Captain of the Silverman Guards is obviously the man of schedule. He wakes up at the same time, he wraps up his morning routine in the same period of time, and he leaves the house at the same time.

Every morning the man is trying his hardest to get out of the bed as sneakily as he can, because otherwise there are chances of waking you up and his heart cries when you follow him around wrapped in the blanket while whining that it’s so cold to be out of the bed and his warmest embrace (yes, you’re sometimes faking it, but come on, your golden retriever of a boyfriend is warm and comfy to cuddle with).

Can never deny you, when you squeeze yourself past him in the hot shower, explaining that yes, you are cold, and yes, it’s saving water (obviously not to admire your handsome lover and steal a couple of morning kisses from him).

You are still sleepy as the water is gushing on your body, which is held in place by two strong hands on your hips. Gepard can’t take his eyes from your cute droopy expression and smiles softly when you lift your head to let the water splash against your face. He doesn’t like it when you sacrifice your sleep in the mornings, but he can’t lie to himself that he loves spending these moments with you either. He gently brushes your wet locks away from your cheeks and forehead, leaning down to plant a small peck on your chin.

A cheerful ‘hooray’ is coming out in bubbles due to the water getting into your mouth, but you don’t care, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into his chest instead. Oh Qlipoth, let this poor man be not that obvious with the raging blush from the new mark blooming under his uniform while leaving the house

Jiaoqiu

Waking up with the rays of rising sun to throw on an embroidered robe and get to the kitchen to cook another delicious breakfast for you and him is indeed a pleasurable and relaxing part of the healer’s morning. However, much more than that he enjoys wondering in his head who’s going to wake up hugging whose tail the evening before, just to arise the next morning and see if his guess is right.

Opening his fanged mouth in a big yawn and squeezing still shut honey golden eyes even more, Jiaoqiu starts his day with a nice full body stretch. Something soft gets into his mouth and immediately jerks, provoking an abrupt puff of air released from the male’s lungs. There is a dissatisfied mumble somewhere close to his collarbones, and when heavy eyelids slide open, the foxian catches just the swift motion of your ears pressing back against your head.

He can't help but smile softly, leaning down and kissing the top of it (his own pink ear slightly twitching as you quietly murmur in delight), then moving back and looking down to assess your sleeping positions.

Face to face and legs tangled together, your bodies lay closely to each other. With your nose buried into his neck and arms wrapped around his frame, Jiaoqiu, to his greatest disappointment, notices both your tails peacefully resting on the mattress behind your backs.

What a pity… Now it means you won't be helping him comb through his fur to make it look presentable and he won't be doing the same to you… Unless…

As the clawed hand carefully reaches behind you with a clear intention to mess up your tail and sly eyes crinkle in mischief, Jiaoqiu is truly ready to start his morning routine even to the extent of your complaints.

Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan is a true connoisseur of soft things. He has the fluffiest carpets back at home, silkiest fabrics for clothes, his bed is like one big white cloud, and his pet is a lion with a huge mane. Not to mention his beloved, who has the softest thighs to nap onto in the whole universe (he has never compared to others, but he is a firm believer).

The General has been having trouble waking up in the morning for a while now. Alarm clock? Ignored. Mimi’s nudges and complaining groans? Ignored too. Your loving voice and tender kisses all over his face? Careful, he is the Dozing General, not the Weak one - you are very much at risk every time to be dragged back in bed in your husband's embrace.

And that little fight you put up every morning to get him from under the blanket and send him off to the bathroom is his favorite part. Just like today.

If anyone was to walk into your bedroom, they'd see a strange image of your strained form being hunched and jerking backwards, trying to rip your arm from an iron grasp, and just a single hand visible in the mess of pillows and blankets, holding onto your wrist and trying to pull you back onto the bed.

You swear, the man hasn't even opened his eyes, relying solely on his other sharp senses to effortlessly catch you when you tried to flee after kissing him good morning.

It's pointless to remind him of the meeting today - he'll get there in time either way, but you still try to hold your ground and win this fight of stubbornness.

Jing Yuan laughs, when with a loud gasp you fall onto his swiftly sitting up figure and are immediately thrown back onto the bed with his sturdy body pinning yours underneath. He loves the heat of your face he feels when his cheek is pressed to yours. He adores when you wiggle under him, refusing to admit that this display of his strength didn't leave you hot and bothered. And he is absolutely smitten when eventually you let out a long exasperated sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders, admitting your defeat, agreeing to sleep for a little bit more.

Loucha

The merchant is too used to the feeling of loneliness in his travels. Getting out of a hardly couple-of-days-familiar bed, grabbing a pin from a nightstand table to fix a quick messy bun and, swiftly stopping by the bathroom to freshen up his sleepy face, the man drags his feet to the kitchen.

Oil is sizzling in a pan, as the man throws the cut vegetables in it, grabbing a spatula. He is barefoot, still in his sleep wear and long locks of golden hair hanging in messy waves to his shoulder length. It’s the sight that is hard to resist, and as much as you’d love to keep watching your lover, so uncharacteristically unkept and cozy, the need to get closer to him gets too strong. As your arms encircle his waist and lips press to wherever you can reach, Loucha doesn’t fight a soft smile. Yes, on some of his trades he’s on his own, but your presence is such a sedative to his soul and mind.

You ask him what he is cooking and he answers, letting you duck your head under his arm, so you could see for yourself, and then offers you to choose something extra if you so desire. Giving him your response, you immediately suggest helping, but he declines, carefully prying one of your hands from his stomach and lifting it to his lips, murmuring how he doesn’t want your pretty fingers to get all tired and dirty in the very morning.

But you are a little stubborn, so when he lets you go, you stay behind his back and reach for a simple jade pin, heroically holding the whole mass of his hair, and take it out, letting the heavy waves cascade down his back. The fingers he’s just been so worried about, bury into the locks, brushing out the knots, dividing in parts and then twisting them one around another, collecting his hair into a nice, but simple braid.

The merchant is used to spending his mornings alone. But admittedly he loves you being by his side and your adorable little gestures much more.

Sunday

It is a well-known fact that the halovian has OCD and his prior commitment to the Order only proves it more strongly. Admittedly, ever since he’s been released from Gopher Wood’s clutches and left Penacony, he’s been getting better: less paranoid, less twitchy, more forgiving to not only ones around him, but himself. He’s been working on abandoning some of his habits, going as far as styling his clothes in a kind of mismatched yet still smart manner. And still he’s having a hard time not to fuss over his appearance.

While sleeping, Sunday is restless. Having been sharing a bed with him for a long time, you’ve been a witness to all - thrashing from side to side, kicking off and then dragging back the blanket, both head and back wings flapping in sleep, messing equally his feathers and hair (sometimes yours too).

And sometimes, Sunday wants to cry. It’s so intimate, it’s so sweet, it’s something he was used to doing on his own, but here you are - doing it for him, cooing lovingly and pressing tender kisses to the smaller wings protruding from the back of his head, making them tremble slightly and the milky skin of his cheeks - flash with crimson.

But you are understanding. You are gentle, when you offer the miserably looking man your hands and tug him out of the bed, walking him to the huge mirror and asking him to sit down in front of it. Your hands are soft and careful, as they are grooming his wings, rearranging the feathers correctly, removing broken ones, fluffing up the beautiful plumage that reminds of the night sky.

And you trust him to do the same for you! His hands are shaking, his breath is hitching while you keep encouraging him to clean up your wings after sleep, being nothing but patient as the morning sun arises.

The ex-head of the Oak Family used to say that patience is a virtue, but in the dawn glow of your bedroom it turns into his paradise.

Veritas Ratio

No matter what your sleep schedule is, Veritas is always the first one to wake up. Sitting up he reaches for his nightstand drawer, tapping the phone’s screen to stop the alarm clock’s ringing. His other hand automatically reaches for the black-furred critter, nestled onto his lap, to gently pat its soft ‘shell’, receiving a quiet content chirp. Once done with the phone, the man turns to the other side of the bed, reddish-pink eyes lowering to your still sleeping form, with another critter snoozing under your arm. One more is spotted at the end of the bed.

Every single morning Veritas witnesses the same view - well, maybe your sleeping pose is different, or the placement of your ‘cats’ on the bed, or how much of the blanket you've either stolen from him or on the contrary thrown at him… still it's always you, him and your recently adopted pets.

And every single morning your lover can't help but take some minutes from his work out session and dedicate them to simply sitting in bed next to you, observing, doing his own little research. Today he notes how you've moved slightly onto his part of the bed, head occupying both yours and a small part of his pillow. Then his gaze moves downwards, noticing the covers being pulled down your waist and feet peeking from under the blanket. That's so you - feeling stuffy and hot yet still moving closer to his body.

Carefully, not to disturb you and give a couple of more minutes to rest, Veritas bends down and kisses your cheek, testing another hypothesis of his - would you smile in your sleep, upon feeling the touch of his lips on your skin?

He is surprised, when you open your eyes, staring back at him in a haze. Sensing your awakening, the orange critter practically zooms from under your arm, then onto the man’s pillow and off the bed, disappearing somewhere in the hallway. But he hardly pays attention to it. No, his eyes are glued to yours and that sweet smile that tugs on the corners of your mouth as you reach forward to circle his neck with your arms.

Yes, his thinks contented, closing his eyes, another hypothesis of his has been proven right.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #aventurine x reader #blade x reader #boothill x reader #dan heng x reader #gallagher x reader #gepard landau x reader #jiaoqiu x reader #jing yuan x reader #loucha x reader #sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail fluff

4K notes · View notes

unriding · 17 days ago

Text

TRYING TO TAKE YOU HOME WHEN YOU DON’T RECOGNIZE THEM. ft. dan heng, jing yuan, mydei, phainon, and sunday.

sfw. f!reader. in which the hsr men try their best to convince you that they really are your boyfriend and not a complete stranger trying to take you back home after a long night out.

cw for implied alcohol consumption. not mentioned otherwise — just the silly scenario where reader seemingly doesn’t recognize them upon first glance. prompt from anon on prev blog! fem!reader for all.

— DAN HENG.

He wonders if this was truly the best course of action.

“Give me back my jacket, you jerk...” your words come out slurred, barely mustering the strength needed to keep your hold on his sleeve as you trail behind him down the street.

His jacket — he'd usually correct you — but he doesn't this time, lest you eventually come to the conclusion that the mentioned jacket isn't even yours and therefore holds no importance.

“Soon. The agreement we settled on was that if you don't make a scene, I'll give it back.”

It sounds like a threat.

And if someone were to spot him now, this would certainly paint his image in a light that he would much rather not be perceived in, if given the choice.

He knows this all too well — apparent from the nervous sweat collecting along his temples and the frequent clearing of his throat whenever your grip begins to loosen, but you seem to only giggle at the statement now, eagerly nodding along.

“Really? You pinkie promise, stranger? I'll be reaaall quiet then.”

“Yes,” his brows furrow — from either stress or a sense of urgency that you don't seem to have, “I give you my word. So, please, keep your voice down and follow me.”

You respond with a cheerful hum before eventually falling silent again, the street quiet aside from the patter of your clumsy footsteps following closely behind his own.

Though it’s short-lived, much to Dan Heng’s misery.

Only about a minute or two goes by until you start to tug on his sleeve, and his heart nearly stops beating in his chest. Perhaps you’ve already realized. Or perhaps you’ve pegged him as a dangerous type of guy — which wouldn’t surprise him, given the circumstances.

“Hey…” you tug once more, even harder now, and then stop walking entirely — shifting your weight backwards to avoid being pulled straight into him.

Uh oh.

“Hey.... stranger?” You're mumbling now, eyes locked on the floor, and his breath is stuck in his throat.

“I'm sleepy.”

“You.. you want to sleep,” He repeats, still uncertain — his words coming off a bit too similar to that of a question. “Right now?”

You nod, hands coming to rub at your eyes, as if doing so could wipe away the sudden wave of drowsiness that has overtaken you. Though, your efforts prove to be futile in the end, with each blink becoming slower than the last.

“Yes,” you murmur, “Here. I'm going to nap … and then .. and then I need to find my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. A part of him is relieved you remember, at least. Perhaps the other critical piece of information will find its way back to you soon as well.

Your eyes flutter back open when something familiar is draped across your shoulders. “Don't sleep here.”

“Here,” he turns around, lowering himself onto a knee to gesture for you to climb on. “I'll take you to your boyfriend.”

— JING YUAN.

“My boyfriend taught me how to fight, so don’t you even dare.”

He blinks, once, twice — the hand gently patting your head a moment ago now entirely frozen in place. “Oh?”

It makes sense as soon as you turn to glare at him. While he’s rather certain he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a look, another part of him — his heart, skips a happy beat over how adorable you look, even if you’re not smiling at him like usual.

“I see,” Jing Yuan continues again, only a moment later, taking a seat beside you (and choosing to ignore the way you make the conscious effort to scoot an inch away from him). Sassily so, he might add, similar to the way you so endearingly turn your body away from him and puff your cheek out when he’s teased you just a bit too much for your liking.

His hand finds its way back to you again, slower this time — traces over your cheek until he gently cups it in an effort to feel the warmth radiating from your skin. A chuckle almost betrays him and slips out at the sight of your eyes nearly fluttering shut, subconsciously leaning into his touch until you abruptly come back to your senses and swat at his hand.

He smiles at you. “Hm. Your boyfriend — is that right?”

Your eyes narrow at the amusement in his voice, likely wondering why a stranger would be speaking to you so familiarly. “My boyfriend. The one with a suuuper heavy weapon that …. that you probably couldn’t pick up … with help.”

“Ah, how admirable he must be. You have no need for worry — I would never dream of wielding such a weapon.”

You huff before deciding to face the opposite direction, all whilst scooting a secondary inch away from him. Perhaps a third, for extra measure.

“This boyfriend of yours,” he speaks again, holding back a chuckle when you dramatically sigh at the sound of his voice once again, “surely he wouldn’t mind someone like myself keeping you company until he returns, wouldn’t you think?”

“I have grown quite curious. Perhaps he would allow me to see this impressive weapon for myself.”

— MYDEI.

“Actually, you’re rather comfy, stranger.”

Mydei only huffs in response before glancing over his shoulder from where you’re draped over his left like a sack of potatoes, quickly confirming that … as of now, you still seem content, at least.

“I’ve told you before. I’m no stranger.” The singular arm currently holding your thighs to his chest tightens, and you only giggle against his back, arms freely dangling beneath you. “Yeah, yeah.”

You’ve been surprisingly cooperative. In fact, he thinks he should make a mental note to remind you about being less trusting of strangers tomorrow — because .. surely, it should not have been so easy to convince you that he could simply carry you to your ‘boyfriend.’

Even now, when he’s seemingly been reduced to nothing aside from a mere stranger, you’re as inviting and friendly to him as ever — mumbling something about his strength, followed by a worried “Hey but — let me know if you get tired or anything, okay?”

So, he lets you talk, opting to silently listen to you ramble on about your day (aside from the occasional glances over his shoulder to check on you). It’s only when he hears a sudden shift in your voice that he stiffens.

“Say…” you start, drawing patterns along his back with a finger, as if nervous about his response. “Do you think Mydei’s worried?”

“I don’t want to worry him,” he lets you continue, eyes shifting back to the path ahead of him. “What do you think, strong stranger? He won’t be mad, right? Or sad, maybe?”

He huffs. “No. He wouldn’t be mad. Not at you.”

— PHAINON.

“Oh.” You hug your knees in disappointment to let out another heavy sigh, one far too telling of your emotions — practically seeping back into your lonely puddle when you realize that this person who had found you in your corner was also in fact… not your boyfriend.

“‘Oh?’ Well, someone doesn’t sound very excited to see me.”

The stranger decides to approach you anyway, taking a seat on the tiles beside you before letting out an exhale himself, back of his head coming to lightly rest against the wall. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hmph,” you leer at him from where your head is halfway buried in your arms, knees hugged tightly against your chest. “I wanted to see my boyfriend, not some random person. I’m tired, y’know.”

“Your boyfriend? How strange.” The confusion starts to leave his face the longer he looks at you — lips curling ever so slightly at the idea that suddenly comes to mind.

“He must be cruel … to leave you here all by yourself.”

He almost slips and calls you cute when you stick an arm out to weakly jab a finger into his shoulder, turning your head to the side again to mutter a “Hey. He’s not cruel.”

Truly too cute — the way your eyes have narrowed into something resembling a glare — the same one you always give him whenever you scold him for being too careless. Though, it tends to fade as soon as it comes, replaced with soft kisses against the crown of his head as you lull him back to sleep.

“Aw,” He’s smiling now, “You’re certain he’s not cruel?”

“Obviously I’m certain,” You huff, ignoring the way he seems to look happier at this and hugging your knees even tighter against your chest. “I like being around him. A whole lot, actually.”

The way his eyes begin to soften at your (unintentional) affection most definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed by you, he’s sure, nor the way his hand twitches — wanting nothing but to extend in your direction to pull you in for a hug. Though, luckily enough for him, you’ve settled on resting your head in the comfort of your own arms again, oblivious to the lovesick one seated beside you.

“I’ll make sure to tell him again … when I see him. So let me be, you weird stranger.”

— SUNDAY.

If someone happened to be wondering whether a halovian’s wings flap awkwardly when rendered completely speechless — this would be their golden opportunity to witness it firsthand.

“M-my apologies,” his wings flutter again, then a third time when your hand only tightens around his wrist, eyes narrowing at him in suspicion. “Please excuse me. I was only checking for your temperature, since you seem to be rather…”

“No.” You don’t let go. In fact, you hold onto him as if you’ve just now captured a crook attempting to steal March’s snacks.

“..Forgive me,” his eyes flicker from your hand to your eyes — then back to your hand. As if there may be a slim chance that you’ve simply forgotten about the ironclad grip on his wrist and would release him from his confinement, soon. Surely. “Then perhaps I should go get you a glass of wa—”

“No.”

“…”

“I… I see.” The nervous flutter of his wings shifts to something more sheepish — one wing moving to cover his mouth, as if deep in thought. Which wouldn’t be far from the truth, for even someone such as himself is left dumbfounded by your current behavior. “Then.. is there anything you’d like for me to help with? Someone like March may be better suited for..”

“My boyfriend…” he falls silent as soon as you speak, noting the softness of your words now — barely above a hushed whisper (though the familiarity has him quickly perking up in response). “I want my boyfriend.”

His head tilts at this. Subtly. Truly confused — and even more so when your brows furrow only a second later, followed by a tug on his wrist. “I want my boyfriend.”

“You’re stuck with me until we find my boyfriend.”

2K notes · View notes

pearlymel · 7 months ago

Text

That boy is mine.

୨୧ Summery: hsr men and their love languages.

୨୧ Including: Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Sunday, Veritas Ratio, Argenti.

୨୧ Warnings: none. Gn! Reader, All fluff, just the hsr men spoiling you like how you should be spoilt.

♡︎ Aventurine— receiving gifts.

“Err, Aventurine? This is the fifth diamond bracelet this month.”

“Today is a special day.”

“You say that everyday…” you whisper to yourself in amusement while your fingers brush over the expensive material sealed around your wrist. You try not to sound disappointed because—you’re not really disappointed but rather confused or guilty for him spending so recklessly with you.

Upon seeing the guilt he knew so well etched on your face, he quickly steps closer, “It looks pretty on you, which is all the reason i need.” He teases, his hand snaking towards your lower back. “You didn’t complain about the shoes and necklace I bought you,” he shrugs with a grin plastered on his face and you shake your head in return.

“I appreciate everything you do to me, i just dislike it when a lot of money is wasted.” You gently scold him but he brushes it off with a laugh.

“Darling, you need to stop thinking like this. Money was meant to be spent.” He playfully flickers your forehead, before gently caressing the spot with his thumb.

“How can i ever spoil you back, hmm?” He grins at your question, his thumb that was caressing your forehead moves to your chin. Holding it with a firm, yet gentle grip. “I told you, silly,” he murmurs, leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours. “All you have to do is be cute, and give me a kiss every once in a while.”

“… is that it?” Your figure almost slumps at his too simple requests. From now on, you’d try harder to shower him with all the kisses and affection.

“That’s all it takes. Your cute little reactions and your pretty face are more than enough to spoil such a simple man, like me.” He says, his hand slipping down to your waist, pulling you closer. You take ahold of his face with your hands, pulling his face to give his lips some attention, his hand tightening around your waist “will this suffice?”

“I’m a bit greedy, one more.” He whispers, and you press your lips against his again for another chaste kiss. “Again,” he says in a bit more demanding tone this time, taking over the lead and kissing you even deeper, trailing his lips along your jawline then a final kiss just below your earlobe. Your whole face burning just from simple kisses.

“I will get you anything you want, everything you desire,” he whispers against your neck, “A yacht, a penthouse, jewels, whatever you want. My only condition is you stay with me, and make those cute little noises when i spoil you.”

“Cute little noises?” You squint your eyes at him, pulling back to see him, “you mean.. my surprised expressions?”

“Exactly like that. The soft gasps, wide eyes, and adorable smile.” You grins while taking you in a crushing embrace and you only laugh back at him.

♡︎ Jing Yuan— physical touch.

You suddenly can’t breath when the general came home particularly clingy today. Big arms preventing you from escaping his hold with his lips not leaving any spot untouched on your face.

“Missed you today,” he would whisper in his thick raspy voice, hands roaming around your body with strands of his hair almost covering your face, “my pretty spouse.” His voice is muffled from his face buried in your neck.

“You’re the clingiest man i know.”

His suddenly stopped for a moment, expression darkening slightly, “you know other men?”

“Ohh, the most jealous one too.” You chuckle when he shoots you a pout, sometimes you could imagine him looking like a big sad lion.

“Not that I’m complaining.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead, and just like that, his shoulders relax and his golden eyes seem to shine just a bit brighter. “Was work harsh on you today?”

Jing Yuan let out a drawn-out sigh, "Exhausting is more like it," he replied with a tired smile. "Still need to train Yanqing later tonight per his request,"

His expression softened as he looked down to meet your gaze.

"I've been looking forward to this time with you all week." He hums, resting his head on your chest and your hand immediately finds its place on his hair. Jing Yuan smiles as he feels your delicate fingers take out the red ribbon from his long, white hair, letting it cascade down to his shoulders.

"I should call in sick tomorrow," he grins when he hears you quietly chuckle, beginning to lean on you as your fingers worked through his hair.

“Is this the general of the luofu?” You decide to tease him a bit, his rough hands squeezing your thighs in return. “No, this is just your spouse now. All putty for you."

♡︎ Veritas Ratio— Quality time.

Ratio was sprawled on his stomach, a large book held in his hands. He was so engrossed in the content that he didn't even hear you enter the room until you jumped onto the bed.

“What are you doing?” You simply ask as you make space for yourself next to him, He turned his head to glance at you for a second before returning his attention to the page.

"Reading a book on advanced mathematics," he replied, his voice sounding a bit distracted. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

“Oh the boring stuff.”

"Boring? Excuse you. This stuff happens to be quite fascinating. Not everyone can appreciate the complexity and beauty of mathematical theory, you know."

Your brain goes short circuit at his explanation, and you shake your head instead. "You can read your amazing stuff to yourself while i... Maybe brush your hair?"

Ratio couldn't help but scoff at your suggestion. "Brush my hair, really? What, do you think I'm a doll or something?"

But secretly, the idea of you running your fingers through his hair had a certain appeal to him. He shrugged nonchalantly, feigning indifference.

"Fine, go ahead. Do with my hair whatever makes you happy, I suppose."

"Yay," you immediately grab the brush from your drawer and gesture him to lean back against your chest, and he immediately obliged. Melting back against your chest while holding his book to his lap. “I love you,” you then whisper and he only hums in return.

You huff at his silence, "I thought you were going to say something like 'oh i love you to the moon and back!' or 'i actually don't love you'." You say in a mocking tone.

Ratio chuckled again, shaking his head in mock annoyance. "Oh, so you're expecting some sappy, romantic cliché, are you? Sorry to disappoint you, darling."

He reached up and gently poked your forehead with his index finger. "I don't think I could actually say something like that with a straight face. I have standards, you know."

Then you tug his hair gently with the brush, showing your annoyance, making him gasp. "Hey, careful with the hair," he protested half-heartedly, feigning irritation. "Do you want me to go bald before I'm thirty?"

"At least you look pretty now." You hand him a mirror to show him the creation you've made on his hair. Tiny braids.

“Aeons, what have you done to my hair?”

"I made an artwork, thank you very much."

He took another look at his reflection in the mirror, tilting his head to examine the braids in his hair from different angles.

“Artwork, you say?” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Looks more like a bird’s nest, if you ask me.”

You blink twice at his words, "Wait, what if birds actually lay their eggs on your hair?" His smirk vanished, replaced by a look of mock horror. "Oh gods, please don't give them ideas," he said, you both quickly start unbraiding his hair.

♡ Sunday— Acts of service.

“Is this better, love?” Sunday asks softly when he took off his coat to drape it around your shoulders instead, and you nod your head. He wouldn’t want his beloved to catch a cold now.

Both of you decided to go on a walk in penacony as a date, just to enjoy each other’s presence for the night.

He wraps a protective hand around your waist, moving to walk on the side of the street while you were safely walking on the sidewalk.

“I wouldn’t ask for anything more.” You smile brightly under the light poles. "I’m relieved to hear that, darling." Sunday replied with a pleasant hum, giving your hips a gentle squeeze as you leaned into him for warmth. He smiled at your laugh, finding your happiness to be such a joyous sight. you had always been such an angelic being in his eyes; just the sight of your smiling and laughing was enough for his heart to flutter madly in his chest.

"careful, dont trip. watch your step."

You step to the side just in time to avoid tripping over a few rocks, giving him the sweetest smile, "Always caring for me, my love."

Sunday felt his cheeks flush ever so faintly at your smile. The soft feathers of his wings grazing his cheeks in a failed attempt to hide the redness. Your sweet personality and mannerisms tugging at the strings of his heart in an almost dizzying manner.

"i cant possibly let my angel hurt themself on our date, now can i?"

It was your turn for your cheeks to flush at his words. Your tried turning around to avoid him seeing your face when your hand landed upon a bush of flowers.

You carefully pluck the crimson one before handing it to him, "for you,”

He took the flower from your hand and twirled it between his fingers, admiring the pretty, crimson hue. he tucked it behind his ear, the red complimenting his hair nicely.

he chuckled in amusement. “it's beautiful. how did you know red is my favourite colour?"

"Is it? Last time i gave you a blue shirt and you said it was your favourite colour." You laugh, plucking another flower to tuck it right at the fluttering wings next to his ears.

“Hmm, everything you give me is my favorite. That’s only fair.” For some reason the way Sunday talks, makes you believe for sure that you’re definitely safe with him.

♡ Argenti— words of affirmation.

“I cannot get enough of you.” he murmured against your hair. It’s quieter than usual now with his presence, which is something you don’t hate either.

"You flatter me with your words, darling." You whisper, feeling protected around his arms, with your head resting on his chest where you could listen to his heart beat rather quicker than usual.

"And you flatter me with your presence, my love," Argenti replied, his voice a deep and velvety rumble. His hand rose to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek for a moment too long.

The steady rhythm of his heart seemed to pick up its pace as it thumped against his chest, a subtle giveaway of his growing excitement. "You make my heart beat faster than it should," he confessed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Your words always manages to make me fall head over heels for you.” You say dreamily, taking a few on his red end strands of hair to twirl with. He laughed softly, shifting his position so he could look down at you. He gently tilted your chin up, his thumb gently grazing your jawline.

"Where do I even begin? Your beauty is without equal, a sight so captivating it robs me of my breath every time I lay my eyes upon you," he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with affection. "Your intelligence is like a rare gem, sharper than the finest sword and just as precious. Every moment spent with you is a treasure, my love."

You shift in your place a bit to take a good look at his face, and you only see gentleness and sincerity behind it.

“I lied, my skin might burn from all this sweetness.” You admit, pressing your chin against his shoulder.

Argenti laughed again, and you might think it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He gently wrapped his arms around yours, "Seeing the effect I have on you is a sight more beautiful than any sunrise," he purred, voice dripping like honey, his hand now moving to glide down your neck, fingers tracing patterns on your nape.

"I will never tire of making your skin burn, my love. Each blush and shiver you give me only adds fuel to my desire for you." His thumb traced circles on your nape, and you could just sleep right here.

“I never thought I would be this… desire-able?” You mumble, the hint of insecurity showing, making him sigh.

"Nonsense,” he tightens his arms around you, “The way you move, the sound of your voice, the way you look at me... it drives me to the brink of madness. I find myself craving you at all hours of the day, constantly longing for your touch, your presence alone is enough to make me weak in my knees."

You frown at his words, relaxing right here, in the arms of your lover, “you’re too precious.”

“Likewise, darling.”

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail fluff #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #sunday #sunday x reader #Veritas Ratio #veritas ratio x reader #ratio x reader #argenti #argenti x reader #honkai star rail x reader #fanfic #hsr men #hsr x you #honkai star rail

4K notes · View notes

yyuangss · 9 months ago

Text

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.

#@ 𝐘𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐒 ★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀𝐈: 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋 #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #caelus x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #argenti x reader #hsr argenti x reader

4K notes · View notes

moonsaver · 9 months ago

Text

Sunday who wakes you up by fluttering his wings on your face, chuckling softly when you scrunch up your nose because it tickles.

Sunday who takes photos of you while you sleep, and shows them to you proudly. You can comment all you want about the drool and the hair wildly splayed on your face, but Sunday finds it endearing. He has a specific album comprising of your photos.

Sunday who leaves behind little notes with neat handwriting on surfaces for you to find as you get through your routine. He's not happy that he has to leave so much more earlier in the morning, so to make up for it he pens down little neat notes for you to keep. He's delightfully surprised when you tell him you have them in your drawer, stored safely.

Sunday who, when he sees you in public, has to hold back from kissing your forehead, from lovingly fixing your hair and clearing loose stands of hair from your face. He stays satisfied with handholding, at least.

Sunday, who when finally back in your arms, relaxes into you, burying his face at the junction of your neck. At your insistence, he's become more comfortable being the little spoon, and you won't admit how much you enjoy the extent of his clinginess he's trying to hold back.

Sunday, who, on the rare occasion gets to see you get ready, watches you mesmerized through your reflection in the mirror as you get ready, immediately at your beck and call when you ask for help, lovingly reaching down at you, eyes still fixed onto you as you continue.

Sunday, who comforts you after a particularly long or tiring day. He doesn't say anything unless you're starting a conversation. He rubs your shoulder, your face half buried in his. His wings gently lay on your eyes to soothe you. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, gently tucking you into bed.

Sunday, who loves hearing the sound of your laughter in the kitchen early morning – tired from sleep but excited to talk to him. He looks at you curiously when you hug him from behind, a sweet laugh leaving him at your little antics.

5K notes · View notes

myderis · 2 days ago

Text

(separate!) mydei, phainon, anaxa 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.5k

You smile as you turn to the Trailblazer, recounting an old memory from your childhood. "One time when MYDEI challenged me to a sparring match. He thought he could win because he was taller and stronger. Poor guy."

"You threw sand in my eyes." Walking behind with his arms crossed, was your favorite and only sparring partner. Shrugging your shoulders, you grinned at your friend from another world. "It’s called using my environment. Don’t tell me you’re still bitter about it."

"It’s called cheating," Mydei grumbles, arms still crossed. "I had sand in my hair for weeks."

You chuckle and look away, pretending to be innocent. "What? No, I never cheat... Okay, fine, maybe more than once. But he doesn’t need to know that." You lean toward the Trailblazer, whispering the last part while your eyes gaze at the prince.

The three of you continue exploring Castrum Kremnos, the ruins around you standing as a reminder of the past, their beauty still undeniable despite the decay. Mydei keeps a quiet pace behind you, but you can tell he's not truly mad about the sand—just reminiscing.

“My love, please stop doing that.” PHAINON sighed, watching you hold your cards, clearly plotting your victory. You were close to winning, if not for your very observant boyfriend.

“Stop doing what?” you peeked over from your cards, feigning innocence, trying to convince him that you weren’t up to anything sneaky. He really should sleep more, he was starting to hallucinate things.

“Hmm, I see. Fine by me, if you want to play like this.”

Uh-oh, trouble. You knew exactly where this was going. He already knew your tricks, but he was letting you think you had the upper hand.

"Are you sure you want to keep going?" His voice had a knowing tone, though his lips curled into that damned smirk. You smiled sheepishly, realizing he was playing along. But that didn’t mean you were about to let it go that easily. You leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I’m sorry, love. Learn to accept losing."

He raised an eyebrow, but apologies can also be accepted with kisses.

No more philosophy, no more scholars, practical study, or politics… For once you are enjoying the peace, and unknowingly, ANAXA follows you here, ready to perhaps congratulate you for the well-done job at the Grove of Epiphany.

“You certainly know how to get someone’s attention. Quite impressive, darling.” His voice was calm as always, and all you wanted was an escape from all this tension and unnecessary stress, but apparently, you attract the things you don't want. You turned to face him, trying to mask your exhaustion. “I’m quite the charmer, you see,”

But the sage wasn’t fooled, not by you. He never was because, to him, you were an open book, one he’d read countless times but still found endlessly fascinating. Anaxa tilted his head, observing you and you knew what was coming.

“I may not believe in gods,” he said softly, stepping closer, “but I believe in you. You did well, still tell me … was it really your work? Or was it borrowed brilliance?” You sighed, letting your head rest on his chest, and by the silence, he got his answer and for the first time in a long while, the sage didn’t press any further.

321 notes · View notes

jingyuans-precious · 6 months ago

Text

“s not enough..” he mumbles into your shoulder before trailing his lips down to your collarbones that were littered with his love bites, the ultimate proof of his love, he claims.

“you’re so good to me, my love” he says while moving up to place gentle kisses on your neck. “maybe too good.” your lover lets out a soft sigh as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.

“no i’m not” you chuckle at his adorable show of affection.

“yes you are” your lover says as he grabs your hand gently and intertwines your fingers with his, a sign that your lover will always want to hold onto you and never let go. even if he supposedly thinks you’re too good for him.

“no~” you giggle as you squeezed your intertwined hands gently.

“yes” he huffs softly and nuzzles your neck gently, your lover truly looked so adorable this way, as if to win you over with affection and have you admit that you are in fact, so damn good for him.

“fine” you finally say as you give in to your lover’s endearing antics.

— Aventurine, Ayato, CHILDE, JING YUAN, Kaeya, Marius von Hagen, Rafayel, Wriothesley + your faves ♡

a/n: decided to add lnds and tot!

1K notes · View notes

persicipen-archive · 23 days ago

Text

PHAINON. HONKAI STAR RAIL ﾉ gn reader ᯽ entering the public bath in okhema just to get absolutely embarrassed by phainon undressing in front of you because he’s too handsome ᯽ FLUFF (BARELY SUGGESTIVE) CONTENT ᯽

So… perhaps you just weren’t entirely aware of how much of importance a bathing ritual holds here in Okhema until you witnessed it yourself. Such a startling view it must be to see the beautiful moonlight-haired hero turn his back on you with his arms already opening the sides of his coat. You notice a tiny tremble of exhaustion along his biceps when layer after layer he — pretty much shamelessly or just not expecting you to react any differently from other visitors — disrobes from the garments stained by today’s battle.

Speechless (which is probably for the best) and with your lips parted in disbelief, you observe the elegant motions of his fingers now unfastening the belt holding up his trousers. There are little specks of blood and sand on them; as if hypnotised, you almost miss the moment when they slither off from his muscular legs like a gentle curtain revealing a marble statue.

Unsure if it’s the ever-changing temperature of the public baths or if you truly are getting a fever, the image of his broad shoulders and sculpted back unravels before your eyes in a haze. It makes you feel oddly light-headed as your gaze slides down along his spine, which then dips right above the loose sash covering the tempting roundness of his ass.

Without wasting time, Phainon glances back at you with an innocent and encouraging smile, oblivious to your current predicament, and then he steps forward to slip into the warm water with a fatigued exhale of utter contentment… hoping you’ll join him very soon…

“This feels great… Come on!” He encourages once more with another glimpse over the shoulder — and all the while completely missing out on the flustered expression on your face. Too astonished to utter one word, you merely nod at his request with some difficulty while trying to regain control over your rapidly racing heart.

There is nothing but a single piece of fabric keeping him modest, yet you can still admire his impeccable complexion as well as every curve and contour of muscle mass defining the features of a perfect warrior. Suddenly feeling overheated once more, you hesitate for a few long seconds whether or not you should do the same — undressing and joining him in such intimate (to you) proximity — only for him to sigh dramatically once he realises what’s keeping you.

“Come here.” Slowly spinning around with an intrigued spark in his sapphire eyes. “There’s a cooler pool on the other side if this one’s too hot for you.”

Oh, he doesn’t get it…!

#writing.#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail fluff #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr fluff #phainon x reader #phainon x you #phainon fluff

859 notes · View notes

sh1-n0bu · 1 year ago

Text

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 ✿

characters: jing yuan, blade, dan heng, welt yang, yanqing, sampo, gepard, luocha x nb!reader

warnings: tooth rutting fluff, advised for u to read while sitting down or in private bc u might have a heart attack from how cute and chaotic this shit is, some angst might be sprinkled in just bc✨✨

notes: that moment when you have a super bad baby fever except the fever is towards cat rather than babies. genshin impact ver can be read here! part 2 with penacony men!

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

oh fuck

look at that floof

that absolute big soft floofball peacefully sleeping on top of your favorite black shirt. your shirt is ruined, massive amount of white fur stuck to the fabric and you’re late for work but at least you have a happily napping away cat

a siberian cat, me thinks. with that amount of fur and that large body, he’s gotta be a siberian cat

spoiled, smug peace of shit and he knows it. revels in that title even

dubbed as ‘the handsome cat’ by your friends, co-workers and neighbors alike, meow yuan is surprisingly and not so surprisingly incredibly popular amongst the ladies. whether it be because of his fur, his adorable meows, the red ribbon you tied around his neck as a makeshift collar or his way of charming the ladies with a gentle pawing to their hand and a smug “meowww”, you will never know

the biggest out of the cats. but is it his body that’s big or is it the rapunzel like long fur that he has. the world will sadly never know and neither will you

surprisingly chatty at times. but worryingly very eepy. an adult cat should sleep about 12-16 hours a day and yet you’re pretty sure meow yuan spends 25 hours of the day sleeping away under the sunlight

closest to little nyanqing. seems to think of the youngest kitten as his own as he’s seen grooming or simply looking out for the young kitten at times. also seems to be a bit closer to nyan heng and meowade but the latter tends to spend his time alone

an absolute smug spoiled prince and he owns to it. whether it be feigning hurt, crying out for your attention or downright plopping himself down on your keyboard, deleting your entire progress of work, the little shit knows how to be a headache

but it’s okay, you always forgive him because he allows you to smush your face into the fur of his belly when you’re stressed or squish his soft toe beans. meow yuan is let off the hook yet again…

occasionally, meow yuan reminds you of a lion. it maybe weird and completely out of the blue but with the way he grooms others, his fur, the absolute motor like loud purrs he emits or the sheer massive size and weight of him — yeah, you get the point

one time, you decided to spoil him by carrying him around in your arms like how you do with the other cats. the loud crack! noise and the fact that you couldn’t get up the next day should prove just how damn big he is

meow yuan was a worry wart the whole day. constantly meowing in your ears, purring softly, nuzzling your side. it almost seemed like he was trying to apologize for being this big. to which you easily let him off the hook of course. how could anyone ever say no to that big adorable yellow eyes?

art credit to cocoink🍁 on twt

a bit of a worrying case, meowade is

he doesn’t like socializing, the other cats nor does he get along with you either. the only ones he seem to at least tolerate were meow yuan and nyan heng alongside you

likes to spend his time all alone, cooped up inside some small confined space, above the cupboard or inside his own small room in the cat tree. also enjoys spending time in your room as well but only if the other cats aren’t there

flinches or freezes up whenever you touch him which is incredibly worrying and gut-wrenching. makes you hate however was his previous owner to have caused meowade to despise touches and affections

the first time you found him, bleeding and wet on the side of the road and tried to wrap your coat around him to take him to the vet, the little scraggly cat hissed and clawed and bit at you with great amount of hate despite literally bleeding out. thankfully, he seemed to understand you were no threat as he went limp in your coat, allowing you to get him to the vet

due to whatever his past experiences were, meowade hates being close to anyone. but at least he was slowly but surely opening up to the others and you

the first time the poor scraggly cat decided to bump his head to your hand, asking for pets, you cried tears of joy and relief. at least, you can offer him healing and comfort as you and the other cats stay there for him on his journey

the second biggest cat, bested by meow yuan himself. not as big as him but damn can this cat scare others. whether it be other cats, your friends who decided to visit or some random dog that you passed by as you take meowade out for a walk

seriously, the amount of times this cat wrestled against dogs bigger than himself gives you heart attacks. it’s a real wonder and a miracle you aren’t dead yet

british shorthair, me thinks. but the ones that grow to be a bit bigger than the others

has a bad habit of just… staring off into space, unblinking with those big round eyes at times. literally no thoughts in his brain. head empty, as he just… stares off into space

“oh, having another existential crisis again? mind if i join you today, meowade?”

“…”

“… meow”

and so, this weird ritual of the two of you sitting side by side, staring off into the distance, unblinking as the cup of coffee in your hand goes cold has become something special in you two’s bonding moment. oneself that meowade looks forward to each day

sometimes, he tends to chase after nyan heng around the house for whatever the reason. it leaves poor nyan heng shaking and hissing as the small black cat comes to you for help

not the chattiest of cats nor is he the most pickiest. quite docile despite his killer stare at times and you would even daresay, shy when it comes to affection

overall, a cute cat. the cute pathetic ones that you just can’t help but adore and love

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

another docile cat!! perhaps even the most docile one!!!

at first, you were worried when taking him in because holy shit, where is his tail?! only after taking him to the vets did you finally managed to breathe a sigh of relief because nyan heng was a black manx breed of cat

lean, on the smaller side, an amazing hunter and a dutiful bug hunter in the house, nyan heng is a cute black manx who has a pretty green/grey eyes

an absolute sweetheart, always hoping to please you or help you out around the house as he helps to keep the other cats in line. except for meowade. he always finds himself having a hissing match with the black british shorthair or getting teased by the eepy meow yuan

closest to nyelt, as you had found the two cats together when you decided to take him in. almost seem to see nyelt as some sort of a father figure with how the little black manx constantly goes to the older one for advice or simply some help in grooming

has a cute simple, thread like thin black tie with a few charms around himself as a makeshift collar. he seems to like it despite the thread being a little bit too thin for cats’ comfort

seriously, what’s up with your cats and their desire to wear makeshift collars? makes you really consider if they are cats…

that aside, nyen heng also tends to be more active during nighttime. not the type that would take down things, destroy objects or cause ruckus and cause you jump out of the warm comfort of your bed. no, he just simply quietly trudges around the house, searching if he had truly hunted down every bugs and insects in the house

especially that spider

nyen heng hates to see you so scared over that cursed spider. so he makes it his life mission to rid the house of insects, more specifically, spiders!!

and damn is he absolutely devoted to his job because ever since you cried to your friend over the phone about the spider that you saw in your room, you never saw another spider ever again!

not the most chattiest nor is the most affectionate. he’s a mix of both but only when in privacy of you two or when he’s feeling particularly lonely

don’t get him wrong, the other cats are an amazing company but he just tends to seek out your attention and affection more y’know? there’s just something soothing about being by your side

seems to have some history with meow yuan and meowade. whether that be good with how friendly meow yuan is with nyan heng. or bad, with how meowade seems to want to take their play fighting to a whole next level

surprisingly, doesn’t like sunlight that much

most of the cats would follow the sunlight and it’s warmth and spend some time outside or on the window sill. but you can find the little black minx just chilling in one of the rooms of the cat tree of beside you, observing the other cats

nyen heng is an absolute sweetheart. the quiet type of sweetheart

the type of sweetheart that follows you around, hoping to help you out or simply offer a comforting presence. it’s the least he can do for you

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

another sweetheart of a cat except nyelt makes himself and his presence known unlike nyan heng

possibly a havana brown breed with just how damn calm, peaceful, loving and loyal he is. especially with you. havana browns tend to attach themselves to only one person during their span of life, which sometimes can feel like nyelt is just a biiitttt clingy with you

was there with nyan heng when you took the two cats in and often times acts like a father figure to the cats of the house which is a huge help to your mental state. except for nyanqing. nyanqing only has one father figure and that’s meow yuan

but that was completely fine since nyelt still looks after the little energetic kitten. often times looking after the cream munchkin as he carries nyanqing around by his scruff

to which, nyan heng comes to you for affection and attention. if his father figure won’t give it, then you surely will!

likes to wear the black mini scarf like collar around his neck. often times seen curled up inside the mini scarf as he sleeps the day away like most cats do

can come of as quite chatty at times with how attentive and helpful nyelt is

oh your back feels stiff? he can sit on it and make biscuits (that cute moment when cats knead their paws?). meow yuan is out of option since he’s way too big and heavy and could potentially be the sole reason you break your back. literally

oh nyanqing is missing again? what do you mean he’s missing? he’s right there, hiding inside one of the rooms of the cat tree

nyan heng is being bullied by meowade again? you know nothing of the weight behind this powe—

yeah, you get it. kinda reminds you of a grandpa with how attentive he is and how he has a single streak of grey atop his head fur. which is absolutely adorable and one place that you adore smothering with kisses

nyelt doesn’t seem to mind the affection too as he simply sits there, purring away and basking in your affection. a very pliant cat

sometimes, something seems to weigh heavily on his and nyan heng’s minds with how they curl up together or look out the window, seemingly searching for something

at first when they did that, you thought some bird or a squirrel passed by the window. but if that was the case then every cats should by by the windowsill

yet only nyelt and nyan heng are

at first it worried you because what if they were having cat depression?! are you absolutely sure that you’re being a good cat owner, [name]?!

yeah, you had a lot of self doubt and depressive episodes due to the two cats

however you finally figured out the case when one day, one of your co-workers suggested a play date with her own cats. saying that sometimes, cats need to see new faces to experience some relief from their everyday tasks or ways of living

the date was agreed upon and your co-worker decided to bring over a few of her cats

the immediate second the pretty red furred maine coon, pink-ish scottish fold and the grey striped scottish fold stepped out of the cat bag, nyelt and nyan heng seem to brighten immediately as they fucking dash towards the three cats

turns out the five of them seemed to have been close before they got separated and the two male cats found their way in your home

at least your cats were happy yet again. which made you happy in turn too

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

awwwwwww

everyone's reactions when you first introduce them to nyanqing. and honestly, you can't blame them because look at that cute little cream munchkin pitter pattering his way over here!!!

as stated above, a cute little cream colored munchkin

super adorable

tiny

a tiny baby

"hang on, i'm gonna have an abnormal increase in my sugar intake simply because nyanqing is just too damn adorable to not to do that" - you on a daily basis while calling your best friend and honestly? your bestie's starting to get a bit sick of your constant fawning over your cats

that is until you bestie decides to come over for a visit to drop off some meds for you (during the infamous 'trying to lift meow yuan and almost breaking your spinal cord' day), your bestie dropped down to the floor, unresponsive the moment you called over nyanqing to introduce him to your bestie

yeah... since then the two of you constantly fawn over the little munchkin while trying not to die of a cuteness overload

but it's completely fine and understandable even as you two get the nth heart attack this day simply because nyanqing was... well, nyanqing himself!

an adorable little pliant baby who loves nothing more than sleeping, playing around with meow yuan, you and sprinkles of mischief sometimes

is the closest to meow yuan and can be found with the large siberian cat whenever you can't find him. often times, you would have to move meow yuan over to check each and every nook and cranny around the large siberian cat just so you can get a glimpse of the small munchkin and let out a sigh of relief

at times, the eepy meow yuan tends to curl up with the tiny nyanqing buttttt due to how much of a heavy sleeper the larger cat is, nyanqing almost gets crushed under the much larger cat

yet he somehow is still alive and well and completely okay???? like what????????

still doesn't relieve your heart no matter how many times you find the tiny munchkin under the large siberian cat

is a little bit mischievous at times with how he lovingly bothers nyan heng. trailing after the black minx all the while meowing his ears off about something. the same can be applied to nyelt as well but nyelt tends to patiently converse with the small munchkin unlike nyan heng who wishes to avoid him at most times, preferring his lone and private time

seem to have some sort of an ongoing hidden agenda against meowade and luonya. the former black can cat be found bullying the small munchkin until either the other cats step in or you. as for the latter? no one knows. somehow, nyanqing always ends up getting into a defensive position whenever luonya comes into his field of vision

one time you even found nyanqing hisses at meowade with meow yuan behind the tiny kitten's back. you had to put the three of them into time out and give meowade a scolding

what about scolding nyanqing you say? well

“this is the last time i’ll let you off the hook, nyan-nyan. if i find you stirring up trouble again”

yeah… when are you ever going to stop letting your cats off of the hook [name]?

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

…

“you sure this is a cat and not a fox or a vixen undercover?”

“yes, it is indeed a cat and not a fox or a vixen undercover. i’m guessing it’s a somali cat though it could be mixed breed with another different cat breed as well”

“you sure…?”

“please get out, and allow the others to show their pets”

yeah… the local vet is familiar with you and your many different cats. not to mention the amount of times you asked if meowpo was truly a cat and not a fox undercover because damn, is this cat fucking mischievous

an absolute fucking menace and i cannot stress this enough, god

the type of cat who would keep a straight eye contact with you as his soft squishy paw slowly pushes a cup full of your coffee towards the edge of the surface all the while keeping the :3 face

oh you thought meow yuan was bad and mischievous? you immediately took back your words the second you adopted meowpo

that’s how damn bad this little cat is

you know those moments that you have like,,, a cute aggression? but instead of smothering the cat with kisses and hugs and cuddles, you end up lovingly bullying the cat? yeah. that’s your eternal cycle with meowpo

“you stupid—“ kiss “—fucking” kiss “—cat!” kiss “when the fuck—“ kiss “—and where the fuck” kiss “—did you came from” kiss “—to make me suffer, huh?”

a never ending cycle and meowpo fucking revels in the sheer amount of times he can make you have lovingly bullying cute aggression moments

seems to have some sort of a rivalry with nyepard and surprisingly meow yuan

nyepard was completely understood and truthfully, you saw it coming. nyepard is a rule follower and an enforcer through and through meanwhile meowpo is a rule breaker

so imagine your surprise when you come back home one day to see meow yuan glaring at meowpo from his windowsill

“meow yuan, what’s gotten into you? why are you bullying meowpo?”

“mrreow!” oh meow yuan sounded a bit angry. which only served to double your shock since meow yuan is a very gentle cat despite his large size. gentle, affectionate, chatty, friendly and a bit mischievous at times but never hostile or mean

“mrreeeooww!” meowpo seems to complain as he makes his way over to hide behind your leg. he seems to be shaking or even afraid of the larger cat

to which, you immediately coddled and soothed meowpo over and scolded meow yuan afterwards. all the while meowpo gives meow yuan a knowing smug look

yeaaahhh… these idiots are fighting for your attention and affection

if meowpo isn’t somewhere inside the house, creating chaos and getting scolded by the other cats then you can definitely find him by asking a help from nyepard. nyeppie would dutifully carry out his duties and rat meowpo out in record time

but he isn’t always so mean or mischievous. the times where you fall sick and is having a hard time trying to breathe through your nostrils, meowpo is the one who takes care of the other cats’ bowls of food and water

it was a way of him hoping to help you out the tiniest bit as you lay bedridden

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

nyepard, the most… dog-like cat you would ever meet. but also a cheetah-like as well????

it’s hard to explain since nyeppie has spotted fur and the black smokey eye that cheetahs have and not to mention his large yet lean physique as well

the second largest. whereas meowade is also the second biggest due to his length, neppie is the second biggest due to being a bit on the… buffer? side

seriously, you were worried for a few days when nyepard kept growing and growing, showing absolutely no sign of stopping his growth spurt

thankfully, he isn’t as big as meow yuan

you don’t wanna live with the embarrassment of getting dragged down the street by another big ass cat chasing after a random pretty leaf they saw. nope. you can’t deal with the embarrassment and shame

and yes, you did dragged down the street when taking meow yuan out on a walk before but that is a story and second hand embarrassment for another time

another sweetheart despite his size

very doting, gentle, very shy when it comes to affections but still asks for them anyways because it’s you

the first time you took nyepard for his vet vaccinations, the veterinarian looked at you dead in the eyes as if saying “bestie, what the fuck?”

of course you would get weird stares whenever you take the big cat out for a walk. he’s as big as a doberman dog and the dotted furs of his doesn’t exactly help to direct attention away from yourself

but the sheer amount of power you feel when walking down the street with both meow yuan and nyepard by your two sides is fucking addicting

one cat that closely resembles a lion and another that looks like a cheetah. at least you sleep peacefully at night knowing that you have two scary cats privilege

scary dog privilege? [name] only knows and experiences scary cats privilege. at times it's adorable but also threatening as well because your bestie and some close co-workers know just how devoted and loyal your cats are towards you

nyeppie is the most loyal of them all. or at least, one who is willing to show it at each minute of the day with how dutifully he chases after insects with nyan heng, scolds meowpo or just is there to be your emotional support

by being your emotional support, nyeppie meant being there sitting beside your computer as you diligently types away at a work report and not to be your cuddle victim!!!! no, no no no, no no, you're not squishing his paws as you take him away in your arms to cuddle on the bed!! you always end up falling asleep!!!! what do you mean by it's completely fine that you have saved up the progress and the deadline isn't close yet?! the deadline is before midnight!!!

sigh...

if only cats could sigh heavily and smack his face with his palm as he watches you scamper about, trying to wake yourself up as you realize that you did ended up napping the day away with nyeppie in your arms

well, at least you managed to send the report in at time. by 'at time' you and him both meant at least 2 minutes before the deadline closed up

nyepard guesses you can cuddle with him this time since you managed to finish the report within a record time of 47 minutes

art credit to mm_mako22 on danbooru!

luonya is probably the most weirdest cat you ever had the pleasure of adopting. and that was saying something because you're pretty sure you live with a long lost lion and a cheetah and a fox cats!!!!

and he's just a simple, silly, lovely cream colored turkish angora!!!!!

ah, whatever. you guess its just life's way of dealing you karma by making you live with a bit quirky 8 cats

jokes and a lot of conspiracy theories pushed aside for now, time to focus on the present AKA 'the pretty cat'

oh yes, while meow yuan was getting dubbed as 'the handsome cat' by almost everyone who meets him, luonya was rightfully dubbed as 'the pretty cat'

at this point, you're damn sure that your friends and co-workers come around only to coo over your cats and to spoil them rather than spending time with you... understandable, because you too would do the same without a single ounce of shame and you absolutely mean every damn word

one time, just for shits and giggles and a bunch of pictures to take of your latest cat, you signed him up for a cat beauty pageant

it was only for shits and giggles and a reason to snap pictures of luonya in a pretty cat costumes and stuff, you swear!! so imagine your surprise and how far down your jaw went slack when the host announced your cat, luonya as the cat beauty pageant winner!!!

yeah...

it was a chaotic thing to happen truly and the small glares and backhanded compliments the other cat parents were giving you was making you break out in cold sweat. at least, you have your pretty cat with you to soothe yourself a bit

and a nice whopping 300K dollars as the victor money!!!! damn, you're rich as shit now

not for too long since that money is gonna fly away in the wind due to the fact that you adopted a literal 7 cats and a kitten

worth it, you cry internally as you pay for the 50 kilograms of cat food all the while luonya gently meows at you as in a way of saying "hurry up, dear. we still have to pick up the wet food and the snacks too"

hhhh yeah

this cream colored turkish angora of yours is absolutely drop dead gorgeous yet at the same time he also has a very large secretive look on his face. there's just something about the way that luonya just acts, always sitting atop a high place in the house, as he just stares into the souls of everyone within the room

weirdly smells like either flowers or of medicine and pills and there's absolutely no in between. it's either giving lilies or pills but either way, your cat is a girlboss and he seems to know it as well

not entirely affectionate like meow yuan or meowpo but he is also not too talkative either. a bit of something in between along the lines

is affectionate and talkative at times but prefer it if you would be asleep or when its just you two when he finally decides to curl up on your lap

overall, luonya is a very gentle yet also a very suspicious cat but is oki, he girlboss and he knows what he wants and needs with how he sometimes fakes choking noises to make you get up in light speed

4K notes · View notes

unriding · 7 days ago

Text

HOW THEY COMFORT YOU AFTER A NIGHTMARE. moze, mydei, phainon. sfw. fluff + comfort. written with f!reader! in which the hsr men reassure you that you’re safe with them after a scary dream.

— MOZE.

The room you share with Moze feels foreign as soon as you jolt awake with a sharp gasp. Nothing at all like how it usually is.

It’s Cold. Empty. Much too spacious. And…. where’s Moze?

The nightmare you’ve only barely managed to escape seconds ago comes creeping back to haunt you as quickly as it had left — fragments of fear and loneliness rushing in and swirling about in your head, shooting up your spine as you shakily cling onto your blanket. “M..Moze…?”

There’s nothing, save for the sound of wind beating against the window. Violently so, you quickly realize, with each slam of the branches against the glass making you sink further and further back into the corner of your bed. “…Are you here..? Moze—”

Every part of you hopes that he is. Perhaps he’s just lurking somewhere within the shadows as he normally does. Still beside you nevertheless. Always within earshot and always making sure you were safe.

Any shadow could be him — you know this well, but the shadows don’t usually look so cold. They don’t usually stare back at you with such a haunting air around them, nor do they ever feel this empty.

A part of you wants nothing but to bury yourself beneath your blankets — slam your eyes shut and hope that you’re still dreaming.

Any scenario in which you don’t wake up alone in the dead of night, and any scenario in which Moze hadn’t packed up his things and left without a word.

Any scenario where he’s still here.

But you don’t. Still too fearful to move even a single muscle, so you settle for clinging tightly onto your blankets instead, eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement.

Any sign of Moze.

It’s only a second later when the door creaks. Quietly. Though your eyes seem to finally find the shred of courage needed to slam shut at this, head ducking beneath the blanket with a muffled whimper to seek refuge from what you think is doom.

Only, it never comes.

“You’re awake.” The mattress dips from where he sits down beside you, and then you feel a second blanket cover the lower half of your body soon after. “Did I wake you?”

It’s almost silly how quickly the fear begins to dissipate — his presence enough to convince you to wiggle your way out of your blanket, only enough to peer up at him through tearful eyes. “Moze….?”

The look on his face changes ever so slightly as soon as he hears you, even more as soon as he sees you. “I thought .. you left. Like, left me. In my dream, I think — but when I woke up —”

“I didn’t leave.”

The three simple words that loosen the grip on your chest like clockwork. He pulls you into a tight hug before you manage to choke out another word, strong arms keeping you flush against his chest to let you soak up his warmth, the way you always like to do.

He feels you trembling against him, hears the way you sniffle into his shirt, and yet — you latch onto him without another moment of hesitation. “You were shaking in your sleep.”

Moze doesn’t let go, even when he stretches to reach behind you, bunching the second blanket he had left to grab around your frame before his arms wrap back around you. “I thought you might get sick, otherwise.”

You nuzzle deeper into the safety of his embrace. “You.. you went to get blankets in the middle of the night? Because I was cold..?”

“Yes.”

— MYDEI.

Mydei notices the way you stir in your sleep long before you even have the chance to jerk awake, let alone keep yourself up for nearly long enough to work up the courage needed to nudge at his shoulder seeking some comfort.

It catches his eye within an instant — gaze flickering to the way your eyebrows furrow first, then how your body starts to curl up on itself hoping to hide from something. You’re having a nightmare.

It’s not an odd thing for Mydei to stay awake longer than you. He’s grown fond — Phainon’s words, to be exact — of the way you nuzzle yourself closer to him in your sleep. Just a small habit of yours. To press your cheek into the firm muscle of his arm, your own limbs tangled over his in an effort to keep him close to you.

You insist that it helps you sleep better, and that fact is obvious enough. You sleep like a log as soon as you’re latched onto him as so, and whenever he decides to wrap an arm around your waist to pull you even closer to him — big hand mindlessly rubbing your back up and down and feeling the way your frame melts underneath his touch — your lips curl into a small smile, even in your sleep.

It’s why seeing you in such discomfort bothers him. The way fresh tears start to collect along your lashes, face frowning and body tense and trembling — all things he absolutely never wants to see, especially when you’re safe beside him.

Mydei puts down his drink first. Almost instinctively, not taking his eyes off of you for even a moment before he’s letting out a huff, easily pulling you to rest fully on top of him (another thing that he remembers you enjoying, as you’ve mentioned once that it’s fun to hug him like a koala while sitting in his lap).

Only, you don’t hug him this time, and the frown stays on your face.

He frowns now, too.

“Hey.” His arms wrap around you even tighter now, one moving to cradle the back of your head and the other around your shoulders, as if keeping you safely tucked away from whatever threatens your comfort. “It’s only a nightmare.”

You make a noise in response, one akin to a whine or a grumble before your fingers start to dig into the muscle of his shoulder, stirring and fidgeting in your sleep — even more so than before. His mind hesitates for only a moment, conflicted as to whether he should abruptly wake you or continue to hold you in hopes that whatever is scaring you eventually leaves.

He settles for both.

“Nothing’s here,” he continues, pulling you closer to him, this time moving to press a kiss against your forehead. Another, after. One against your temple. Then another against your forehead, for extra measure.

This time, your expression softens, hands relaxing to lightly rest on his body. It’s working.

“See that?” His voice comes out softer, and perhaps if you were awake, you’d point this out.

But you’re not.

So he settles on holding you close like this instead, keeping you warm and close to his heart. “You’re safe.”

— PHAINON.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes shoot open to be faced with Phainon, hands on each side of your head as he hovers over you, concern and what you think might be a hint of fear etched deep into his features. “You’re okay. It was only a dream.”

“Ph-” you call out to him, or at least you try, but the words get caught in your throat, as if something wants to keep you away from him. Your eyes widen. “..on..?”

You hadn’t been expecting him to visit you so soon. His presence almost catches you off guard, more so than the nightmare that had scared you awake, maybe. (Though, perhaps he had intentionally avoided telling you, since he’s always had a thing or two to say about you skipping rest from excitement to see him.)

It wasn’t uncommon for you to have nightmares like these. Nights where you abruptly jerk awake in a cold sweat, barely mustering the courage to wrap yourself in a blanket before seeking out Phainon.

The first person you’ve always sought out, and the only person whose hold can make you feel as safe as you do. Such as now.

“Come closer,” his brows furrow deeper when your lips continue to wobble, now opting to fully climb onto your bed to lay beside you, immediately pulling you towards him. “You were having a nightmare.”

“Sorry..” you grasp at his shirt, almost instinctively. “I know you’re busy — it’s okay. I was just a little scared—”

He doesn’t move away, only letting out a soft sigh of relief at the realization that you’re at least not physically hurt before he’s holding you even tighter against himself, as if shielding you from your thoughts with his own body. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything harm you.”

“Don’t worry.”

It might just be magic, you think, the way one simple embrace from Phainon can put an end to your fears so quickly. It was often that you’ve told him this — a shy tug on his sleeve and a reminder of just how much you cherish him, to which he only ruffles your hair with a soft smile — followed by another promise that he’ll keep you safe.

Always.

“And,” he shifts his position on your bed, the movement drawing you out of your thoughts when his chin comes to lightly rest atop your head, “I’ve told you there’s no need for apologies, haven’t I?”

“Oops,” you weakly mumble against his chest. “It slipped again.. sor—”

“Ah. And almost again, huh? That’s fine. Let’s focus on getting you back to sleep again for now,” he plants a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, “Close your eyes.”

#— ⚘( ၴႅၴ writing.#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #phainon x reader #mydei x reader #moze x reader #mydei fluff #phainon fluff #moze fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #mydei x you #phainon x you #honkai star rail x you

680 notes · View notes

pearlywritings · 2 years ago

Text

In father’s embrace

synopsis: HSR men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.

pairings: Blade, Gepard, Loucha, Sampo, Jing Yuan x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, implied initial mortal x immortal in Blade’s

word count: 5.2k words

a/n: Luofu Xianzhou timeline is hell, so Blade’s one is quite vague. Here’s the Genshin version!

Blade

Blade tends to say that he has no connection to his past, but that is not true and very few (mostly Kafka) know he is lying. Even with his life and death fucked up he can't simply let go of someone his heart has been always full with, of someone who he promised himself to by the altar, even if under another name, of someone, who gifted him the joy of both his previous and current life - your daughter.

The blade - a cold weapon with no feelings - should not experience being lucky, but that’s what he was, when you clutched him in your arms the first time after his return from the dead and sobbed in his chest, telling him how much you missed him, how much his little angel missed him.

Back then he should've left without a trace, maybe even coming to you in the first place was a mistake, but he just couldn't. And his resolve crumbled completely when a white-haired toddler in your arms gazed at him with the same soft eyes as yours and reached out to his face, hesitantly asking "dada?".

As much as Blade is capable - he loves you and your daughter. He is quite absent due to his involvement with the Stellaron Hunters, but you understand how important that magenta-haired woman's ability is when it comes to restraining the mara in his body. After all that's the reason why he can visit without fear of hurting you or his little girl.

Some other sacrifices had to be made - one of them was moving from the Lofu Xianzhou, but that was alright and your daughter loved her new environment. Besides, dada has been visiting more often ever since you moved! And no one really bothered or chased after you (after all, you are still registered as his wife and higher ups of Lofu know), which, you assumed, was somehow connected with a young girl that once came with Blade.

Kafka once brought up a proposition of moving you two to the Stellaron Hunters' base for Blade's easier access, but he declined. At least his loved ones should have a peaceful everyday life.

With a tired sigh the black-haired man lowers himself on a sofa in the living room of the house you two purchased to start a seemingly new life. The red-hot iron in his eyes disappears behind the heavy eyelids and for a moment Blade allows himself to relax. The little wonder, that is his daughter, ran to your bedroom to fetch some hair accessories, after you encouraged your husband to let her style his long locks.

He doesn’t move when you sit next to him, hip to hip and heart to heart. He welcomes your sneaking fingers, curling his, creating a secure lock of hands. The weight of your head resting on his shoulder is grounding and he can’t help but press his cheek against it.

It’s soothingly silent.

It almost reminds him of the past.

“For how long will you be staying this time?

Even your question, spoken in a tender, understanding voice, is familiar. You used to ask him the same thing in-between his Cloud Quintet-related missions.

These days it’s difficult to sneak and see you during breaks though.

“Fifteen days,” his breath is even, and eyes are still shut, but he senses a smile that tugs on the corners of your lips.

“That’s a lot. She will be so happy,” and he knows that you are as well.

The rapid stomping of little feet bursts into your peaceful serenity, and you simultaneously glance at the doorway. Low and behold - the soon-to-be hair stylist is proudly running into the room, tightly clutching your jewelry box with various hair pins inside.

“Dad, I practiced! Mom says I’ve been making huuuuuuge progress!”

A tiny smile touches his pale lips - it’s such a miracle that a monster like him is blessed to have the most adorable child in the whole universe. With her and you by his side, this life gets more and more bearable.

“If mom says you’ve been, then it must be the truth,” he nods, letting go of your hand - but not before giving it a little affectionate stroke with his thumb, - sliding down and onto the floor, turning his back to the girl.

Giggling excitedly, she gives you the box, which you quickly unlock, and starts looking through the many intricate pieces of jewelry (many are your beloved’s presents), until finding the perfect one.

Having his hair being touched is weird. He was aware that the white luscious locks used to draw attention, but only you were honored to run your fingers through them, and only his baby was allowed to tug on them, making her father wince. Now it’s different - she is oh so careful, brushing, collecting stray locks and braiding, not once causing him pain.

Blade sighs again, but looks at you from the corner of his eye, catching you snickering in your palm upon gazing at something that your daughter is turning his hair into. Well, that’s concerning.

But at this very moment he can’t bring himself to care. If he gets fifteen whole days before his next mission, he is going to savor this time with his family - no matter how disastrous he’s going to look by the end of it.

Gepard

A family man. So no one was surprised when in the end the leader of the Silvermane Guards ended up with three kids - two sons and a daughter. Partly it was dictated by the rules of nobles and his family among them, but ultimately it was your mutual sincere decision.

It’s obvious he is not there for many of his kids’ first times, as sometimes his duties prevail and even the Supreme Guardian cannot help it, but he really-really tries to be there as much as possible. He appreciates the videos you send him, has every single one stored in his phone’s memory and sometimes, when there is no communication, in his spare moment he replays them to remind himself that soon he’ll return home and see his kids and you.

Only one time he really fucked up because of work - during your first pregnancy you both underestimated the soon arrival of your due date and he left on a mission with his troops, reassured that he’ll be back before the day you go into labor. The snowstorm was severe and the connection was cut, so the message Serval sent him when your water broke was not delivered. His soldiers would bring to their graves the image of a deathly pale Gepard, when many hours later he checked his phone back at the base and nearly broke the screen, trying to type his sister’s number.

After that he started taking paternity leave seriously.

You do not keep in touch with his parents a lot - there were instances where they disapproved of you, but all of his siblings are always welcomed in your house and to see their nephews and niece, because they supported your relationship from the moment they met you in flesh.

Serval is an enormous help when it comes to babysitting. It’s like her part-time job honestly - you even offered to pay her, but she declined, suggesting offering her a helping hand whenever she’d need instead. Oh, and to be the first one out of all the Landau siblings (after her brother, of course) to know about the latest updates on your kids.

The kids that are adorable. All three won the ‘blue eyes’ lottery, which, given the previous generations of Landau, is not a big surprise; both boys look like Gepard, while the girl took more after you in appearance. The man really doesn’t want to play favorites, but sometimes he is just too weak for his little princess, who looks just like her mom. She is the youngest too with a pretty big age gap between her and her brothers, who were born a year apart, so there is literally no jealousy, because your sons took their father’s example and became her protectors.

Even from a 'big bad dragon' that is their aunt…

When you step inside your house and hear the kids still fussing somewhere in the rooms, involuntarily your gaze falls to the old grandfather’s clock in the foye. Almost midnight. All three should be long asleep with Serval sending you a notification of her success. Which you didn’t receive and for that reason had to cut your date short and hurry back home.

Your husband looks as concerned as you are, locking the door and straining his ears to determine what’s going on. With both your coats abandoned, you carefully step further into the house, making your way to the line of light coming from under one of the doors.

Two jaws almost kiss the floor when you see Serval lying on the floor tied and gagged with a scarf. Alone. For a moment you fear the worst.

Rushing inside, you let Gepard search the other rooms for intruders. Helping your sister-in-law to sit is no problem, but the knot behind her head is awfully tightened. In the end you manage to yank it down to free her mouth, quickly switching to the rope constricting her hands.

“Y/n, oh my god,” she gasps, finally able to speak. “Who taught your sons to tie knots like this!? I didn’t know a sixteen- and fifteen-year olds can be so strong-”

“Come again?” Stunned, you stop untying her wrists, looking at the woman with widened eyes. Your boys did what?

“My precious nephews - whom I really do not want to strangle - took the game of knights too seriously, and when - maybe a half an hour ago? - I decided to play the dragon who was stealing the princess - my niece of three years, - they attacked and tied me!”

“Huh…” is all you can say, feeling relief wash over you. At least there are no burglars or kidnappers and your kids are safe.

When, listening Serval’s huffs of complaints, you move to untie her legs, the heavy steps of your husband are heard in the hallway, accompanied by the boys whining and begging their dad not to come to the living room, because the dragon would eat their sister.

His tall figure appears in the doorway, with your daughter in his arms, looking very sleepy, and two almost carbon copies of their dad pulling at his jacket to give them their sister back.

“Serval, what in blazes have you told them?” The judging tone and the squint of his blue eyes are directed at his elder sibling.

“It was just a game, Geppie! A silly game they turned into reality.”

“Aunt said she’d eat her,” your oldest pouts, eyeing her cautiously. “And she told us stories about the cannibals the other night-”

“Serval, you what?”

“Hey, they asked me to! Oh, thanks, Y/n,” she shrugs the loosened rope off of her. “Where did you even get this?”

“Aunt Lynx gave us,” the second son chirps, hugging Gepard’s side. “She showed us how to do knots.”

“This little-”

Suddenly you feel a headache coming. With big family come big challenges, but something of this caliber hasn’t happened in a while. It makes you smile though - you almost forgot what it was like - to raise two boys. Seems like your girl brings the borderline naughtiest out of them.

Loucha

To begin with it's worth mentioning that your and Loucha's marriage started as an unpredictable necessity. You both needed to enter the world that allowed only married foreigners' access. So, quickly figuring that your goal matches, you got married on a neighboring planet, spent a month there to make the marriage more believable in the sense of its duration and learning more about each other. Yeah, all of that just to fulfill your respectful jobs. You invented and rehearsed all the possible answers to the questions, perfected your affectionate act and were actually feeling quite comfortable around each other.

It was almost funny, when on the 'how many kids do you plan to have?' Loucha confidently answered 'two', and a couple of years later your first son was born, and then, after 7 more years, another one was too.

Admittedly, the oldest one was kind of unplanned, but at that point you traveled so much together, shared so many memories, even ended up caring for each other on a lover-like level, that you decided to give it a shot, just like you did with the continuation of your marriage.

And Loucha couldn't be more pleased. Surprisingly, he found the peace of those first years he spent settled down to raise your boy delightful. And there was something exciting about having a little wonder with a perfect mix of both of your features in your arms, as your husband's hand is resting on the small of your back, leading you through the crowds of the new planet's lively market, as the child's eyes shine with marvel, taking in his surroundings.

When Loucha suggested having another one it simply felt right.

Your sons are so lucky in the sense of seeing the universe, because their father is a traveling merchant. Sure, he doesn't always take you and your two boys with him, but whenever his deal allows him enough freedom and your kids are doing great in school and can be taken on a little vacation - you three are going with him.

Usually he gets to take care of the youngest one, since only Loucha's vast knowledge can satisfy his curiosity, while the oldest one calmly walks hand in hand with you, content with listening to their conversation and pointing out to you the things he already knows himself, receiving a soft praise from you and an approving nod from his father.

Back home the roles reverse - the oldest is spending most of his time with Loucha to learn all about medicine and healing techniques, while the youngest is more interested in sharing your hobbies.

The two hardly ever quarrel as siblings tend to do, and it must be because of the overall serene atmosphere of your family dynamic, your soft nature and your husband's tranquil behavior.

More than a decade ago Loucha wouldn't have imagined himself with a wife and kids. Nowadays, however, he doesn't like the thought of not having the three of you by his side.

It is a quiet afternoon. A little house you rented for a little vacation has a nice yard - perfect for the kids to have fun outside. You occasionally glance at them from the window of the kitchen to make sure everything is fine, while your hands never stop moving - washing, cutting, stirring.

At some point you are so caught in the moment of tranquility, that you do not hear your husband walking in, until he softly hums to alert you of his presence, and puts his palms on your waist.

“Smells delicious,” you smile, feeling his chin on your shoulder, and grab a piece of a tangerine you are meaning to use for dessert, offering it to him.

“Mhm, I am trying to cook what we had yesterday at that restaurant.”

Ah, right, the restaurant the kids enjoyed. He remembers how you sneaked to the kitchen and came back with a little less credits, but with new recipes and an excited smile on your face.

“Hopefully my rendition will be to our boys’ liking. And don’t think I forgot about you - those Loufu Xianzhou-style noodles are already on their way!”

“So thoughtful of you, darling,” his silky voice caresses your ear and not a second later a kiss is pressed to your cheek. “Do you need any help?”

“Weren’t you busy?” You decide to clarify, clearly recounting how he locked himself in one of the rooms earlier that day to test something. To your question Loucha shakes his head.

“All done already. And I missed you and the kids.”

“Then go and play with them,” you urge, turning to face him to offer a sweet smile. “I’ll handle it here, but the boys could use some quality time with their father.”

“You say that as if they didn’t drag us all around the city yesterday and then climb into our bed and refuse to leave.”

“I mean, it’s the first time in two months they properly see you. That last deal of yours was exceptionally time-consuming.”

“You kept me updated on them so well and those video calls we had… it didn’t even feel like I ever left.”

You only huff and return your gaze to the stove, yet leaning into his chest a little. For a minute it’s quiet, and the man is taking his time before parting from you. That is until he takes a deep inhale and nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“What for, handsome?” There is that teasing lilt in your voice he came to love. Over the course of your lives together he discovered many things to love you for, and if not for that desperate decision to get married - he thinks he’d hardly ever feel the same about his life.

“For everything.”

He leaves your side with a kiss on your shoulder and the next time you glance out of the window again - he is already there, hoisting his youngest in one arm and chasing after the oldest one with his hair swaying in the gentle wind. And your heart is at peace.

Sampo

In all his life Sampo has managed to never impregnate a single woman and he considers that a success. For all the crap people speak about him Sampo is not an idiot, even though he acts like a fool at times. He is extremely self-aware and bringing a child to this world is probably the last thing on his list.

But no one said anything about someone else’s child, right?

Your and Sampo’s relationship is… strange, not going to lie. One evening you happened to help a scared woman to escape from some drunkards (whom you lately found out were the Silvermane Guards, sober and on duty), only for the long wig to slip and the heavy coat to slide down, revealing shortly cut but nicely styled hair and obviously male broad shoulders. The only thing the man managed to get out was a sheepish “hehe”.

And boy did that “hehe” change your life.

That day Sampo Koski got off the hook, since you didn’t comment anyhow and just let him go, which, given you were an overworlder, he found intriguing. So he dug a little bit, out of pure curiosity. Besides, this man didn't like staying in debt to someone and he needed information to see how he could pay you back.

That’s when he found out you were a single mother. An opera singer, but divorced and with full custody over a six-year old daughter.

And honestly, he didn’t give it much thought at first. He simply arranged a nice bouquet of red roses for you, paid Natasha a little for a handmade plushie and left it all at the door steps with a ‘thank you’ note.

Until a couple of weeks ago, disguised again, he didn’t stumble into a group of kids obviously bullying a little girl, mocking her for not having a father, and throwing something among themselves that she tried to catch. And he recognized the toy. And one glance was enough to see how much she looked like the woman he met only once. And against his better judgment Sampo walked to the children, easily snatching the toy and effectively scaring everyone off. Only with that little girl still being there, eyes full of unshed tears and fingers digging in the skirt of her pretty dress.

That tiny ‘thank you’ when he handed the plushie back to her and she hugged it tightly to her chest made the conman’s heart clench, and for the second time that day he sent his plans to hell, keeping her company near the house you lived in until you arrived from work.

That day he learned many things - how much your daughter loved the toy and what a sweet little thing she was, how tired a person can look and how much a throat can hurt from the whole day of singing during rehearsals, how nice a home-made dinner can be once you are invited, but most importantly - how even such a damned man like him can be gazed upon with gratitude and not from one, but two people.

From that day many other instances happened, but in the end he just stuck around. It was strange, it was new, but in a sense it was comforting, especially when you would come home - on Friday, for example, - and he’d be there, entertaining your daughter and then greeting you with a smile and a silly wave of his hand.

You don’t have a husband, and your daughter doesn’t have a father - but with his presence Sampo Koski manages to fill those voids even if a little bit.

Aeons you love days off. A morning to finally sleep in and do not run around like crazy in attempts to get yourself and your kid ready. Even breakfast wasn’t on you today, because the ‘silly man’ stayed the night and told you to get your sleep, assuring you with that confident puff of his chest that the Sampo Koski would offer you his best service, which effectively made you giggle.

Tonight he even cuddled with you, letting you bury your face in his neck and be a little vulnerable in the arms of a man with whom you had the most peculiar relationship ever. But after such equally peculiar moments you really start thinking of suggesting moving from the couch in the living room to your bedroom permanently. It’s been months already, who would’ve thought.

Barefoot and not even glancing at the robe on the chair near the window you leave the room, rubbing at your eyes and brushing your hair away from your face. You are craving the cup of your morning drink, and so you let your legs carry you to the kitchen at first. However two voices coming from your wardrobe room instantly peak your interest and make you halt in your walking. What on earth could your daughter and your clown of a man be doing there?

And soon enough you find it out.

“Sit still, please!” The girl begs with an eye shadow palette in one tiny hand and a huge brush in the other. “It’ll smudge if you keep turning to the mirror!”

“Just can’t wait to see how beautiful I am, princess, ‘s all~”

There, on the floor among the rows of your clothes and shelves with beauty products and accessories, none other than Sampo is sitting, willingly offering his face to your daughter’s practice of applying makeup. And gods he looks absolutely hilarious.

But that’s not what exactly concerns you.

“Is that my dress?” You point at the red shimmery thing snuggly sitting on the man in front of you and that’s when the two notice you.

“Yes, mommy!”

“Say I pulled it off, right?” With a smirk the green-eyed menace winks at you and it looks even worse with poorly done lashes. You have to stifle your laughter. “Though I must admit, we had to keep it unzipped - my chest appeared to be bigger than yours-”

And that’s when you regret not bringing slippers with you - one flying in his head would be of great help.

“Sometimes I really hate you.”

“Nuh, sweet thing, you love me!”

“Well,” you step closer, grabbing a tissue to try and fix at least the overly bright blush on his cheeks, “maybe. Maybe I actually do.”

Suddenly Sampo is tongue-tied and silent, trying very hard to fight off the stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. But with thoroughly smeared red lipstick on his mouth it looks so damn comical.

“Mom, do you think pa looks pretty?” Your daughter hopefully asks, putting aside her tools, and that little two-letter word doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. You feel a real blush burning under your deft fingers.

“Yes, sweety, Pa-mpo looks very pretty,” his head whips in your direction like you’ve just told him to go and surrender to the Belobog’s esteemed order keepers.

“...Pa-mpo?”

“Would you prefer Da-mpo instead?” Cocking your head in question, you smirk at him, relishing in the pout he is wearing at the moment. “Or maybe Sam-pa?”

“No, thank you very much,” he huffs. “Little princess called me ‘pa’, so be nice and respect it.”

And now it is you who is surprised. You haven’t really discussed with Sampo who he was to your daughter, and who she was to him - but if he is making this step of acknowledging the matter, then who are you to spoil it? Who knows, maybe things will work out quite pleasantly in the end.

“Alright, pa, I will respect that.”

“Hey! For you I am your precious popo baby, a koskiss to your lips, the love of your-”

“Don’t even dream of it.”

Jing Yuan

Yanqing would be enough of an answer to the kid question, but it is not. Sure, his young disciple is practically a son to the General, but it doesn't mean the man doesn't want his own children.

He does and he has. On multiple occasions Jing Yuan's subordinates walked in on him with a small figure sitting in his lap or perched on his strong arm, observing what the dad's been up to with his plans and documents. You scolded your husband for this many times, but the bastard only smiles and keeps stealing his daughter to work to keep him company. Or she sneaks on her own - that caused you many almost heart attacks when she was no older than a couple of decades.

For Jing Yuan it’s all good though - he gets to spend time with his baby and have you inevitably join him in search for your adventurous child.

The General has a separate folder for all the pictures of his daughter on his phone - every single one he takes and every single one you send him when he couldn’t bring his girl to some of his meetings (yet he really tried, until you put your foot down and saved many of his subordinates from the prolonging of said meetings). Even the background, hidden from prying eyes behind the passcode of your and her birthdays, is his little one, cradled in your arms, as the two of you are watching kites flying in the sky.

Yanqing at first was set on treating her with the same respect he does his mentor and you, his wife, but you quickly put an end to it, basically turning the boy into her older brother. He didn’t mind at all - if anything he is sometimes way too eager to push the two of you to go on a date so he can babysit. Often you would return to the two fast asleep either on the girl’s bed or cuddled to Mimi with toys scattered and at least two books lying on the floor. The huge lion adores the girl - sometimes you feel like it thinks of her as its own cub, and the thick mane of hair your daughter got from her father does not help.

And it appeared to be as eager to steal your daughter from you as your husband is…

“Y/n!” You practically jump when the doors to your bedroom fly open and Jing Yuan bursts inside. Immediately you notice his disheveled state - hair down and a mess, the robe he wore this morning for comfortable work in his home office is falling off one of his shoulders and a shoe is missing from his foot.

“Aeons, Yuan, don’t scare me like that,” you put a comb down on your vanity table and fully turn to face him. “What happened?”

“Is our precious baby with you?” He steps further into the room and starts looking around frantically. Okay, now that got worrisome.

“No? You took her earlier this afternoon after lunch to play in your study while you work. Have you really forgotten that? My love, you are getting old.”

You hear clearly as he curses under his breath, raking thick fingers through his hair. The golden eyes look at you and in them you spot a flicker of anxiety.

“...Jing Yuan, don’t tell me that you managed to lose our daughter.”

“I didn’t, I swear,” he winces at the full name usage, watching you rise from your seat and quickly approach him. “She was right by my side, watching the animal videos on my phone, but then I got immersed in the latest reports from the Sky-Faring Commission and when I finished whose - she was gone!”

“Uh, want me to call your phone? Maybe she still has it.”

To that he puts a hand in the robe’s pocket and brings out his device. Oh god.

“It was lying on the floor, still playing videos.”

“Okay, deep breaths,” you are not sure if you are telling it to him or to yourself, but you too take an inhale, meanwhile busying your hands with adjusting his clothes. “Even buried in work you’d still notice if a human sneaked in, right?” He nods. “And you’d notice if she left - she would’ve warned you about that.” He nods again, lips pursed and eyes staring at one point. “Yanqing is not as skilled to come unannounced and take her, and he wouldn’t do it without your permission, so-”

“Wait,” his hand catches yours and realization flashes in his features. “Mimi came.”

“...Mimi?” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your husband turns around and rushes out of the bedroom. Concerned and a little bit intrigued, you quickly follow.

In one of the rooms of your huge house the two of you finally find the lion, and Jing Yuan almost drops on the floor in relief when his girl is spotted in the animal’s embrace.

“Is she…sleeping?” You ask, glancing from behind his broad back.

“It appears so. Hey, Mimi,” the maned head lifts, two ambers taking in your appearances and a pleased huff is let out through the nose upon recognition.

“Well, my dear,” you pat his shoulder, shaking your head, “it appears that people were right - like the owner, like the pet. Congratulations, your lion took your habit of stealing our daughter to heart. Good luck prying her from it.”

“You say it like it’s something hard to do,” there it is, a confident smile is back on his face as he strides closer to the animal, ready to bend down and get his girl. Only for that lift of the corners of his lips to be gone when Mimi growls at him in a warning and shields your daughter’s little body with its head.

You only smirk and leave the scene to go and get your phone - there is no way you are not filming your husband dealing with the consequences of his own behavior.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #blade x fem!reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x fem!reader #loucha x reader #loucha x fem!reader #sampo x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x fem!reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x fem!reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff

7K notes · View notes