#Rails 6

[princesscas-ao3]

"phainon of aedes elysiae, what is your dream?" and then it's him back to back with mydei on a celebratory dromas, with aglaea standing behind them. the romance demigod. who marries people. and there's a rainbow over their faces. phainon's dream is to get married to mydei publicly. hoyoverse. hoyoverse when i catch you

[ihavesomejays]

on first loves yunqing lol they are silly that's it that's the prompt anyways i think this is like the first thing i've posted here that has an actual background which is kind of insane. i think you can tell i don't draw backgrounds very often. anyways yunqing is so ponytail puller annoying each other even though they've realized they like each other core and it's satisfying my peepaw heart

bg only/closeups under keep reading

[jmgangel]

Cipher’s last words were calling out to Aglaea. Mydei’s last words were calling out to Phainon. Both their voices, usually so confident, so uncharacteristically soft.

Honkai Star Rail the absolute cinema you produce.

[ghost-of-tk]

made this awhile ago but have since made several amendments.

[twoandahalfdimes]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LITTLE BABY BOY AAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I NEED TO GIVE HIM ALL THE KISSES IN THE WORLD HE'S SO PRECIOUS TO ME

[springheatedwine]

Ratio with a halovian lover? Like he enjoys preening their wings and hearing them coo like a bird(I just like to put bird attitude on halovians lmao)

//first off... I'm such a dumbass cuz I thought you wanted a halovian ratio I CANT READ I CANT 😭😭😭 but uh I hope you like this...

[opikiquu]

[lunasdreamytreats]

Thinking abt soft and passionate sex with Sunday...

Pairing: Sunday x fem!reader

Contents/Warnings: NSFW // established relationship // self-ship coded bc yeah // some personal headcanons in here too // soft dom!Sunday // reader is a nameless but isn't the trailblazer // possible spoilers for 2.7 // slight mention of Sunday's insecurities // petnames (darling, angel, sunny🤭, dear) // Sunday has six ear wings for, like, a sentence // pillow talk and mentions of aftercare

idk what else to put this is as soft as can be :) nsfw under cut

-------------------------------------------------------

Sunday longed for your touch.

He never used to desire the feeling of anyone constantly wanting to be so close to him, nor wanting to be so close to another person. But ever since he was given a second chance at freedom, started travelling with the Astral Express, and in turn, met you, he wants to be around you whenever he can.

It even gets to the point that, whenever he's away from the express and you're not, his only desire is to get back and see his darling, you. March 7th always rolls her eyes when he gets back and goes straight to find you if you're not in his immediate sight; "Not even a 'hi guys' before rushing off!" she would complain to Dan Heng as soon as he was out of ear shot, but she, like the others, were happy to see you both happy together. This gets more obvious when he's been away from you for hours days :(

Rest assured, he won't let you have any space when he finally gets back, because, in addition to his increased clinginess; something else in him has also increased since your relationship began...

His libido. Before meeting you, Sunday was the kind of person that saw sex as something purely for making children; something his religious upbringing under The Family had a part in. So, after the first time you slept with him, you suggested the two of you experiment with different positions and concepts to spice things up in the bedroom. And after reassuring Sunday multiple times that you do, in fact, enjoy having sex with him; he agreed to your proposal.

Weeks went by with you and Sunday testing out various kinks/positions that came to mind, some sparked new kinks in both of you, others didn't. And while you assured him that it's ok if he doesn't enjoy something and you do, nothing will ever be able to beat holding each other close as he thrusts in for you and him.

Tangled up in a mess of bedsheets and muffled moans, Sunday's hips snapped into yours at a feverish pace, the rhythmic throb of his cock a show of the wanton pleasure he felt. You can't help but want a camera to capture just how beautiful he looks when letting his desires take control... With his hair slightly damp with sweat, cheeks flushed pink and wings covering his face in embarrassment; just how did you manage to catch the eye of such an ethereal man?

"Sunday, please...." You didn't know what you were begging him for exactly, was it for him to slow down? Or were you begging for him to go faster? It doesn't matter, all that matters now is the way his dick drags against your tight walls. The way his tip reaches deep enough to nudge against the spot that made you see stars. You let your head fall back against the soft familiarity of the pillow, the puffy fabric muffling the sounds of raw pleasure that Sunday's hips brought out.

"Angel...." Sunday curled his arms around your body tighter, pulling your body closer against his own. The needy and possessive squeeze of the flesh on your waist a complete contrast to his confident thrusts. His nails almost certainly leaving crescent shaped marks by the morning. "Don't.... Wanna hear you lose yourself on me.."

Dispite his nervousness, Sunday knew exactly how to hit all your soft spots. Hitting them with insane precision and force that made both your heads spin in pure, wanton pleasure. The vice like grip your pussy walls have on his dick makes it a little difficult for him to keep himself grounded in the moment. Both his and your blissed out expressions showing how whipped you are for each other.

"Sunny... m'gonna cum-" You knew calling him that nickname would make him a little bit embarrassed, and you felt a little bad about it (but a bashful Sunny is the best Sunny <3). You quivered in his hold, trying your best to stay still, but the pleasure you felt was just too much! Your whole body twitched under him as your orgasm overtook you, pussy clenching around Sunday's dick and milking him for all he's worth. The suffocating sensation triggered his own orgasm to crash over him, burying his face into the crook of your neck to muffle the noises escaping him; his now six wings flapped and shivered against your face in pure, unadulterated bliss.

"Don't... aahh- don't call me that... darling" the breathless whisper was further muffled since his wings were covering his face, the very same wings that were still shivering from the aftershocks of his orgasm and tickling your faces. You giggled lightheartedly at his adorableness, gently tracing the marks on his back while you both basked in the post-sex bliss.

“Sorry dear, but there’s just something so hilarious about saying a nickname you claim to hate to get you to cum.”

“….You’re truly insufferable….”

“I know… now can you run a bath for us? I kinda can’t move after you rearranged my insides…”

[cyphynte]

I'm both sorry for this and not.

[chiblpic]

YEEHAW!!!! SBR PLUS HSR WHAAAAT??? 💥💥💥💥💥 (Absolutely not a jojo reference)

[luochas]

HONKAI: STAR RAIL (2023) jade trailer ✴ a collection of desires dev. hoyoverse

[daozhangg]

somewhat old-ish sunaxa from a few months ago but I still think they're pretty ..maybe I'll redraw this one

[nativesofthenorthpole]

What if the jedi had like a galactic culture day/week where the jedi all dressed in the traditional garments of their home planet and the initiates/padawans got to have a week where they focused on fun traditions and cooked food from different planets each day etc.

And like, sucks for Anakin obviously since he isn't keen to celebrate Tatooine culture so after his first disastrous culture day Obi-Wan keeps them far away from the temple.

Well now Anakin's grown up and often away when he is on Corucant anyway... so Obi-Wan decides to partake in culture day for the first time in a decade.

And (noe we get to the point) the cultural garments of Stewjon are slutty. Or maybe they technically aren't. Like maybe Obi-Wan's kilt from ten years ago is now a bit short and tight but he doesn't have time to replace it. Or the outfit is not slutty exactly, but it is pretty revealing, and no one is used to seeing mr modesty show any skin so it is quite scandalous.

And! Then Anakin comes back to the temple to see his barely dressed master all tipsy from the celebrations...

And then... Obi-Wan gets railed.

[aventurineswife]

"The Destiny Waltz" - Anaxagorus x Astrologist! Reader

This a piece that blends elegance with a tinge of melancholy, perfect for someone like him: enigmatic, philosophical, and most certainly burdened by intellect and isolation... One of my favorites of the Vanitas OST. They have to dance for this one, no matter how they get in this position... I want it. Need him analyzing us during it, ugh. <3

Waltzing Through a Vanishing Sky

Summary: You find yourself drawn into a bittersweet memory — a waltz with the infamous scholar Anaxagoras. Beneath the haunting elegance of a masquerade and the glimmer of false stars, you dance with the man whose mind shaped revolutions and whose soul defied gods. He analyzes your every move, worships your contradictions, and holds you like a revelation. But even in his arms, you remember: this is just a memory. He is already gone. Still, for a moment, you let the illusion breathe — because in this dance, he is alive again.

Tags: Anaxagoras x Reader, Astrologist!Reader, Ballroom Dance, Slow Burn, Philosophical Romance, Emotional Intimacy, Grief, Memory, Soft Angst, Melancholic Fluff, Dreamlike Atmosphere, Poetic Narration, Forbidden Love, Canon Character Death (Past), Strong Emotional Undercurrents.

Warnings: Themes of grief and loss, Allusions to past enslavement and trauma (?), Canon character death (Anaxagoras), Emotional vulnerability and psychological depth, Brief mentions of violence (defensive context), Intense romantic/psychological tension.

Tagslist: @sewoui, @tremendoustragedybard, @axolotsofluv

The marble floor was veined like frozen lightning, the reflection of crystalline chandeliers splintered across the ballroom like stardust caught in amber. The gala was a masquerade, a satire of opulence held beneath a dome meant to mimic the heavens. The stars were false tonight — suspended gems glimmering coldly, as if mocking your gaze. You would have left, you truly would have, if not for the presence that tethered you like gravity itself: Anaxagoras.

He stood at the center of the chaos, untouched by it.

His capelet flickered with candlelight, stitched gold glimmering like constellations undone. The teal of his jacket was too solemn for the occasion, too sharp, too honest — much like him. A gloved hand held a crystal goblet barely touched, and his visible eye shimmered, calculating, already miles away from the chatter around him.

You caught his gaze.

An axis tilted.

He raised his eyebrow, a barely-there curl of recognition lacing his lips. “Astronomer,” he murmured once you were close enough, voice like velvet dragged through ash. “I thought you despised these kinds of gatherings.”

You tilted your head. “Only when I’m not expected to correct everyone’s understanding of celestial motion mid-toast.”

He huffed — a rare noise that might have been amusement. “How fortunate that you arrived, then. I was considering faking a collapse to escape.”

You brushed past him, feigning nonchalance even as your heart stammered. “You’d enjoy the attention.”

He followed, of course. He always did. “That, or I needed an excuse for us to leave together.”

The music shifted — languid, romantic, haunted. It was composed for a court that no longer existed, and cursed for the ones that did. The chords tangled like starlight with shadow, a song that pretended to dance, but grieved with every step.

A noblewoman brushed past you with a trill of laughter, and Anaxa caught your arm. Not roughly. Not gently either — like he was making a statement.

“Dance with me,” he said, and you froze.

Your pulse faltered. “You don’t dance.”

His smile — sharp as frost on the edge of a scalpel. “Then let this be my first and only heresy performed willingly.”

You didn’t realize how tightly you gripped him until his fingers pried yours apart, guiding them to his shoulder. His other hand settled low at your waist — a silent, scorching brand. The violins arched overhead like meteors, and then—

You moved.

Step. Pivot. Draw.

He was terrible at this. Calculated and deliberate, like dissecting a corpse. He over-analyzed every angle, every press of your palm, every breath.

“You’re thinking too hard,” you murmured.

“I’m documenting,” he corrected. “This is a rare instance where the motion of heavenly bodies doesn’t follow Newtonian logic. Your gaze… it contradicts gravity.”

You flushed, furious at how easy he made you feel delicate. “Shut up and sway.”

The ballroom blurred. All else became irrelevant. It was him, you, the music — and the soft glow of fabricated stars reflecting in his lone, magenta-rimmed eye. He studied you like a passage from a forbidden codex, like a map of constellations no one else had ever traced.

"You looked beautiful when you threatened to decapitate that nobleman earlier,” he said, too softly.

You snorted. “He insulted the child.”

“And you reacted precisely as expected.” His grip tightened fractionally. “You are both fire and tide — and that dichotomy, it’s... intoxicating.”

You lost a step. He caught you.

“You're mocking me,” you accused.

He leaned close, breath brushing your cheek. “No. I’m worshipping.”

The orchestra swelled. So did the pain.

Because beneath this masquerade, beneath the masks and the myth and the dancing, you remembered what he had forgotten.

He was already dead.

You were dancing with a memory.

An echo.

But gods, you let yourself stay there — in that dreamscape of sound and silk and searing eyes — because in that fleeting second, he wasn’t the Demised Scholar.

He was Anaxa.

And he was holding you like you mattered more than the truth.

[Navigation]

[deltame13]

STILL NOT OVER THIS BTW!!

[buffonias]