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leaf-line · 4 months ago

Note

For the request, can I please have Yandere Topaz, Jade, and Ruan Mei x people pleasure reader headcanon (seperate).

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭

Yandere! Topaz/Jade/Ruan Mei x Gn! Reader

❏ In which your selfless deeds catch someone's attention for no good reason.

cw: suggestive themes, dehumanization, isolation, brainwashing, non-consensual (french) kiss, Ruan Mei being gross.

w/c: 1,484

"Care for a drink Miss Topaz? Maybe I can help with your problems..." You offer a juice to her, and a hand. Co-worker [Name], a diligent worker in the Strategic Investment Department, seen around doing favors and extra work just for everyone... But why won't you just help her and only her instead?

"Oh, thank you! And no thank you, I can do these all by myself, how about you take care of yourself, and take a rest? You're always so helpful, [Name]." Topaz takes the juice gratefully with a smile.

"No... The same goes for you, Miss Topaz, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here having this position." You bow your head before hearing someone call you.

"[Name]! Do you have anything to do right now!? I need you assistance with this—"

"Yes! Yes! Coming right up!" You scurry to the voice, but not before giving a little wave to Topaz.

She returns the wave. Before looking back to the screen... And frowns. "It's only a matter of time." She mumbles.

Oddly enough, in the next three days after just being in the IPC, you were announced as Topaz's own personal assistant.

"This is... A bit surprising... But I look forward to being your assistant from now on, Miss Topaz." You smile, she smiles too.

"No, Jelena is fine, you're my assistant now, right? You don't need to be formal. I just have one rule... Don't assist any other workers from the IPC if it's not me, alright?" She orders.

"May I ask why...?"

"I simply don't want you to be led astray from your work, now, am I clear?"

What... a weird request, but you follow it nonetheless. For one day, that is, you only lasted one day, when that another co-worker of yours, begged for your assistance, you couldn't refuse, you weren't trained for that.

"Awh come on, [Name]! Just because you're now Topaz's assistant, doesn't mean you don't have to help your other co-workers too!" The person in front of you moaned.

"I'm sorry but, Miss Topa—Jelena advised me not to—"

"It's just very little work, it won't kill you will it? Just help me."

"...A-Alright, fine..."

...After that time, you never saw that same co-worker again the next day, from what you've seen, he was fired from his job because of workplace harassment, you don't know if it's true, you doubt that it's true... and Jelena... didn't seem happy when she confronts you about your deed.

"Didn't I personally said to you that you shouldn't assist anyone other than me?"

She sighs and shakes her head disappointedly. Your back was facing the wall as she pushes up her thigh below your crotch.

"I can't believe you would just disobey me that early, maybe I should start teaching you and training so you won't be pushed around from others like that."

Teaching you and training you like a pet, that is. A cute, little pet who won't disobey her master. That's what Topaz shamelessly labels you as.

You walked into the pawn shop nervously. You swallow, feeling like you've entered a dangerous territory.

"Welcome to Bonajade Exchange. Who are you? And what do you seek?" An unfamiliar and elegant voice rang from behind the curtain.

"I wish... To help my friends." You mumbled out loud.

"Hm? Why is that?" Though you can't see her, you can feel her smiling through her lips. "Are you sure you're here for the sake of someone else?" She muses.

"They've... Been struggling with expenses, I don't know what offer you but myself... I owe them many." You tell her with a sad tone.

"You're sacrificing yourself for the sake of your friend? That's very noble, we can arrange that. Though, since you're here at my pawnshop, I'd like to hear what you want for your own self."

"No need. I'll do what I can to help other people." You fidget, yet say with full honestly, Lady Bonajade senses that. There is not single greedy bone in your body, fellows like you were rare, it's about time she found a rare gem, just like Jelena.

"I see," She raises the curtains. "In exchange for other people's needs, why don't you work at this shop?" She offers.

You cleaned the pawnshop, bargained for Jade, advertised the shop for the people in need. You kept the store running, but you didn't show any signs of uplifting the profits into another level, you were just a side piece, keeping the shop regulating like normal, and it was insufficient for Jade.

But it's fine, Jade doesn't leave an exchange until she gets real value.

You were cut ties from your family thinking that you were just busy and working hard to provide yourself and sending a lot of resources to them, your friends were now happy and financially stable but never really checked on you whether your doing good, the people you care and know were healthy, but they don't need you. Now you find your hands weighting chains, attached to the shackle on your wrist.

If there's one thing Jade found joy in, it's reaping a pure, untaited, soul.

"Come closer here," Jade gestures you to come over, you obey, broken. You see her lips, tainted with dark red lipstick, it comes closer, not on your face.

And just as Adam bit the apple, Jade bites your neck.

"Ruan Mei, you're burnt out, please take a rest, I'll handle all of this research." You place a blanket on her shoulder.

"Would you like a cup of tea? A plate of cake? Embroider something? Please inform me, I'll... I'll handle it." You say with a smile.

Ruan Mei was tired, she had been researching Aeons for a couple of weeks, barely feeding herself. And usually, when Ruan Mei was tired, she wouldn't entrust anyone with her research... Except for you.

Ruan Mei's trusty little assistant, whom she's sure no matter what she asks you for, you would do that.

"...I want a cake." She answers, though delayed.

"Oh, alright!" You seem delighted to be doing a favor. You ran into the kitchen, preparing the food as Ruan Mei daydreams.

Why were you so insistent in helping her? Why do you do everything in your power to please her? You're strange, a strange person, Ruan Mei shouldn't care, she shouldn't care about your well being, she shouldn't care why your here to help her.

"I'm at your service, Ruan Mei."

"Do you need any help? I'll be sure to help you with what you need, Ruan Mei."

"Ruan Mei."

"Ruan Mei—"

"Ruan Mei, your desert is ready..." She snaps out of her daydream and glances at you, then the plate you're holding.

She blinks. "Apologies, I blanked out."

"It's alright."

You don't say her name, she's just a bit slightly dissapointed. But it was never shown in her face.

You hand over the dessert you made for her, she takes it. You studied Ruan Mei's personal favorite desserts, food, tea and how it's all tailored to Ruan Mei's tastes. Your cooking is always bound to be above her expectations.

She takes a bite of the cake and you see her lips curl up by two milimeters, which sounds a lot.

"...Would like me to share?" She must've noticed you staring at her, you shake your head at the offer. "I mean no harm, I simply want to share my food to you, is that alright?"

You obey her regardless...

She looks at her research paper, at the table, only to get a headache since none if it provided her help towards her goal. She opts focusing on you instead.

"Here, say ahh..." Using the spoon, she takes a good amount of portion of the cake and tried to feed you with it like you're a baby.

"Ruan Mei, that is a bit... Embarrassing..."

You said her name, she relishes.

"It's fine, you only deserve, after all the times you helped me, come on, you don't need to lift a finger." She pushes the spoon to your lips, so you awkwardly open your mouth and the cake enters.

"...Say my name." She orders, but your eating something... That's not a problem, right?

"Ruan Mei, wh—Mmph!?"

She intrudes, exploring your mouth with her tongue, feeling the food that you personally made for her, she takes a part of it, and exits your mouth.

She swallows the cake with your saliva coatted in it then licks her lips. "Mm. Delectable." She nods, as if she's rating the experience with 4.5 stars.

You were left there with a dumbfounded expression, confused, perhaps even grossed out.

It's fine, brainwashing isn't hard to conduct, you'll forget this ever happened in no time. Just as how you forgot you were trapped in her home against your will in the first place.

a/n: mmm... manipulative women... 😋

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magicdefendorwolf · 2 years ago

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Injuries pt2

Description:you come back from your travels injured,how do they react?

Warnings:injuries obviously but its vague

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Blade

He was seriously trying to have a calm and nice night,but then you walked in,all injured

"Where were you?"pauses and eyes you up and down"what happened?who did that?"

He sighs,gets up and carries you to your bed and then goes to get medicine and bandages

He swears to himself he is not panicking,if someone where to say he's panicking right now he'd deny it until his dying breath and in the afterlife,but the way he rummages through the medicine cabinets and searches for bandages says a different story

Truly,his actions betray his words,he says he's all calm but just look at the way his movements seem agitated,brows just a tad furrowed together,you'd have to squint so hard to actually see it on his face

But once he's got you all patched you better expect a lecture,but it doesnt sound like a lecture if you dont know him,if you didnt know anything about him at all it'd just sound as if he was listing off all of the things you did wrong that got you into this situation,but you know thats his way of telling you that you werent careful enough and giving advice

If you cant walk or move around much while your injuries heal he'll drop by your room during meal times with food and eat together with you and then leave,if you ask him nicely maybe he'll stay to keep you company,but otherwise dont expect him to stick around too long

But if you can walk and move around well,no you cant if he considers your injuries to be too grave,then you are staying in bed whether you have the ability to move or not,no questions asked

Once you're all healed up even if you wont see it Blade becomes overprotective,as i said you wont be seeing it since it'll be very subtle things,you'd have to pick up the hints off the floor

Overall 7/10 because you'll be confined to your bed and he wont have any idea of how to keep you company,plus the sass

Jing Yuan

He was worried the moment he realized you were late

"Where were you?"pauses and looks at you"Forget it lets just get you a doctor"

He doesnt even let you respond before he swoops you up bridal style and brings you to a doctor

Once the doctor is done patching you up he takes you back home,and lays you in bed,obviously he's not panicked or alarmed,just stressed about your state

Why didnt you call him? How did this happen? Why wasnt he there?

Nethier way he'll brush all that aside to take care of you

If you have to be bedridden he'll be at your beck and call until your injuries are fully healed,keeping you entertained with stories,jokes,mindless talks and even board games

If you can move around and dont have to stay in bed then great,you're still not moving too much,because he's carrying you almost everywhere due to the fact that he's worried over you physical condition

Once you're all recovered he'll have a serious talk with you about your safety and how you can rely on him

9/10 only because of the way he's blame himself for what happened to you

Gepard

He was happy to finally use what little time he had to spend with you,but then you walked in

"Huh?! Love what happened?!"

He'd rush to your side and carry you to lay down,and despite being initially alarmed he calms down and gets his priorities in order and gets you to a doctor

After you're all patched up he'll carry you back home and do whatever he can to help you. He sees silvermane guards get injured due to monsters almost daily so he's used to injuries,but even so,seeing his partner injured like this still worries him to no end

And he wont try to hide his worries about you

He's an experienced and strong silvermane guard,heck he"s even the head of the silvermane guards,why didnt you take him along with you? He could've prevented this,the situation definetly frustrates him and he's not afraid to show it

If you cant move around much and have to stay in bed he becomes your personal butler when he's around,bringing you food,doing chores and doing his best to keep you entertained and healing

And during times when he's on duty and cant be near you he'll ask his sister for help

If you arent bedridden then you have full mama bear Gepard because, oh boy the overprotectiveness that you never knew he had comes out

You want to cook by yourself? Oh no way is he letting you on your own,he's coming to help and he'll do most of it. You want to take a walk? Sure but you only get to walk for a bit before he's carrying you

Overall 10/10,do i need to explain?

Yanqing

He was so excited for you to come back,he was basically beaming knowing you were on your way

"Ah you're finally back!"he pauses and takes a good look at you"Huh?! Are you alright?! Come lets get you to a doctor!"

Initially he'll be panicked,very,until after the doctor is done bandaging your wounds and everything,thats when he finally relaxes after he's been pacing around like a headless chicken

And you better expect a full blown lecture,dont even think you can escape this lecture through any ways

As much as he loves you,he worried so much and still is seeing you in such a state,of course he'll be scolding you about not taking care of yourself and about being reckless

When he's finally calmed down he'll be placing his arms on your bedside and place his head onto his crossed arms right at the edge of your bed and just talk to you,he'll even play with your hand while talking to you,playing with your hand and vice versa or holding hands calms him down so

If you have to be bedridden then prepare for a full alert mode Yanqing because this man right here has your whole entire treatement memorized by heart if you have one(changing bandages,medicine for the wounds,pain killers,etc.),and since he has to leave the house due to his duties he'll leave everything prepared in a way that gives you easy acces to food,board games,books,snacks,anything you'd need

If you dont have to stay in bed then great,he'll get you to move around with him hoping it'll make your wounds better,of course he wont push you beyond your limit but still,he'll also be extra careful with you asking you quite often how you're feeling and if you're alright

9/10 only because he'd be so stressed and worried over you

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#hsr x reader #jing yuan hsr #blade hsr #yanqing hsr #gepard hsr #gepard x reader #gepard #blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #yanqing x reader #yanqing #x reader #headcannons #hcs #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail

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slowd1ving · 5 months ago

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STRESS, STRAIN: THE TALE OF YOUNG MODULUS AND A FORLORN PHYSICS STUDENT ゜゜・BLADE DRABBLE

Dealing with a stalker roommate? No problem, Kafka's got the perfect solution: staying with the unapproachable and cold Blade. Teetering the thin line between sleeping on the streets and facing his rumored wrath, it sure is hard keeping your balance when the engineering student is anything but civil. gender-neutral, physics major reader paired with college au + band au (will come into play in another part I swear) see here for some basic designs for them warnings: some violence? consumption of alcohol, arguments, blade being a dick, college au wc: 6.3k

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

✧ Perhaps it’s lucky that your acquaintance Kafka finds you at your most dire of moments, or perhaps it’s your Achilles-level misfortune finally catching up to you. Dorm changes aren’t particularly infrequent, sure—but dealing with a stalkerish, obsessive roommate is definitely story-material for when you’re downing shots. Literature major Kafka isn’t one to turn her magnanimous back on whom she considers a friend, even if said friend is currently wallowing their sorrows away by complaining about the lack of available dorms to make the switch and drowning in hard liquor. ✧ Saviour Kafka, who plays for notorious metal group Stellaron Hunters (she’s a suave electric violinist), finds this a perfect opportunity to help out the cute guitarist from the rival Trailblazers! Her deft fingers are already sending a message to her pinned contact and drummer: Bladie, finally found you a roommate. Respond. It should be okay to put two college students (in bands infamous for their tense rivalry on– and off–campus) together in the proverbial lab rat cage; after all, neither of you are aware of who the other is behind the elaborate masks. It’s not like there’s a deficit of music groups at the Astral Institute—so who will ever know? Don’t ask how she knows the face behind the pretty Venetian mask. She won’t ever tell. ✧ Honestly, she’s not sure how the bad blood started (she helped spread the rumours). All she cares about is doing you a solid!

“You think the streets will accept me for who I am?” Even with your head slumped over your forearms and the smell of cheap vodka clinging to your clothes, Kafka thinks you look naively charming in the dim amber lights of a bar pretending to be upscale. And by naive, she means very naive—for real, how can a physics major be so gullible as to not question their roommate’s deranged tendencies until it’s far too late? It’s hilarious.

She’d dissect how this mood is perfectly, pathetically fallacious to your situation; yet her mind is too honed in on the buzz of her phone as Blade finally replies to her text.

“Kafka,” you bawl into a stack of papers you’d salvaged from your ransacked dorm. “What if the asphalt doesn’t like me when I’m sleeping in the streets?”

21:48 > ok.

Kafka, being an expert at metaphorical and allegorical interpretation, translates Blade-speak easily: let’s discuss this tomorrow, please and thank you.

“Found you a roomie,” she murmurs delightedly, watching with her hawk-keen eyes as you sit up drunkenly.

“That was fast, even for you,” you wipe your eyes cautiously—still wracked with the occasional hiccup. “Who is it?”

“Blade. You know him?”

✧ That sobers you right up. Of course you know him. Nicknamed Blade for how cold and unfriendly he is, you’ve personally seen him in engineering lectures: making people shiver from just his gaze alone, and on one notable occasion, making his project partner cry after his infamously harsh criticism of her proposal. It’s common knowledge that he practises various martial arts, but the rumours that circle around him like vultures whisper of how he uses them on the streets. But whilst you doubt the reliability of the latter talk, it’s hard not to picture his hands dripping sanguine when his eyes glint the same shade. ✧ Honestly, how bad could it be? It’s not like you have any other options unless you want to wake up with your roommate standing over you while you sleep again. After her, you doubt he’ll be any more of a walking nightmare. ✧ Perfect!—Kafka is a bit too enthusiastic at your reluctant nodding, but you cast it from your mind as you pack your stuff with Caelus and Stelle standing behind you like a pair of twin guard dogs. One good thing about this is that you can finally take your guitar with you (rather than storing it safely at Dan Heng’s room) to the apartment—because of course he’s too good for the dorms. Though, after experiencing your batshit roommate, you really can’t blame him for avoiding this area. ✧ Maybe, just maybe, the rumours about him being insane too are false and you can finally have a peaceful night’s rest without fearing for your life.

Yeah right. You hate him. You genuinely hate the man over in the room next door. The passage of time on your phone indicates it’s only been a week since you showed up with five boxes of belongings and a nervous smile on your lips—but the agony you’re going through prolongs this mental period to eternity.

Sisyphus embodies futility for evermore; as do you when you’re knocking on his door for the nth time to beg him to quiet down on his drums. The timings are so meticulous and calculative that you’re sure you could work out a linear sequence to this situation if you tried.

Exhausted from the laboratory job you’re juggling on top of band practice and reading on Dirac notations? No problem—Blade’s busy expressing how you feel in terms of loud crashing and banging that you hate to admit is (very technically) skilled.

Recalling your first encounter—your nervous smile and his cold indifference as you moved into the room next to his—it’s not hard to imagine that he’d be inconsiderate of you. Those red eyes had slid right past you like oil on water: judging you to be not worth his time to even greet properly. In fact, it’s like he’s trying to chase you out so you leave him alone for good.

The deep mahogany door swings inward, and you’re left facing an unimpressed, scowling Blade. With the way he’s clutching those drumsticks, you’d think he was about to skewer you—but you’re a bit too preoccupied with how he’s only sporting a pair of loose navy trousers that cascade languidly from his hips.

“What do you want?” Laconic as ever, he gets straight to the point with his question—as if he can’t possibly fathom why you’ve come knocking. Just like this morning, just like last night, the night before, the night before yesterday’s—every damned night is a problem.

“For you to invest in soundproofing,” you scowl back, too tired to keep up the fragile facade of politeness. At least when you practise with the electric guitar, you can easily hook it up to a pair of headphones and protect the sanctity of silence elsewhere. Actually, you don’t think he even knows your guitar exists with how considerate you are of your asshole roommate.

“Why should I?” he crosses his arms, looking directly down at you. If you looked closely, the slight stretch of his lips resembled a smirk—but you’re definitely mistaken, since the man never so much as smiles. The cold expression accompanying his crude words sums up his thoughts: if you don’t like it, beg Kafka for whatever other solution she has.

His inky hair sways from where it’s tied back, and you resist the urge to yank it until he sees sense.

“For better quality of life,” you grit out.

Those eyes turn into sardonic crescents. “I’m good.”

And the door is shut.

✧ Fortunately, you’ve managed to fall asleep in the middle of the practise room before on countless occasions; tuning the heavy thumping comes easy after a while when you’re exhausted and practically dead on your feet. The problem is during the day—doing your assigned reading and writing up results from practical work comes much harder when you’re constantly accompanied by the rhythmic percussion of a madman who favours metal. It gets so rowdy that you seriously consider whether he’s part of the Stellaron Hunters and knows you’re a Trailblazer—it would make sense, after all, if he was just feeling extra spiteful. However, from the trembling students claiming to be his previous roommates, this is just common treatment: him basically telling them to beat it and never return. ✧ Two can play at that game. Upon complaining to Kafka of his (rage-inducing) musical tendencies, she suggests that you get back at him with your electric guitar. Don’t ask her how she knows, no she’s not trying to instigate and watch the chaos—Kafka attempts to reassure you. You don’t trust the shady writer one bit, but both Data Analysis major Dan Heng and Environmental Studies student March 7th give the plan the go ahead. If you’re not mistaken, you can hear a touch of personal grief in the normally composed Dan Heng’s voice—something so poignantly irritated you wonder what the story between them is. ✧ Contrary to his nonchalant attitude, it’s clear he’s annoyed by the loud chords that buzz through the apartment. As soon as he picks up his drumsticks, you plug the guitar to the amps and thoroughly mess with him. You know enough from Caelus’ repertoire to place each genre of music Blade starts to play (which is limited to metal). No problem—you play various styles that decidedly aren’t metal and are so discordant with his own tempo you can’t help but keep a grin on your lips. He’s much too stubborn to knock on your door, but the irritated twitch of his eyes in the kitchen belies just how aggravating this is. And when you know he’s scrawling down notes for his classes, that’s when you’re practising your metal riffs and playing around with the fretboard. If you’re feeling particularly nice, you’ll play along to some darkwave gothic music—something relatively more calm—but these occasions are few and far between.

Chromatic eyes pierce your back while you deftly chop vegetables for your dinner. Really, now’s the best time to do work: when you’re busy with cooking and not insistent on plaguing him with jarring melodies. For someone so logical when it comes to his meticulous classwork, he sure doesn’t seem it as he leans against the counter on the other side of the kitchen—sipping water and just staring at you while you Julienne an onion.

You shoot him a withering glance as you toss the slices into a bowl on the side, and he glares at you with a matched fervour. If it weren’t for the fact that you literally don’t have anywhere else to go—Caelus doesn’t even have a couch for you to sleep on—you’d have moved out a long time ago.

It’s a rustic space: sage green cabinets filled with charming, mismatched plates and cups; glossy white counters that house various herbs and the occasional plant; a lacquered table in the middle that has a vase holding a singular dried flower. An orange lily—still retaining a vibrancy that conceals just how long it’s been there. You wouldn’t have expected this style of decor from him, but at the same time, you doubt it’s his influence so much as Kafka’s.

“Do you have a problem?” you probe icily, turning back to where you’re slicing a carrot into thin matchsticks; if there was a god somewhere, you’d hope it could transfigure the man behind you into the root vegetable you’re enthusiastically chopping.

“No.” And when he speaks again, he’s right behind you. There’s a sink to your left, but he’s much too close as his breath ghosts over the nape of your neck. Affronted, you turn around; only to watch as his eyes widen minutely, glass of water slipping out of his grasp and spilling down your front.

“You dickhead.” Your hands angrily grab at his collar—unheeding or perhaps uncaring of his reputation for violence as you feel the cold seep into your skin. You’re seething; for someone with such good reflexes, this is a new level of low in attempting to chase you out. Or perhaps it’s revenge for finally getting under his skin. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

It’s a little too late when you realise the position you’re in: skin showing through the translucent material, breathing shallow from your infuriation, face glaring right up at his.

“Sorry.” His voice rings out insincere—and there’s that damn faint smile still toying at his face as he looks directly at you with that heavy gaze. “My hand slipped.”

You shove him back, too disgusted to acknowledge him any further. Maybe if you turned back around, you’d see the tiniest pricks of red on his face as you tossed your soaked shirt into the washing machine—leaving you in a damp vest while you continued cooking for yourself. Maybe if you looked back at least once, you’d see the amusement in his eyes as you maul the bok choy on the cutting board.

Those are maybes.

There’s particular things you know for certain. One, you despise him and his existence. Two, he abhors you and your entire being—because why else would he be so insistent in making you leave out of your own volition?

✧ It’s the time of year that you hate: joint engineering classes so you can cover the materials aspect for your physics studies. Well, it’s not like you hated it from the very beginning—you’ve hated it ever since you realised that once again, you’d have to be in the incorrigible presence of Blade. While he did finally install some soundproofing in his room, he’s taken it upon himself to linger wherever you’re present. Typing up your notes on the deep maroon couch with a mug of lavender tea perched on the coffee table? He’s in the window seat, looking over a thick reference manual for tensile strengths. Going to meet bassist Dan Heng so the two of you can play around with various lines for your next song? He’s at the convenience store you briefly stop at, gazing at you before he glares at your friend. Practising a slow solo in the living room (it’s really got the best ambience)? He’s tapping out a beat that you can very faintly now hear—one that surprisingly goes with the electrifying chords. ✧ Point is, you’re ignoring him and his presence—while he’s inching ever closer. It comes to a head at the lecture hall; you decide to sit in the third row, since it’s both far from the back (where he usually frequents) and it doesn’t make you look like a beg. When you glance at his predestined seat, it’s empty—unsurprisingly as he’s there usually a minute before the professor—while the seat next to him is taken by a girl you’ve seen before. Despite his horrible personality and the (probably true) rumours surrounding him, there’s a few stragglers who genuinely want him. And you genuinely want those people to seek help because it’s clear something went wrong in their lives for them to be thirsting over a man who looks like he eats cigarettes for breakfast. ✧ He comes in late, as you expect, but you freeze as he places his bag down next to you. Aghast, you can’t help but stare; yet for once he’s not meeting your eyes, and it’s far too late to make a scene and move elsewhere—not when the professor’s just arrived and is keen to start the lecture for materials. He doesn’t talk much, but you’re so distracted by his presence pressing slightly into your sides that you forget that today the professor’s deciding on the pairs for your projects—mouth agape, you stare in shock as she assigns them based on who’s sitting nearby. To be generous, she says, yet there’s nothing generous about this arrangement as his mocking eyes meet yours. He knew, you seethe, storming out of the hall right as the class wraps up.

“I hate him.” Your molars grind bone-against-bone as you harshly press angry chords into the fretboard. “I hate him so so so so much.”

“Who are you talking about?” March 7th—in charge of the synthesiser—glances first at the bassist to your side, then back at you. Her eyes are wide in sympathy, yet it’s useless in the face of your despair.

“Blade.” Poetically, the word is accompanied by the deep twang of Smoke on the Water as your fingers move mindlessly on your precious baby. What, your roommate?—she queries. No, a pet fish—Caelus responds, but you tune them both out.

“He knew the professor would assign groups like that,” you groan. “That’s why he sat next to me.”

“He’s definitely trying to get you to leave his apartment out of your own will,” Dan Heng’s smooth cadence is somewhat soothing—and his conjecture is one you’ve come to yourself—but the accompanying baseline he’s playing to the song makes his theory sound comical. “But he won’t screw up his own project like that.”

You sigh, and the melody falls apart as you bring it to a grinding halt.

“Believe me, I know just how much he values his projects.” Your head throbs upon thinking about that poor girl sobbing, and the bassist coughs to stifle a laugh.

“What did he say that one time? ‘Your vapid idea would be better used on death row than as a functioning building’,” Stelle—the vocalist and also the only Psychology major you know who doesn’t unnervingly stare at you—imitates the deep reverberations of his voice, and you’re astonished at how it’s recalled verbatim (down to the exact adjective).

“I’m surprised it got round that far,” you suppress a smile—after all, it’ll be your head on the chopping block next. “You should’ve gone into theatre like Caelus did.”

What a waste of talent, you shake your head mock-ruefully, which quickly turns to true woe as you realise just the predicament you’re in.

✧ It’s not a complicated assignment. Well, it shouldn’t be: designing a sound structure based on the whims of the architectural class (whom you loathe); except that Blade is notorious for being a severe critic for civil engineering partnerships—like seriously, out of all hills to die on and it’s civil engineering. You begrudgingly create a new contact for him in your phone; a digital space just for him, which almost makes you throw up at the thought.

(+2 unread messages) <Dickhead> (new contact) 10:11 > library. 10:11 > east block, 20 minutes.

You stare incredulously at the chat, which is neither phrased as a question nor a request but an encrypted demand. The fuck? Infuriated, you take the break between your reps now rather than later, swilling down water while you irritably type out a reply.

No can do. < 10:15 I’m busy. < 10:16

The reply comes less than a minute later; three dots animating themselves into existence while you wipe the sweat off your face with a towel. This prick. Well, it’s not so much a reply as an acknowledgement of your words—because he doesn’t reply, but rather your phone starts buzzing and you fumble while looking at the expletive lit up brightly on the screen.

You’re sorely, sorely tempted to press the red receiver on the device.

“What do you want?” you scowl, and you hope it translates through your voice that you’re revolted by his mere radio presence.

“Where are you?” He ignores your question; voice vibrating low through your headphones, and you can’t help but shiver, just a little. Even through the thick towel, you can still feel crescents being formed in your palm from your nails—you sincerely wish you were throttling him instead.

“None of your business.”

There’s a budding migraine blossoming to life in your temple as you finally hang up. You think that’s the end of it—after all, it was literally yesterday that the groups were assigned.

But when you shoulder the gym door open—skin still damp and warm from your shower, clean clothes sticking ever so slightly to laved skin—there’s a sleek car parked outside, and you frown when Blade opens the driver’s door.

“I’m going to report you for stalking,” you grit out, pressing your body to the cool glass of the building. “How the fuck did you know where I was?”

“Kafka,” he replies simply, and of course, that crazy woman was the one who viewed your private story and sent it to him. “I’m picking you up.”

“No you’re not.” Seriously, he thinks you’re that easy to convince—

“I’ll shut the fuck up with the drums for these two weeks.”

It’s almost miraculous how quickly you slide into the passenger seat.

✧ You’ve never been in such close proximity to him before (if you don’t count that day in the kitchen). At least, voluntarily. When you close your eyes and lean back against the headrest, you can smell the faint, woody scent of his cologne. It’s different from the putrid tide of Axe the average engineering student drowns themself in—rather, it’s got the deep undertone of oud and something sweeter. You don’t expect it; maybe if he smelled like first impressions, he’d stink of blood and a dumpster fire. ✧ Don’t fall asleep—he remarks, and you can feel his eyes on you briefly. Eyes on the road, prick—you retort, but your own lids are still tightly shut. Therefore, you don’t see how his gaze traces the remaining water droplets from your shower: how his hands linger on his gear stick so he can feel the emanating warmth from your damp thigh. ✧ He freezes. Gross. He doesn’t like anyone, and only tolerates the rest of the Stellaron Hunters since they’ve seen him at his lowest and yet still find ways to bug him. And you. He wasn’t expecting you to last as long as you have. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to irritate him in your own way, and actually manage to aggravate him enough to force him into soundproofing his room. Actually, he still doesn’t know why you did that. He doesn’t know why his heart picked up slightly at the sight of you in that soaked shirt. And in the end, he still doesn’t entirely know why he chose to sit next to you for that lecture instead. It’s to annoy you, he decides. No point in deliberating too much about it. ✧ It’s surprising that the two of you don’t immediately argue over the project; some eco-facility for sports that surprisingly was chosen unanimously by the pair of you. Eyes flitting to each other and back, it was a miracle you both had the same idea somehow. And it’s surprising when despite your lack of experience in civil engineering like this (you usually opt for mechanical on projects like these), you carefully consider the missing parts in his outlines—security cameras, sound systems, and tiny edits to the structure to really amplify the architecture. ✧ He doesn’t mind your presence. That’s what shocks him. As you doze off with your head pressed into the crooks of your elbows, he doesn’t reprimand you like he would with anyone else. Instead, he places the material reference guide down and stops considering cement foundations. Before he gets the chance to poke your forehead, your phone buzzes against the table—lighting up with a name he didn’t think he’d see. ✧ Dan Heng. He knows you’re friends with the guy, but there’s a burning sensation as his eyes watch the pop-up turn into another message, then another. What does he want? In real time, there’s a particular irritation that blossoms with each new notification.

<Dan Heng> 20:19 > Are you still up? 20:19 > My roommate’s going to move in with his girlfriend, so you’ll be able to…

The message is cut off, but Blade isn’t stupid. He knows exactly what the implication suggests, and there’s a certain coolness in his eyes as he stares the message down. Isn’t this what he wanted? Yes, this is precisely the ending he hoped for: you moving out and him getting his space back to himself.

But the issue stems from Dan Heng. He can’t have that. He can’t have you moving in with that man of all people. Anyone else would be fine, he insists to himself.

Dan Heng. Dan Heng. Dan Heng.

There’s a certain hypothesis he’d like to test. With your guard down like this, he snaps a photo of you with the drool leaking onto your sleeve—sending it directly to you. Just like clockwork, your phone lights up once more with a message. It’s not ‘Blade’ that’s texting you.

<Dickhead> 20:20 > [photo.jpeg attached]

He grits his teeth, clutching his textbook until his fingers ache from the strain. No, he won’t give that bastard the satisfaction of taking his roommate like this.

He’ll play nice. When you find someone who works this efficiently with you, while managing to hold their ground under his intimidating gaze, it’s hard not to want them to not scurry away.

Eat shit, Dan Heng.

✧ Somehow, mercifully, you manage to complete the project with that weirdo. It’s strange—he’s surprisingly more cordial than ever. And with his inky hair pulled into a loose bun, glasses perched on his straight nose—it’s hard to imagine he’d ever made that poor girl cry in front of everyone like that, but you’d witnessed it yourself. So with a sigh, you remind yourself that he’s just as much of an asshole as the rumours say. But, staring at him so relaxed like this, these two different Blades are hard to ever merge.

“Something on my face?” He’s still writing with his glasses sliding down his nose. He sounds irritated, as per usual, but the tiny smirk painting his face lets you know that no he’s not irritated, he’s just being an arse just as always.

“Yeah, pen,” you mutter, looking away as he finally glances up at you. When you glance back at the desk where your laptop precariously shows the still-unfinished presentation slides, he’s gazing up at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes.

It almost puts to rest the image of a dickhead.

“There’s no pen, though,” he purrs, voice low while he rests the manual back on the table. “I’ve been reading all morning.”

Nevermind—he’s as much of an asshole as he regularly is.

“Who knows,” you comment offhandedly, slowly sliding a blue biro your way as soon as he looks back down. There—you attempt to inch forward to draw on his face, but he catches your wrist from across the table between you.

You freeze. Shit, you screwed up. With how relaxed he is, it’s getting easier and easier to forget the rumours of his bruised knuckles that follow him like a shroud. His eyes glance coolly at you, then at the incriminating weapon within your fingers.

“What are you doing?” Maybe he’s the questions first, beat up later kind.

“Getting revenge.” Shameless, you think, but definitely not as shameless as getting told to effectively shut up with the drums yet having the audacity to keep going louder.

His lips part, and your eyes nearly stray to the pink colour of them. Then, he smiles—something so cynical and disturbing you can’t help but shiver and twist your arm out of his hold, all so you can watch him askance.

“I can see why people find you scary,” you shudder, tapping your biro on a square notepad.

“And you don’t?” An innocuous question, but one that almost sounds accusatory.

“Nah,” you make a disgusted noise, like you’re trying to suppress vomit. “You’re just a prick.”

In the end, that same prick ends up rolling his sleeves upon your request so you can litter blue ink upon his forearms. With how pale he is, it resembles delicate ceramics painted with cerulean landscapes. And while you do include etched illustrations and swirling designs, you make sure to include several phalluses dotted around—just so he lives up to his contact name.

“Wow,” he remarks sardonically. “Maybe you should quit physics and join the liberal arts programme.”

You ignore him, taking a few shots of your handiwork and sending them to Kafka, captioned I feel like this truly reflects his personality and making sure all the tiny dicks are in full focus.

“Maybe I should,” you shrug. “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with you, at least.”

“Likewise,” he responds, but it’s not as satisfying to think about you quitting as he thought it would be.

It’s stupid. He finds that he doesn’t want the ink to wash from his arms, not so soon.

When you log into your account to touch-up the presentation, you spot the comment he left back in the library on the presentation slides—timestamped to the exact twenty past five.

17:20 > Maybe if you stopped staring at me, we’d be done sooner.

It’s the longest sentence he’s ever typed out to you—but that’s exactly what makes it so galling.

go fuck yourself < 22:31

22:31 > ooh you want me so bad aha

You pause, staring incredulously at the text, then to where the bathroom’s situated. The water’s definitely running.

… < 22:32 damn this idiot’s really getting scammed and hacked < 22:33 crazy < 22:33 [feynman’s twin] sent laughing emoji < 22:33

22:33 > on the daily lmao 22:34 > same two old man passwords for everything

Types like one too < 22:34

22:35 > right?? 22:36 > we should be friends btw 22:36 > [Blade.] sent contact silver-W

Dang he really put a period after than name too < 22:37

22:37 > top ten edgelords 22:37 > [Blade.] sent laughing emoji

[feynman’s twin] sent laughing emoji < 22:37

It’s not until the morning when he’s looking over the (surprisingly well-done) slides that he finally notices the string of (highly unprofessional) messages that he definitely did not write.

His head throbs and his eye twitches as he reads through them—burning holes through the wall separating him and you. He hopes you receive the subliminal nightmares he’s so graciously sending you.

It’s a fiercely deliberated decision. With a heavy heart, he finally presses [backspace] on the typo next to his nickname.

He only hopes you won’t notice.

(Silver Wolf notices—immediately screenshotting the new handle [Blade] and sending it to you.)

✧ Good things come in threes. Getting through this project, not getting beat up by that nerd, and getting through the presentation smoothly. By that, you mean you do most of the speaking while Blade clicks through the slides. However, contrary to all expectations, his voice comes low and rich—neither stumbling through the knowledge nor forgetting the important parts. It’s so shocking you can’t help but stare at him; something he definitely notices, judging by the self-important smirk he sends you. ✧ Perhaps a little too good. The pair of you leave the lecture hall separately—after all, it’s not like you want to be in his presence any longer, and he doesn’t particularly want to be in yours either. But you do want the sweet energy drink that’s been chilling in the shared fridge for the past few days: as tantalising as the very nectar of the gods. ✧ It’s when you enter an alleyway shortcut that you witness her—your old roommate. Vaguely, you recall she used to have a crush on Blade (a match made in heaven if there ever was one); perhaps that’s why she’s inching towards you with a pipe that is tetanus’ wet dream—so grimy you think you’ll immediately die if you’re struck by it. ✧ All this over him?—you think with disgust as you try back out of the alleyway, only to collide with the towering body of her boyfriend: some guy unfortunate enough to be entrapped by her pretty face and definitely not her personality. She doesn’t want you, and he (aforementioned: Blade) doesn’t want her either. It’s rather tragic, but woefully you can’t spare any pity for them: not when you’re about to get beat and for what? A successful presentation with Blade? ✧ They’re amateurish enough that you manage to evade them for a minute, but the alleyway’s too narrow to slip past them, and you’ve never been in a fight like this. ✧ You’re cornered when he appears: some twisted knight he is.

“You’re late,” you heave, bruises on your knuckles and that man’s face.

“You…” Blade trails off as he sees the blood spatters on your clothes, and his expression twists into one he’s glad you can’t see—not when his broad shoulders face you in an impenetrable wall. The two idiots—Tweedledee and Tweedledum, judging by how disturbingly gullible they are—stiffen immediately upon his timely arrival.

He’ll handle it like he always does.

But it’s certainly strange. Why does he feel so much angrier than he does normally?

✧ It’s late afternoon: dusk barely kissing the rooftops of the city, stars just about peeking from the violet firmament. You didn’t ask questions when he made enough space for you to slip out the alleyway: heart lodged in your throat as you quietly sat down at the local café with blossoming pain in your ribs and fists. Stupid, you were stupid to think that crazed girl would ever leave you alone. ✧ Maybe it’s counterintuitive to feel safe when he steps into the small building. He smells faintly of blood: a terrible, metallic odour spilling onto his clothes and flesh. But beneath that, there’s a lingering scent of that woody oud—you can’t help but sink into it. ✧ They won’t bother you ever again—he murmurs as the door jingles behind both of you. You didn’t kill them, did you?—you mutter back, half-sarcastically. No, but it probably hurt quite a bit for them—he shrugs. “Let’s go home.” ✧ Home. He says that, but there’s still that offer from Dan Heng to move in with him—one you’ll probably accept. Blade may have saved you, but he’s still a dickhead who has made numerous attempts to kick you out.

“Ow, fuck,” you hiss as he dabs antiseptic on the various cuts on your hand. It’s well into the evening now, and you’re currently sitting on the bathroom counter with your injuries on full display.

So infuriating. You glare at the man standing in between your legs—unscathed completely. Worst of all, there’s a smug smile on his lips; whatever worry he might have had over you has completely dissipated.

“You couldn’t let them hit you once?”

“Bitter much?” he returns easily, swabbing another cotton ball with alcohol and pressing it against the large cut on the side of your forearm. It stings, but you grit your teeth and bear it—much too annoyed with him to show any more pain.

In this position, the resentment you feel towards him turns faint; a veil seems to obscure the burning sensation.

“You talk too much,” you seethe. “What happened to the prick who kept his mouth shut and ignored me?”

Tendrils of his jet-hued hair brush your cheek as he inches forward. “If you like, we can go right back to that—playing at my whim included.”

He hasn’t felt like this in years—back when he was still a boy named Yingxing and unmarred by the burdens life would eventually place on his shoulders.

“Let me do it myself,” you argue back.

“Nah.” Silver Wolf will pay for calling him an old man. “You won’t do it properly.”

Another brief kiss from the alcohol against your bloody knuckles, and this time you can’t hide the slight wince on your face. It takes quite a lot of self-restraint to not dent the tweezers—he should’ve done so much worse to the two who tried this, besides beating the shit out of them and getting Kafka to land them behind bars.

“That rod probably had tetanus on it,” he shrugs, rummaging around in his disused first-aid kit for plasters and bandages.

“Yeah, I thought that too,” you shudder. It's this moment of casual, same line thinking that strikes you as being far too strange. He's so close you can feel each puff of air when he exhales: practically scalding the bare skin stretched over collarbones. Too close—and if he keeps talking like this, as if he’s no longer disgusted by your presence, you won’t be able to deal with it.

“What’d you do to her?” he questions, but it’s not the ‘no wonder she attacked you’ tone—rather than that, it’s like he’s trying to prompt you into distraction.

“This is actually your fault,” you scowl, irritably casting your mind back to when she used to talk your ear off about the man standing here.

“How so?” Nonplussed, he starts rolling the bandage across your arm—evidently, he’s experienced with this sort of thing.

Stalker roommate. Stalker roommate has crush on engineering maniac. Stalker roommate sees that your new roommate and engineering maniac are one and the same—you summarise, too tired to give the specifics. He sees the way your lids flutter closed from exhaustion; for once, he’ll use Kafka to get more of the information you omitted.

“Honestly, you two freaks would be perfect for each other,” you murmur absentmindedly. At that, he pulls the bandage tighter against your skin and you draw in a pained inhale.

“You should try stand-up.” His voice is thick with revulsion, and it’s quiet for a few brief moments as he gets started on patching up the scrapes left on your back. You’re sitting on a stool now: unable to see his face but awfully mindful of how his hands brush over the skin layered over your scapula.

“You still haven’t thanked me.”

“Thank you, my aggravating saviour,” you say, much too insincerely. “But that reminds me that I’ve got good news for you. That should suffice as a symbol of my gratitude.”

What is it?

“One of my friends has a room free, so I’ll probably be able to move out soon.”

The worst part is, he knows exactly who this friend is. His hands freeze on the band-aid he’s smoothing on your skin; too absorbed in his murderous thoughts to notice how you stiffen at the prolonged gesture. He’s not jealous; these are merely stirrings of friendship—this ugly, amorphous thing writhing in his gut and condemning him to senseless anger.

“That’s not good news,” he breathes, and it’s a little too quiet as he finishes wrapping the final bandage around your bruised ribs.

For the first time ever, Kafka receives a text from Blade that doesn’t consist of just one word.

<Bladie> 20:33 > I need advice.

Oh, this is interesting.

What are friends for?—she coos, making sure to show Silver Wolf the glaring achievement in Blade’s range of text vocabulary.

He’s clearly been on the rear end of bad news; while for her, on the contrary, this just means her scheme is moving along very nicely.

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 years ago

Note

Does aeon of dreams reader has emanators? I think someone inspired by the sandman myth would be pretty cool

AEON OF DREAMS! READER HEADCANNONS

Yes! Their worshippers in general are called Dreamers or Those that Enter the Majesty’s Domain.

Their missionaries/emanators are called Sleepwalkers. Their churches are called Chambers/Domains of Fantasies and the main one is named after their resting place “The Cradle”

Note: It’s important to distinguish between the Sleepwalkers that are completely loyal to Aeon of Dreams! Reader alone and their eternal sleep, to those that believe they should be awoken and also believe in Nanook.

There are also the extremists that force other people into perma sleep called the Heralds of the Sleeping Death. Similar to the Sandman myth but imagine an army of people throwing dust that instantly puts you into a siesta . . . except that early afternoon of yours lasts for an eternity.

There are also like - whole ass denominations that are all just based on a ship with another Aeon.

Yaoshi x Reader ? That’s the Abundant Trance / Trance in Abundance denomination that aside from vehemently shipping the two believe that sleep is the best medicine.

Qilipoth x Reader ? The Preservation of the Fantasy denomination . They believe in cryogenesis to preserve one’s sleeping state to forever dream.

IX x Reader? You think that real life is worthless and just want to sleep forever and indulge the dreams you can actually control? Join the club kid. It’s called the Void in Reality, Infinity in Dormancy.

and ofc Nanook x Reader. Sleepwalkers turned Anti Sleep Legion turned Anti Matter Legion. There are pretty chill ones that just don’t like sleep at all and are interested in ways to keep themselves awake as much as possible. But most of them believe that sleep is a cage they need to help other people to be liberated from.

And those aren’t even the extreme members that are all like “cool imma destroy everything and myself so that my two gods can live happily ever after. im gonna sleep eternally in the afterlife anyways. byeee-“

if people are interested ill edit in all the denominations based on ships lol but for now have those (im specifically hoping to write the erudition/hunt x reader denominations cause those would be interesting imo)

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

#yandere #honkai star rail #hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere x reader #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere nanook x reader #yandere aeons x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere headcannons #yandere oc #nanook x reader #yaoshi x reader

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mistyacorn · 2 years ago

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you remind me of the main protagonist

sypnosis; dan heng and his odd way of saying “hey, i think i like you”

pairing(s); dan heng + fem! reader ⟿ featuring; pure fluff, really blank and super indirect dan heng, reader is compared to a female character (hence, fem! reader)

a/n; this was such a random write lol. im so sorry that it’s a bit of a mess, im still working on more clear storylines heheh . i hope it’s still enjoyable! ૮(ㅅ´ ˘ `) ♡ also i made beauty and the beast a canon fairytale here pffft u neva know

⇢ DAN HENG is the type that literally nobody expects to like anybody, and therefore neither do you.

⇢ you’d probably even think that he dislikes you because whenever it’s just the two of you he never says a word. he’s dead silent. he only ever nods or gestures and barely looks you in the eye.

⇢ occasionally you’d get slightly jealous of how he speaks whenever march is with you guys (even though they always end up fighting verbally, it’s still talking!)

⇢ so you eventually take it as a ‘hint’ and try your best to move on.

⇢ though let’s be real, it’s not easy to move on from a crush if you see him almost everyday. especially when he has the most perfect emerald eyes and soft black hair….

⇢ one day, you’re in your room on the astral express and you’ve just finished the book you had borrowed from the express library recently.

⇢ you did borrow it without telling anyone though, so it kinda felt like you stole it haha…

⇢ but you definitely did not want to annoy dan heng with your request so stealing borrowing seemed like the best option.

⇢ you decide to head over to his room, hoping to secretly drop the book and go.

⇢ thankfully the boy is not in the room when you get there (which is super rare, go you!). you tiptoe as carefully as you can towards the bookshelf.

⇢ you quickly find the correct slot and insert the book.

⇢ just as you think you’ve accomplished your mission, you turn around and-

⇢ at the door stands dan heng, staring at you nonchalantly (as per usual). “hi.”

⇢ his sudden appearance immediately causes you to begin a five minute long explanation about how you got there. (yes, five minutes. idk how but you drag it on and on) its mostly bullshit you’re spitting out.

⇢ “…pom pom told me that there was this super cool book…. I just had to read it of course …..and it was really cool yeah yeah ….um about robots and science and…stuff….”

⇢ does pom pom even read?? you didn’t know!

⇢ and you definitely don’t notice amidst your frantic stories, but dan heng listens to you attentively in amusement. he actually has the smallest grin on his face, very well knowing you are making everything up.

⇢ to put it simply, he finds it endearing. he’s almost in a trance, just listening to you talk and talk and talk…

⇢ after you finish your story time, he snaps out of it quick enough for you to not notice anything.

⇢ and you bow repeatedly in embarrassment before dashing out of the room.

⇢ the following day, dan heng suddenly gives you a book out of nowhere. today, his signature cold face seems slightly nervous instead, but you don’t pay attention.

⇢ you see that the book is a fairytale, one that is right up your alley!

⇢ ‘Beauty and the Beast’.

⇢ you open the book to see a post-it note on the first page, with neat handwriting on it;

‘y/n, I saw you liked fairytales and the fantasy genre. I do not. But I stumbled across this book yesterday, and I remember reading the first three chapters sometime when I was younger. It seems like something you’ll like. The main protagonist reminds me of you. I hope you’ll like it.’

⇢ your face is red hot as you read his note. he wrote to you. he thinks of you. he said you reminded him of a princess. (what the fvck.)

⇢ and secretly behind the scenes, dan heng is not as calm and collected as he seems.

⇢ after you put away the book and left that day, he took note of the book you had returned. fairytale…fantasy…

⇢ dan heng immediately started to think hard about any fantasy books he had read in his life. hours and hours of struggling later (he never reads fantasy, it’s too unrealistic for him), he finally remembers one.

⇢ he’d read the first few chapters of it before, and he remembers the main character all too clearly. she reminded him so much of you, yet he didn’t know why.

⇢ (truthfully, it was definitely because she was his first ever fictional crush. and now you were…… but he was never going to admit that to himself.)

⇢ he spends his night searching around the archives. 2am the next morning, he finds it.

⇢ dan heng goes to bed that night, heart thumping faster than usual, because now he realises just how much he likes you.

#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) —mistyacorn’s #danheng x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #dan heng hsr #hsr dan heng #hsr fanfic #dan heng headcannon #danheng #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #danheng x y/n #dan heng x y/n

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roseslost · 9 months ago

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Okay, but what if the Avgins had their own native language and Dr Ratio (or whoever you ship Aventurine with) learned it one day for one reason or another?? Then, Aventurine, happy that he found somebody he can talk with in his native language, started teaching Ratio random slang that wouldn't be in textbooks. By the end of it they have their little secret language that they can use to exchange intel on mission. Maybe Ratio teaches Aventurine Latin too.

#honkai star rail #dr ratio #ratiorine #hsr aventurine #raturine #aventio #headcannons #i think i am going insane because of these two somebody please send help #idk thinking about raturine talking shit abt someone in another language makes my heart do weird things #let these two pompous bastards experience soft things

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yorutsuki · 8 months ago

Note

You're cooked. Now write boothill.

「 ✦ Metal Tension ✦ 」

↳ Boothill, an optimistic and unrestrained cowboy—a galaxy ranger just so happens to be looking for a specific emanator though runs into you. Unfortunately, tension forms quickly.

[ gender neutral reader; they/them ]

Tags:

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

Light clangs and clunks echoed softly around the grounds of Penacony. His hair swaying lightly behind him along with his cape—while his metal body reflected the bright lights of the city.

"The Dreamscape..." Boothill breathed, taking in the sights of the bubbly, lit scenery.

The cowboy was drawn into Penacony in search for a specific emanator roaming about. He heard, from a memokeeper, that she would be found traveling besides an Astral Express crew. Hence, that would be his first step; to track them down.

It wasn't hard to track the group down, considering their popularity throughout the scape. With a few conversations with the residences and locals, he easy found one of the passengers—you.

Currently you were seated in a bar, a glass of paper moon near you while you skimmed through your phone.

Your head perked up as you heard a low rasped chuckle near you.

"You must be the famous {Y/n}?" He spoke, a light sly smile plastering his lips. "May I sit?" He asked, signaling to the seat next to you.

Your expression showed confusion but nonetheless you nodded both to the question and request, signaling a 'go ahead'. "Yep, that's me. Do you need something?" You sighed, popping the 'p' before taking a sip of your drink.

The ranger hummed, "a paper moon? That's a hell of a drink, isn't it?" He raised his brow, ignoring your question.

You nodded, setting down your glass. "A chaotic and busy week." You huffed, recalling the events you endured recently—still feeling some bruising from some of them.

The galaxy cowboy ranger nodded in acknowledgement, setting his arms, crossed on the table. You glanced over to him skeptically. "Well then, I told you my name, I think it's only right you introduce yourself." You spoke, taking another sip.

"Eager huh? Names' Boothill." He smirked, placing his head to one of his palms.

"Well then, Boothill, what are you exactly here for?" You asked once again, sighing—not wanting to beat around the bush. You knew the man wasn't here just for a idle chat.

You heard the cyborg chuckle at your straightforwardness, "Observant. Well, i'm here looking for a emanator who goes by the name, Acheron."

You furrowed your brows, "why?" You questioned.

if you weren't beating around the bush, then it should be an even playing field, no?

Boothill's sly smirk turned into a light smile of menace. "To eliminate her."

You hummed in thought before gulping down the rest of your drink, grabbing your phone and leaving the bar.

Boothill frowned for a moment though his signature smirk appeared once more before he himself stood up, trailing after you.

"I don't think you know what your dealing with." He spoke, shaking his head. You however, were pretty sure you knew the risks of Acheron tagging along. "I-the crew has seen her potential power already, as well as her persona in general. Maybe not at the fullest but it's safe to say we know enough to trust her currently." You answered, recalling the information that the crew and her had exchanged during the time together.

"-though that can't be said for you." You halted with you movement, glancing towards him with furrowed brows. Boothill raised a brow, his eyes glancing over to you as well, his expression plastering the same amused expression.

"Look here darlin', i'm here for one objective. I'm not here to make enemies with the express—that would be meaningless and a waste of both sides' time." He hummed. "So if you could just give me even a slight clue of where the emanator is, i'll be on my way." He shrugged, resting a hand on his hip.

You shook your head lightly, "I can't, I don't know where she is. She pops in and out—here and there at times." You informed, crossing your arms, replicating his sass. "Besides, I believe your the one who hasn't a clue what they're dealing with." You glared at him.

Boothill returned the glare, though before any words could be uttered, a sudden wave of fire split the tension as both of you were quick to dodge it.

Looking to your side, you were faced with a Dreamjolt gorilla and overcooked, along with some other low enemies.

You grit your teeth while the ranger's smirk only grew wider at the new challenge. Though before he could even process, you were already taking action—taking swift and agile turns, aiming and destroying the mechanics' weak spots to which they crumbled into ash upon.

Within under a minute, the enemies were nothing but ash in the wind.

You had returned back to your spot like nothing happened, only a few breathes here and there. You looked towards the man, a brow raised as you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move. "You need something?"

The galaxy ranger looked away, almost in thought. "Those moves...they're familiar.." He stated, looking to the ground before glancing back at you. "Where did you learn them?"

Your eyes turned soft only for a second as you grinned slightly. "The emanator. She was kind enough to lend me some tips." You smirked but quickly replaced it was a neutral face.

Boothill's gaze went surprised only for a split second before turning into a sly cocky look. "Well, would ya look at that. Y'know Acheron doesn't just teach anyone her knowledge." He smirked before leaning near your ear. "You must be a pretty special thing then." He laughed before retreating back.

Your words got caught in your throat. You knew it was a teasing comment but thats what stunt you.

You mumbled something inaudible before your phone pinged. "Oh? Is that the rest of your crew?" He chuckled, peeking over towards your screen. You glanced towards him and back, nodding.

A few moments passed before your phone vanished into your inventory, specks of dust in place of it's disappearance. With a huff, you look towards the metal man, "well, i'm guessing we'll be seeing each other around, unfortunately." You shook your head much to your dismay.

Boothill smirked, "Of coarse. I look forward to our next run in—and how knows?" He shrugged, leaning forward, "maybe you can teach me some of those tricks, eh?"

You give a grimaced smile, "keep dreaming. This is the dreamscape after all." With that you waved a flimsy 'cya' before leaving.

Though if you stayed just a bit longer, you would've seen the cowboy ranger's cheeks tinted with a pink hue as he let out a airy laugh. "till we cross paths again."

A/N: I barely know about Boothill than whats already present. Hence, I apologize if its short and out of character TxT.

(I have no clue for a title)

[Random] While writing this, I read the most well executed, tear making, well written, heart warming, angsty af fanfic of a Michealangelo x reader (TMNT), I highly reccomend checking it out if you like TMNT-specifically mikey and angst :)

"Hearts Over Head (Michealangelo x Reader Fanfiction)" - Sophfandoms53

#x reader #scenerios #oneshot #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x y/n #headcannons

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etheries1015 · 2 years ago

Text

Jing Yuan x reader - Yangqings first heartbreak

Yanqing looked at you with wide eyes, and a deep blush upon his cheeks his mouth agape. It was...love at first sight, as he put it! Next thing you know both if his hands are clasped over yours, peering excitedly into your eyes.

"Marry me!"

Everyone became eerily quiet, suddenly staring at you until it was broken by a snicker from behind the boy.

"Yangqing?" The general let out a deep chuckle, "You can't-"

"You don't understand, general! The second I set eyes upon (y/n) I just knew they had to be the one!"

"Uhh...." You trailed off, before bursting out laughing with your hand shooting up to your forehead with an exasperated shake of your head out of embarrassment.

"Yangqing, as much as I'm flattered at your declaration of love, I'm afraid you're far too young for me. And I am currently enamored with someone else at the moment." You chuckle, your hand patting the now broken hearted boys shoulder as comforting as you can be. His posture slumped and you can visibly see his disappointment before he suddenly straightened out, looking into your eyes with new found determination.

"Well....who is this person you're so infatuated with? Then they shall become my competition!"

You sighed slightly, apparently he decided to ignore your comment about how he was far too young for you, and continued on with reckless abandon. You gave him wry smile with a tilt of your head before pointing directly behind him, Yangqing turning around with enthusiasm. Jing Yuan raised an amused eyebrow whilst his pupil let out an exaggerated, "Whattt???! No way! You like the GENERAL?!"

Jing yuan let out a hearty laugh before patting yangqings back playfully, looking back at you with a glint of amusement and...something else, you suspected.

"You're quite the brave one, aren't you? I like it." He hummed. With a whining yangqing following behind him, Jing Yuan walked past you, allowing his arm to brush gently against your own with a side glance and a smirk that made your heart skip a beat. He stopped momentarily before leaning down to whisper in your ear, hand upon your shoulder;

"You have my attention, (y/n)"

Yeah. He definitely did that on purpose.

~ End

Alternative ending:

"Sorry yangqing, I like your dad"

check out my master list!

#jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #yangqing #yangqing star rail #star rail x reader #star rail #star rail headcannons #jing yuan star rail #hsr x you #hsr jing yuan

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scribbless-n-stuff · 2 months ago

Text

Volume II: Headcanons/Imagines - Dan Heng IL

Characters

Dan Heng [IL or not]

Warnings/Info

Fluff

Slight comfort??

GN reader [all my fanfictions are like this]

Author’s Notes

I think I’ve gotten used to writing down my fake scenarios and actually posting them . I’ve only released like 2 works [this is the 3rd one] and I already reached 100+ likes UIAHJAUSJDADSG thanks guys :3!!

I’m actually going absolute batshit crazy over Dan Heng and Boothill specifically at this point. I’M NOT EVEN IN PENACONY YET

PDA (Public Display of Affection)

not that he’d want to keep your relationship a secret, but he def wouldn’t be that big on PDA

but he’d always be beside you

at most, would be holding your hand

BUT if you were to be in any danger, he’d pull you closer to him by the waiSTAHAHUAHHAJSGHASD cough ahem IM NOT CRAZY HOLY SHIT

Specifically How They’d Hold Your Hand

I thought of you two like intertwining pinkies, but I think of him as the type of guy who prefers more “secure” type of hand holding??

he would prefer intertwining all of your fingers because it feels tight and secure, and it reassures him nheehheehhehe

his grip on your hand would be so tight bro [me too]

How They Like To Sleep With You

I looove imagining him as the big spoon :3 plus points if he’s taller than you

or you’re sprawled out on top of him . I think he’d like your weight on him. [maybe I’m just projecting because I absolutely love physical touch]

Random thing I wanna sneak in, but I think of him as a thigh person. He’d hold you by the thighs as your hands would be around his torso/neck

Matching Trinkets/Stuff

The first thing that came to mind tbh were bracelets or silly rings

But like hear me out: matching phone bracelest/straps. and the beads/charms used in the straps would go like:

half of the beads: designs/colors that represent him

other half of the beads: designs/colors that represent you

I mainly js thought of this because like his phonecase in-game is literally just so plain so like. man, give it a little bling

When You Get Sick

Won’t go out on missions until you’re better

But if he’s really reaally needed on a mission and is forced to go, he would constantly text/call you or anyone who’s left on the Express with you

and after the mission, he’d bring you back gifts/small stuffs he found throughout the adventure :3

Song/s They’d Dedicate To You

You’re The Only Good Thing In My Life by Cigarettes After Sex

“Everything is wrong, but it’s alright. You’re the only good thing in my life.”

Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex

“It’s so sweet, knowing that you love me. Though we don’t need to say it to each other.”

#fanfics #fanfictions #honkai star rail #x reader #fluff #oneshot #headcanons #my headcanons #headcannon #hcs #dan heng x reader #dan heng #imbibitor lunae #comfort #rest

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vermilionsun · 6 months ago

Note

Cld I request for cuddle hcs for Bladie and argenti… separately or together either is good with me ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Also have a good day (,, . ̫. ,,)

TYSM!! Hope ya have an amazing day as well (づ￣ ³￣)づ

Disclaimer! They/Them & You/Yours for reader

Argenti

aka Mr. Shiny Armour

🏵 Position

Argenti’s favourite cuddle position would be you against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as he nuzzles his face into your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

🏵 His gentle touch and soothing voice lull you into a state of pure B L I S S.

🏵"You always smell so nice." He’d mumble against your forehead before gently kissing it.

🏵 He’d pull his lover even closer to his chest (a̶s̶ i̶f̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶'s̶ p̶o̶s̶s̶i̶b̶l̶e̶), wrapping his arms tighter around them as his lips travelled down from their forehead to their cheek, then the corner of their mouth.

🏵 "I could hold you like this all day." Argenti would whisper softly, his words almost lost against your skin as he continued to pepper his lover's face and neck with soft kisses, pausing on the pulse point of your neck, mouthing the sensitive skin there gently for a moment before he began to nibble and suck on it lightly.

🏵 Pulling away slightly, Argenti would look down at you with a soft smile and gently cup your face in one hand, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek. "I could stare at your face all day too."

🏵 He would lace his fingers with his lover’s, his thumb stroking the back of your hand, a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

🏵 The feeling of being with you was like coming home—comforting, familiar, and safe. Your presence wrapped around him like a warm blanket on a cold night, soothing his anxieties and easing his worries. It was as if all the chaos of the world melted away, leaving only peace and contentment in its wake—a sense of belonging that he never wanted to lose.

🏵 "I knew in that moment that wherever you were, that was where I belonged."

🏵 The moment felt perfect, like time had stopped just for the two of you.

🏵 "I never want to let you go."

Blade

aka the dead star

🗡 A W K W A R D

🗡 He’s so stiff and motionless, it’s funny.

H̶e̶ s̶t̶a̶y̶s̶ s̶t̶i̶l̶l̶, h̶i̶s̶ b̶o̶d̶y̶ r̶i̶g̶i̶d̶, f̶e̶e̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶ p̶o̶i̶n̶t̶ w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ y̶o̶u̶'r̶e̶ t̶o̶u̶c̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ h̶i̶m̶.

🗡 After a while, he pats you on the head, clearly uncomfortable with physical affection. It's like hugging a statue.

🗡 “...It's been over a thousand years since I've had any sort of affection.”

🗡 HOWEVER; If you’re asleep, it’s a whole different story.

🗡 He’d turn his body towards you, propping himself on his side to get a better look at your sleeping face. Blade's eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail. The way your eyelashes flutter against your cheek, the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Your parted lips look so soft, a̶n̶d̶ f̶o̶r̶ a̶ b̶r̶i̶e̶f̶ m̶o̶m̶e̶n̶t̶, h̶e̶ w̶o̶n̶d̶e̶r̶s̶ w̶h̶a̶t̶ i̶t̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ b̶e̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶ t̶o̶ t̶o̶u̶c̶h̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ h̶i̶s̶ o̶w̶n̶.

🗡 H̶e̶ q̶u̶i̶c̶k̶l̶y̶ s̶h̶a̶k̶e̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ h̶i̶s̶ m̶i̶n̶d̶, s̶c̶o̶w̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶t̶ h̶i̶m̶s̶e̶l̶f̶. W̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ h̶e̶l̶l̶ a̶r̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶s̶e̶ t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶s̶ c̶o̶m̶i̶n̶g̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶?̶

🗡 He watches you for a while longer, his gaze a mixture of irritation and... something else. Something he doesn't want to acknowledge, not even to himself.

🗡 His gaze trails down to your hand, laying innocently on the bed. He reaches out, almost unconsciously, and gently brushes his thumb against your knuckles. His hand is so much bigger than yours… It felt... nice. More than nice, if he's being honest.

🗡 He can feel your breath on his neck, your soft hair against his chin. He can smell your scent, something light and refreshing that's slowly intoxicating him. It makes his heart thump loudly in his chest. He's torn between wanting to shove you away and wanting to pull you closer.

🗡 "Damn it all..." he mutters under his breath, gritting his teeth.

🗡 Without thinking, he instinctively wraps one arm around your waist, and buries his face into your hair. W̶h̶a̶t̶ t̶h̶e̶ h̶e̶l̶l̶ i̶s̶ h̶e̶ d̶o̶i̶n̶g̶?̶

🗡 His hand on your waist moves up and down, gently tracing your spine. He curses himself again for this moment of weakness. He should stop, he knows he should, but now that he has you in his arms, he can't bring himself to let go.

Both? Both! Both is good.

🏵 Argenti would lean into you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer with a polite smile, while Blade would lean his head on your other shoulder.

🗡Blade says nothing and just sighs quietly, his eyes looking straight at you as if he's making sure that Argenti will stay in line.

🏵 The moment Argenti would notice Blade's gaze, he’d give a quick glance back at him with a smug smile before he would gently pat and ruffle your head with his free hand, his touch almost tender as he’d whisper in your ear. Deciding to push his luck, he’d lean closer to you, his nose almost touching yours, clearly enjoying the slight irritation of the other.

🗡Blade's eyes twitch at Argenti's behaviour, feeling both annoyed and slightly amused by his audacity.

🏵 Argenti would let out a soft chuckle under his breath, finding it amusing that Blade is showing such an obvious reaction. He’d slowly snake his arm around your waist, pulling you completely against him.

🗡Blade He suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, looking straight at Argenti with a cold glare. “Watch your hands,” he says, his voice calm, but holding back anger. Blade glances over at you for a moment, his expression softening for a split second before quickly returning to his usual cold demeanour.

🏵 Argenti leans back slightly, still watching the other with a smug expression. “Jealous, are we?”

🗡 Blade scowls at him, his eyes narrowing at the expression on the man's face. “Don't get ahead of yourself. It's nothing like that,” he says, his voice sharp.

🏵 Argenti raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then I suppose you wouldn't mind if I did this, would you?” He moves his hand from your head to your thigh, resting it there, almost possessively.

🗡“You really are pushing it…”

🏵 Argenti grins mischievously. With an exaggerated innocence, he responds, his tone dripping with false concern. “Am I? I'm just being friendly, showing a little affection to someone I find endearing.” He moves his hand a little bit higher on your thigh, his touch still gentle. “You really need to learn to lighten up.”

🗡 Blade's patience snaps at Argenti's stubbornness. “Do you have a death wish or something?” His eyes flash with anger as he pulls you just as close.

➢ Safe to say, you ended up sandwiched between two hot big booba men.

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chiara-hotel · 7 months ago

Text

𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓂

Characters: Aventurine, Acheron & Boothill

Part 1 Here: (w/ Blade, Dan Heng, Robin & Jingliu)

Part 3 Here: (w/ Sunday & Black Swan)

Warnings: Possibly penacony spoilers

- Aventurine as your boyfriend is a big treat

- Hes got a lot of money and loves spending it on you

- Every single week he spoils you with a shopping trip, getting all of your favourite items

- Even if you say its okay and he doesn’t need to but it he still does

- His specifically is gift giving

- Although he also loves cuddling and just holding you in general

- Whenever you’re in public together he always has his arm around your waist or around your shoulder

- Visits to the casino together <33

- Considers you his lucky charm whenever he goes with you

- Always kisses his chips to give them to you after hes done using them

- Aventurine also helps you out whenever you play against someone too, you both also occasionally gamble against eachother (if he wins though you owe him 10 kisses)

- Due to his status as a member of the IPC, often times he also must go on long missions

- If he can he always takes you with him, even if its just staying at a hotel for the night with you

- If he can’t he sends you handwritten letters with some gifts he gave you

- You also have met a few members of the IPC (etc.) including Dr Ratio and Topaz (Not Jade or Diamond though… He keeps you away from them)

- As a frequent traveller, you often travel along with her swapping locations every few weeks

- Acheron is a quiet lover, she loves listening to you ramble about things you enjoy as she just listens

- She forgets things often so you might need to repeat some things

- Even with her memory she always remembers you and your intrests, favourite flowers, chocolate, color, anything special relating to you

- Which yes shes a gift lover, gets you flowers whenever you meet up for a date

- Always protects you from danger, her sword is ready to fight off against any enemies that trouble you

- Shes also the type of person if you get extremely injured - she’ll ask for the name. As for what happens to them she’ll never tell you

- Teaches you a bit of self-defence after that just in case

- Boothill is a traveller, constantly moving locations

- He isn’t much of a sightseer but hes willing to stay an extra day if theres somewhere you really want to go

- On that note you follow him to whatever weird world he goes to next! Most of the time you are out of danger and you await in the hotel room while he kills things

- Unless you’re also strong and can hold up a fight then he invites you on the regular and you both challenge eachother to see who can kill the most enemies

- Enjoys duels too and you guys test your strength against eachother

- Besides its good practice for him if you’re as strong as him

- If you’re weaker its best for your sake and also will train you basic combat & self defence techniques

- Treasures you, always holding you even if he can’t feel it

- Loves putting his face by your neck/on your shoulder to feel you

- Boothill adores when you kiss all over his face, he says its even better if you have lipstick on to put all over him

- Steal his hat, he’ll enjoy it

- Of course when he can’t find it he’ll panic until he realizes that you stole it and immediately comments about how hot you are with his hat

- Or if you steal any of his clothing, really

Author Comment: I hope you enjoyed these headcannons! I plan on getting a lot of drafts done within the next few weeks hopefully!

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #boothill x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine x reader #boothill x you #acheron x you #acheron x reader #hsr x reader #boothill #aventurine #acheron #boothill headcanons #aventurine headcanons #acheron headcannons

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leaf-line · 4 months ago

Note

Hello! Can i request some Yandere robin/Kafka and Himeko (seperate) x Gn reader, romantic hcs, please?

𝐒𝐡𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲

Yandere! Robin/Kafka/Himeko x Gn! Reader

❏ You weren't staying away from them because you were 'shy', you have a perfectly good reason to.

cw: ooc, general yandere content.

w/c: 1,557

You were happy with what you have, you were happy with the many people around you, but you liked Robin too.

She was irreplaceable, along with all of the people you love. You cared about everyone.

Robin liked you too! She liked the way you told her not to push herself much and to not pressure herself, the way you were all worried and caring for Robin.

She relishes on your affection for her greatly, no matter how small or big it is, Robin would indulge in your attention.

Even if you give her the smallest affection, then the largest to somebody else, she's... she's... She's fine by it. Totally.

But later, you were suddenly down, refusing to pay attention to her, or anything for the matter, even yourself.

Thus... Robin thinks you need saving.

No, no, why won't you smile like you used to? Did something so bad happen?

Robin is appalled by the way you just won't help yourself or push yourself for the better and move on? Isn't that what you told her to do? Why are you opting to be a flesh rotting in your bed and not getting out of your shell?

She had problems too, she too were hard on herself when her mom died, but she used those experiences to get up and push further, why can't you do the same?

She thought that maybe it was her turn to give her full affection and attention to you instead. In a way to pay you back, yet... You won't allow her.

Robin is just concerned. Why won't you let her pamper you?

Why won't you let her sing songs to you?

Why won't you let her visit you?

How could you even refuse such an angel who's willing to drag you up when you're down?

Maybe you're shy. Perhaps she's way too overbearing for your mental capacity to accept her payback. She's sweet, empathetic, and extremely kind to you, especially you.

Why else would you avoid her other than the reason that you're flustered by her appearance? It's because of that, and that's the only reason.

"Oh... My love... Is there any other reason why you're avoiding me other than you think I'll over shine you? Don't worry, I won't do that. You deserve your own spotlight! I'll look at it, only me... I love you, alright?"

She says, clinging on your waist, holding it down enough for you to be thoroughly uncomfortable inside. She would then brush your hair with her hand as if you were a delicate being she needed to protect from danger.

Even after you have tried to escape her countless times, she still has you in her arms, begging for your attention every second, every minute, every hour. It's scary to know that with the snap of her fingers, all of her devoted fans would turn their heads at you, ready to strike with their pitch forks and torches for not accepting such an angel in your life.

Though... Has she ever stopped and thought that maybe, just maybe, the reason for you avoiding her was because you just figured out that she's the reason that the people you've recently been talking to disappear out of thin air? Even the ones you treasured and cared for?

You didn't find any animal fact that said birds are ruthless when they are jealous. You learned it the hard way.

Robin didn't even give you enough time to grieve for them before clinging on to you now that her 'obstacles' are gone.

She hums a melody. It's as if to comfort you from your loss, it feels mocking.

You found a lady so breathtakingly beautiful it captured your full attention.

You then would ask for her number, maybe start a small chat, heck, even standing next to such beauty would be enough.

If you found Kafka beautiful, then she finds you adorable.

She's curious as to why you would willingly march straight into danger, clueless and unarmed. She might as well give it a shot and try to get to know you better.

This isn't a part of the script. Plus, she finds your face and mentality cute. Is there really no way you don't know anything about her?

Perhaps you don't read the news or you haven't seen her wanted posters in all its glory. Perhaps you knew and are just dipping your hand in with hidden intent. Perhaps you're just dumb. Either way, she'll know soon enough.

Rather than subtly forcing you to outright say who you are, Kafka played the slow—yet fun—game.

You went from conversing, to going on dates, to walking together in the sunset.

And not once has she seen you feel threatened around her, or even show a hint of your plans to capture her. Every last bit of you was adorable as she thought. That surprises her for a bit. However, not for long.

"This gift is handmade, my efforts and results. Accept it, dear." People's fun has to end one way or another

Her voice makes your ears ring, it gives you a headache. As much you want to cover your ears and muffle her sickly sweet voice, you can't. Your hand is trembling. It is too heavy to move, and you already feel bile rising up on your throat.

It was going well. Now you're asking yourself why we're you sitting on the ground, bathing in a puddle of blood.

Huh...? She told you in one of your dates she was going to gift you a big surprise, you weren't expecting a surprise that makes you fall on your knees at the sight in a different way.

Why... Why is this happening?

You get up on your feet and run away as fast as you can, just anyhow to get away from her.

"Don't try to back out now... You're hurting my feelings." Her footsteps were slow, loud, impending.

Tap, tap, tap, tap—

"You wanted to get to know me too, didn't you? Are you not liking what you see? Are you not liking the real me?" She tries to convince you.

Tap, tap, tap—

"Come on, don't be shy, I don't bite, I promise, come out now. You can't hide forever, can you?" She hums, as if to harmonize it with her footsteps.

Tap.

"Found you."

Don't just walk straight into the cobwebs and try to leave so quickly, for the more you struggle to escape, the more you get tangled and stuck in it.

Himeko wanted you join her, to board the Astral Express, telling you all sorts of stuffs about how amazing it would be to travel all across the cosmos.

You were there to support her from the start, she wished the same for the end.

You admired her ambitions and pushed her up to reach it. Himeko wanted you to be with her when she does so.

Himeko loved you dearly, the way you would encourage her on her adventures, the way you'd still swallow the last drop of coffee she made for you even though it's hard to swallow, the way you would hold her hand and tell directly that things will go the way she would want it.

She loved the way you can easily melt her heart with those genuine words and touch.

But when you declined and said that you will only be there to watch her fulfill her dreams. It was difficult to take in, but she wasn't able to press further.

And so she conducts the train without you. Only occasionally visiting your home world, then to leave, for there's more other pressing matters.

But the more she embarks, the more she learns and develop her own mindset.

For Himeko, trailblazing follows an unspoken set of steps to commit. Board the train, build immovable and precious memories, then disembark.

In other words, leave. It's difficult, but Himeko's determination perseveres, no matter how many of her short time companions leave her, she will still traverse the stars.

Himeko is the conductor, the train needs her to move.

But she needs you to move. Right now, she needs to hear your voice, your way of lightening up her day with little to no effort. So things will be alright with her. No matter how lonely it gets, no matter how much difficult it is to preserve these memories, she can still retell those adventures with you.

"Isn't that right? [Name]?" She puts her cup of coffee, gazing at the coffee table, then takes a moment to admire the scenery of the window, showing the stars of the universe at full display along with the planet close enough to visualize, then you.

The couch you were sitting on were the same as where Himeko sits. You felt compelled to move away from her, yet she will only move closer. "Don't be shy, it's just the two of us here. The others are away." She gestures at the window. "If you're worried about PomPom, they're in a different room."

She holds your hand tightly, things will go the way she would want it, not the way you would want.

"Please don't leave me. You wouldn't wanna make me lonely, would you?" She holds your hand closer to her face.

Declining isn't an option anymore.

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