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mikansei · 29 days ago

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from the trailblazer's perspective:

we met some weird guy who wears a statue on his head, who was kind of a dick to us, but then we went on a little entomological field trip where he was oddly encouraging. surprisingly nice to us afterward for all that he literally interrogated us first. but herta runs around as a doll and we're plenty weird ourselves, so dr. ratio is whatever, i guess. we probably think of him as "that weirdo who was on the herta space station once," which is an association i'm sure he'd hate - but hey, at least we don't call him "scholar king."

from the trailblazer's perspective:

we met some flashy IPC guy because we accidentally held him up in line at the hotel check-in, himeko tried to negotiate and it turns out he's a professional cutthroat negotiator, but it all worked out and he gave us his fancy room. he also loomed over us with freaky glowing eyes and maybe threatened us, but it was kinda vague and it's not like he really hurt us. well... until he did. the trailblazer gets the opportunity to be verbally sore about that, but the fight didn't really feel like cocolia, like phantylia; like aventurine had gone mad and wanted to take over and/or destroy the world. his grandstanding didn't make any sense to us at the time, though, and fighting him sucked ass. but we lived and - as we found out eventually - so did he.

then the trailblazer boards the radiant feldspar, and we see aventurine's hologram talking with ...boothill? okay. who explicitly says they're working out some kind of shady underhanded deal to find oswaldo schneider which, subtlety thy name is not boothill, but that's none of our business i guess. but aventurine's there(-ish) and alive and not cackling mad, which is an improvement.

then we go into the next room over and see that herta space station weirdo, dr. ratio.

huh???

and the first thing he says to us is "no wonder that gambler likes you so much."

huh???????

everything about this is news to the trailblazer. since when is dr. ratio not only on penacony, but in the dreamscape, aboard the exclusive invitation-only dream cruise ship? since when does he not only know of aventurine, but was apparently on this mission with him? since when does aventurine like us??? we just got done mutually trying to kill each other! his hologram didn't seem sore about it, which is great for us, but doesn't exactly translate into "like!"

why are we hearing this from him and not aventurine? why does he know aventurine's thoughts on us in the first place?

dr. ratio really just shows up, yaps about aventurine unprompted, recommends us reading material, complains about the crowd and then is like "k i'm done here. ur dismissed."

the trailblazer had bigger things to think about but i, the player, do not. the fandom at large may feel like 2.3 fell flat, but the fall of the roman empire is still within the wheelhouse of my roman empire. i never left the radiant feldspar. i am still aboard this fucking ship.

#do u ever think about how baffling and incongruous these two must look to the trailblazer and go a little insane abt it #they may have woken from their dreams but perhaps i the player am caught in ena's dream being served ratiorine food forever #“then wake to weep?” no. i shall simply sleep 💤#ratio's still on the ship with me too 💗 if i just never accidentally press F near him and screwllum he'll stay here till EOS 💗#sidenote: the trailblazer probably shouldn't have immediately known that ratio's “that gambler” was referring to aventurine specifically #but i'll forgive a peephole thru an otherwise well-constructed 4th wall in the name of gay shipping #hsr meta #hsr #aventurine #ratio #ratiorine #trailblazer #penacony spoilers #also this is NOT what this post was supposed to be about when i started typing it. penacony just Does That to me #merry yaoimas & happy final victor anniversary #the only holidays i celebrate

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averycutesalamander · 30 days ago

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thinking about you and boothill both spending the day together for crimbas... nsft because it gets spicy

He spoils you absolutely rotten with gifts. One of your favorites is the plushie he bought you during one of his trips; it's some alien animal you don't recognize, but it's so incredibly charming that you don't mind. He bought this blanket that's absolutely sinfully soft, and the two of you immediately bundle up together on the couch. You lay across his chest as he rubs circles into your back, and watching movies turns into half-watching movies when you creep upward to kiss him, all slow and tender. He purrs into your mouth, one hand raising to bury in your hair.

You spend... quite a bit of time like that, devouring each other with a steadily increasing hunger, but never crossing the threshold into true, burning heat. Eventually, long after the credits have rolled, you pull away with a heaving breath, your lips and tongue aching from where he's been nibbling at them.

Oh, and how beautiful he looks underneath you, his eyes soft with a low, smoldering arousal, his hair slightly mussed from your touch, his lips indented with the markings of your teeth. He looks like he wants to consume you whole, like he wants to slide you up the couch and let you pin his face between your thighs and beg you to use him however you please.

But if you do that, your plans will be very much derailed - so you slowly sit up and away from him, mourning the distance.

"I'm gonna go get changed," you murmur, slowly tracing the exposed plating of his abdomen.

He shivers under your touch, swallowing heavily as he looks you up and down, his eyes dark and hungry.

"Wait for me in the bedroom, won't you?" you say, your voice dipping into something taunting, something tempting, something almost lascivious.

Without another word, you slide off of his lap and pad off to the bathroom, feeling his gaze burn into your back.

The moment the door closes behind you, a wicked grin overtakes your face. You've already given all of your gifts to him for the day-

All except one.

You kneel down and quietly open the cupboards below the sink, pulling out the small, inconspicuous box tucked in the back. It's been here for weeks, waiting for its time to shine.

Or, rather, your time to shine.

You swallow as you lift the lingerie from the wrapping, running your fingers along the soft red lace and decorative bows and ribbons. God, you pray this will look as good on you as you hope it will.

You strip, shivering subtly at the chill of the room; without any delay, you get to work putting on all of the pieces - girtle, garters (the moment you see them around your thighs, you know he's going to go absolutely postal), the skimpiest bustier you've ever seen in your life (and dear fucking lord does it make your chest look incredible), and plenty of other miniscule pieces that take you ages to figure out. The thigh-length stockings are especially agonizing, because they're essentially just twisting spirals of ribbon - but once you get them on, you know it was worth it. The ribbons are just tight enough to squeeze around your thighs and calves, and you'd bet your life that he's going to lose his mind over the subtle bulge of your skin in the spaces between. You add a few finishing touches - most important is the bow that you tie delicately around your neck, the ends dipping tauntingly between your breasts. Finally, once you're done, you take a long look at yourself in the mirror.

You realize rather abruptly that dating Boothill must have dramatically increased your confidence, because there isn't a doubt in your mind that you look phenomenal. You're a little worried he's going to go into emergency shutdown from overheating once he lays eyes on you.

Well, you'll resuscitate him. You're desperate to see the look on his face.

So, without further delay, you step out of the bathroom, then head straight for the place that you'll certainly be staying for a few hours at the very least.

The bedroom door creaks as you push it open, leaning in the door frame as dramatically and lasciviously as you can manage, and-

Boothill whips around and freezes like a deer in headlights at the exact same moment you do.

He's... He's completely bare, and in the process of wrapping himself in ribbon - bright, sparkling red and silver stands that wind around his chest and his limbs. It's a bit clumsy, a bit crooked, but it's genuinely quite good; you suspect he went through the trouble of looking through a guide of some kind. The ribbon crosses and loops to perfectly emphasize the curves of his body, framing the bulge of his plating and the dips in between. His whole torso looks fucking mouthwatering; he's perfectly framed his chest by a crossing pattern of ribbon that sweeps perfectly down into the dips and seams of his waist, which already looks incredibly grabable by default - but you actually feel your fingers itching, yearning to clench your hands just above those pretty little hips. His thighs are cradled beautifully by the winding stands, looping down around his calves and highlighting the sharp arch of his heels. He was just getting started on his arms, but one of his biceps is already beautifully bound and wrapped.

He breaks the silence. "Sweetheart, you..." he rasps, swallowing audibly. You were so distracted by ogling him that you honestly forgot he was ogling you - and he looks ready to pounce on you. "You're so gorgeous it's gonna put me six feet under."

"Well, you'll be taking me down with you," you mumble, a bit dazed, "because you look absolutely stunning."

Slowly, you lean away from the door, walking toward him like a lion on the prowl, your hungry eyes drinking him in like he's your next meal. You stop just in front of him, so close that you're able to reach up and trace the choker of ribbon that he's wound around his neck, following down to the ridges of his collarbones, into the center of his chest, then even lower, your fingernails running down the plates of his abdomen.

"Pretty boy," you murmur, partly to yourself. When you look into his eyes, you can see that the red dots of his pupils have blown wider than you've ever seen. "Can't believe we both had basically the same idea."

He takes a shaking breath when you slowly trail your fingers down between his legs, and his whole body shivers when you trace the seams of the plates that hide his cock.

"Honey, I'm..." he whispers, practically devouring you with his eyes. "I need you, darlin'. You look... Fudge, sweetheart, ya look so good I can't stand it."

Oh, how he makes your heart flutter.

When you smile, the edges are lethal, and your eyes glitter with mischief. You pout as dramatically as you can manage, but the curl of your lips gives you away.

"What, you aren't going to finish wrapping my gift? I'm wounded, honeybee." Before he can break out of his stupor, you reach down, twisting your fingers in the loose ribbon that hangs from his arm. "I guess I'll have to do it myself, then."

You see the realization in his eyes like a flash of lightning, and you can't resist the urge to hook your fingers beneath the ribbon at his neck, yanking him down into a kiss so hot that it could melt steel. You lick into his mouth feverishly, hungrily, almost desperately, scraping your tongue along his teeth. He moans, sweet and low in his throat, rumbling in his chest; his hands finally drift to rest at your hips, the cold chill of his metal bleeding through the thin material of your lingerie - and fuck, you love how small he makes you feel, how easily he could overpower you at any moment.

"Ah, ah, ah," you croon, pulling away. "Hands behind your back, honey."

The look on his face is positively agonized, and you drink it in like the sweetest ambrosia you've ever tasted. "But- But, sweetheart-"

You press your finger to his lips to shush him. "Gifts don't speak, do they?"

He looks like he wants to pin you to the wall and rip you apart. Instead, he opens his mouth and curls his tongue around your finger, his lips curling mischievously when you shudder. Entranced, you carefully trace his teeth with the pad of your finger, savoring the subtle sting.

"Turn around," you rasp, suddenly feeling parched.

He gives your finger a tiny nibble and your hips a thorough squeeze before obeying, turning his back to you, obediently holding his arms behind his back.

Time to get to work, then.

With a teasingly light touch, you wind the final stands around his arms, looping and crossing and tucking; then, you tie them together, hand to elbow, wrapped all pretty in red. You tie it off with a bow, and by the end, your favorite present of the day is standing there in all his glory.

You admire him for a long, long moment, circling him like a hungry hyena; all the while, he tracks you with his eyes, looking distinctly eager to pin you down and ruin you.

"You're so beautiful it makes me crazy," you mumble, nibbling at your lip.

"Keep talkin' like that, and I'll have to rip right outta this and tear you apart," he rumbles.

You smile, wide and wicked. "You won't, though."

You walk backwards until your knees hit the bed, and you settle into a lounge on the edge of it.

"You're awfully confident, sweetheart," he purrs, slowly prowling toward you like a wolf on the hunt. You watch him with dark eyes, spreading open your thighs so he can stand between them, looming over you in a way that might've felt menacing if he weren't looking at you like he wants to fuck you until you break like glass.

"Because I know you're a good boy," you croon, watching with delight as his jaw clenches, heat flashing in his eyes.

Low and sultry, you purr, "Down on your knees, bee."

Your gut clenches with arousal from just how quickly he obeys; he drops down in front of you, staring up at you like you're the most divine creature he's ever seen.

"See?" you murmur, your lips curling - though your brain is so hot that your lips shake slightly. "Good boy."

God, you think you could come just from the look on his face.

You take a breath, trying to compose yourself, and he takes the opportunity to rasp, "Let me taste ya, baby. Please. Wanna feel you on my tongue so bad I could die."

Well, who are you to deny such a polite request?

You watch his eyes dart to your cunt as you part your thighs just a bit wider, your lower lips visible through the sheer, soaked fabric. You sling one leg around his shoulder, pulling him into your orbit, watching him lean eagerly toward your pussy like a starving man to a banquet. You bury your fingers in his hair, holding him just out of reach, laughing openly at the tiny whine that escapes him.

"You want something, bee?" you say, your eyes shining. "Then take it."

When he looks up at you, you suddenly feel like you're the one on your knees. Without missing a beat, he leans forward, carefully pinching your panties in his teeth. You hold your breath as he drags them down, down, down, exposing your dripping cunt to his greedy eyes.

When he licks his lips, it reminds you very much of a wolf licking its chops before digging into its prey.

"You're gonna have to beg me for mercy before I'm done with ya, doll," he growls, sending a shiver up your spine. "And when I'm done, I'm gonna fill you up, and I'll make ya come until ya cry."

He's right, in the end. He ruins you, over and over and over and over, until you're utterly spent, until you're so come-drunk that all you can do is lay there and take it. He tears the fabric away from your body eagerly, muttering that he'll replace it later; then, he breaks you over his cock, rutting into you like an animal, marking your body with his teeth. He listens to the chorus of moans and whimpers and whines that spill from your lips, never sated, always starved.

And all the while, his arms stay bound behind his back, wrapped and tied neatly. And all the while, you're utterly helpless beneath him, pinned down and drooling.

(Merry Christmas indeed.)

@opheliaflavoredinstantnoodles @ikeagroceries @shadowstadium @theswashbucklingspy @cosmo112 @fxngtasy @rinzis

#sal.txt #boothill x reader #reader insert #x reader #boothill #honkai star rail #finished this later than i would've liked but oh well #if anyone draws him bound up in ribbon i will literally owe you my life #anyway happy holidays 💖#fem reader #smut

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