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averycutesalamander · 2 months ago

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finished the 2.6 story and promptly blacked out and wrote this in a feverish haze. minor gore warning (it's really mild but still). also this is up on ao3 if that's your preference. comments always appreciated but not obligated 💕 xoxo love yall

Boothill tries not to sleep very often.

He doesn't particularly need to, either; he can get away with around a dozen hours every week if he pushes himself – which he often does. The only time he sleeps with any consistency is when he's with you, in the interim between his long journeys away.

He doesn't often have pleasant dreams, but when he does, it's always when he's sleeping by your side. His particular favorite is an impossibility, as dreams so often are.

He's back on Aeragan-Epharshel, playing with Clementine. She's a bit older, now – around ten. She's still just as sunny as she always was – though he hasn't quite managed to get her to stop tugging on his hair; perhaps he should be content with her progress so far, considering that she never pulls hard anymore. He's outside with her on a blessedly warm fall day, painting stones with the pigments you made by hand; the holidays are a few months off, and Clementine wants to paint customized stones for everyone she can think of, aunts and uncles included. (She told him very decisively that she'd make his rock on her own. It has to be a surprise, obviously.) He'd argue that her painting is far better than his, but he still makes one for you – a messy collage of your favorite colors on a shiny black stone, forming a smeared mimicry of the night sky.

When she tires of that, he hauls her up onto his shoulders and heads inside to badger you, disturbing your reading. You banter; you chat; you help Clem clean up, then dot her little forehead with kisses until she laughs – that sweet, warm laugh, like the chime of a bell. After that, he helps you out with dinner, the aroma of casserole filling the entire house. Clem lingers by your feet, clinging to your pants as you chop vegetables plucked from the garden that morning. She looks up at you with those dewy doe eyes, pouting dramatically until you relent and give her small chunks of veggies; you're so used to her habit of begging like a dog for scraps that you bring out a little more vegetables than you need every time. He watches on with a tender, lovestruck smile, perfectly content.

When he woke up from that dream, it was to the silence of your bedroom, his eyes burning and his chest aching something fierce. He looked down at your sleeping form sprawled over his body, your limbs tangled and your face soft with sleep. With his hands shaking slightly, he shifted to hold you just a little tighter against him, savoring your weight, your warmth, your smell.

That dream will never be a reality, but at least he can fulfill some morsel of it.

It's rare for him to be so fortunate as to have sweet, peaceful dreams like that one – despite the irreconcilable yearning they're tainted with. Most dreams – such as the one he's having right now – are not so pleasant.

Smoke clogs the air, so thick that it burns his lungs. Flames press in on all sides, licking at his heels, searing his skin. The smell of death, of burnt hair and flesh, of ash and misery, is so oppressive that he feels like he's suffocating under the weight. A cacophony of screaming echoes from all around him, cannon fire bursting in his eardrums, but through the noise, he hears it – the shrieking wail of a child in pain, piercing straight through his heart.

He's running, clamoring through the fire, stumbling over the rubble of destroyed homes and corpses whose roasted, blistering hands grasp uselessly at his ankles, their croaking voices begging him for help; his instincts urge him to obey, to haul them out of the fire and carry them to safety, to tend to the wounds of his family – but he knows in his heart that there's no use. There is no safety here, nowhere to bring them, no way to treat burns so fierce that they've bared bone and sinew.

But there's a dash of hope in his heart, because that girl's crying is so clear, so crisp – he must be close. Yet no matter which way he turns, no matter how fast he runs, no matter how far he sprints into the carnage, he can't find her. Her cries turn sharper, more anguished; she sobs his name, pleading, begging, but her voice only seems to be getting further away. His chest heaves, his tears evaporating from his eyes before they can spill, his flesh melting from his bones in a slurry of fat and muscle. Why can't he find her? Where is she? Why did it come to this? Why, why, why–

“It's okay, bee.”

A soft voice echoes in the back of his head, nearly muffled by the deafening noise battering him from all sides. He collapses to his knees, completely spent, his whole body disintegrating into ash. He's burning, he's burning, but so is Clem – he can hear her screaming, louder and louder, piercing clean through his skull. He has to find her, he has to get up, he has to–

“Wake up, honey. It's okay. I've got you.”

The voice is a little louder now, and it feels like his body cools slightly, like the flames have been slightly dampened – but a moment later, they roar back to life with a vengeance. This can't be happening; this can't be real. He can't–

“Wake up.”

He jerks awake with a gasp, his whole body shaking like a leaf. He can hear your voice in his ear, your arms wrapped tight around him, his head nestled against your chest as you slowly rock him back and forth. He's already clinging to you, arms locked around your waist, but he pulls you in even tighter, desperate for an anchor. His breathing skips as he sobs, not a tear to be found, his body aching with phantom pain.

It takes a few moments for him to even process your words. “You're alright,” you murmur softly, stroking tenderly through his hair, your other hand tracing soothing circles into his shoulder. “Shh, shh. It's okay.”

Mindlessly, stupidly, he blubbers your name, nearly incomprehensible in his distress.

“I'm right here, baby. I've got you.” You tighten your hold slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Breathe with me, sunshine. Can you do that?”

You take a deep, slow breath, your heart beating steadily in his ear. On instinct, he mimics you, his lungs stuttering in his chest. The air of your exhale tickles his hair, and his own warms your skin, taking with it a bit of his tension. Inhale, exhale; slowly, his hydraulics begin to relax. Inhale, exhale; his hands grow a bit steadier, his palms flattening against your back. Inhale, exhale; he swallows heavily, the fear bleeding out of his veins.

The two of you stay like that for some time, your breathing keeping him grounded, letting him clear his mind. “I'm… I'm sorry,” he rasps, so soft that it's nearly muffled by your skin.

You shush him softly. “Nothing to be sorry about, honeybee.”

He doesn't even have the energy to rebuke you; as the terror flees his body, exhaustion rushes in to fill the gaps. After a moment, he murmurs, “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'm okay.”

He can practically feel the gentle, concerned furrow of your brow. “Are you sure? I don't mind staying up to talk with you, if that'll make it easier.”

He shakes his head, burrowing a bit further into your chest. “You're helpin’ just by bein' here, honey.” Slowly, he begins to rub circles into your back, just as you're doing to him. “This is just fine.”

He can sense your hesitation, can hear it in the beat of your heart. He lifts his head to kiss your collarbones, shamelessly savoring the scent of your skin.

“I'm okay,” he whispers. “Just get some rest for me, sugar.”

You're silent for a beat before finally sighing, your body relaxing against him. “If you say so.” You lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Promise you'll wake me up if you want company, alright?”

He smiles, a tender, shaky little thing, then presses his ear to your chest. “Sure thing, pumpkin.”

Thankfully, it doesn't take too long for you to drift back into a light sleep, your breathing deepening, your heart slowing next to his ear. Your natural rhythm soothes him so efficiently that he might've fallen back asleep if he weren't actively trying to stay awake. He distracts himself by stewing over your plans for tomorrow, how he'll spend his precious time with you.

He'll make you breakfast in the morning, he decides – though he'll have to be careful not to disturb you. He always loves watching you wake up, and he's sure it'll be even better if it's to a fresh plate of food.

Yeah, he thinks, his lip quirking fondly as he nuzzles into you a bit more firmly. That'll be good.

#sal.txt #boothill x reader #reader insert #x reader #gn reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #boothill #sal.sdfb

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asmolfolk · 8 months ago

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Married! Boothill with kids.

"Oh, to be the one who married Boothill… A dream that yours truly writer would love to live. So, did you even think about it?"

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Idea: Married Boothill with kids. Fandom: Honkai Star Rail. Character: Boothill. Genre: Fluffy and a tiny tiny lil' bit of angst! There's a small mention of sex too. TW? Spoilers/leaks ahead! ─────────────────────────── As you guys voted: Boothill with kids it is! Just to make sure you all know, the first part is HIM as a Husband. AFTER THAT It's him as a dad. It was really fun doing this as this was something that I thought about with him with my Yume <3 Also: If you take inspiration or use this as a reference, please TAG ME!! I RLLY WANT TO SEE! I will do way more Boothill too! So stay tunned, the next one will be: "One last time." A short-fic~

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When you were about to proclaim your title as "HIS PARTNER", you could see the way that his eyes shined as he looked at you. For once, it was certain: This man was IN LOVE with you. The way he seemed to be completely lost in your eyes as you talked to him, The way he would hold your hands… For the first time in forever, you saw him so vulnerable. And, then, when you two looked at each other and finally kissed. It wasn’t a kiss like the many others you two would share, it was… Sweet, it was gentle and held on a flame that you could never think that someone could feel.

As the day would pass by... You were sure you married the right man, he's eyes showed nothing but devotion, love and everything else you could EVER imagine to have someone looking you as. He literally seemed to be falling in love with you a hundred times PER second.

You saw how... Sad he looked as he would see the family of your friends, but then... It was just one look at you and you could almost read exactly what he was thinking: "I also DO have a family now."

But, enough with that! Let’s talk about how he IS as a Married man.

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At first, you didn’t notice it but he would look at you for longer, his eyes were always checking on you - as If he was scared to see you disappear if his eyes were somewhere else. Every Time you talked, he would immediately look at you with those big heart eyes. [I swear! Instead of a gun point, it looks like this:] (Also, just wanted to point out that he canonically blushes - the shy expression - even at his nose.)

(I edited those images!! - The little hearts and the blushing)

I SWEAR! He looks so blushy and shy, but don't be tricked by that fool expression! He is going to say some really romantical stuff out of nowhere, always trying to make you blush just like him. Not only that, but Boothill also seems to LOVE messing with you... But can't quite handle you making this back, at least, not in the beginning.

"Doll, aren't ya' the prettiest being in the universe? I could swear ya' were one of those goddess of beauty that the red haired knight would tal' about." - He would smile as he hold your hand, bringing it closer to his lips - "I could jus' survive by looking at you." His words were always so sweet and full of love, he could NEVER say something bad about you - Also because of his beacon. He would always try to make you feel loved by his words, even more after being married to you.

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As your husband, he would always be close to you. Normally, he loves to make you feel his face… It’s the only place he can feel it too. So, he loves EVERYTHING that could work with that. He would let his head resting on your lap, chest, belly, shoulder - ANYTHING. His head slowly turned into something that he communicates BEAUTIFULLY with you about. Sometimes, you compare him to an animal - More specifically a dog or a fox - because they would usually rub their head against their owners or to receive more attention. Even so, it was nice. Even if he was a bit heavy, those moments could be cherished as really important.

It was close to noon, still… Boothill was laying his head against your chest not even moving a finger while he recharged and kept his eyes closed. You were sleeping, he knew you were tired and he didn’t let you do anything else before you could receive a good sleep for some minutes. He swore to wake you up before it was too late for your compromise. When it hitted the exact hour you asked him to wake you up, he immediately started to try to wake you. He didn’t even think about letting you sleep, if you INSISTED on going: It was important and he TRULY didn’t want to ruin anything you were on. “Doll? Partner! Spouse.” - When you finally woke up or stopped asking for more minutes, he would hold you even closer - “It’s time for you to do your stuff.” When he did that, he knew it was only a favor but he always loved when you gave him a kiss or a praise for waking you in time. They were more than just happy to help you out. As he received his reward for waking you up, he would help around anything you needed as you did your own thing.

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He would show you off... But not in THAT strange way, no. He would proudly show everyone EVERYTHING you did - with your consent. You are an artist? Well, pal, seems like Pom Pom and the WHOOOLE Astral express LOVES your art, even the unimpressed trailblazer. [They asked you to make... A drawing of them and a trashcan falling in love?-] You make outfits? Seems like Argenti and others fashion and beauty freaks are making lots and lots of commissions. You BAKE?! Well, sweetie. For the first time, you saw lots of Galaxy Rangers at your door, asking for your prices and sweets. You KNOW that this was ALL him. But, even though you could think that he was trying to help you out - He would confess that he just couldn't stop talking about you to them. He is the sweetest cyborg hubby.

“My husband…” - You didn’t even need to call for him again, he stopped cleaning his guns and immediately came to you - “Could you perhaps explain to me why a lot of people started calling me and following me on social media?” “Oh… About that, darlin’… I may or may not talk about your skills at the bar…” - You couldn’t even get mad. He was at a BAR and the only thing he did was talk about you and drink, it was… Strangely nice, you felt a little tingle' in your heart as you heard him talk about what he said. You couldn’t even handle a laugh while you told him that it was okay.

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As your husband, you should’ve known that he would do anything AND everything to just see you smile. He was already like this… But you DID NOT expect how far he would go. If he saw you sad, he would sit down and ask you about everything. He believes in trust and that THINGS can be solved talking [with words or guns] and he WOULD NEVER try to buy your happiness. Not only that, he knows how to make you feel better. He made sure to remember every forking time you were feeling bad and he helped you… He always made sure to remember: What worked, what didn’t work, what helped a bit and what you HATED.

”Darlin’, you can’t be in your room forever.” - He heard a low (Watch me) from you and he chuckled - “I know ya’ are upset, but, lemme tell ya’ something darlin’... I just bought the whole Phantom of the Opera Musical and the Movie to watch with you and sing too… But I guess our musical karaoke can wait” The moment you came out of the room, you were met with Boothill wearing the Phantom’s mask. “Now, come, my Angel of Music… Let’s start that thing.”

Just a bonus: I’m OBSESSIVE over Musicals. I love them so much!! And I think that Boothill would love them too, at first: He would say that he doesn’t like them that much: The only ones he saw were really poorly made. But when you showed them your FAVS? THEY WERE IN LOVE! He started to sing along with you, loving the way you would always pick the best couples to interpret as. The first musical he loved was The Addam’s Family: He was the Gomez of your Mortícia. You two would sing along so sweetly that you thought about submitting to be them. Also: Never show Dear Evan Hansen to him, he will NOT stop trying to cry for a MONTH or WORSE. (Or do show.)

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As your husband… Oh, dear. His kisses were the BEST!! He CAN’T go one day without kissing you at least three times in a day. He loves feeling your lips, he loves taking your breath out and letting you feel all hot and bothered. Knowing that - even with that metal body - can make you blush and shy away or giggle or just look at him full of love was enough for him.

“Please… Again.” - He would ask and, as always, you would indulge. You kissed him, he would hold you so close that you thought he was trying to merge with you - “Ya’ are so… Amazing.” - He said, with a big smile while backing away for one second - “I could lose myself… In those big ol’ eyes of ya’” “Then, why don’t you?” “I want to still be able to live with ya’, to feel you… Not only to observe but to be present. If I were to lose myself on ya’ every time, where would I have the time to show ya’ my whole forking affection?”

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As your husband… He would never let you without aftercare. He would clean you up and let you relax as he does all the work, he is never tired, not after the modifications… So he doesn’t really need a rest. When he came across you, he finally noticed how cute you were. Letting you rest and caressing your head, he would pick you up to the bath… He would take care of you just like you always did with him.

”Are ya’ okay, darlin’? Want something?” - He asked as he massaged your back while you relaxed at the bath - “Food, water… Anything?” “Hmmm… Juss… Keep this up.” - You would answer, almost sleeping. His massage skills have improved a lot since the first time he did it, it was incredible - “I’m so… Tired, I just want to sleep.” “Hah… Aren’t ya a sleepy one? Well, I can do that for you.” - Again, he would take care of you… Even if it means learning new skills, learning how to hold you while drying you with a towel, learning how to help you put on your clothes or to just lead you to the bedroom. Learning how to look at your face and control himself to not kiss you: You were tired, he should NOT make any move to start something more right now. Learning how to hug you, learning how to let his head rest on your shoulder… Learning how it feels to hear your heart, learning how good it is to sleep hearing it.

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As your Husband, you can always expect good things from him… But there was one thing you never expected. When he told you about his family. [Spoilers/Leaks ahead!!] He was always so… Cheerful and silly while with you, you never DID expect to be meeted with such a cruel and terrifying backstory. The way he told you about his family… About that little girl that he took care of, about his daughter. How she died… How he lost EVERYONE in one day. One day was enough. He explained that… He truly felt like you could disappear if he didn’t try to make things right, if he didn’t protect you enough.

When he stopped for a second, looked at his hands… You didn’t expect the words that followed: “I… Never thought I would find a family again or someone to care about me. Not in this condition, I…’m so forking grateful to have meeted ya’. Not one freaking day I passed without loving you even more.”

“Darlin’, ya saw my bad sides… You saw how disgusting I look… And even so, ya still keep around… I don’t know why, I don’t even want to know why you stayed… In my head, it doesn’t matter why… I love you.”

“Sorry for that big talk, but ya know how I am sometimes;”

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As your husband and future Father, he would try to see if he could get you pregnant… If not, he would suggest adopting and then, you hitted him with an idea… That he loved: “What if we adopted kids from destroyed planets by the Ipc? Kids that live in shelters.” He knew, YOU were the one for him FOR SURE!

“Dove, you are a genius!” He would say, holding you and twirling you around - “I knew it! I knew it!... I knew that you were always the right one.”

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PAPA BOOTHILL!

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As a father, Boothill would probably adopt as many as he could. So I won’t tell you numbers exactly… But he would have a lot, he would be a total girl’s dad. Sweets, you could EVEN SEE: Boothill having their make-up done by the girls, playing with dolls with them, letting them play with his hair and the list goes on and on. You knew he would be a good dad and he exceeds your expectations. He would be so gentle and calm with the kids that many would think that he is another person: But you knew more than them. You would see him always playing, always making them laugh… And, of course: You would always be involved. It was NEVER always: “Just Dad and the Girls”, you were close. In any activity that you could participate in, the kids and Boothill were more than happy to have you around. The kids, some in 4~5, others newborns… Others almost or are teenagers, would be so happy playing and just studying with their papa.

”PAPA! MOMMA! LOOK!” - One of the oldest showed you their report card, they were an +A student - “I’m so so happy!! Are y’all proud of me?!” It was in a second, Boothill was holding the teenager - That he named Aponi - while screaming of happiness. “THAT’S MA GIRL! YOU SHOWED THAT FORKING PAPER WHO IS THE BOSS!” - He would cheer up with you. “We are so proud, Apo! You studied so much… You deserve a break… How about your favorite place for tonight? I know you wanted to go there.” “R-Really?! We can go!?” “Why, of course! You know that we just want your happiness more than anything… And, if that place makes you happy: It makes us happy too. Thank you for your hard work, Aponi… You did soo great!” “Yeah, gal, you deserve every compliment! But just so y’know… If you want something else, just ask me and I’ll buy it for ya.”

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As a father: He pampers his kids a lot… You could ask him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He has the money, the resources EVERYTHING to make this worth it… So he wants to, he wants - more than anything - to make this right. He couldn’t pamper his daughter properly and he CAN’T handle the thought that he may not be able to pamper any of his kids. He NEEDS to pamper, he feels like an obligation. Sometimes, you need to step up and try to put limitations on what he’s doing. He still needs to understand somestuff.

”Dear, you know that Kiona is only 5 months old, right? What’s she going to do with 8 pokemon’s plushies and those pokemon cards?” “She likes watching it… So I bought it so when she grows up, she will still have those.”

...

“Dear… I told you not to buy more of those for Nashoba. He needs to take better care of his teeths and the doctor told us to control the candies.” “I know, I know… But it was only one…” ... “Dear… Are you giving your credit card to a 12 year old?” “WHAT- Nooo… She just wanted to buy things for herself like a big girl, but I’m going to be right at her side!”

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As a father: He wouldn’t scream at his kids… NEVER. He would never even raise a hand, he would always talk and make sure that they KNOW that this IS a safe place. If you do something wrong, he is going to take care of it… YOU all are going to take care of it together. Even when his kid came across with a sad face while asking for forgiveness when they didn’t pass with all A+ and they started crying because they were scared that they would be sent alway… Boothill was hella mad but, right in front of his child, he would calm them, saying that they did their best and he would boost them up. Telling them that their grades were awesome and that they were so intelligent. Boothill would concentrate on what he KNOWS his kids like and praise them for it… As for the situation mentioned while you take care of the other children… He would have “a talk” with the kids' old parents.

”Booth-... Oh, I see.” You saw him, without any blood, but by his expression: You knew he killed them - “Are you okay?” “I’m better now… I discovered the whole scheme about those muddle-fudgers… They got what they deserved.” “I’m proud of you.” - You said, holding his hand and letting his head fall into your chest - “Thank you for protecting our children…”

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As a father, you knew that Boothill would do anything for your kids. It didn’t matter if they were adoptive or biological, he would treat them the EXACT same. Of course, he would spend a lil’ bit more time with those who want to follow his path… But, he would never let the others feel jealous about that. Not only this but he would also show the kids some skills he has. He would sing them songs, give them musical instruments if they are interested in… They would form a lil’ band together and you would be their singer. The kids were in love with that idea, even the ones who weren’t interested in music would participate: Dancing, making drawings, outfits and etc etc etc.

”Ohhh! Those are so cute!” - Said March 7 looking at your kids drawings - “Your kids are so talented!” The Astral Express became one of your kids favorite spots, even so that some of them want to become one. The sweet look on Welt's face when one of them told him that they wanted to become just like him. The look on Himeko’s face when one of the kids revealed that they didn’t like coffee until they tried hers. The look on March's face when the lil’ girl called for her, saying that she loved March and that she would always appreciate the photos they took together. The look on Dan Heng’s face when the quiet kid told him that they would love to be like him and take care of the databank. The look on the Trailblazer’s face when one the kids helped them to search for trash cans and even complimented the trash cans with them. The look on PomPom’s face when one the youngest said their name. Oh, the Astral Express LOVES your kids. They let them enter ANY time and would love to babysit them.

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As a father, you knew that Boothill made them love you even more, you knew that by the way the kids asked about you guys' love life once they grew up. The more romantical ones would dream loudly about how they would wish to have a romance like that - making Papa Boothill notice how fast your kids were growing. And, when you asked about who they wanted to be with… The answers came fastly. It was a big difference between other relationships, they were open with you two. They - YES - would tell if they were uncomfortable talking about something, but, even so… The ones who weren’t would tell you guys everything.

”I met this really cute boy at Xianzhou! He was soo cute!” - One of your kids said - “I thought to myself: They are so skilled and such a cute lil’ fellow.” “Sis, you are younger than him.” “Lemme praise him for a second!!”

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As a father, he was more than happy to have a family. He would be happy with just you… But with all of them, they remind him so much of his first daughter… Of his siblings. He, to himself, would wish that they could see him right now… And be sure:

”It took a while for me… But, now… I have a family again. My two families will always be together in my heart.”

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So, we reached the end! Hope you guys enjoyed it and that this made your day a bit brighter. As someone who sees Boothill as a comfort character, having people interested on my writting for him is such a nice touch. I can only thank you guys for your support and for reading until here. Thank you. If anyone wishes to be in the taglist for upcomming Boothill's oneshots, headcanons and imagines - Please tell me! And for those who wanted Angst, maybe I'll do the angst one someday <3

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Taglist: @spaeko, @4onlyyouruse.

#x reader #reader insert #headcanon #gender neutral reader #gn reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #hsr boothill #boothill x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #fluff

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rationaliity · 8 months ago

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slide — chase atlantic

' i can see the pain in your eyes i don't wanna say that i'm god but i'll take you to heaven if you die '

sunday has always prided himself on being effortless perfect in the public eye. but with his cock buried deep within you from behind, his hand twisted in your hair, forcing your head back as he fucked you senseless, he couldn't keep up that perfect image no matter how much he wanted to. how could he when you kept squeezing against him, milking his cock, practically begging him to cum deep inside of you with your body. and your sounds, the way his name rolled off of your tongue as you moaned and sobbed in a mix of pleasure and pain.. fuck, you drove him crazy, crazier than he thought he could ever get.

he forgot his manners when he was deep inside of you, the only thing on his mind was how good you felt around him. it didn't matter to him if you were hurting from his bruising, brutal pace, you were always so good for him, surely you could take this, right ? you were made for him, a gift from god served directly on a silver platter for him to enjoy, for him to ravish. and he was not a man who would let one of god's gifts go to waste, especially not one as pretty, as perfect, as you.

you were the muse, he was the artist, his fingers digging into your skin to create perfectly crafted bruises on your delicate skin. his lips pressing kisses down your spine before biting harshly at your shoulder, causing you to squeal out in pain. but you were so good, even through this you didn't try to squirm away from him. such good muses were made to be broken, to be used and fucked into oblivion until you

" i'm going to fucking ruin you, doll, " sunday promised, his hand on your hair forcing your head down onto his plush, pristine pillows, muffling your helpless little cries of pleasure as he fucked into you harder. " heaven won't even want you when i'm done with you. "

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heavenlyraindrops · 8 months ago

Note

BOOTHIL X READER PELALSPELLSLS I KNOW NOTHING AB HIM AND ITS BEEN A BIT SINCE I OPENED THE GAME BUT I WANT HIM SO BAD AND I AM SAVING SO MUCH TO GET HIM PSLSOSLSLSL

ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ——> saw this pic in a post by @lynettess then I got this req and I just. I had to

Warnings: profanity, very suggestive, Boothill kinda has an accent or smth idk it’s not bad or anything

A/N: see more of her as in, more often? Or in the other way…? Thanks for the ask Adonis. Sorry this was so short tho :( mayb if it gets enough notes I’ll write a pt. 2…

Your plans for a Friday night definitely weren’t to get drunk in some obscure bar in the middle of nowhere, lost all sight of your friend who had dragged you out for a ‘good night.’ They definitely weren’t to be sitting so close to Boothill, to the point where his metal torso was pressed against your warm one, sending a thrill through your body- but his breath fanning across your face was warm.

The alcohol coursed through your system, making you more sluggish than usual- though you were sober enough. Not sober enough to stop and think about whether or not you should get so close to a stranger, and a cyborg at that- albeit an attractive one. Boothill tilted his head to the side, smirk playing across his lips as you giggled at something he said while taking another sip from your glass.

Your eyes searched your friend out through the crowd of the hot bar, but couldn’t see her anywhere. His hand went to your chin, fixing your gaze back onto his own face.

“Eyes here,” he said. You grinned, again, face burning, although you couldn’t tell if it was from the heat or from his actions as you swept a couple of strands of hair from your own face. “Didn’t anyone tell ya it’s rude to not look at someone when they’re talkin’?”

You leaned precariously on your elbow, swirling the amber liquid in your glass. “Apologies,” you teased, hand pressed to your chest. His eyes followed the action. “How ever could I make it up to you?”

He leaned back, away from you, and you leaned into him again, and his grin only widened. Your eyes traced the marks under his eye and your heart thrummed against your chest. “A favour? From a pretty thing like you? I could never accept that.”

You held up your hand. “Hey, when did I offer you a favour?” You complained, trying to fight the colour rising to your cheeks at his little remark. He tipped his head back to laugh and the sinful thoughts filling your head as you looked at him were definitely not seeing you through to the pearly gates.

The past hour had been a blur, from when he had slid into the seat next to you, smoothly talking you into flirtatious conversation, up until now, where the tension was tugging at your fervently. And you were so, so close to grabbing him and simply begging him to-

“What’s wrong, sugar? Can’t handle a little compliment?”

No, no, I can’t. Not when it comes from you. Great, now I’m fucking wet. You smiled coolly and took another sip of your drink. “Not when it comes from you,” you shot back, echoing your previous thought.

“Nice to know I have that sort of effect on ya, sweetheart,” he murmured, and the metal tip of his finger tracing a path along your collarbone. You froze at the provocative touch, hands tightening around your glass, growing more and more restless.

“Is it?” You stuttered, fighting to keep your voice level. He chuckled, hand dropping down to your waist.

“Mhm,” he hummed, and suddenly moved back. Your muscles tightened with apprehension- anticipation? You couldn’t tell.

And then he took his hat off and set it on your head.

You burned at the thought of the implications of the action as his finger traced the rim of the accessory. “I’m assumin’ ya don’t have any specific plans for the rest of the night?” You took off his hat, setting it in your lap.

“Well, I didn’t.” You locked eyes with him.

He raised an eyebrow.

“But I do now.”

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sh1-n0bu · 1 year ago

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𝔫𝔬��𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 12: somnophilia with jing yuan from hsr

warnings: somnophilia, they consented beforehand, wait would it also count as cnc??? nipple stimulation, handjob

notes: i think my favoritism towards hsr is showing

‘dozing general’

what a truly fitting nickname for your lover as he continues to sleep peacefully in the comfort of your shared bed. well, not entirely peacefully as he lets out whines and soft moans of your name in his sleep, rubbing his thighs together as his tip leaks precum, smearing it all over his sleeping gown.

he seems to be having a wet dream. from the sounds he was producing as he desperately tries to hump the air. whining when nothing touches his cock to help him relieve himself from the lustful dreams of his.

you two have talked beforehand. due to his workload, whenever he falls asleep, jing yuan tends to sleep like the dead. whether it be a simple nap or a full on deep sleep. and of course, he can’t always be energetic to get himself fucked stupid.

so he brought up the concept of somnophilia. perverted as always as he eagerly consented to being touched in his sleep. allowing you to use his cock or hole or even his large chest however you please to relieve the both of yours’ stress. perhaps this time, you should put the consented perverted action to the test and see how he fairs.

hugging him just a little bit tighter from behind — he always insists on being the small spoon when cuddling — you slowly push a leg between his own. easing his tightly shut thighs open, your leg hooked inside his to keep his own two legs open.

a hand coming around to wrap him in a hug. but that was just a guise before your fingers tease his pretty pink nipples, rolling and pinching the soft buds gently between your thumb and middle as your forefinger messes with his hardening bud. jing yuan let out a louder moan in his sleep at that. hips bucking back in whatever wet dream he may be having.

placing soft kisses to the back of his neck, you continue to torment his nipple, feeling the usually soft bud turn hard and perky under your expert fingers. jing yuan could only whine and whimper in his sleep. sometimes letting out moans whenever you would pinch just a little bit too hard or pull at his nipple.

slowly your other makes it’s way down. pulling apart at the slit of his usual sleeping gown to reveal his muscular thighs. thighs that are already covered in old bite marks and bruises from your lovemaking a few days back. you may or may not have become a bit too harsh on him.

as an apology to that, your hand gently gropes and squeezes at his thigh without shame. easing your hand up and up, on his upper thigh until your hand slips deeper into his v-line, fingers touching his happy trail.

or maybe it was to make him whine louder, almost mewling, as he tries to make your hand finally touch his aching dick. he was already so hard and leaking pre all over his sleeping gown, making him almost sob from frustration in his sleep. whatever wet dream he may be having, he seems to have forgotten. proven by how his still slumbering body was craving and chasing your touch.

finally, finally, your hand comes to wrap around his shaft, making his hips buckle. a soft moan of relief is heard as he tries to fuck himself into the tight enclosure of your fist. he sounded so pathetic. needy whines, soft mewls and moans of your name falling from his lips as he pants heavily, slight drool already slipping past his open mouth.

rubbing your thumb over his weeping slit, you smear his pre all over his tip. of course, that wasn’t enough to be a lube to properly fuck his painfully erect cock. if you were to let go of him to get a lube from the nightstand, jing yuan would probably wake up. and you didn’t wanted to wake him up. you wanted him to continue to have his much needed rest while providing him pleasure.

with a reluctant sigh, you let go of his cock, making your sleepy lover whine loudly, brokenly like a sad cat being denied of their favorite treat. in a sense, he was.

gently shushing his sleepy whining, you spit all over your hand, making sure that there was a hefty amount. enough to at least work as a makeshift lube for now and to not hurt him.

taking his neglected dick in your hand again, you slowly move your fist. jing yuan lets out happy sounding moans in his slumber, weakly bucking his hips to little to no avail due to his sleepy nature and exhausted body.

peppering kisses and leaving lovebites on his exposed neck, pulling and twisting his poor abused nipple between your fingers as you continue to fuck his sensitive angry red cock into your tight fist — you absolutely reveled in the sheer power you hold over your lover. jing yuan may be the general of the xianzhou luofu but when in the safe space of your shared home, he would gladly turn himself into your toy.

unable to control yourself, you leave a bite to the sensitive crook of his neck. one that made his cock twitch in your hand before cumming over your fingers, soiling your skin with his thick, creamy seeds.

“b-beloved… do that again…” jing yuan calls out, words slurry and eyes heavy with sleep as he slyly smiles at you.

this cheeky bastard. he had been awake all along!

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suiana · 1 year ago

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in which you left your boyfriend a little bit earlier than expected (various yandere characters x gn reader) (inspired by mr loverman by ricky montgomery) (angstober day 1)

OH WHAT AM I...

"hey- wait, you can't leave me yet- we still haven't done all the things you wanted to do-!"

SUPPOSED TO DO?

"hah, I'm sorry..."

WITHOUT YOU?

"don't apologize! you're gonna be fine..! just- just stay with me! we'll get you to a doctor and we'll be back to being happy with one another! like we promised!"

I'M MR LOVERMAN...

"yeah... that would be nice... forever together... like we promised..."

you smile tenderly at him, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his tear stricken face. your breath is shallow, hands shaking from the cold as you try to stay conscious. huh, was your boyfriend always this beautiful?

"have i ever told you how beautiful you are?"

AND I MISS MY LOVER, MAN...

"you have! you always have! now just shut up and focus on trying to stay alive!"

he sobs, holding your body in his arms as the snow around you stains red. his bloodied arms are shaking fervently as he grips you as though his life depended on it. you can't help but sigh slightly at this. even when you were dying, he just had to grip you like a stress ball.

I'M MR LOVERMAN...

"we both know i won't make it-"

"shut up! you can't leave me too! you'll be fine and- and we'll be back to being happy together!"

he sniffles, eyes red as he tries to keep a positive attitude about this situation. yeah you were dying, how tragic and sad. you both know this fact, but your obsessed lover just had to be delusional and hope for a miracle to happen. he didn't want to loose you after all. you were all he had left.

yet you weren't worried at all. not about the fact that your lovesick boyfriend was trying to delude himself into thinking you were alright. nor about the fact that you would be dying in less than 10 minutes.

...for all you could focus on was how his teary eyes, soft sniffles, the setting sun and the falling snow surrounding you two... made him look much more beautiful than before.

OH, AND I MISS MY LOVER

"you're beautiful."

"shut up! this isn't the time for flirting!"

you couldn't help but let out a chuckle. your boyfriend was just too cute.

I'M MR LOVERMAN...

"can't i flirt a bit with my handsome boyfriend before i die?"

"shut... shut up! you won't die! i won't let you!"

you hummed in response to his statement, smiling softly at his harsh yet loving tone. and it was then that you realised how much you loved him despite all the things he had done wrong.

AND I MISS MY LOVERMAN...

"what's so funny?!"

"nothing... just thinking about how much i love you."

he stares at you, a grim expression on his face as his hold on you increases tenfold. the aura around him changes and something in him seems to snap. maybe it's the realization that you're actually going to leave him?

I'M MR LOVERMAN...

suddenly, he connects the both of your lips, kissing you passionately yet ever so gently, as though you were a fragile flower. his tears stain your cheeks, desperate hands warming your cold body as he continues to kiss you like he was on limited time.

except he actually was, for this would be the last kiss you two shared.

when he had his fill, he pulled away from you, lips swollen as his tears just never seemed to stop falling. he hides his face in the crook of your neck, sobbing into your once warm skin as you mustered up the strength to slowly stroke his soft hair.

"i love you! i love you so much! please don't leave me!"

AND I MISS MY LOVER.

"i love you too."

you smile softly as he continues to sob into your neck. you truly wanted to stay like this with him forever, but the more your hands stroke his head, the more you felt yourself slipping into the comforting touch of death.

"...don't forget about me, okay?"

the male stops sobbing for a second, pulling away from your neck to scold you.

"how could i ever forget about you? dumbass..."

he grumbles, hiding in your neck once more as you laugh weakly, your arm falling onto his head in an attempt to comfort him.

"don't... come over too soon, okay? go and... live your life."

you pause for a bit before continuing.

"I'll always... be here for you."

the male hums in response, not wanting to talk as he feels your hand drop from his head. when you do so, he shivers slightly. ah... has it always been this cold?

"...what an idiot."

he mumbles, staring at your peaceful face as the once neverending tears stop falling from his beautiful eyes.

...you really left him, huh?

"not only did you leave me, but you also took my heart with you too... how cruel."

he just wanted to love you until the both of you had grey hair. so why did you have to be such a fool and slip from his grasp now?

chuuya nakahara, mushitaro oguri, gojo satoru, yuji itadori, danheng, gepard landau, wanderer/scaramouche, kaveh, denji, your faves<3

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eternalin · 9 months ago

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ෆ impulsive.

is that a good thing?

summary — you got your ass in trouble,again.

characters — Dan Heng,brief mention of himeko,welt,march 7th and trailblazer

tags — fluff,gn!reader,you got hurt,one shot,you and Dan Heng are friends,a small argument turning into..?

an — can you tell I like Dan Heng? (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡

you and Dan Heng are good friends,you swear you are.but would other people agree?no.

everyone on the express knows that Dan Heng has feelings for you,how could you be so clueless and oblivious to the signs he'd given so far?you two were not just friends, definitely not.

if only you knew how gazes at you, his eyes softening ever so slightly,a slight red hue fading onto his cheeks,how he'd lower his voice,trying to sound as soft as possible,how the corner of his lips would curve up a little whenever you come up to him,even if its unnoticeable,to you,atleast.

it was just another normal day for Dan Heng,where he'd spend time in the archives,doing what he usually does,but that quickly changed,when you snuck inside his room,wounded.

you put a finger over your lips,with an awkward little smile,signaling him to keep quiet.if you only knew how the sight of you being hurt made his stomach churn.

Dan Heng had a worried and hurtful frown on his face,as he treated your wounds,the loud silence filling the room,none of you said a single word,but you could tell that he knew what had happened.

now you find yourself sitting on his mattress,with him bandaging your wounds.his touch was very gentle,treating you as if you were as fragile as a glass,one wrong move and you would break.

"Dan Heng,I-" you opened your mouth to speak,but he quickly interrupted.

after a few minutes,he put away the bandages and medicine back to their place,his gaze now landing on yours.

"why are you always so careless?" he asked,his voice laced with a hint of hurt,if only you knew how worried he was about you.

"but they started it!I just couldn't let that's slide."

"that's not the point,[name]." a frustrated sigh left Dan Heng's lips,his blue eyes narrowing slightly,you could see he was worried.

"you always manage to get yourself hurt,no matter what the situation is.this is not the first time."he continued,frowning as he kept eye contact with you,his voice was as gentle as ever,but that only made you more frustrated,why does he always act like he actually cares?it's not like you got fatally injured,anyways.he's always like this,you just can't understand,why?

and that's how an argument broke out between you two,at this point,you're both not even sure what you're arguing about anymore.

"haah.." Dan Heng lets out another frustrated sigh,as he knits his eyebrows,you could see he was getting frustrated,but so were you.

"why do you always have to scold me about it?it's not like you were the one who got hurt!" you shouted,angry and frustrated

"that's the point,[name],you were hurt.I'm just wo—" Dan Heng parted his lips to speak,when you interrupted him.

"why do you even care anyway?it's not like you—" and that's when he snapped,as he raised his voice,saying it out loud and clear.

"because I like you."

he swears it came out by accident,you weren't supposed to find out like this.he let his feelings get ahead of him,he wasn't going to confess so soon,not in a situation like this,at least.

silence filled the room,as your eyes widened in shock,your jaw dropping.

"what?"

Dan Heng had realised what he said,as his face turned bright red.

"Dan Heng,wait—"

springing up from the mattress,he ran out of his own room quickly,slamming the door shut without a single word,leaving you there alone flabbergasted.

everything was heard by the other members of the express,himeko had dropped her coffee,march 7th and the trailblazer exchanging surprised glances at each other as welt just sat there,knowing it would have happened sooner or later.

you would find Dan Heng avoiding you for the next few days,his face always flushed bright red as he excused himself whenever you were mentioned,quickly running away like a shy schoolgirl.

you'd have to take the first step,this time.

he's so cute I love him sm <3

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reanniee · 6 months ago

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denial

aventurine x reader

notes: nsfw, smut, oral (female receiving), voyeurism, power imbalance, unhealthy relationship, mention of slavery, mention of sa word count: 2.0k

aventurine is a selfish man, afterall.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. afterall, what use is the past? the only thing important to him now is the future. there is no need to look back on such trivial memories, on such useless moments.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. aventurine has no need for such simple memories, for such simple emotions. so, he ignores and rids of anything that may revive his memories of such a trivial and unimportant time.

though, there is something he cannot bring himself to rid of–you.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. as he keeps you at a strict distance. never too close, yet never too far from him. he makes sure that you are still in his sight, still in his grasp, still in his heart, and still in his life.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. so, he constantly reminds himself that you are nothing more than a bodyguard. nothing more than a mere tool, a mere weapon he has saved and decided to hire.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. so, he constantly tells himself that he does not love you. he needs to repeat it to himself to remind himself of the promise he made.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past. so, he is perfectly normal as the young daughter of the corporate boss, whom aventurine and his fellow stoneheart jade are currently negotiating with, approaches, and whispers something into her father’s ears.

he is perfectly normal as the woman blushes as she pulls away, and her father clears his throat, proposing an offer to the two stonehearts.

he is perfectly normal as the old man asks how much it is to purchase the lovely bodyguard by his side. the old man states that he will do any price.

he is perfectly normal as jade laughs whilst he is frozen in shock, unable to respond. she questions the old man’s use of the word ‘anything.’

he is perfectly normal as the old man nods. she laughs again before proposing that, perhaps a night would be satisfactory instead, at the cost of an extra 20%, that is.

he is perfectly normal as the old man looks to his daughter, to where she happily nods her head as the old man sighs, then expresses his agreement to the deal. jade then looks to you, asking if you are alright with the deal.

he is perfectly normal as you look towards him for approval, to where he provides no reaction, as he is perfectly normal. you turn back to jade, pausing a moment, then, you nod, stating that it is alright with you.

there is no reason for him to feel upset. no reason. he is perfectly normal.

he watches as the daughter of the old man seemed to light up, sparking with enjoyment and excitement. he watched as she ran up to you and grasped your soft hands, intertwining them with hers as she pulled you away.

he watches as the old man signed the contract that jade had written up for him, waved the two farewells, then exited the room, leaving the two stonehearts together.

he watches as jade laughs at him, placing a hand on his shoulder and asking if he were truly okay with sending you to that woman. he merely responds with what does it matter to him.

he watches as jade places a hand on his back, as if to console him. he does not need to be consoled. he is perfectly normal. she laughs at him, tells him he is in denial, before departing.

he watches as jade stops just before opening the door, telling him to go to the after party in an hour. it is important to keep up appearances in the ipc, she reminds him. and she warns him to control himself.

why would he need to control himself? jade does not need to remind him. he is aventurine, an esteemed member of the ten stonehearts under the ipc. aventurine has no need for such emotions.

aventurine arrives at the party an hour after his meeting. an hour after the deal was made. an hour after he sold you away. an hour after you left his side.

aventurine forces a slight smile onto his face as he converses with the other attendees at the party. it was a sultry and relaxing atmosphere, the lights dim as drinks were handed out.

aventurine finds himself walking around, scanning the entire room, trying to find where you are. he is stopped by many guests, constantly forced to put on a front and converse where the only thing on his mind is to find you.

aventurine tries his best to hold his composure as he finally spots you. you are with that woman. he watches as the woman pushes up against you, her cheeks flushed, seemingly tipsy.

he watches as the blush on her face grows, her expression morphing and her eyes showing a sense of desire. he watches as she smiles towards you, then grabs your hand and leads you to a secluded area with a couch. he finds himself following you two.

he watches as she pushes your shoulders down, forcing you to sit on the couch as she stands above you. he watches as your face has a slight blush. you must be tipsy, he tells himself.

he watches as she climbs into your lap, straddling your lap and leans into your face. he watches as she is now mere inches away from your face, lips close to touching. he watches as she leans forward, initiating a long and sensual kiss.

he watches as she pulls away after some time, gasping for air. a string of saliva continues to connect you two as the woman breathes heavily, attempting to catch her breath.

he watches as your eyes seem to get cloudy. a hint of desire forming within your mind as you stare up into the woman’s eyes as she breathes heavily. you are drunk, he tells himself.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you quickly flip the woman over, swapping your positions. you are drunk, he tells himself as you hungrily reinitiate the kiss, your tongue diving into the mouth of the woman now underneath you.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you raise your hands, interlocking with those of the woman beside her shoulders. you are drunk, he tells himself as when you pull away, you stare deeply and lovingly into the eyes of the woman who was struggling to breathe in front of you.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you slowly move down the woman’s body, placing kisses along a trail as you move downwards. you are drunk, he tells himself as you stop at her chest, fondling and placing soft, tender kisses at her breasts.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you pause and gaze into the eyes of the woman you are making love to. you maintain eye contact with the woman as you continue to trail down her body, stopping right above her cunt. you are drunk, he tells himself as you softly ask, may i, whilst arousal and need could be easily sensed from your eyes.

you are drunk, he tells himself as the woman shyly nods, to where you immediately rip off her skirt and underwear. you are drunk, he tells himself as you grab the woman’s thighs, spreading them apart as you keep a hand on each leg, giving you full access to the woman.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you dive your face into the cunt of the woman before you, skillfully and tenderly lapping at her insides and seeking her immediate pleasure, just like you were taught back then. you are drunk, he tells himself as you keep your eyes focused on hers, gauging her reaction.

you are drunk, he tells himself as her hands grip the hair on your scalp, begging you to stop as her orgasm was already near, her voice nothing but a crying mess. you are drunk, he tells himself as you refuse, continuing to give the woman nothing but complete and utter pleasure.

you are drunk, he tells himself as the woman releases, moaning out loud and gripping your hair. you are drunk, he tells himself as the woman begs for you to stop as it is too much, she’s too sensitive. you are drunk, he tells himself as he watched you continue to pleasure the woman, riding out her orgasm.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you finally pull away, arms still grabbing onto the thighs of the woman and your eyes continuing to keep direct contact with her.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you stay there for a moment, watching the woman before you, watching the woman who had struggled to catch her breath, watching the woman who had a deep red flush on her face, watching the woman with small drool dripping from the side of her mouth, watching the woman you made like this.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you rise, placing a knee between her cunt and edging your face closer to hers, laughing as she weakly grips onto your shirt. you are drunk, he tells himself as you tease her, speaking nothing but sweet nothings and praises into her ears.

you are drunk, he tells himself as you kiss the woman before you affectionately. deeply. passionately. lovingly.

aventurine is a selfish man.

aventurine refuses to acknowledge his past, just like he refuses to acknowledge the current situation in front of him.

he refuses to be with you–he refuses to love you–he refuses to bed with you–he refuses to force himself onto you.

he does not want to reawaken the horrible memories you have sealed away. the horrible memories that must still haunt you. the horrible memories that have left a permanent scar on you forever, both mentally and physically.

he keeps a strict distance between you two as to not inflict more pain onto you. he does this to save you–to protect you; just as he promised he would since the day he freed you. since the day he freed himself.

though, perhaps, just maybe. he does this all to save himself–to protect himself.

he does not need you. he does not care for you. he does not love you.

he constantly repeats to himself.

he does not want to need you. he does not want to care for you. he does not want to love you.

and yet–despite all he tells himself, despite all he repeats to himself–he loves you greatly, more than he could ever say out loud.

but for your sake–for his sake, he must never tell you his true feelings. he swore to protect you, he swore to save you–he swore to protect himself, he swore to save himself.

he is now aventurine. kakavasha is no more. and aventurine has no need for such simple emotions. aventurine has no need for such simple desires. aventurine has no need for such jealous. aventurine has no need for such love.

so he swallows his pride, swallows his emotions, swallows his love for you–forcing himself to stand there and watch you.

for now, allow him to maintain a slightly smile and a calm expression. for now, allow him to keep up appearances as the esteemed aventurine of the ten stonehearts. for now, allow him to believe that he is perfectly normal. for now, allow him to believe that he does not want you. for now, allow him to believe that he does not love you, for one day he knows that he will break.

aventurine is a selfish man, after all. and he will do whatever it takes to get what he wants.

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popsicle-parfait · 6 months ago

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I wish there were more fanfics for Sunday. Everyone was so swept away by Aventurine that they forgot THERE'S A LITERAL MORALLY GREY SAVIOUR COMPLEX MASTERPIECE in front of them. Not to say that I don't like Aventurine, I think he's great I just wish Sunday got the same amount of attention when it comes to fanfics. Also I straight up think that the fact he follows a dead aeon who drives off of similar elements from the Harmony yet differs is interesting. Like, the Harmony is about the kindling of people together under the guise of community and a vocalization of what makes them different but still able to cherish the thought of people together. Meanwhile, Order is similar in the together part but it's not through a sense of community it's though diminishing the differences and focusing on complacency, not letting anyone out of line. They both want "Harmony" but the ways they go about it are different. Sorry this turned into a rant lol😭.

Img creds:

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #sunday honkai star rail #male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #nb reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #non binary reader

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qipoth · 7 months ago

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SAGAU - SAHSRAU IDEA

𒂭۪۪۪۪᳝۟ ━╋ ♪ •̩̩͙*˚ ❀

Yeah but this is a idea that is rotting my brain all over the week-

IMAGINE that you have an OC (almost self insert) for the game that you have been playing recently...And somehow, The voicelines are acting strange... Mentioning some unknown character (It names casually after your Oc) that has no been appeared....

Is just a coincidence...

You think that all of this is just a new character that is just gonna come the next version because is all that hoyoverse always do when a character is gonna come out. But the next version hits and is no character with the qualities that has been mentioned in.... And the signs is just getting more and more evident!!!!

And when you are exploring you see a new room for the faction that you always wanted to be part of it

And when you enter the room is the perfect room you ever imagined from you Your OC!!!

All of this is just strange... What is Hoyoverse cooking this time?? You think.....

But meanwhile in the universe, everything is in chaos, because the gaze of their almighty creator has been disappeared everyone is in panic

D-did they did something wrong?!?!

A-a-are you mad at them!?!?!?

DO YOU GET BORED OF THEM!?!!

But then, in this chaos it appears a new character!!! Everyone is stunned, because you. They hold the oh so divine essence of his creator!! Not even the Mc has that!! And the gaze returns even more warm, loving and gentle, like it is telling them that you bring them one part of you to them!!!!

You love them so much, right?

And the character asks to join to the traveler & paimon/Astral Express!! They are sooo lucky! So you get to travel with them

Don't pay attention to the obsessive eyes and glares that everyone has to you, the cligniness and the jealous glares that they trown to each other<3333

After all, you don't have to be worried to get hurt, they will protect you, At. every. cost.

Howdie!!!!<3

I'm not new in the community of Self-Aware, but I am new at all of this of the brainrot and fanfics!

I will be posting some ideas that I have or fanfics that it might be for there, also, you can use the ideas for the fanfics!! Just pls give credit...

So, I hope that my fanfics & ideas will be good for you!!!

Also I finally gain courage to write my own self aware blog pls be good

#yandere sagau #yandere hsr #yandere genshin impact #yandere honkai star rail #genshin sagau #honkai star rail #sagau cult au #sahsrau #self insert #gender neutral reader #cult au #yandere genshin x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #gn reader

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scribbless-n-stuff · 2 months ago

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Volume III: Headcanons/Imagines - Dan Heng IL

Characters

Dan Heng/IL

Warnings/Info

fluff!!

not proofread lol

Author’s Notes

I’m writing this in the middle of school right now guys

tbh my classroom is like so cold rn, that's what influenced the fanfic's themes LMFOAOAOA

I imagine Dan Heng being an Acts of Service boy. [Maybe slighhhttly Gift Giving and Physical Touch too :3]

The Astral Express stopped at Jarilo-VI, Belobog. The crew wanted to pay Bronya a visit, wanting to check on her, given her relatively new position as the Supreme Guardian of Belobog. In the meantime, you and Dan Heng were walking around the snow-dusted streets. It was about late afternoon, the sun was slowly starting to set.

Dan Heng notices the goosebumps on your neck and how your ears were reddening due to the cold winter breeze. He furrowed his eyebrows at this, also not liking how you weren’t asking him for help

He stops walking, grabbing you by the shoulders to make you face him. You let out a startled yelp, as you’re suddenly facing Dan Heng. “Uh– yes?” you sheepishly smile up at him, your teeth slightly chattering because of the cold. He frowns at you, letting go of your shoulders. “You’re cold.” He grumbles disapprovingly, slipping his scarf off his neck. He swirls the scarf around your neck. However, because of how big and thick it was, it pooled around your shoulders and even covered the lower half of your face.

“Thank you..” You mutter, the coziness of the scarf brought warmth to your nose and ears. You basically melted into it. Dan Heng internally smiles at the sight. “Yeah.. just don’t catch a cold.” He says, softly scolding you.

You just smile in response, “Do you wanna head back to the hotel? I’m pretty tired.” You ask, as the cold weather was taking a toll on your energy, making you feel sleepier.

Dan Heng takes note of this, not really minding if your afternoon walk was cut short anyway. “Alright, we can go if you want to take a nap..” he says, offering his arm out for you to hold. You nod and smile, gladly wrapping your arm around his.

During your trek back to the hotel you guys were staying at, you notice Dan Heng’s hands slightly tinting into a light red, you figured that he was getting cold now too. Unlooping your arm from his, he gives you a questioning look. “What?” he blinks.

You take off your right glove, offering it to him “Put this on, you look like you're getting cold now..” you say. Dan Heng nods, taking the glove and putting it on. The warmth of your hand still lingered in the piece of clothing, making his heart feel warm as well.

Instead of holding him by the arm this time, you hold his unclothed hand with yours, keeping both of you warm.

#fanfics #fanfictions #honkai star rail #x reader #fluff #drabble #dan heng x reader #oneshot #dan heng #astral express #imbibitor lunae #hsr x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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averycutesalamander · 13 days ago

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pls write yan!boothill OMG WHO SAID THAT

ohoho....!! i must confess that im quite picky when it comes to yandere content, bc i don't particularly like the extreme end of the spectrum. physical violence and straight noncon in particular don't click for me (absolutely no shade to people who like that tho, you do you!!) buuuuuuut ..... i mean, im the one writing?? so i can do whatever i want??? so alright here you go :) also check my reblog for.. a lot of rambling lmao

may i present to you: my interpretation of boothill in love, but he has a few too many screws loose. warning for relatively vague descriptions of violence and, uh... yandere stuff. you know how it goes.

In all honesty, Boothill is not a "love at first sight" type. His attraction to you is a gradual, budding thing, built over many repeated encounters. He's emotionally isolated himself, after all - built a wall thick enough to muffle the whispers of his past, smothering it in a slurry of rage and sorrow. It'll take time for him to let down his guard for long enough to even register the feelings you conjure in him - a flutter in his chest every time you smile at him, a spark of joy every time he makes you laugh, a strike of fondness every time he looks at your pretty face when you aren't paying attention.

And beneath it all, a low, simmering greed, a hunger, a yearning; the urge to bite and devour and never let go.

The pressure builds with time, as the two of you grow closer. He visits often, though not so often that it would catch the IPC's attention. You laugh and joke and tease, playfully flirting with him yet keeping a healthy, platonic distance. (He very pointedly and stubbornly ignores the way his heart soars when you look at him like that - like you want to pull him into your bed and let him take you apart, piece by ruinous piece. It's just harmless fun, after all.)

(Right?)

Despite the yawning fractures in the wall he's created, despite the increasing complexity of his feelings for about you, he still hasn't untangled whatever complicated web of feelings that's arisen around you, content to leave himself oblivious for the time being - until you make a joke about him marrying you and sweeping you away on some bizarre galactic adventure, and he damn-near bluescreens.

(He hates, hates, hates that the first thing he feels is something adjacent to the feeling a cat gets when it finally corners a particularly unruly mouse, akin to the thrill he gets whenever an enemy exposes a weakness. A sick, twisted kind of satisfaction.)

His mind churns as the wall cracks, wavers-

...and crumbles.

He panics. He makes a flimsy excuse about getting a notification through his neurochip, about needing to help out a fellow ranger - and he feels even better worse when you believe him unhesitatingly, sending him off with a sweet little "Be safe!" just as you always do.

It's only after he leaves the planet that he thinks about how much you've grown to trust him, about how damn gullible you are, about how often you give him the benefit of the doubt, about how kindly you've always treated him in spite of (or perhaps because of) his dozens of strange quirks. Everything unravels, threads spilling from his fraying mind and spilling between his fingers, and when the tattered fabric settles-

He simply can't deny it. He's in love with you.

It takes some time for him to piece himself back together - weeks of complete silence from him, your texts going unanswered. Every time he sees a fresh notification from you, his heart twists with guilt - but he's not ready to face the music. Not yet.

He comes crawling back to you, sooner or later. He knocks on your door with the most sheepish, guilt-ridden look on his face that you've ever seen, a rich bouquet laden with yellow roses and purple hyacinths tucked timidly in his arms. He lies about why he left - says it was all because of a mission that got more complicated than it should have, and it wasn't safe to reply to your messages - but when he tells you that he's sorry, he means it genuinely.

He's a bit disturbed by the sensation in his gut - that foul, wicked satisfaction when you accept his apology with barely a slap on the wrist, cheerily inviting him inside to catch up. You tuck the flowers neatly into a vase, chatting easily with him as you carefully arrange them.

"It's alright!" you say, waving dismissively at him when he murmurs another apology. "I know you're busy. I can't be your biggest priority, obviously. You've got more important things going on."

(You don't have a clue how wrong you are.)

He integrates back into your life like he never left. When he has the time, he sneaks his way back onto your planet, knocking on your door or searching for you in your usual spots. You get impossibly closer; your playful flirting goes from blatantly humorous to something foggier, something more ambiguous, teasing the line between platonic and something heavier. He matches you step by step, returning your advances with just a little extra spice, his eyes a bit darker and his smile a bit wider.

He tries to be patient - god, does he try - but there's an itch that's bloomed beneath his metal, impossible to scratch, impossible to sate, made worse by every little joke you make about kissing him or touching him or marrying him or letting him spirit you away. The pressure builds further and further, the tension winding tighter and tighter, the anticipation bubbling higher and higher.

(He will never, ever admit that he truly contemplates stealing you away, crowding you onto a ship and carting you off so he can always keep an eye on you, can always guarantee your safety. His paranoia has been building since he recognized his feelings for you; it's taken every ounce of restraint in his body to stop himself from giving into the urge, from crowding you, from suffocating you, from locking you away like a fragile songbird in a cage.)

(He's torn between his protectiveness and his understanding that you deserve freedom. You deserve independence and a life that isn't tied directly to him. He doesn't even know if you return his feelings. But...)

(But there's that nagging feeling in the back of his head, that pestering little voice that grows louder by the day. You'll be safer with me, it says, dark and tempting, bursting behind his teeth. I can make you happy. I can keep you safe. I can show you pieces of the universe that you've never seen before. I can love you like no one else ever could. I can hold you and cherish you and consume you and-)

(He takes that little voice and wraps his hands tight around its throat, frantically trying to suffocate the noise, terrified by its allure. But it's always there, lingering, lurking - because the call is coming from inside the house.)

Something gives, eventually.

When he inevitably breaks, his lips crashing heatedly and messily into yours, there are two paths ahead - but the difference is ultimately moot, because they collide not long after.

Perhaps you reciprocate. Perhaps you melt against his lips, your arms coiling around his shoulders and drawing him further into you. Perhaps you whimper when his hands trail downward, squeezing at your hips. Perhaps you pull away with a gasp, your pupils blown wide, your heart pounding when you see the look in his eye - dark and hot and desperate and hungry. Perhaps you accept his quiet declaration of affection with open arms, returning it in full, your eyes sparkling with joy.

Or perhaps you reject him. Perhaps you freeze like a startled deer before pushing him away, your face slack with shock. Perhaps you apologize, stumbling over your words, your heart thundering in your chest when you see the look in his eye - dark and cold and empty and hungry. Perhaps you gently tell him that you don't feel that way about him - that you only see him as a friend.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because Boothill - careful, meticulous Boothill - has slipped up, and the IPC finds you.

After he leaves next, whether that be with a broken heart or a giddy one, a trio of IPC employees pluck you up from the street in broad daylight, shoving you into a dark transport ship for "questioning." And once they bring you to an IPC space station, they do indeed question you - though it feels more like an interrogation, considering that you've been tied ankle-and-wrist to a chair like you're a dangerous serial killer and not a regular civilian.

"Suspected colluding with the criminal known as Boothill," your "interviewer" tells you flatly, idly thumbing at the knife in their hand. "Camera footage, reports from neighbors, records from his Synesthesia Beacon... All clearly show that he has made repeated visits to your planet and your home. We're in the business of knowing why."

Perhaps you keep your mouth shut and refuse to divulge anything, no matter how close that knife gets to your bare skin. Perhaps you break when it begins to slice into your flesh, drawing blood from your body and tears from your eyes and stuttered words from your lips. Perhaps you grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling to betray the man you've grown so fond of.

Or perhaps you cave immediately. Perhaps you sell him down the river the first chance you get, frantic explanations spilling from your lips. Perhaps you tell them that you had no idea he had such a massive bounty on his head. Perhaps you panic when they find the information insufficient and draw the knife on you anyway, deaf to your begging and pleading as they wet your skin with blood.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because a distant explosion rocks the entire space station, and the flashing lights from the silent alarms interrupt your interrogation.

You're left alone when the IPC agent flees, locking the door behind them with a heavy clunk. Minutes pass as you fumble desperately with your restraints, your body pulsing with pain; a cacophony of gunshots and screaming penetrates the thick walls, growing louder and louder, your heart pounding faster and faster.

There's a noise just outside the door - a horrifically wet noise, like raw flesh on tile. You freeze like a rabbit that's just heard the panting of a starving wolf, far too close for comfort.

Silence. Your head aches from the flashing red lights.

Suddenly, steel fingers wedge into the gap between the locked door and the wall, single-handedly tearing it open and breaking the hydraulic lock with inhuman ease. Metal crunches and squeals, piercing the quiet - and there he stands, right in the doorway, a silhouette of black and red.

Never in your life have you seen him this manic.

His white hair drips with scarlet and his teeth are bared; his eyes are alight with rage, a shock of bright crimson among the dark smears of blood and viscera that coat him head to toe. In the light of the alarms, he looks like the perfect picture of a killer from a horror movie; violence and slaughter, just waiting to be unleashed. When his gaze locks onto you, there is a long moment of utter stillness; instinctual terror floods your entire body in a cold flash, because there isn't so much as a glimmer of humanity in those eyes - only pure, boiling, ravenous, frantic anger.

For a heartbeat, you're convinced he's going to rip you apart with his teeth.

Then, as if he finally registers who you are, the madness evaporates, replaced by a nearly manic sort of relief. He rushes to your side, looking you over; you don't miss the flash in his eyes - seething, smoking fire - when he spots your injuries. In the same breath, he snuffs it out, focusing instead on breaking your binds with his bare hands.

You're already crying when he takes you up into his arms, cradling you close to his chest and unwittingly smearing IPC blood onto you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he murmurs, soft and reassuring, a beacon of comfort in a sea of terror. "I'm right here. I've got ya. No one's ever gonna take ya from me again, okay?"

(Maybe if you weren't in shock, you'd be startled by his words. As it stands, though, they're like music to your ears, like a warm blanket settled over your shoulders, like a tight hug from someone you trust with your life.)

He encourages you to press your face into his shoulder - mercifully free of blood - as he carries you through the carnage he's left in his wake, the jangle of his spurs and your muffled sobs echoing through the silent halls. Your entire body shivers at the noise of him stepping into some unidentifiable slurry of viscera, and he thumbs at your back in an effort to soothe you, speaking quietly into your ear about everything and nothing.

Time passes in a blur of tears. He takes you to the ship he, uh... commandeered to get here, ducking into the bathroom and settling you gently - so very gently - onto the floor. Or, rather, he tries to - because your fingers are frozen stiff in his jacket, your grip unrelenting.

"You just wait here for a sec, alright?" he whispers softly, the chill of his hand settling lightly against your wrist; the blood there still feels warm to your delirious mind. "Gotta get the autopilot started, okay? I'll be right back."

You're both surprised when you shake your head insistently, your eyes wet and pleading. In an instant, he softens, his heart aching in his chest.

"Alright, sweetpea," he breathes, carefully picking you up again. "I've got ya."

He keeps you cradled to his chest as he walks to the cockpit, holding you easily with one arm as he gets the ship moving. Reinforcements are on the way, no doubt - but you'll both be long gone by the time they get here.

(Maybe the IPC will get the message when they find the scene he's left behind - when they view the camera footage and see the rampage he went on. Decapitation and disembowelment is a new one, even for him...)

(...but he needed to make it clear that no one, no one, touches what's his and gets away with it.)

When the engine is purring beneath his feet and the rumble of FTL travel is humming in the walls, he brings you back to the washroom and settles you to the tile again, gently untangling your grip from his jacket. You're in shock, he's sure, so he's careful to continue talking to you as he wets a towel with warm water, murmuring soft reassurances as he wipes the blood from your skin, handling you like you're glass.

Once you're clean, he messily towels himself off to get the worst of the mess off, then brings you to the captain's quarters, digging around in the closet to find something comfortable for you. Your shaking fingers cause you trouble, so he gently eases your ruined clothes off, his eyes respectfully averted as he helps you redress. He takes one look at the messy, used bedding and promptly decides to change the sheets. (Something within him stirs and snarls at the thought of you smelling like anyone else.)

Finally, when all is said and done, he eases you beneath the covers, brushing away the last remnants of your tears. His heart is torn between singing with joy and aching with pain when you reach up and take his hand in yours, your fingers wrapping tight around his.

"Gotta go wash up, honey," he murmurs, watching you closely as you sink into the protective huddle of the blankets, exhaustion painting your features. "That alright? I'll be fast."

(He tries very hard to ignore the flutter in his chest from the look in your eye - like you're genuinely considering whether or not you need to stay near him, like you aren't sure if you can bear the distance.)

(He also tries very hard to ignore the little pang of disappointment when you slowly nod, releasing his hand.)

He cleans himself up with record efficiency, resigning himself to wearing clothes that are a size or two too small until he can wash his usual outfit. The clothes are for your sake, really; it's not like he has any, uh... equipment to expose - not yet - but he's relatively sure that it would make you uncomfortable anyway.

By the time he steps lightly into the room again, you're asleep.

For a long, long moment, he's struck stupid by the sight of you, by the softness of your face in rest.

Fuck, you're beautiful. He knows it in his heart, feels it in his core, senses it in his chest - you're the prettiest little thing he's ever seen.

(And you're all his, now.)

His fists clench, and he swallows down the thought like bitter poison. (You deserve better than this - better than him. He's a broken man, he knows - a messy reconfiguration of a thousand corpses, glued together by hatred and grief. He could never love you the way you deserve. He could never-)

He's broken from his rapidly spiraling thoughts when you twitch, a tiny furrow appearing in your brow. A surge of emotion nearly bursts in his chest - the urge to comfort, to protect, to soothe - and he slowly circles to the other side of the bed, climbing into the empty space and settling beneath the blankets. Hesitantly, he wraps one arm lightly around your waist, drawing you against him with your back pressed tight to his chest.

His heart soars when he feels you instantly relax, the tension fleeing your body.

(It's fine. This is fine. He'll make everything better. No matter what he has to do, who he has to kill, he'll make everything better.)

(He's not wrong - but he also doesn't need to disable the button on the inside of the ship that opens the exit hatch. You don't need to know that; he doesn't need to acknowledge that.)

A handful of days pass like that. When he stops by a market to get supplies for you, he gently tells you that it's best for you to stay in the ship for now; odds are that you actually have a bounty on your head as well, now.

As time passes, he tries not to suffocate you, tries not to hover, wary of putting you under any more stress - but it's ultimately a useless task.

When you finally, tentatively ask him about going home, his brain goes numb, the world snapping into sharp focus. He turns his gaze to you, disturbingly absent of emotion.

"It ain't safe for ya there, now that those IPC dogs know to look for ya," he says, his voice far too even.

When tears begin to bud in your eyes, it finally sweeps up some sympathy in his chest, his entire face softening. He takes your shaking hands in his, tenderly grazing your knuckles with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he rasps, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

(He's barely sorry.)

"I don't like it either, but..."

(Yes, he does.)

"It's safest for ya to stick with me, alright?"

(Wishful thinking. He could find somewhere for you to stay - some quiet planet outside of the IPC's reach, where you could live without worry. He could send you credits regularly. He could make sure you were happy and secure, independent of him.)

(He won't.)

(He could. He should.)

#sal.asks #sal.txt #this one was a toughie but it was fun!! (and way longer than i thought... oops lol) hope my answer was satisfying haha #goddddd you just know he looks so hot when he's so furious that it consumes every drop of his reasoning. guard dog privilege and whatnot #also i had a dream a few nights ago where i got kidnapped by boothill #was that a cosmic coincidence or did you hex me #boothill x reader #boothill #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #yandere #hsr #honkai star rail #yandere hsr

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asmolfolk · 7 months ago

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Treating my best friend as my lover - Idea.

Idk why I'm doing this. but if ya'll want it to became a series with imagines and everything, I'm down for that.

Genre: Fluffy, Friends to Lovers. Idea: You decided to start treating your best friend as a romantical partner... And, sometimes, fake being really jealous or something like that. Characters that I'm planning to do it: Boothill, Jing Yuan and Aventurine [From HSR.] Neuvillette, Zhongli and Pantalone [GI] Scar, Jiyan and Calcharo [WuWa] [I can add more later on.]

I'm going to have a taglist for this series, so, if you want to be tagged please tell me. Also, if you want me to do other characters, I'll try my best. Another thing is; This series will not contain smut.

༺═────────────────────────═༻

Series list.

Boothill.

07/06.

Jing Yuan.

??/??

Aventurine.

??/??

Neuvillette.

??/??

Zhongli.

??/??

Pantalone.

??/??

Scar.

??/??

Jiyan.

??/??

Calcharo.

??/??

༺═────────────────────────═༻

A quick note: My others promised series are going to start tomorrow, starting with Sunday - Childhood friends.

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mire1li · 23 days ago

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Towards - Prolonged Iteration

Description: After a messy public break up with your fiancé, you were left disappointed and decided to venture out alone, however, with time you'd noticed an unusual anomaly after death, which caused you to wind up back at the venue you originally left.

Chapter I: Recommence thine Journey. Chapter II: Coming Soon Chapter III: Coming Soon Chapter IV: Coming Soon Chapter V: Coming Soon Chapter VI: Coming Soon Chapter VII: Coming Soon Chapter VIII: Coming Soon Chapter IX: Coming Soon Chapter X: Coming Soon Chapter XI: Coming Soon

Chapter XII: Coming Soon Chapt XIII: Coming Soon Chapt XIV: Coming Soon Chapt XV: Coming Soon Chapt XVI: Coming Soon Chapt XVII: Coming Soon Chapt XVIII: Coming Soon

Inspired by the "7th Time loop" anime!

#reader insert #gn reader #fem reader #honkai star rail #x reader #hsr jing yuan #sunday hsr #hsr x reader #jiaoqiu hsr #blade hsr #black swan hsr #aglaea hsr #jing yuan x reader #sunday x reader #black swan x reader #aglaea x reader #jiaoqiu x reader #blade x reader

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mirrology · 8 months ago

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— Rowdy .ᐟ ☆

୨୧ rowdy: ( noun) a noisy and disorderly person. (adjective) noisy and disorderly.

Ft. boothill, gender neutral reader. platonic. Wc: 722

Content: short bit of hc's and a small fic at the end, readers age is not specified, boothill being a little shit, he cares abt u tho, typical sibling shenanigans, sibling bonding, cursing, boothill may be ooc.

A/n: first ever platonic boothill fic /j, also this is kinda lazy but whatever.

He would definitely be one of those annoying brothers that come into your room just to look at you, then leave without closing the door.

but he genuinely cares about you and your safety considering his job as a galaxy ranger.

Boothill also definitely calls you runt, squirt, & kid no matter how old you are or no matter how much you complain.

Frequently ruffles your hair as a sign of affection, although this ends in bickering when you do your hair before it.

Definitely can't cook for shit, every time he tries to make something for you out of the kindness of his heart, he absolutely wrecks it.

It ends up burnt and inedible, and a purple aura around in a cartoonish fashion. and oh, the poor kitchen, you can't count how many times you've had to fix something. it has gone through a lot.

The two of you have sleepovers where you do skincare, watch movies and gossip about anything and everything.

you would think that Boothill is more of a horror movie and/or action movies type guy but he has a soft spot for sappy romance movies and the saddest films possible.

and if you feel like it, both of you talk about your love life.

Trains you by sparring in hand-to-hand combat, he usually wins the sparring, but you've gotten close to beating him.

After your training session you flop on the floor like a dead fish and beg him to carry you back inside, he obliges but not before teasing you for falling to the ground.

he picks you up in a princess carry or in a piggy back ride.

Boothill gives you things at the most random times, "oh but it's not a holiday or anything special today!" you can say but he won't care. accept his gift.

If you just as much glance at something in a store for 1 millisecond you'll find said thing in a gift bag with a little note, handwritten by him.

Since he's part robot he can't drink water or even touch it or he will malfunction, even though he's made to sustain the harsh weather of the desert and attacks from the criminals he hunts down.

so if he's being stubborn and does go through with touching water, you're the one who (quite literally) brings him back to life.

and because of this you've become well-versed in technology. you constantly fix anything that is wrong, such as a jammed finger. Although can't seem to get rid of that swear filter that he's unfortunately stuck with.

Overall Boothill is a very fun elder brother who wants to keep you safe.

You woke up to the feeling of being moved from your spot on your desk. you had been working on one of your tech projects, spending hours on end tinkering away in your room. You cracked one eye open, sleep pulling at your eyes, wanting them to close one more. You were met with the familiar face of your brother above you. then you registered the feeling of his hand on your back and underneath your knees.

Boothill noticed your sleepy gaze on him, and he smiled cheekily, "Heya, runt. I see ya' woke up" he chuckled in amusement at your disheveled appearance. He laid you down on your bed and placed the covers over your body, you immediately sank into your mattress and the soft feeling of the blanket on top of you was making you sleepier.

"Jeez, how long have ya' been up?" His smile dropped a little as he noticed a faint outline of dark circles underneath your eyes. "dunno..." you slurred out and turned to your side, facing him. "Hey, big bro?" you quietly said, Boothill raised an eyebrow "yea?" he asked.

You softly grinned, "Love ya'" you said, then suddenly being interrupted by a yawn. there was silence as your eyes drooped and eventually closed as you fell into a deep slumber.

Boothill stared at your sleeping face, it wasn't exactly surprising that you had said that you loved him. It was just that you didn't say it often, it wasn't that you didn't want to. Boothill's schedule is almost always full, so spending time with him can be hard. A rare soft smile graced his features and he reached over to caress your head.

"I love ya' too, kid." He whispered.

#reader insert #x reader #boothill #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #gender neutral reader #hsr x reader platonic #hsr platonic #platonic relationships #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader platonic #boothill x reader #reader input #gn reader #child reader #teen reader

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