#hsr fantasy au

[gojoidyll]

because i dared to want something

aeon!sunday x fem!reader

"it's ok to want something. though, if you continually put others before yourself, then eventually you'll fall apart. but that's alright. because i will just put you back together."

warnings | fantasy au, slight yandere sunday, death, blood, angst, fluff, manipulation, poorly written fight scenes (maybe), grammatical errors, etc.

part one | because i offer my life

with your family and village riddled in ruins and tragedy, you sought to pray to a broken aeon statue. if the aeon hears you, you aren't sure, but your prayers and hopes are all that you have.

part two | because i hope for a future

when you wake up from your slumber, you feel warm - rejuvenated almost, but you don't know where that sense of relaxation and comfortability came from. in the end, you decided to give the credit to the aeon you prayed to.

part three | because i left something behind

part summary coming soon !!

[slowd1ving]

[INAMORATA] SNIPPET . *࿐ SUNDAY, MOZE, SOMEWHAT JIAOQIU??

more jiaoqiu and moze being a little creep, male incubus reader

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Of course you don’t end up stealing a kiss outside the building—Moze taking the opportunity to clean the bathroom obsessively while buzzing from the liquor, while you walk Jiaoqiu out. 

Of course you don’t mean to, but you’re drunkenly complaining of the professor for your statistics module, and he’s merely gazing. When the sun’s long gone to its slumber—and the only light available is the halo around your head from the flickering streetlamp—who can blame him for the way his eyes drink your pout in, the way he’s getting lost in the way you smell? Menthol cigarettes and something sweeter, something his nose picks up that could be caramel but could also thrum deep in your veins to intoxicate others. 

He cuts you off when it gets too much for him, right when you push your glasses up to continue to ramble comfortably. 

“—every lecture, I swear—mmph—” 

You swear up-and-down you weren’t planning this; you’re taken completely aback as he surges, pressing you up against the rough brick of the building. He’s warm, you think deliriously—with his hand cradling your cheek and his other nestled in the back of the loose pullover you’re wearing, you’re warmer than you’ve been in weeks. 

It’s not desperate, but you can feel the build-up of emotion behind it: taste the cherry on your breath, the tequila on his. Alcohol may have prompted this, but even a fool could savour the heavy yearning on his tongue. 

“Jiaoqiu,” you mumble, but he merely tilts your head, nipping at your slicked lips with an eagerness he only seems to display when it’s the witching hours. He’s shorter than you, yet tonight he’s the one caging you in an inescapable lock—so hungry, so avaricious and naturally, you oblige, raking your hands in his pink hair. 

You taste blood. You taste life as you feel his steady pulse against your body, lust as he groans and melts into your touch, desperation as he entwines his arms around you with the sole goal of pressing himself into you even further. 

You are equally insatiable, gradually feeling the vivid colours flow from his tongue onto your own. 

You are equally gluttonous, but your work isn’t going to finish itself and you’re quite a good demon, if you do say so yourself. 

You are equally voracious, and perhaps completely degenerate, yet still you wistfully and regretfully ease your lips from his—though your hands remain white-hot on his body. 

It’s enough energy to get through the rest of this day and then some. It’ll do. It has to do. 

“I’ll see you at the Film Festival,” he murmurs, but the two of you know the encounter between you both will be sooner—a clandestine encounter between sheets, in fact. 

He’s walking home, so you watch him disappear into the night—and when his small figure is swallowed up in the void space between street lamps, you watch a little while longer. 

Unbeknownst to you, someone else has been watching this entire time too. 

[jerena-arts]

Something for my AU of Snake!Boothill and Fairy!Robin

[aurae-rori]

yeah but what if i wrote a fantasy aventio au where ratio had water magic powers but was also a wandering scholar who could use a sword

yeah but what if i wrote a fantasy aventio au where aventurine can infuse light magic into his daggers and is constantly on the run but also does bounty hunting to scrape by

yeah but what if i wrote a fantasy aventio au where the first chapter starts with ratio walking through the rain to get to his horse so he can continue to travel

yeah but what if i wrote a fantasy aventio au that was a longfic.

yeah but what if i wrote a fantasy aventio au with my own magic system and worldbuilding

yeah. but what if i wrote a fantasy aventio au.

[blauwu]

Fantasy AU of snake!Boothill and fairy!Robin made by @jerena-arts :)

Process under cut

[shuruzy]

this may as well be an AU at this point. what is the au? I dont know.

[hywl]

howlovian

[pixiatn]

Honkai Star Rail au where everything is the same except the characters look more alien like

[windupaymeric]

new emote is cute

[e-plus-ratio]

#YUMETOBER DAY 7: FANTASY

i skipped ahead to be a bit more on track, but also i really loved drawing this prompt 🥺 in a fantasy setting, ratio would be some kind of high elf— mighty, intelligent, proud, likely dabbles in magic. meanwhile eens in this au would be a freshwater mermaid, curious and enchanted by the elven beauty that bathes in the lake she calls home.

[descendinginto-madness]

au idea maybe...

so i started a voidwelt vampire au rp with one person and now i keep thinking about welt in that setting... (it's some fantasy setting idk but like.) historian welt......... that has published several books too...... that also works with restoring old documents and stuff..... maybe march is his adopted daughter in this one. maybe she's also only half human and half fairy or something. who knows!! she doesn't remember it herself, and welt isn't sure.

[heartfeltwarmth]

𝑩𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒗𝒂𝒔 - 𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒕 (𝒂𝒖)

Himeko, a well-respected engineer, is horribly single and March won't have it. During Himeko's stay in town, her young friend sends a painter over to do Himeko's portrait commission to launch her search for a suitor.

Her heels stopped as Himeko's reminiscing stopped short as realization dawned on her. She has given no thought to her courting life whatsoever. Thinking back.... yes.... most of the people she knew have married, maybe had one or two children already... The last doctor she visited; she was talking about her upcoming marriage with her childhood friend as well. Maybe it was just her–Maybe it was just her who neglected love.

Read the rest on AO3 or continue down below :3 (1,701 words)

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

The birds whistling in the trees, their melodies carried through the wind, was the only solace Himeko could find as she paced back and forth in the room.

The engineer sighed which did nothing to alleviate her nerves. Why was she here again??

"What?? An elegant and wonderful woman like you is still single??? Unacceptable!" Himeko grimaced at the memory, of a conversation she had with Miss March 7th a few days ago. Working from a young age, Himeko was quickly recognized as a talent in her field. Being high in demand meant she traveled to many regions, only staying up to a few months at a time before she was called to somewhere else.

Just a few days prior, Himeko had the pleasantry of having a long-awaited tea time with March, a long-time friend she met from one of her travels. The pink-haired maiden was quite chatty but Himeko didn't mind. It was always nice to collect more intel. One topic led to another, and soon March was going off about the various love lives of the people in town, lamenting the lack of her own. "If I were as beautiful as you, I'm absolutely sure I still won't be single today..."

Himeko took a sip of her team and casually hummed in response. "But I've always been single."

"W H A T ? ? ?"

As birds fled the scene and tea split across the tablecloth, Himeko smiled, painfully, full of regret. Wasting no time at all, March packed her things, yelling. "STAY IN TOWN FOR ANOTHER WEEK!! I'LL SEND A PAINTER OVER AND GIVE YOU THE DETAILS LATER. DON'T WORRY I'LL PAAAAAAAAY!!"

Click click.

Her heels stopped as Himeko's reminiscing stopped short as realization dawned on her. She has given no thought to her courting life whatsoever. Thinking back.... yes.... most of the people she knew have married, maybe had one or two children already... The last doctor she visited, she was talking about her upcoming marriage with her childhood friend as well.

Maybe it was just her–

Maybe it was just her who neglected love.

Himeko sighed into her hands. Dropping back into a lounge chair, she pondered whether if this was the right decision. Any moment now, the person who would come paint her portrait would be here. That portrait will then have copies made of it to be distributed to potential suitors. There would be no more backing out of this... Was this what she really wante–

Knock knock knock.

Himeko dashed to the door.

Right before getting the door handle, Himeko brushed a stray hair from her face, hoping she fixed it properly. When she finally swung the door open, she smiled. "Greetings!"

"......."

Himeko blinked. The man in front of her, carrying all sorts of equipment by himself, had his vision blocked by a large empty canvas. "Greetings, miss." Came a somewhat muffled but gentle voice. "I-I must sincerely apologize for keeping you waiting. I'll begin setting up immediately."

"Oh– You are quite alright–" Himeko's smile began to morph into an amused grin. "In fact, here." She reached out and grabbed the canvas from the man so it would no longer obstruct his view and cause an accident. Catching her faint reflection all of a sudden in a pair of glasses, her heart skipped a beat.

Hidden behind the canvas was the warmest smile Himeko had ever seen.

"You're too kind, miss. I'll take the canvas from your hands shortly."

Himeko nodded, afraid that if she spoke her words would stumble.

The brown-haired painter introduced himself as Welt Yang, an acquaintance of March's. Anyone could tell that his gestures and wording were all carefully chosen to make people comfortable around him, a fact that Himeko noticed when she started to feel strangely relaxed around this complete stranger.

As Himeko observed Welt's kit, she felt compelled to ask what each tool did to satiate this newfound curiosity. Ten minutes had passed since she was asked to sit down in a relaxed pose to start the initial sketch. Silence passed between them but Himeko could only concentrate on sitting as still as possible.

"Is there something you'd like to ask, Miss Himeko?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to interrupt your work!"

Welt chuckled as he put another stroke on the canvas then poked his head out from the side to face her. "Nonsense. Getting to interact with you will help me better capture your essence. You can still move slightly."

Fighting back a blush rising to her cheeks, Himeko quietly cleared her throat. "I was just curious about the tools you brought. The ones in the corner of the box. They look like knives?"

"Ah, yes! Those are scrapers, also known as knives." Himeko slightly tilted her head. Welt had suddenly become... much more animated. "There are a variety of uses for them. I mainly use the paint knives to mix or apply a large amount of paint."

Himeko nodded. "I see...! I was wondering if you were also a part-time chef perhaps."

Another series of chuckles came from behind the canvas. "We mustn't waste an ounce of utility. Are you a cook, Miss Himeko?"

"I'm an engineer, mostly,,,"

"Mostly?"

Himeko cleared her throat once more. Why was she getting all shy for? "I say mostly because... I like to dabble in inventing here and there."

The scratching on the canvas stopped and Welt turned to fully face the red-haired woman. Himeko could have sworn his eyes were sparkling. "Inventing, you say? How wonderful! Please, do tell me more. Talk my ear off."

The giggle she had tried to suppress before escaped. Himeko had a few minutes to explain one of her latest experiments before they had to close the session due to the decreasing sunlight. Promising that she would divulge more details tomorrow, Welt said his goodbyes.

The next day was about the same. Coming in a bit earlier to take advantage of the natural daylight, or so Himeko believed to be Welt's reasoning, the friendly banter they had every day to pass the time put a genuine joy in Himeko's heart. Even people who had worked with her had never been as attentive a listener as the painter. As many questions she asked him, he would ask just as many in return. There were even times Himeko had talked will her mouth went dry, something that didn't go unnoticed by Welt who would pour them both a cup of tea.

"I'm much more of a coffee person, I just never said anything."

"Wh– I– Miss Himeko! You should have told me..."

She giggled but placed the empty tea cup on the table next to her. It was the last day and the painting was almost finished. All they had to do was finish up some of the last details before the painting would be sent out to be copied. It was too bad... She was just starting to get used to this but it wasn't like she was going to be staying for long anyway.

"Ah. If you could please stay still for this. The light is hitting your eyes just right and I want to adjust the painting a bit." Welt had a look of serious concentration on his face as he matched the colors as best as he could to the real-life beauty. Doing as the painter requested, Himeko relaxed her shoulders and stayed in place.

Just then, a piece of hair fell in front of her face.

"Oh– I'm sorry–"

With a reassuring smile, Welt waved at her. "It's not a problem. If you'll allow me, I'll move it for you."

Himeko really froze this time. "O-Of course."

As his steps neared, the pounding inside her chest grew louder. Ducking down to carefully adjust the stray lock, Welt lightly used his pinky and ring finger to lift it away from Himeko's face, making sure it would not fall again and hide her eyes from the light of the midday sun streaming through the glass window panes. "......."

"Um– Mister Welt?"

"Hm? Ah! Yes! I-It's all fine now. Is it comfortable?"

"......." Himeko pondered for a moment, looking at the painter from below. His amber gaze was as warm as ever. "I think... it needs to be brushed back a little more."

"Understood."

He runs the same two fingers atop her ear on the side of her head, making sure to rid Himeko of any discomfort, before straightening up again. "I hope that's better."

"Yes, thank you." Himeko smiled. For some reason, Welt's steps back to his seat were a bit stiffer than before. A few more minutes passed and the painter put down his brush. Yet, he stayed still.

Himeko, who was sure he was done, got up from her chair with a look of concern. "Is everything alright?" There was a mumble, but she couldn't pick up much more than that so she walked over to his side. "I didn't quite catch that– My apologies, what were you saying?"

There was a pained look on his face that would have been hard to detect if she had not walked over. "Miss Himeko, you'd find me ridiculous for saying this but..." He looked up to peer into her eyes. "A part of me does not want to send the painting."

Just like on the first day, Himeko's heart skipped a beat.

"A-Actually, I don't want to at all. But please forgive me for being so presumptuous, Miss Himeko– I know you must have this painting sent out to–"

Himeko shook her head, making Welt's eyes widen in surprise. "You don't... have to..."

The woman's heart was no longer racing alone now.

"In fact, you can keep it..." What was she saying??? But Himeko could not regret any of her words. Not when he was smiling like that again.

"Say, Miss Himeko. Where were you going next?"

"Hmm? Me? I was planning to go to Xianzhou."

Welt stood up and looking a bit bashful, cleared his throat before he made a request. "Let's do another painting there."

So... he wanted to come along with her.

Himeko grinned as she went in for a hug, giggling when she heard him gasp in surprise.

"Let's order you a ticket then."

[slowd1ving]

[INAMORATA] SNIPPET . *࿐ SUNDAY, MOZE, SOMEWHAT JIAOQIU??

for some additional context reader is an incubus and also joined a class on catching/apprehending monsters in the modern world as a joke, but now is doing a project on said monsters (cough, incubi) thus is in a really fucking awkward position rn anyways this will probably be the last snippet before I actually post the work so enjoyy

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

“…edit it documentary style. It’s professional, organised, and will suit the Professor’s tastes.” Sunday’s mellifluous voice washes over you as you sit in the campus library with your classmates, desperately trying to look engaged. 

It does not work. 

Sunday’s fountain pen wavers in the air and turns on you, and your heart jolts and skips past a few beats—it looks far too close to a weapon for your liking, and you would not trust an angel with a dagger for the life of you. Or without the dagger. He does not inch it closer, but it’s rather an unconscious mirroring of his thinking that betrays that he’s about to scold you for falling asleep. You’re thankful for the table that separates the two of you, but you fear wood can only do so much to counter flames of divine punishment. 

But before he can lecture you, Moze beats him to it. And for the record, you don’t know how he ended up sitting right next to you, and you’d like to complain. 

Leaning across his chair, he gets unnecessarily close to talk to you, and it’s not like whatever he’s saying is important. 

“Do you have anything to add—” and here his leg ghosts up against yours, but you don’t flinch. At least, you don’t think you do. “—or did you not get enough sleep last night?”

His voice is low—enough that there’s an undercurrent of tension without him even trying. You choose not to reply directly to him; instead, you look at Sunday once more, and you swear you feel a spike of irritation from the angel. But, surely not, right?

Mulling your words over, you carefully select a sequence that won’t land you a one-way ticket back to hell. There’s a certain trick to this, you see—and that’s crossing your fingers and thinking of an escape plan in the event you fail, or the shameless cowardly demon approach. It may not land you a spot among the Lieutenants, but it sure is better than being skewered by some angel. 

Especially one named Sunday. You disguise your grimace. 

“Uhh,” you wrack your brains, before settling on the first thing your mind falls upon—yesterday night, all cozied up with Jiaoqiu. Fuck. “A horror movie.”

You can feel Moze’s stare burn into dermis, sizzle a bit, then singe your very bones.

“That’s an— unconventional idea,” Sunday coughs, and you remind yourself that angels are way meaner than you’d expect. 

“If you think it’s ill-founded, then I would like to remind you our professor’s maturity doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll enjoy an orthodox style,” you argue, suddenly remembering that angels are also ill-suited for debates and ‘gotchas’, and also that incubi can honey their tongue to saccharine degree.

Fuck. You’ve really spent too much time in the human realm. 

Before Sunday can get a word in, you keep talking, desperate to look enthusiastic to discuss incubi and possibly give yourself away. “If it’s being entered into the Film Festival, a mockumentary or a horror film could be both informative and entertaining. Or even a silent film.”

“It’s succubi and incubi,” Moze mutters. “If there were more people I’d bet there’d be one group submitting porn.”

You stifle a cough, but you don’t think you did it well. 

“What, with Hopkins as the intended audience?” you glance at him, and see the traces of laughter on his mouth, and suddenly your own feels somewhat dry. Just a little. 

“Yeah, imagine,” he matches your airy tone—and the proximity forces your heart to lapse. Just a little. 

Sunday’s glare bores into both of you. “Can the two of you take this seriously? We are absolutely not doing that.”

If you ever forgot he was an angel, this is a poignant reminder. Should you squint, you think you can see a faint halo around his head, but that could also honestly just be the library light causing the incandescence. 

“Yes, which is why we should do horror or a mockumentary,” you interrupt. This is the only fight you’d ever attempt with an angel, and boy do you deserve a medal for it like the humans do. “The topic isn’t particularly… uh… safe for work, so horror would convey the right message that we investigate in each class, while still having space for detail. Think something like found footage horror films or something.”

“You raise a good point,” Sunday deliberates—if there was anything good to say about angels, it would be that they are gracious with their concessions. Some concessions. “Fine.”

Fine. 

Fine.

Fine. 

With glee, you save the moment to brag about when you next visit downstairs. I got an angel to agree with me. 

But simultaneously, you compose your face, knowing the next item on the agenda will inevitably be the very topic of the proposal. 

Suddenly, you no longer feel the glee of just a minute ago. 

Oh shit. 

[rowan-shadowblight]

"Long time no see! Having fun on Penacony?"

[aurae-rori]

so i was cooking, as i usually do

i have no others ideas but this one scene in mind so tumblr has to hear about it now

"hey!" with a jab, "what should i call you!"

"veritas!" he dodges aventurine's strike, "and you?"

"aventurine!" and he then tries to chop ratio's head off

excellent first meeting guys trust

[ofglories]

I should one day make a proper post explaining Emrys' natural resistance to poisons since it's not quite immunity but it's damn near close. But the problem is I don't know if I should connect it to his dragon blood or the star...