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corruptedroses · 2 years ago

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— Glory, glory what a hell of a way to die

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Fandom — Honkai Star Rail Pairing — Svarog/fem! reader (no pronouns used) Summary — One thing may not fit, but there are other things that can Content Warnings — fingering, size difference, robosex, dirty talk (badly), photographed during sex (pls I promise it makes sense) Word Count — 1,085 Author's note — inspired by this image, to be cross posted on ao3. I'm just horny

@teabreakpancakes

“My copulatory appendage is the size of your thigh.”

Your face burned in shock as Svarog spoke his findings, sitting across from you as if it were any conversation about things such as the weather, or maybe the situation with Clara. But no, this man — robot — had just informed you that his penis was the size of your thigh, and looking down at them, your cup rested on top of your right one between your hands, you knew that was no easy feat.

Yeah, that thing probably couldn’t fit inside of you— “I could take it.” The words came flying out of your mouth before you could even think of stopping them, feeling as your throat closed in on itself far too late. The lens of his eye flickered. “Did you just take a picture?”

“Affirmative.”

Your face buried further into your hands, ears burning with heat as you shook with laughter. Of course he would take a photo of something like this, it was something that he would want to remember, want to bring up in conversation when he wishes to disregard something, but yet you heard his whirling, peeking through your fingers to stare at the red dot that was his eye.

“Analysing…” the robot started, your hands slowly coming down to rest back on your lap again. What was there to analyse? What was there to even look at when he couldn’t even fit his co— “analysing complete.” Knocked out of your thoughts by the robot as he leaned forward, you knew that if he could breathe, it would fan over the entirety of your face at this point, especially as he raised a hand to your cheek, almost seeming to be measuring the size of his palm to your face. “While my phallus may not fit you,” oh god, you didn’t want him to use phallus again, “my fingers can, it will, however, be a tight fit.”

As his fingers came to show themselves in front of your face, wide and thick, you blinked once, twice.

“I can work with that.”

It had taken some liquid courage and a few minutes checking that Clara wasn’t home before you found yourself on the robot’s thigh, your fingers bunched in his coat as his fingers slowly worked you open. He had been right about them being a tight fit as not only was one finger inside of you enough to make a tight squeeze but two was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling as he eased them in. Even with your slickness, even with lube, it was strange and so very cold as he slowly eased them in and out of your hole.

“Your blood pressure is elevated.” The robot said, able to feel your pulse through your throbbing, aching cunt as he teased your walls, dragging the warming metal across your insides. You were unable to speak, on the other hand, your fingers flexing against the fabric of his coat as you softly mewled and whined. It was so good, you felt so full.

His thigh pushed upwards, pushing his fingers further into you with a gasp. A flicker of his lens was made.

“You look attractive like this.” If you were of the sound mind, you would’ve taken the moment to realise that it had been an attempt of flirting, though his thumb made its way to your neglected clit, sampling some of your slick as he massaged the needy bud. “Do you enjoy this?”

“Svarog…” You barely were able to mutter, eyes squeezing shut as you melted into his hand, “keep doing that. Good.”

“Affirmative.” Even if he was a robot that required no need for sexual intercourse, you couldn’t help but note at the way he held you, almost experimental, even as he had two of his thick, long, cold fingers deep within your cunt. Every gasp, every whine, every moan that sent your face rolling forth into the fur of his jacket, they were all saved into his memory bank, all of them saved into a little folder so deep inside that it would take weeks, months to find if anyone were to compromise him. He wanted to draw out those little moans, those little whines, they were enough to send his circuits into overdrive, especially when you would call his name.

Was this what humans craved, to have someone under their submission? Svarog could only stare down at you, taking photo after photo, video after video, especially where you sat on his fingers, dirtying his metal with your sinful, lewd juices. He wanted to have this imprinted in his memory bank forever, to see you drooling, cross eyed, gasping his name.

“Do you like this?” A long dormant part of his circuit awakened, a massaging feature that a scientist had installed for long nights in the lab turned into something more sinful as he felt his thumb begin to vibrate, those low, soft moans and gasps becoming higher pitched, feeling the way you clenched around his fingers. He didn’t need an answer, even as you tilted your head back, your hips beginning to grind down on his hand.

Your heart, your pulse, it was beating faster and faster, able to hear the way it pounded in your chest as you grinded, you circled your hips, you pressed your throbbing clit against his vibrating finger. More, more, humans always wanted more, he would give you more.

He would throw you off the bouts of pleasure if it meant seeing your face, your body, contort into this pleasure over and over, skin slickened with sweat.

His free hand, the one that had rested against your spine the entire time, slowly slinked its way up your shirt, cold fingers brushing against hardened nipples that pebbled under his touch. Pinching one, he heard the way you whined, hips stuttering to a halt as you twitched and groaned, your cunt clenching around his fingers so tight like a vice as you squirted all over him.

Mission accomplished.

Slowly beginning to pull his fingers out of you, watching you gasp and whimper, his calculations saw this being the end, saw this being the only time line that could exist. But you were an anomaly in his data, especially as you stared him directly in the eye, still heaving in gulps of air as you kept a hand on his wrist, pushing his fingers back inside.

“We’re not stopping until you will fit inside me.”

Another photo saved to his memory bank.

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toshisdecadence · 22 days ago

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ERROR 404: Overload!

PAIRING: svarog x mechanic!fem reader

TAGS & WARNINGS: dark content, dubcon (reader says it’s too much but svarog has a mission to collect data), rough sex, multiple rounds, dom!svarog, sub!fem reader, svarog is Massive, cervix mentions, tummy bulge descriptions, multiple rounds, overstimulation, size difference, power dynamics, size kink, fingering, unrealistic sex, robot fuckers unite!, can you tell i have a size kink?

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

SUMMARY: You discover the reason why Svarog wears pants.

The repair bay smelled faintly of heated metal, coolant fluid, and faint traces of alcohol—a sharp tang that clung to the sterile air. You barely noticed it anymore, accustomed to the hum of machinery and the faint vibration of tools against metal. But today, that hum was louder, and the vibrations sharper, emanating not from your usual repair work but from the massive, battle-worn war machine sitting across from you.

Svarog loomed over the room, his 8’11 frame too large for the reinforced chair you’d hastily reinforced when he arrived. His joints hissed faintly, micro-servos struggling to compensate for the damage he’d sustained during the Wardance duel against Luka earlier that day. Faint dents marred his reinforced dark blue chest plating, and faint sparks sputtered from the exposed wiring along his arm.

You reached for your tools, hyper-aware of the pinkish-red glow of his cyclopean optical sensor tracking your every movement.

“Superficial damage sustained. Functionality remains above 90%. Repairs are non-essential.” His voice rumbled, a deep, mechanical timbre that sent a shiver up your spine.

You regarded him critically. “Non-essential? Your vents are overheating, and you’re rattling like a dying starship. Sit still and let me work.”

He didn’t argue. Svarog was nothing if not logical, and logic dictated that he allow himself to be repaired. Still, there was a tension to him, a stiffness beyond the rigid design of his armor. He didn’t like being examined, didn’t like lowering his guard to anyone else other than Clara, even in the hands of someone who statistically meant him no harm or stood a chance against him.

You stepped closer, tools in hand, and gently pressed against the plating on his shoulder. His frame vibrated under your touch, a subtle hum you might have missed if you hadn’t been so close.

“Core temperature stable,” he intoned. “Subsystems fully operational.”

“Your fans tell a different story,” you muttered, running diagnostics through a handheld scanner. “You’re burning hotter than you should be.”

Svarog didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his pinkish-red optic watching your hands as they worked, tracking each movement with the precision of an apex predator. The thought sent an odd warmth through your body, and you tried to shake it off.

You needed to focus.

The repairs took you lower, inspecting the dents along his torso plating. The main brunt of the damage he took from Luka’s mechanical arm focused around his torso. One of the seams had split, exposing a layer of reinforced polymer beneath the outer shell. Carefully, you reached for the damaged panel, fingers brushing against the edge of the pants covering his lower half—an unusual addition for a machine built for combat, and one that always raised questions in your mind.

You tugged lightly at the material, intending only to check the joints underneath, but your fingers brushed against something unexpected beneath the fabric.

Your breath hitched.

The surface wasn’t the cold hardness of metal or the pliable texture of synthetic padding. It was smooth, warm, and distinctly… organic in shape.

You froze, pulling your hand back as though burned.

His optic dimmed slightly in a flicker that you’d come to recognize as his equivalent of a blink.

You swallowed down the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, gesturing vaguely at his lower half, struggling to form the words.

Svarog tilted his head, the motion eerily human. “This component was included in my original design for biological infiltration protocols.”

You stared at him as if he grew a second head. “Biological… infiltration?”

“My model is the third series of the Monitoring Automaton Prototype, engineered to simulate human anatomy. The purpose was strategic manipulation through intimate interactions if required by mission parameters.”

Your throat felt dryer, and the question that left your mouth sounded ridiculous even to you. “You’re telling me someone thought it’d be a good idea to put a dick on a war machine?”

“Affirmative.”

His voice remained perfectly calm, but your face was burning. A sneaky glance at his lower half rendered you speechless once again. Whoever designed Svarog certainly made his… appendage proportional to his hulking body.

You tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out strained. “And… what? You’ve just been...” You made an awkward gesture with your hand, “carrying it around this whole time?”

“Correct. The feature has never been activated.”

He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, and somehow that made it worse.

You stared at him in disbelief. “Do you even know how it works?”

Svarog paused, the glow of his optic focusing intently on you. It flickered momentarily.

“My systems include theoretical data on function and compatibility. However, no practical demonstrations have been performed.”

The room felt hotter suddenly, and you were certain that it wasn’t because of Svarog’s malfunctioning fans. Your mind raced with countless possibilities. Given Svarog’s size, you weren’t even sure how anyone was supposed to take that. Did it have a shrinking feature? Did it automatically adjust with Svarog’s… partner?

You swallowed, trying to steer the conversation back to something technical and banish the questions swirling in your head.

“Right,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “Well, let’s make sure you don’t explode first. Then we’ll worry about your…” Your traitorous gaze flickered down again, swallowing, “attachments.”

You regretted the words the second they left your mouth. Svarog’s optic dimmed again, and he shifted in his seat with a faint creak of metal.

“Acknowledged.”

You groaned internally and forced yourself to focus, pulling open the next panel and reaching in to check his sensor nodes. But you couldn’t help the way your mind kept wandering—to the warm, flexible material hidden underneath that fabric. Whoever invented Svarog’s model was an absolute pervert and lunatic, you thought to yourself. A war machine equipped with a dick? You still could not wrap your head around it. To the way Svarog had described it so matter-of-factly, like it was just another tool in his arsenal.

And yet… the tension in his frame, the way his systems overcompensated whenever you touched him, those weren’t reactions you’d expect from a simple machine.

Your hands hovered above the exposed sensor nodes, still adjusting the connections, but your thoughts were no longer entirely focused on the task at hand.

It was impossible to ignore the strange electric tension in the air between you and Svarog. Every time your fingers brushed against his cooling panels or adjusted a wiring interface, you felt it—the subtle hum of his systems, almost like a heartbeat. Or maybe it was just the increasing proximity to his form, which felt more real with every touch, even if you knew he wasn’t alive in the traditional sense.

The heat beneath his outer plating felt too organic, too alive. The warmth spread further with each subtle shift of his hulking frame as you adjusted his internals, a mechanical symphony of soft clicks and hums that made your breath catch in your throat.

This was nothing like the Intellitrons.

You had worked with hundreds to thousands of them over the years, and each time it had been the same routine: simple diagnostics, quick fixes, nothing too complicated. They were built for efficiency, cold efficiency. Their systems were bare-bones, nothing more than a body of metal and circuits with only the basic instincts to follow commands.

But Svarog…

He was different. Complex. His systems, his body—everything about him screamed intricacy and human-like design. A part of you resigned yourself to further look into Svarog’s specific model. Perhaps it was time to take a deeper look into Belobogian technology. Even the way Svarog’s body responded to your touch felt foreign. He was more than just a machine, wasn’t he? He wasn’t just a war machine, a combat tool; there was something underneath, something untapped, a feature of his yet to be understood.

And that thought… that burning curiosity clawed at you.

You’d always prided yourself on being a mechanic. You understood machines, systems, the cold logic of how things worked. But Svarog wasn’t cold. Wasn’t simple. The way his body responded to your movements, the imperceptible shifts in his temperature, the faint, almost unnoticeable changes in his posture whenever your fingers brushed too close to certain sensitive spots—all of it made you wonder.

What if I pushed him further?

A thought you could barely even process, but it lingered, stubborn. The daring curiosity that ran deep within you as a mechanic—was this not what you lived for? To understand the unknown, to push the limits of what could be fixed, adjusted, modified? Svarog’s design wasn’t just mechanical, it felt like a puzzle you couldn’t quite solve, like a language you only understood in fragments.

Your hands moved to reconnect a set of wires, but you barely felt the tools in your grip. The warmth from his frame was distracting, constantly pulling your focus away from the task at hand.

You set your tools down with a sharp click, exhaling as you leaned back from Svarog’s towering frame. The repairs were done. Functionally complete. His damaged plating had been reinforced, circuits reconnected, and his sensor nodes recalibrated. Everything checked out.

Or at least, it should have felt finished.

But you lingered.

Your gaze swept over him again, tracing the seams of his armor and the smooth lines of his construction. Svarog wasn’t like the Intellitrons. His design was deliberate. Every joint, every harsh angle of his frame, was crafted with an almost human elegance that made your brain stutter every time you tried to compare him to standard machinery. Even the sections hidden beneath his plating—the ones you briefly glimpsed while making repairs—were unnervingly realistic in their precision.

And then there were the features he’d kept covered.

You dragged your gaze back to his waist, to the reinforced plating that remained stubbornly intact throughout the repairs. That section.

You hadn’t needed to touch it, hadn’t even dared to ask about it again, but the shape and positioning had made it impossible not to notice. That, combined with the suspicious necessity of his pants, had left your mind spiraling with questions you couldn’t shake.

Why go to such lengths to simulate humanity in that area?

You knew you shouldn’t care. You were a mechanic. Curiosity was natural. It came with the job. But no matter how many times you tried to frame it as a purely technical interest, your pulse told you otherwise.

It wasn’t just simple curiosity. It was a fixation.

You reached out, under the pretense of double-checking one of his sensor-nodes, but your fingers hesitated. You could feel the faint hum of his systems through the plating, steady and constant, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack, it made the room feel smaller, like the two of you were occupying too much space at once.

“You are hesitating,” Svarog declared suddenly, his mechanical voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

You froze, pulling your hand back like you’d been caught committing a crime. “No, I was just making sure everything’s—”

“False,” he interrupted. His optic seemed red as it regarded you. “Your behavior has deviated from standard patterns. Focus is inconsistent. Eye movement suggests distraction.”

You swallowed hard, heat rushing to your face. Svarog wasn’t wrong, and worse, he wasn’t letting it go.

“Your gaze has returned to my lower half multiple times,” he continued, his tone as flat as ever. “Body temperature elevated by 15.3 percent. Heart rate increased. These patterns suggest heightened interest.”

You felt your stomach flip as he laid out your reactions like cold, hard data. And yet, his voice was so mechanical, so calm and detached, that it made the weight of your embarrassment feel even heavier.

“I can conclude the source of your distraction,” Svarog added. “You are exhibiting curiosity regarding the anatomical structure concealed beneath my armor.”

You didn’t know whether to flat out deny it or run out of the room entirely. Neither option felt viable. At least, not with him towering over you like that, unflinching, his glowing optics locked onto your every move.

“I—no, it’s not like that,” you stammered, even though you knew it was exactly like that.

“Your biological responses contradict your statement,” he said simply. “You are aware of the human-like components integrated into my design. Your fixation suggests a desire to understand their functionality.”

Your breath hitched. The words functionality and components should have grounded you. It should have made this situation feel as clinical as he seemed to think it was. But instead, they only fueled the heat already curling in your stomach.

Because Svarog was right.

You wanted to know—aeons, you’ve been dying to know—how far his human design extended. And now that the repairs were done, now that he’d laid the truth bare, it felt impossible to stop.

“You are not the first to display interest in this feature,” Svarog continued, as though he were listing out schematics. “However, prior inquiries did not progress past verbal questioning. You are demonstrating physical tension indicative of deeper investigation.”

Your throat felt dryer than the desert.

“I propose a solution,” Svarog said, tilting his head slightly. “Controlled exploration. Further data on synthetic anatomy is limited. Your curiosity provides an opportunity for analysis and documentation.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He wasn’t joking. He couldn’t joke.

“You are suggesting we… test this?”

“Correct.”

His lack of hesitation made your pulse stutter. He saw this as a logical step, nothing more than a means to gather data, and yet, the way his frame loomed over you, the hum of his systems almost vibrating through the air, felt anything but detached.

“Decision required,” Svarog said after a beat. “Proceed with testing, or terminate this interaction?”

Your body betrayed you before your mind could catch up.

“Proceed,” you said softly.

His optics flared slightly—almost imperceptibly—before he nodded.

“Acknowledged. Experiment initiated.”

Svarog wasn’t designed to rush.

He worked methodically, his plated fingers tracing along your thighs—testing, measuring, pressing into the soft flesh as though assessing the tensile strength of your muscles. Assessing how much you could take.

“Body temperature elevated by 1.8 degrees,” he noted, his optics narrowing slightly. “Pulse irregular. Predictive analysis suggests heightened arousal.”

You whimpered as his thick mechanical fingers dipped lower, sliding between your legs without hesitation. He brushed against your heat, deliberately testing the slickness already building there.

“Lubrication present,” he said. “Preliminary preparation observed. Additional stimulation required.”

You barely had any time to register his words before his thumb pressed against your clit. The motion was slow, deliberate, grinding down just enough to make your thighs tremble.

Too much.

The smoothness of his plating, the slight hum of his servos adjusting with every movement, left you aching almost instantly. He applied more pressure, adjusting the angle like he was calibrating the motion for maximum effect.

You gasped, hips jerking against him instinctively, and Svarog’s optics dimmed.

“Response strength at 63 percent,” he observed. “Testing deeper penetration.”

You bit back a cry as his fingers slipped inside. Thick, unyielding, and cool against your heat. He stretched you slowly, adding another finger almost immediately, pushing past the tight resistance with clinical focus.

“Muscle tension detected,” he said, his thumb circling the erect pearl of your clit again as his fingers curled inside of you. “Adjusting pressure.”

You whimpered as he spread his fingers, stretching you wider until the ache blurred into something hotter, sharper.

“Elasticity improving,” he noted, tilting his head as he pressed deeper. “Lubrication increased by 24 percent.”

You clenched around him, your gummy walls struggling to accommodate the deliberate stretch, and Svarog’s optics flickered.

“Resistance still measurable,” he said, slowing his movements. “Further preparation required.”

Your head was spinning by the time he added a third finger, the burn almost too much, but Svarog didn’t falter. His fingers moved with precise rhythm, pumping and curling until the tension broke, and your body melted around him.

Svarog’s mechanical fingers lingered inside you, coated in slickness as he worked them deeper—pressing, stretching, curling with deliberate precision. His thumb dragged slow, circular patterns over your clit, the rhythm steady enough to make your hips jolt against him in a helpless, uncontrollable reaction.

“Muscle tension improving,” he observed. “Current dilation at 73 percent. Additional preparation recommended.”

His tone was calm, detached, but the way his optics dimmed as he watched your thighs trembling betrayed something deeper. He pressed in further, adding another finger. Thicker. Unyielding. Enough to force a sharp gasp to tumble out of your throat.

The burn was too much and not enough all at once, your body clenching down against the stretch even as your legs fell further apart under his firm grip.

You could feel yourself dripping, already struggling to take his fingers, but Svarog didn’t falter. He spread them wider, deliberately testing your limits, and the ache left you clawing at his arm, nails scraping helplessly against smooth plating.

“Elasticity increased by 18 percent,” he said, pulling his fingers free with a lewd, wet squelch that made your breath hitch and your cheeks burn. He inspected the slick coating his fingers before tilting his head slightly. “Sufficient for insertion.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before you heard the sound of fabric rustling. Your eyes widened as he was lining up, the thick, mechanical weight of his massive cock pressing against your sopping entrance and making your stomach twist with a sharp mix of anticipation and fear. His cock contrasted the rest of his metallic body, covered by a synthetic material that seemed to emulate the sensation of skin.

“Size differential detected,” Svarog noted, palming your thigh to angle your hips upward. “Accommodating size will result in initial resistance.”

You bit back a cry as he pushed forward, the broad, blunted tip spreading you open with agonizing slowness. The pain is sharp, your walls pulsing and struggling to accommodate him even after the preparation.

Too big.

The words barely formed in your mind before the pressure stole the thought away entirely. You gasped sharply, arching as he forced himself deeper, the stretch too much—burning, tearing, making your legs shake uncontrollably.

Svarog’s grip on your hips tightened as he paused, allowing you a brief moment of reprieve to adjust, but as his optics flickered, scanning the trembling of your muscles and the fluttering of your gummy walls around him.

“Pain response detected. Estimating threshold at 62 percent.”

You cried out as his hands tilted your hips. You were barely able to breathe as he pressed further, the new angle forcing him deeper into your cunt, and your stomach twisted as you felt it. His cock bullied its way in, the meaty girth of his shaft forcing you wider and wider until you swore you could feel it pressing against everything, imprinting his shape inside of you.

Too much. Too deep.

Tears welled in your eyes as your body struggled to take him, your hands scrabbling against his frame, fingers digging uselessly into unmoving steel.

Svarog’s hand pressed against your stomach, his thumb grazing the prominent bulge already forming there.

“Internal displacement observed,” he said, pushing down slightly to feel the way his massive cock shifted inside of you. The sensation earned a quiver of your legs, the pressure in between your legs rendering you unable to utter a coherent sentence. “Pressure response increasing. Adapting angle.”

Your head fell back with a guttural cry as he adjusted, pressing even deeper, his thumb brushing over the bulge experimentally while he thrust deeper, the bulge in your stomach shifting with him. It felt like the wind was knocked out of your lungs. Your lips fell open in a silent cry, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your body clenched down hard, pulsing and fluttering, struggling against the size, and Svarog stilled.

“Involuntary constriction detected,” he said, his optics dimming slightly.

His free hand reached up, spreading your thighs wider, and he began to move.

Slow, deliberate thrusts that forced you to feel every excruciating inch of him.

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

All you could do was feel—the stretch, the ache, the grinding pressure of him bottoming out inside you again and again and again. The bulge in your stomach shifted with every thrust, a visible reminder of just how deep he was, how much he was filling you.

Svarog’s optics glowed faintly as he observed you, his gaze calculating and unwavering as your body trembled beneath him. Each shallow breath you took, each gasp for air as his cock pressed deeper, he noted, analyzing the involuntary way your body gripped him, how your muscles fluttered around him with every thrust.

“Heart rate accelerating. Muscular tension increasing. Increased stimulation evident.”

He could see the way your body reacted. How your hands clenched, how your thighs shook, how the bulge in your stomach shifted with each deep push, marking the extent to which he had filled you. He watched the way your chest heaved, the way your pupils dilated with every inch of him that stretched you wider, deeper, further than you ever thought possible.

You were on the brink of breaking, the tension in your body growing unbearable as your mouth opened in a silent scream, unable to keep up with the onslaught of sensations. Your body, desperate for more and yet unable to fully handle what was happening, was his to command, and he couldn’t help but watch in quiet fascination as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure.

You were becoming dumber. So much of you just couldn’t function anymore. You were speechless, unable to utter a coherent sentence, broken down by the intensity of his cock fucking its way into you, and the way you melted against him was nothing short of fascinating. Your voice was lost to you, your thoughts clouded by raw sensation, but the pleasure you felt was clear. It was painted across every quiver of your body, the sheen of beaded sweat lining your face and neck, in the strained arch of your back, the desperate shuddering of your limbs.

He could hear the soft whimpering sounds, could see the way your face twisted with both pain and pleasure, and his own systems hummed with the data flooding his internal logs. Every reaction of yours was so genuine, so untouched by reason. It was an anomaly he had never experienced.

Svarog’s mechanical frame moved with precision, his movements controlled and deliberate. His systems hummed as he observed you, his optics tracking every microexpression, every shuddering breath as you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming size that filled you.

He didn’t feel pleasure. He didn’t need it, not the way you did. But the reactions you were giving him—the way your body trembled, the way your walls spasmed around him—were intriguing, data points he had yet to fully understand.

“Subject’s body reacting to size discrepancy. Estimated stretch threshold surpassed.”

Your hands were clutching at him, your fingers slipping over his cool metal plating, desperately trying to find purchase. Your tight walls clung to him as though your body was doing everything it could to resist the sensation, even though it was now obvious that you couldn’t fight it. Your body was becoming swallowed by him, opening wide to accommodate what it was never meant to handle.

Svarog’s movement’s never faltered, his thrusts measured and precise, studying you as your body began to react involuntarily. Your walls spasmed around him, tighter and tighter, almost as though your body was trying to pull him deeper despite the overwhelming stretch.

“Subject’s body is exhibiting signs of imminent climax. Response timing has been measured.”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Your entire body stiffed, an involuntary shudder running through you as every nerve seemed to light up at once. Your vision blurred, the sounds of your ragged breathing filling your ears, mixing with the overwhelming sensation of being stretched beyond belief. Your walls contracted and released rapidly, the pressure inside you finally exploding, and you cried out his name, the world barely a whisper between gasps.

The release sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and Svarog could see it. How your body trembled, how your legs locked around his waist, pulling him even deeper—if that was even possible. You were speechless, your mind blank as your body convulsed in ecstasy, your insides gripping him with a tightness that was almost painful.

“Subject has achieved climax. Response exceeds expectations.”

Your breaths came in desperate, uncoordinated gasps as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, and your body was left quivering, unable to do anything but absorb the aftershocks of your mind-numbing release. Your thighs quivered, feeling your cum trickling down your skin, staining his metal plating.

Svarog, ever the observer, did not stop. He noted the way your body reacted to each of his thrusts, the way your tummy bulged with each movement, the way your warm walls clamped down involuntarily as you tried to regain control of your senses.

Despite the fact that Svarog himself could not feel pleasure, there was something undeniably fascinating about the way you came undone beneath him, your body fighting for control even as it surrendered entirely to him.

He continued moving inside you, his mechanical precision relentless, watching as you flinched with each motion, your body too sensitive now to handle it. Your hands, still pawing weakly at his arms, combined with your whimpered protests of it being too much, were growing weaker, and the sensations were too much for you to bear, but still, he kept going—his own curiosity driving him. He wanted to see how much more you could take, how much more your body could endure before it reached its limit.

You were still trembling, still catching your breath, your mind scattered and lost in the aftereffects of your climax. He could see your skin shimmering with sweat, your breasts rising and falling, the way your hips thrusted up to meet his even though you were lost in the throes of overstimulation.

“Subject remains responsive despite signs of fatigue,” he observed. “Data indicates further analysis needed.”

You were so tight, so overstimulated, and yet your body responded again as though it couldn’t stop itself. Another surge of pleasure crashed through you, pulling another, more broken moan from your lips. It was overwhelming, too much, but your body needed it, responding in ways that only deepened his analysis of the situation.

Svarog’s focus didn’t waver. He watched as your body shook with every movement, your legs quivering with the strain of accommodating him, and still, he continued, his thrusts growing deeper, more relentless. His fingers dug into your hips, hard enough to leave litters of bruises that resembled the shade of his metal plating, holding you in place, using your body as a tool for his data collection.

He could see the way you reacted to the sensations, your face contorting in a combination of pain and pleasure, your eyes wide and unfocused, the way your mouth parted as though you couldn’t form any coherent words. Your body had become nothing but a series of responses, unable to control the way you moved or how you moaned, each sound increasing in volume and intensity as he continued to jackhammer into you.

Your stomach bulged from the pressure, each thrust deepening the curve, showing just how much of him you were struggling to take. Your body was so small, so delicate compared to his design—a machine of war—and yet it was somehow adjusting, somehow taking him all the way in, and with each inch he could see your entire body shift, your muscles trembling, walls contracting and clenching around him.

Svarog observed with detachment, but a small part of him couldn’t ignore how your body seemed to respond, how the very tightness of your searingly hot walls seemed to tug at him, pull him deeper as though it wanted to trap him there—needed him to stay there. The way you trembled beneath him, struggling to remain grounded as your body was filled with something so vast compared to your form. He noted how your skin glistened, how you arch your back, trying to take more of him, trying your damned best to accommodate his size.

Svarog noted how you were losing coherence, your once-clear expression now a mess of uncontrollable need, your eyes glazing over as you gave in to the rhythm he set. He couldn’t deny the way your body seemed to yearn for more, even as you struggled with the sheer size of him.

The final stretch was the worst for you, and the best for him—he felt your body grip him, squeezing him impossibly tight as he buried himself to the hilt. This earned a strained sob from your lips. Your stomach bulged more than ever before, a visual testament to just how much of him you had taken, how far he had pushed you. He could see your body tremble, your limbs shaking, your quivering lips gasping for breath.

Yet, even as your body was on the edge, unraveling beneath him, Svarog did not stop. The data was still incomplete. He needed more. He needed to see how much you could endure, how much pleasure your body could take from the sheer act of him pounding into you.

And so, he continued, calculating the rhythms, watching as you came again with a scream of his name, your body seizing, the loud moan that escaped your lips barely audible over the overwhelming noise in your head. It was the most raw, vulnerable he had ever seen you—or any human—and it only fascinated him more.

With another deep thrust, you shuddered, and this time, Svarog could see your body collapse against the surface beneath you, completely undone. You were breathless, barely coherent, your limbs shaking as the final waves of pleasure raked through your senses.

Svarog paused, his cool hands steadying your trembling body, allowing you to come down from the dizzying high. He could continue for as long as he wanted, but your body was too spent for further testing. He could still see the evidence of your come, dripping down in translucent milky strings to the surface beneath you, painting your inner thighs. Svarog decided that this must be what humans described as “beautiful.”

“Conclusion: Subject’s tolerance to size discrepancy has surpassed previous estimates. Data collection complete.”

#honkai star rail #star rail #honkai sr #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail svarog #svarog x reader #svarog smut #hsr svarog #svarog #robot fuckers unite #tw: dark content #cw: dubcon #size difference #hsr x reader #hsr x you

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luxthestrange · 2 months ago

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HSR Incorrect quotes #10 FACTS-

Y/n: Now Remember if you sleep with an older man, That's not having "Daddy Issues"

Y/n: That is called "Caring for the elderly"~

The Older Men:...

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latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 2 years ago

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⌗︙・becoming svarog's human cocksleeve for "research" ♡⸝⸝

it's just for research, that's all. that's what you tell yourself when you shrug off your clothes and stand before the huge mass of metal that is svarog, you have to remind yourself that he's simply conducting these so-called calculations for research. but it's so hard, it really is, when he makes you orgasm so intensely that you end up passing out or when he fucks you in positions that make you feel just how big he is.

to say that his dick is huge is the biggest understatement of the century. you don't know where and how he got the idea to construct such a monstrous size, one that almost made you second-guess bending over to let him shove it in. every time he moves, your stomach bulges, your tiny body just barely accommodating his size and you have to cling onto something, anything, just to stabilize yourself. he doesn't feel pleasure when your tiny mouth suckles on the engorged tip nor when your plush walls swallow it up, but he seems to enjoy pummeling you in his own, strange robotic way.

his stamina is unmatched, mostly because he's a robot and robots do not have a concept of a refractory period or physical limits. he can keep going for however long he pleases, continuing to fuck you through the sensitivity of your orgasm even when you snivel and whine for him to at least wait a bit. the only things stopping him from fucking you for hours are the possibility of sweet clara accidentally upon this debauchery, and you passing out right after a mind-shattering orgasm or because you simply can't possibly go for any longer.

when svarog's hitting it from behind, he will grip your chin and force you to look up at him, to see the way pretty tears clung onto your lashes. he's stronger and bigger than you in every way possible, and you can be damn sure that he knows it. from the way the tummy bulge pops up and down bc his cock is too big for your body to his thick n heavy fingers holding you in place with ease, svarog overwhelms you entirely. when you cum, he gets to watch your eyes roll back and your tongue loll out as you choke out pathetic cries and moans.

sometimes, he just... sort of forgets that overstimulation is a thing, especially for cute little humans like you who can only take so much. svarog just keeps fucking your tight little hole, giving you no time for breaks as he continues to pummel his enormous cock into you. it's even worse when he tests out some strange toys that he managed to procure, though you don't know how and why. but that's the last thing on your mind when svarog keeps testing toy after toy on you, giving you no time to relax as he slides the next toy into your ruined hole.

just to see you squirm and cry out for mercy, or perhaps because he wants to see just how much further he can push you beyond your limits, svarog installs a vibrating function in that massive cock of his. and he got exactly what he wanted, as the vibrations only serve in pushing you over the edge countless times and have you crying out his name over and over. although.. it might have worked a bit too well as now you won't stop pestering him to fuck you constantly, whining that nobody else can satisfy you anymore. not like he can.

or perhaps that is what he wanted.

#lati thirsts #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #svarog x reader #svarog smut #hsr svarog #svarog #the deed has been done and i'm wheezing

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 4 months ago

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I have vague memories of a blog with I think was yours where the reader showed Klee the thumb tricked, She freaked out because she thinks reader just got hurt and runs to Jean to tell her what happened. And Reader had to awkwardly explain to Jean what happed. Yeah So I request that but for Clara and Svarog.

(Honkai: Star Rail) Clara thinking Reader's thumb is gone

That sounds like my blog, perhaps in the Blog-That-Was (the old one before it got banned). Can't seem to find it on this one, though I am also blind.

Svarog's monoeye flickered the moment it detected Clara's heartrate spiking up.

Before a second even passes, Svarog is already at the door with weapons powering on.

By the time three seconds have passed, Svarog bursts into the room, scanning Clara and (Y/N) in the room with no signs of intruders or anything amiss.

(Svarog) "Both your vitals are significantly high. What is the situation?"

Svarog zoomed in closer to examine Clara's face and noticed that she had tears in the corner of her eyes, making its' prediction algorithms activate and try to find the source of her distress.

Though it was unnecessary as Clara immediately responded.

(Clara) "Mr. Svarog! (Y/N)'s thumb is hurt!"

(Y/N) "H-Hang on a second!-"

Svarog's head whirred towards (Y/N)'s direction and analyzed their physical state. Nothing appeared wrong upon initial scan-

(Clara) "T-They removed their own thumb!"

(Svarog) "...Likelihood of prosthetics: Low. Explain, (Y/N)."

Even though Svarog's voice modulator did not fluctuate once, (Y/N) felt a cold sweat run down their head sensing they were getting angry for making Clara cry.

(Y/N) "Sorry! I was just doing a little prank! S-See, look!-"

(Y/N) quickly showed the monoeye currently burning a hole through them with its gaze their hand, putting their thumb into their hand and repeating the motion in a panicked state.

(Clara) "You're...not hurt?"

(Y/N) "No, Clara! Promise! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that!"

Though they were apologizing to her, they were also apologizing so that Svarog didn't crush their skull.

Svarog remained quiet for a few more seconds before powering down its equipment, moving closer to Clara as she wiped away her own tears.

(Clara) "It's...it's okay. But...that was a neat trick!"

(Y/N) chuckled nervously before they immediately silenced themselves, Svarog's head suddenly turning towards them once again and startling (Y/N).

(Svarog) "Refrain from scaring Clara like this again."

(Y/N) "Y-YES SIR!"

(Clara) "Um...do you want to go outside with Perkins and I?"

(Y/N) "S-Sure, come on let's go!"

Svarog's mechanical head tracked (Y/N) the entire time, watching them leave with Clara and Perkins in tow.

Saying nothing else, it stood up and went back into its room to continue their scanning of countless areas.

Though, it did make a note to itself and any other robot accompanying Clara.

(Svarog) [Prevent pranks on Clara from (Y/N), Members of the Astral Express, and the Moles. Updating movie database to exclude scenes that may cause distress.]

#platonic honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #honkai star rail imagines #clara honkai star rail #svarog hsr #svarog honkai star rail

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jellojelli · 1 year ago

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Welt, Blade, Luocha, & Svarog: You’re Pregnant

*a/n: for all intents and purposes Svarog has the necessary accessories lmao*

Tags: fem!reader, pregnancy, slight angst, fluff

Welt

If you were to tell Welt that you were pregnant he would love for you to tell him in a silly or a way that makes him think about it for a minute. Something like putting buns in the oven or sitting next to two piles of ice while giving him a goofy look

When you told Welt you were pregnant expect to be literally lifted into the air as he looks at you with so much love it’s almost unbearable

He’s never been happier than to hear you say you were pregnant

It doesn’t matter if you two are only dating at this point or married or if this baby was planned or not, Welt is so happy. He loves you, he’s pretty sure you are going to be his last love no matter what so he’s happy to start a family with you

If you’re scared or unsure about going through with the pregnancy don’t feel conflicted on his account. He is going to love you through it all. No matter your decision he’s okay with it. And if you’re worried about being a parent Welt will gladly hold your hand and help you learn and become more confident in raising kids. He's also more than happy to essentially show you how he deals with March, Dan Heng, and the trailblazer

Welt is pretty rational, but I feel like this man has already bought and/or built everything a kid ages 0-4 could ever need and assembled a nursery on the express before you’re even done with your first trimester. Not to mention everyone is so ecstatic for you both that they’re also buying and decorating the entire express

Please don't expect to lift a finger during your entire pregnancy because if it's not Welt doing it for you its literally every other person, minus Dan Heng if it's something that you can clearly do on your own (he still offers his help because lets be honest he is a gentleman and if you’re with Welt he has mad respect for you)

Blade

Blade is a somewhat reasonable man, he's strong, and while sometimes he doesn't necessarily think everything out when he goes out to fight he can always find a way out. However, this news has left him literally shell shocked. It's gonna take you or another Stellaron hunter to snap him out of his thoughts

He is not going to sugarcoat the fact that he isn't exactly thrilled by this news, and if you tried to be cute with it he's not to happy you weren't just upfront and straightforward about something like this with him. But, Blade will not leave you or hate you for whatever you decided to do regarding the baby

He makes sure you know that he is less than ideal for a father, he's losing his mind, sometimes it's hard to control his violent tendencies, and he's not the most tactful person in the universe. He understands that these things make others view him as toxic, and he would never deny that, so he wants you to know that this child is likely going to go through hardships because of him

Blade didn't make the connection when you first told him about your pregnancy, but eventually he'll realize that his regeneration ability has a chance to pass onto the child and the scene of destruction you discovered after that was horrendous and also the most emotion you've seen on Blade's face. he looks haunted by the idea that his child will live like him and have to suffer an eternity without any out. It takes a lot of comfort and logistic talk with Blade, you, and the other Stellaron Hunter including Elio for him to feel even a shred of peace about this possibility

Surprisingly, Blade will set up an amazing nursery for you and the baby. You have no idea where he got the items, and its probably best not to ask, but the nursery is beautiful if not a bit bland

Blade will leave all color, toy, clothes, and baby care items to you. Not that he isn't trying to be involved with you and the kid, but he doesn't really know or care about those things, so he will leave them in your ever capable hands since you are bound to know leagues more than him. He will of course accompany you in shopping and offer whatever opinions he may have with some of your choices

Please expect Kafka and Silver Wolf to throw a baby shower for you. Not only that, Kafka is incredibly happy for you and Blade and helps you out anytime Blade isn't there. Silver Wolf also joins in with helping you, but it's less so since she's still young and to be honest doesn't know how to properly help you other than just handing you stuff and being there for you when your hormones are getting the better of you

Elio also gives you some cryptic, but somewhat kind words for you, Blade, and the baby's future together

Luocha

Luocha probably knows before you do. He's not a licensed doctor or trained in pregnancy symptoms and care, but like? He's traveled for who knows how long and he's seen a thing or two out there, and he's 99% sure that you are pregnant before you ever sit him down to tell him about it. I mean the weeks of morning sickness were a huge sign, especially when his treatments failed to do anything for you

Don't take offense, but Luocha isn't either ecstatic about the baby or displeased about them. He is happy to start a family with you, but he also brings up that this is going to be tough for you, him, and the newest little member if you plan on coming with him around the universe. He can't exactly stop being a traveling merchant as how would either of you make ends meet if he quit his job and eventually you can't work for an extended amount of time, but he would never force you to travel around with him where you may be in some less than comfortable areas during your pregnancy

No matter how you plan to do this, Luocha is 100% on board with your plans. He loves you, you are his everything, and even if he has to travel back and forth or carry you, the baby, and his coffin he will do what he must to be with you

Luocha will likely set up a house for you regardless on if you plan to come with him or not. He wants a stable location for his family once the little guy is out

You can bet that he has the house furnished and everything built and in place in no time. I feel like he's got connections and knows people that know people to get the job done asap

He leaves some fun aspects for you to do though, picking out nursery designs, clothes, toys, decorations for the home, he will leave it all for you and do what he can to get you everything you need or desire for the baby and y’all's new home

And don’t worry, if you go into labor on the road you are with the most capable healer and will make sure you and the baby are safe and happy

Svarog

Okay so, telling him you're pregnant is pretty much going to make Svarog do the equivalent of a blue screen. You’ve legit made this robot man crash and reboot

Svarog 100% knew that he could get you pregnant, you know this man has run 1000 and 1 different simulations and calculations to see if pregnancy was even possible for you two. And obviously the chance was a 0.0001% probability and he ignored that the possibility wasn't zero because those odds were supposed to be impossible, but here you were telling him you both beat the impossible and and beat the 99.9999% chance of this not happening

You would have to call in Clara to help Svarog and also tell her the amazing news. Clara is so excited by becoming a big sister that it kind of helps Svarog regain his composure and reboot his systems

He will want to discuss a lot about what is being created inside of you. This is a situation that he is not equipped to deal with and there is no simulation or calculation he can run that will tell him anything about what is going to happen now

However, Svarog is ever responsible and dependable and will never leave you uncared for during this time. Please rest assured that he will have you and Clara on baby proofing and baby planning duties until the baby comes, all while granting your every desire to assure your 100% happiness

Would never admit it, but he’s happy to have a second child, and he’s even happier that Clara is so hyper about the newest addition, if not a bit sad that she’s already maturing more and more in preparation for becoming a big sister

Expect some very confused and joyful congratulations from some of the prominent figures in Belobog. Bronya and Seele are the most confused, but offer their congratulations and Bronya even offers to accommodate you in the best hospital when you go into labor. Natasha is also happy for you and offers to be the one help with the delivery. Sampo…Sampo gives a lot of teasing comments that probably get a rocket fist sent his way and a pouting and scolding Clara on his heels

Taglist: @stygianoir

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr blade #hsr welt #hsr luocha #hsr svarog #welt yang #svarog #luocha #hsr x reader #blade x reader #welt x reader #luocha x reader #svarog x reader #welt x you #luocha x you #blade x you #svarog x you

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yanderehsr · 1 year ago

Note

Svarog,luka and blade with klee!reader

Sure thing, hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping

Svarog: You remind him of Hook a lot, but unlike Hook you don't have a parent to look after you, Clara seems to like you as well so that is a big plus in his book, he may not feel real emotions but for some reason he feels protective over you.

Svarog isolates you more and more, he doesn't allow you to go out adventuring like you love to do, you're explosions are taken away, he can see you grow sadder and sadder, but he wont stop, this is for your safety, that is much more important than you happiness.

"Requesting permission to take away... request denied... Requesting permission to change core programming... request accepted... Requesting permission to take away... request accepted, Proceeding to take away Y/N to safer location"

Luka: The guy loves your adventurous spirit, he will join you on every adventure no questions asked, he sees himself as your big bro and is very annoying with that, he wont respond to your questions if you don't call him that.

You love bombs, great, Luka teaches himself how to make them so you can go fishblasting together. Luka will also be a very good listener to you, every word you say will be remembered. He even breaks the legs of those bullies you had, he truly is the best.

"Hmmm, those kids that gave you a hard time, yeah I talked to them, you don't need to worry about them anymore"

Blade: He doesn't view himself as your big bro or father, no, he just simply wants to protect you, you don't get to run far from him so all the adventuring you get is by his side, he allows you to make bombs as long as he is the one who uses them.

Even during dangerous battles, Blade still keeps you by his side, it's simply the safest place. Aeons bless whoever is dumb enough to harm a single hair on your head, he will give them such pain that death seems like mercy.

"Stop crying over the slightest drops of blood, they deserved it, they cut your face... *sigh* Let's dress your wound before continuing"

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere male #yandere svarog #yandere svarog x reader #yandere luka #yandere luka x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #platonic yandere

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yestrnight · 2 years ago

Note

how much do I have to pay for svarog sex 😊

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ DILF ROBOT FUCKERZ !

FROM: svarog / afab! reader

SUBJECT: the underground of belobog is a cruel, dark place where it's a competition of the fittest. sweet, little clara is lucky to have svarog as her guardian, but you're even luckier to be able to... heh, get to know him ;)

MESSAGE: nothing to pay but ur dignity babygurl 🥴

( uh me and my doujinshi writing ass at it again; reader is a SL— /svarog counterattack/; overstimulation; robot fucking… duh; svarog is treated as an oversized vibrator cuz that is what he is!!! )

you're not exactly sure when clara pulled you into her little family dynamic with svarog— the svarog, leader of the vagrants, protector of the underworld, and for the longest time, the barrier between upper and lower belobog. sure, you liked telling her the children's stories you've read from natasha's bookshelves, and accompanying her around as her personal bodyguard while she looked through scraps to find supplies for the vagrants.

but you feel like, even as clara tugs you by the sleeve, that stepping foot into the svarog's lair is a biiit too much.

your cold sweat and pale face as the large, rickety gates swing open for clara (and you) says all that needed to be said. your stiff body follows clara as she pulls you inside. "um, clara…" you start, your shaky voice betraying any kind of macho you try to summon. "i don't think this is a good idea… i'm from wildfire, you know? svarog and our relationship is a bit… y'know."

clara's a smart kid. of course she knows. but she looks up at you, as innocent and hopeful as she can be, and pleads with you. "it's okay!" she says. "i've told mr. svarog all about you before! in fact, he's the one who told me to invite you, just so he can properly thank you!"

"h-he did?!" is all you could yelp before she and her traffic light perkins whisked you away to their home.

a few moments later, you're face to face with the big bad robot himself, his lone red eye peering down at you seven foot above. you gulp, clenching onto clara's soft hand for support. "h-hello, sir svarog…" your voice cracks. "nice to meet you…?"

"my data says that meetings between parents and their children's educators are common between human life forms," his deep and rusty voicebank echoes throughout the room. "a parent-teacher conference, they call it."

you shrink further into your uniform. "um… i'm not really her teacher…" your voice is so small even you yourself can barely hear it.

"that is obvious," he states. "according to your data, you lack the qualifications for being a professional educator. nevertheless, you've taught clara a great many things. she is… happy, whenever she talks about you. i hope you continue to spend time with her."

"i told you!" clara leaps up with joy and clings to your arm. her smile is so great that it gives you a literal heartache as it squeezes from how cute she is. "mr. svarog likes you!"

you swear svarog's eye glints, and you double swear his gaze is directed at the red bandanna wrapped around your arm. you'd give him the staredown too, if you were brave enough, that is. after all, what kind of robot needed pants anyway?

that robot needed pants because he needed to hide the luggage he was packing underneath. because if he had that out in the open, you swear any of your cowardice would have evaporated and you'd climb that big hunk of metal like a tree just to get that branch inside of you.

AHEM! what you meant to say was… oh, whatever, no use saving the very little dignity you have left.

the first time you drool over him is when he protects you from the cold. it was a wildfire expedition gone wrong and you underestimated a rogue robot, and the vagrant camp was so unfriendly without clara around. frostbite made you delirious, so any sort of fear vanished when you yelled through the rusty gates for some sort of savior.

only when the world begins to go dark do you feel a giant metal hand cup your back, and your feet swing in the air. when you finally come to, it's by the crackling fireplace. the world is still blurry when you sit up and see svarog’s hulking body looming over you. in other circumstances, you might have run away as soon as you can, but the near frostbite has made you delirious, and… well, svarog’s looking too sexy for a piece of scrap metal.

“ngh, ah ♡~” svarog’s one metal hand is large enough to encompass your whole lower body. he cups it as gently as a warforged robot can, and he bullies your throbbing clit with his finger while you’re left shaking under him. his red eye glints as he observes your expressions– drooling and eyes rolled back, a happy grin on your face as you rub back against his finger. “m– more~ more please!” his cupped hand bounces you up and down, and you squeal in delight as it heightens the stimulations even further.

“y– you can vibrate, right?” you gasp when svarog rubs your clit juuust right, and you pleadingly look up at him with tears in your eyes. “th– that makes sense… robots all– ngh! r-right there, please– vibrate, don’t they? jus’ comes with the machines ‘n all that, hehe~”

you’re quite the talkative one, aren’t you? svarog isn’t exactly used to this, given that all the architects and elites he served in the past were so quiet and distant while they used him. “what exactly are you insinuating, [your name]?”

“oh, come on!” you pout frustratedly. “v-vibrate for me, will ya? i need more! this isn’t cutting it for me anymore– a-aaH ♡ yes yesyesyesyesyes! right there, oh my gosh, right there!!”

his data tells him that you’re at the height of ecstasy as he watches you arch your back and kick your feet. your fucked out laughs as you continue to beg for more is the sign that tells him that he’s doing a good job, and putting one and one together, he increases the vibration setting and you devolve into orgasmic screams.

“ah ♡ ah ♡! ahhh ♡♡ wh-what the fuck, svaroggg!!! ♡” the vibration on your poor, swollen clit is too much as he continues to rock you up and down while pressing the vibrating finger down. “i– i never told you to– ahh ♡– increase ittttt!”

“is this not necessary?” svarog questions. he’s so used to cold and unflinching ‘clients’ that he’s not exactly sure what to do with a human as expressive and loud as you. “records tell me that further simulation will bring you to what humans call an ‘orgasm.’”

“i’m, nggh, i’ve already orgasmed, you idiot!” you sob as you flail your legs, squirming and kicking as if that will loosen his grasp on you. “oh, ooooh~ t-too much!”

ah. so this is an orgasm. while this does not fit the algorithmic standards for the measurement of beauty, svarog surmises that this is ‘beautiful’ to him. it’s his reward for a job well-done, as all worthy leaders give to their soldiers. “apologies, [your name], but i fear that my past experiences have not given me sufficient data on what constitutes an ‘orgasm.’ clara adores you very much, and i do not wish to strain you at the expense of her anxiety. so, if you would allow it—”

something pushes at the tip of your hole, and you widen your eyes when you look and discover that he’s slowly bullying his way into you. you grip his metal arms for safety and stare at him with wide eyes.

“if all goes according to plan, you should have nothing to worry about.” you don’t know how to feel comforted when he says it in that apathetic-sounding (yet super hot) voice of his. “human orifices can be trained to take in objects larger than them– i should have you sitting on my… cock, as they call it, at the end of the day.”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #svarog smut #hsr smut #svarog x reader #svarog #nite.writes

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glaxelilly · 2 years ago

Text

StarRail Masterlist

Dan Heng

Hemiko

Welt Yang

Blade

— Name / Blurb

— Wrong Number / smau

Kafka

Gepard

Sampo

Serval

Jing Yuan

Luocha

Svarog

Luka

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #hsr himeko x reader #welt yang x reader #hsr kafka x reader #hsr blade x reader #hsr gepard x reader #hsr sampo x reader #hsr serval x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr luocha x reader #hsr svarog x reader #hsr luka x reader

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year ago

Note

About the Kidnapped Kids: What would their reactions be to a reader who reveals themselves to be a scary demon (like Alastor from Hazbin Hotel) when they see the kids being used as leverage?

Clara: Svarog is gonna be there first to beat the reader up

Yanqing: Will try to beat the reader up first.

Misha: Will try to run away and smack you with a broom.

Huohuo: Runs away but fails because Mr. Tail is having too much fun with the Reader—

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pink-o-gore · 2 years ago

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Why am I simping for a damn Robot...

#honkai star rail #clara hsr #star rail #honkai #svarog x reader #svarog smut #svarog #hsr clara #honkai spoilers #hsr svarog

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meaningofaeons · 2 years ago

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I am here w your svarog rec!!

Reader n clara are playing and one of them like, falls or something and gets rlly lightly hurt and just,,, his reaction to that

- 🍓

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ a small trip

⊹ character(s) - svarog ⊹ word count - 1.2k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, reader is implied to be a fighter/be close with svarog and clara, sugary sweet tooth-melting fluff

🍓ANON HI!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SATING MY DESIRE TO WRITE FOR SVAROG !!!!! I really like him a lot he is so sweet <3 ILY TY FOR REQUESTING ( ↀДↀ)✧

"Bio heat reaction detected — Identifying bio information... Identification result: Y/N. — Hostility level: None. What can I do for you, Y/N?"

That familiar robotic tone greeted you as soon as you had made your way into Svarog's base camp, spotting the glowing red eye you had grown accustomed to.

The robot awaited you and Clara at the top of the steps, and you gently eased the small girl up, giving Svarog a gentle smile.

"Sorry, Svarog. While Clara and I were out, she got a small wound. I was wondering where you keep the medical supplies?"

"Y/N, I'm fine..." the young girl whined, clutching to your hand for a moment longer before walking over to give Svarog a greeting hug (which was really more of her latching onto his leg).

You nodded kindly.

"I know, dear. But if you don't get it looked at, it could get worse. We don't want that, do we?"

Then, you turned your attention to the robotic man.

"She really is fine, but she had quite the tumble, to be honest. Her knee has a slight scrape. Could you show us inside?"

"What happened?" Svarog's head tilted.

"Some Fragmentum monsters appeared out of nowhere. It was just in the scramble to find a hiding place. We're both okay."

"What of the condition of the monsters that encroached on your time together? Where are they found?"

You chuckled. Although his voice was as computerized as ever, you could hear the barest hint of protectiveness seep in every now and then—something that should be impossible, yet, here you were.

"Not to worry. I took care of them before we returned. Clara managed to find somewhere to hide in the scuffle."

"Understood. Come along, Clara."

"But what about Y/N?!" Clara burst out, tears threatening to fill her red eyes as she clutched onto Svarog's pantleg and tugged him back before he could walk away. "They tripped too!"

"Ah, nonsense!" you hurried, laughing nervously. "I'm really all right. I didn't get any injuries from it."

"But if I need to get checked out, you should too! Just in case!"

Children sure are stubborn these days.

You shook your head in resignment, turning again to the tall robot as he scooped Clara into his arm.

"Do you mind if I impose?"

"You are not someone capable of imposing. You are always welcome in our camp," Svarog answered surely, without leaving space for a single question or protest. He moved towards you, offering one hand while his other was occupied holding Clara.

You took it graciously, heading into the small mansion that was Svarog's home.

"Not someone capable of imposing, hmm... Is that all part of your calculations too?" you nudged him as you made your way through the halls, going to the makeshift infirmary set up in the back corner of the estate.

"Yes."

You chuckled lightly. Stoic as always. Then again, he is a robot.

"What if I defected, became a vagrant and went to steal your stockpiled goods for whatever reason?"

"Calculating — Rate of trust towards Y/N exceeds that of the average human. Probability of betrayal, defection, or otherwise malintent: 0.00%. Result identical to previous fifteen calculated results. Existing data will temporarily not be altered."

Your eyes widened a bit of that, and you raised a brow.

"Clara, have you asked him such a thing before?"

"No, I haven't..." she trailed off. You turn to Svarog.

"So, you think about me often, do you?" you teased lightly, knowing the robot would have some sort of calculative response to that.

Svarog did not respond.

In the moment, you shrugged it off, but something tickled the back of your mind about the way he remained silent.

Was there really a way to calculate such a thing with pure logic?

You chose to shove the thought from your mind for now.

Svarog gently sat Clara on the examination table, gathering bandages and ointment. He placed them on the table beside you, standing back and allowing you to gently patch up the small girl's leg.

As soon as you finished, the girl had hopped up at once, hugging you and Svarog lightly as she went to the door.

"I'm going to go check on Pascal. Bye, Mr. Svarog! Bye, Y/N!"

You waved her off with a smile, sighing as you leaned against the wall.

"Please sit on the examination table, Y/N."

The computerized voice cut through your thoughts, and you eyed Svarog, who was very pointedly staring at your knee. You chuckled nervously, waving your arms again.

"Svarog, like I said, I'm fine. I didn't trip that hard—"

"According to observational results, you have a mild limp and a tremble in your left leg. Probability of injury: 96.38%. Probability of injury exceeding average standard of human pain tolerance: 47.92%. Probability of—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" you huffed, tossing yourself onto the examination table and lifting up your pantleg. Though the gash in your knee was nothing life-threatening even if infection were to encroach, it did hurt, and nothing escaped Svarog's observational eye.

"See? Nothing too bad. I can take care of it myself back home, you don't need to worry."

"I will treat it."

"Svarog!" you exclaimed as he took the ointment in his large, metallic hand, applying a generous amount. "I really am okay!"

"Clara is worried for your well-being. As am I." The second part of his sentence made you shut up just a bit. That is, until he started rambling again. "Probability of Clara's mental well-being declining as a result of Y/N's injured knee — 93.49%—"

"I got it with the calculations! Just... do what you gotta do," you relented at last, allowing the robot to finish dressing your wound and bandaging you up at remarkable speeds.

Honestly, with how large his hands are, you weren't sure if he'd be up for it. Still, he did a decent job. Better than decent, really.

"Are medical skills also ingrained somewhere in that big computer-like database of yours?"

"I can access all databases relative to Belobog. As there are records of accurate and efficient medical care, I am able to perform these according to written instruction."

"Hmm... Well, thank you, regardless."

"You have my appreciation as well, Y/N, for assisting Clara. It would be appreciated if you would look after her in the future, as well."

You laughed lightly.

"Is that even a question? I'll always be there for you and Clara. No need to worry. Though, I'm sure you'd be able to demolish anyone that threatens Clara with far more ease than I."

"Verifying accuracy of claim — Combat systems—"

"Okay, Svarog, just an observation, no need for an analysis!"

"Very well."

By the time Svarog had led you back outside, Clara had returned, Pascal in tow. She gave you another great, big hug before you left, all while you patted the robot on the arm.

"I'll see you two later."

"Goodbye, Y/N."

"Bye, Y/N! Come back and visit again soon!"

As soon as you were out of earshot, the small girl turned to her father figure, a big beaming grin on her usually timid face.

"Are you and Y/N gonna get married, Mr. Svarog?"

Svarog did not reply aloud, but the whirring of his circuits made it plenty clear to Clara that calculations were running like rampant in his computerized mind.

"Let us go inside, Clara."

She only giggled.

#hsr #honkai #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #svarog #svarog x reader #anon #🍓 anon

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scribs-dibs · 28 days ago

Text

SYSTEM ERROR: A SECOND EXCEPTION

RAHHHHH MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! THIS IS MY SECRET SANTA GIF FOR THE SUPER DUPER REALLY COOL SHRIMP LOVER @tetrachrxmacy !!!!! i hope you like it !@!1!1!1!1!1

not explicitly romantic (kinda a found family typa thing. youve been RECRUITED!1!!1!1!1), depictions of (minor) blood and injuries, reader is referred to using they/them, svarog mightttt be ooc....but I DID TRY!1!1!1!, Clara is in here quite a bit, i think that's it?

wc; ~2.2k

"Inquiry," Comes the thundering pulse of Svarog's voice, "Why did you risk your life for Clara?"

The unfortunate drawback to humans is their inherent weakness.

Emotionally and physically unstable. Failure to adapt to a multitude of climates. Consistently distracted by irrelevant matters.

Weak.

Svarog is a machine, and as such, knows very little of empathy. There is no need for feelings, for they imply a lack of logic. There is nothing logical about the way humans feel, with their emotions so influential it often becomes their undoing. There is little point to it all, he thinks. If anything, it seems the most logical course of action is to discard emotions altogether, so humans can function and think better. Survive better.

So matters such as this can be avoided.

This is yet another deficiency in humans: their impulse. It is your impulse, your lack of thought that has landed you here.

The Overworld has changed, compared to the stone-cold tomb he was to protect the Underground from. But it is still starkly bright, an expanse of pure white and tall, sharp trees. Against it, a figure– yours, no doubt, for his calculations of faultless, laying in hiding against some rock and rubble. Blood has stained the fresh white snow, blotches of crimson dragged along in an unsightly path to you. Your hand is dyed a shocking red, too, inadequately covering a gash near your side.

Analysis: Across your abdomen, a long, superficial gash. The cause: Likely the result of an altercation, as is normal with your recklessness. On your face, a smile. Conflicting information.

Such matters are none of his concern. You are, and have always been, a human as ordinary as any other. As such, it is only logical you are just as weak as any other human. The only reason he's stepped foot up here is because–

"M-Mr. Svarog, do you...think you can help?"

The automaton takes a moment. This is the voice of Clara. His precious Clara. Who has flushed, tear-stained cheeks from stressing the urgency of your situation. He kneels and rests a hand on her head. It is his best effort at comfort.

Svarog doesn't want much to do with you. You are unpredictable, brash, and quite obviously lack self preservation skills. Most notably, these traits are all horrible examples for Clara, but despite this you are her dear friend. As such, he has been forced to tolerate you, time and time again. You have accompanied Clara on a number of excursions, but none of them involved danger. Part of him, tempted by the technicality of you not technically being from the Underground, wants to just leave you here as payback for putting Clara in this position.

But as Svarog gazes at his daughter again, panicked, ruby eyes illuminated by the pink light of his singular one, he cannot bring himself to say that saving you is a waste like he wants to. This is another thing that sets Clara apart from every other human: It is always difficult to say no to her.

He lets out a sound, then. One that would expel steam if he produced it, heavy and almost tired-sounding...if he were human, it would be a sigh.

"Very well. For you, Clara."

(And from what you can tell, further away and with your heartbeat ringing in your ears, you swear his tone is softer with her. You are almost warmed from the brutal cold at the sight of it. When Svarog stands again, and the soft, near-fuzzy light of his eye sharpens again as he focuses on stepping closer to you.)

It is Clara who takes the lead, running and almost tripping over herself just to land at your side. Svarog tenses. (Your threat level is low, but not zero.) Vaguely, he makes out the sound of her desperate apologies, but for what he does not know. Humans find themselves hurt for a number of reasons, none of which are the fault of his dear daughter.

But then--

"I'm so sorry! Yo-you saved me- and then…and then I left! And- and there's so much blood--"

"You only left to get help, Clara. It's okay, see?"

He appreciates that you use your unbloodied hand to point to him, your smile unwavering but still tense.

"Help is here."

Svarog supposes that changes his view of you, slightly. Your injuries were not the result of your own ever-foolish recklessness, but out of responsibility for Clara's safety. What Clara wields is a strong will and a kind heart, never a weapon. You, an outsider to him, put your life on the line to keep her safe.

He runs a careful eye over Clara again.

Assessment: Not a scratch to be found. You have been successful in your goal.

So perhaps you are worth saving.

Blood-stained snow crunches beneath his feet. The automaton stands just behind Clara, peering down at you pensively. He can see how the light of his eye wavers as he analyzes you, recalling the fatal flaw of all humans. You are weak. He needs to be careful.

No. Correction. He needs to be gentle.

It is strange. He hadn't considered extending such a kindness for someone other than his daughter. But Clara herself is trying her very best to support your weight enough so you can stand, and the movement is enough to have more dribbles of crimson slipping from your gash. That won't do.

"I will take them, instead."

It stalls him for 2.5 seconds, trying to comfortably balance you on one of his arms. You rest against his torso, solid and cool, contrasting this warmth of your body as more blood smears across the surface of him. He has to be quick.

Clara reaches for one of his hands and walks alongside you both. Though she seems relieved, the subtle signs of worry across her features are not lost upon him.

"Inquiry," Comes the thundering pulse of Svarog's voice, "Why did you risk your life for Clara?"

You hum, but he knows this sound is not contemplative.

"It was the right thing to do. Clara's a kid after all,"

"B-but! But I could've- You shouldn't have had to protect me!" The girl grows teary-eyed once more, and Svarog can see how your brow furrows at the sight.

"And," you start, cutting off Clara's self-deprecating ramble, "I wanted Clara to be safe. I can handle this fine," (False: This is a lie, you're hurting. You're uncomfortable, too, but have said nothing. These actions go against his idea of what ordinary humans would do. Perhaps you're not as ordinary as he thought.)

"But Clara? I don't wanna think about what would happen if those jerks got to her, you know?"

Highly unusual behavior, on your part. Humans will do anything to survive. Taking a risk this grave for someone else, for his Clara...

Something within him stirs. Getting you to safety suddenly becomes much higher of a priority than he had estimated.

Svarog sinks down and scoops up Clara with his opposite arm. He doesn't know much about healing humans other than his daughter, but your survival is important to him now. He'll do whatever he can.

Softly, Clara calls for you. You must look particularly hurt, because the more she stares, the more guilt seems to consume her. You try to offer her one of your best smiles.

"It'll be okay...Mr. Svarog will help you feel better, I promise!"

You want to respond, but you suppose your body's weariness finally caught up to you.

You drift off in Svarog's arms, the clink of metal rocking you softly to sleep.

⋆★⋆

It takes very little time for Svarog to get you to safety. He is unable to fully understand the intricacies of the human body, just as you would be clueless when faced with inspecting the mechanics of an automaton. But though the injury you sustained was less than ideal as was the process of stopping the bleeding and wrapping the wound, his task had been completed.

His posture is less rigid. He feels his guard lower significantly. Assessment: Relief.

When he had taken Clara in, she was but a child. He supposes there was no reason for him to care enough to take her in, other than the clear, irrefutable orders to preserve humanity within the underground. But just as he was mistaken in thinking “true rationality” was the key to helping Clara and the rest of the underground, perhaps he was also mistaken in thinking that you were ordinary and insignificant to him.

At the very least, you make Clara immeasurably happy. That in itself is enough to value you just a bit more.

Furthermore, you’ve become somewhat of a common presence here. Clara talks highly of you when you help around the settlement, and though he still thinks you are reckless and brash…you still have enough sense to keep the ones important to you safe. You aren’t the hard-headed fool he had initially taken you for.

Svarog finds himself just a bit more empathetic, then. Though you are weak now, you’re clearly strong enough to hold out for this long on your own.

He is alerted again when you start to stir. Your eyes flutter open, and for a moment he can see panic threaded into your features.

“You are awake,”

When your gaze flickers to his, he sees the way you deflate on your exhale.

“Hi Svar-”

“It has taken one hour, forty-five minutes, and fifteen seconds for you to wake up after we brought you down. How are you feeling?”

He is strangely eager. Though your vitals are stable, it is a different matter entirely to hear that you’re fine from you.

You seem taken aback by his sudden interest at first. Briefly, the automaton ponders if he should back away and give you some space. But then you smile softly up at him, a true smile, without pain dulling its purity.

“I’m much better now,” Your fingers move to trace over the bandages wrapped around your middle. They aren’t verysecure, like the person who wrapped them was overly-cautious about squeezing you too tightly, “Did you do this?”

If he had a visible expression, you’re sure it would be tense. Instead, as if trying to keep calm and collected, he offers a slight tilt to his head.

“Is it unsatisfactory?”

“Oh, no! It’s fine,” You trace over it again, this time in the opposite direction. You can almost picture it: Svarog tentatively wrapping the gauze around you, Clara guiding him with worried, gentle instructions. It’s a cute thought– if only you were conscious to see it.

“It’s perfect, actually.”

Svarog feels himself relax again.

The call of your name alerts the two of you immediately, and he would usually be concerned if not for the fact that he recognizes that tone. It’s Clara, clearly excited to see you both upright and awake.

“You’re okay–! I was so, so worried!”

For some reason, Svarog feels at peace when you hold Clara tightly in your arms. You smile sheepishly at the sudden affection, softly petting at her head.

It's a strange feeling. Truly, Svarog did not pay any mind to you before. But now, when you're under his care, and Clara runs to you as she would a second home, the automaton feels himself starting to shift. You, previously a thorn in his side, insistent and unyielding, has also been a constant presence for Clara. You, who he thought to be nothing more than a foolhardy adventurer, has saved his daughter from harm. And now, shy as she is, Clara embraces you tenderly, ardently, with all the love in her heart.

"Love" itself is a concept hard to quantify. But if "love" is what he feels when Clara runs up to him and hugs him in that same way, and you return these affections without so much as batting an eye...

If risking your life, too, is an act of love, then he supposes you must love Clara that much more.

"Mr. Svarog, they can stay with us for a bit, right? Until they fully get better?"

Assessment: Clara adores this individual. This individual adores Clara, in turn. Threat level has decreased significantly over time. This individual has taken great risks to ensure Clara's safety. Ensuring their safety, in turn, has become a priority.

You blink, seemingly taken aback.

"O-oh! I wouldn't want to cause more trouble–"

"No,"

That tone was too harsh. You jolt at the sudden sound, clearly surprised at his quick answer. He attempts it again:

"No. You should stay. Your chances of recovery will increase at least 20% if you do so,"

Svarog takes a look at his daughter, still wrapped tightly around you as if you will disappear.

"Clara will enjoy spending more time with you, as well."

There is a soft purse in your lips, like you contemplate speaking. He keeps his glowing gaze trained on you, hoping to encourage you to speak your mind.

Success.

"...Will you enjoy me staying here, Svarog?"

The automaton pauses. This is not about him and his preferences, Clara's benefit has been at the forefront of any decisions regarding you. But, strangely, he finds himself..warmed at the idea of you staying with the two of them. Not as a meddlesome, ordinary human, but as a part of them. Weak on your own, no doubt, but stronger together.

"Conclusion: You belong here. You’re a part of our family."

⋆★⋆⋆★⋆⋆★⋆⋆★⋆⋆★⋆⋆★⋆⋆★⋆⋆★⋆⋆★⋆

RAHHHH TY FOR READING!!!! comments and rbs appreciated <3

#honkai star rail headcanons #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #svarog x reader #svarog x you #svarog hsr #honkai star rail svarog #honkai star rail #hvntersecretsanta #☆.writing

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