#—stellaronhvnters.

[azullumi]

“affection weaves into the letters on your screen” ; aventurine and ratio

premise — messages and calls between you and him.

content tags — w/ gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, texts and messages, not proofread, 0.8k ; headcanons

note — i needed something easy and nice because everything has been too stressful

If there’s one constant thing about AVENTURINE is that he is an avid fan of messaging, texting, or whatever the proper term for that is. No matter where he is and what he’s doing, he’ll always find the time to type in a message for you and press send—it could be about anything, from the random thing he’ll see while he’s walking which he thinks you’ll be interested in to how his day is going and possibly, ranting about it. The only time he’ll be inactive is when he’s in the middle of something, like completely and utterly busy that he couldn’t pick up his phone to check up on you or update you on what he’s doing.

Would use the most out of everything; calls, voice messages, attachments, everything. He’ll use stickers whenever he can and would use those silly emoticons because why not? He’s very expressive overall; it’s like you can hear his voice, see his expression, and the gestures he’ll do over the screen. 

PHOTOS !! There are new ones added to the shared gallery of your conversations with him every single day. He sees something cool? He takes a photo. He’s currently having a meal? No questions asked, he’ll take a photo. The critters are in this silly position? The camera is pointed at them already and the image of them in a circle while seemingly discussing something is sent. He’ll send selfies of himself throughout the day and he’s the type to pose with random things; there was a time he sent you a photo of himself holding a potted plant (he said it was an addition to his office and he thought you should know). It’s ridiculous, you may say, but he can’t contain the smile on his face when you send a photo back.

Occasionally, it’s videos that he sends.

It’s the late night calls and messages. Aventurine has sleeping problems, struggling to fall or stay asleep no matter how much he physically exhausts himself, so when worse comes to worst and it’s already midnight yet there’s no ounce of anything that makes his eyes heavy, he’ll message you—asking if you’re still awake and if you’re doing anything. It’s your voice that guides him to his dreams, gentle and delicate as a lullaby; by then, you’ll receive no response from him as you call for his name and you’ll have to whisper to him goodnight as he sleeps.

BONUS : on the topic of calls, he likes spending time with you in silence as you do your own thing while he also does his own. Your presence is enough to comfort him and keep him grounded.

VERITAS RATIO is not much of a texter and if he does send you a message, it’s mostly about engineering designs for a machine, requesting that you give him a set of questions if he needs something to simulate his weary brain, sending you links to a sign-up form for a debate that is occuring, or proposals for a certain project as he asks for your input. There are times you’ll find yourself debating with him—all just casual and he won’t throw a chalk at you. However, the line of your conversation between you and him is short and is separated by intervals; he just prefers talking in person or over calls. 

He’s probably the fastest typer you know but he rarely ever makes typos, like ever. He types strictly and formally with proper capitalization and punctuations with the mixture of the words that would require you to bring out a dictionary to understand, always starting his sentence with an uppercase and ending it with a period. It feels like you’re having a corporate or business meeting whenever you’re talking to him due to how formal he is over text (you can probably hear his voice whenever you read his messages too).

“DRYEST TEXTER IN THE UNIVERSE EVER” some would say and maybe you too, however, there are traces of sweetness and affection in your (short) conversations with him. He’s the one to greet you first in the morning, so expect that the moment the sun has risen, there’s a message notification from him displayed on the screen on your phone—the time you’ll rise from your bed, your sleeping and wake-up patterns are embedded in his mind and he ensures that you always wake up with a good morning. 

In note with that, sometimes, you’ll find yourself wondering if he even thinks of you, if you occasionally appear inside his mind and distract him from his work—doubt begins to muddle your thoughts. However, you must remember that he’ll always send you reminders throughout the day, telling you of the agenda you have planned for the afternoon which you told him once or twice the day before, reminding you to finish this task you’ve been procrastinating on, or just simply telling you to take a break or to eat something (especially when he knows that you don’t take care of yourself).

Be kind to yourself, will you? He looks out for you and cares for you a lot even if you may think otherwise.

EXTRA : doesn’t call and is not exactly a fan of it, however, if his phone were to ring and he sees it’s you calling for him, he wouldn’t hesitate to answer it.

tagging the one and only amazing and lovely @toorurs 🗣️ first of all, i’m sorry that i haven’t replied to your tiktoks when i told you i will (plsdonthateme) and second, i actually dont have a second thing to say. anywaysss!! i think we’ve both been busy these days or maybe it’s just me (sorry finals are approaching) but do know that no matter what happens i still treasure and love you as a friend ‼️ i saw this one plant in our trip yesterday and i remembered you i dont know why i think it’s because it was pretty and the color reminded me of you 🫶🏼 but yeah, keep on doing amazing things and amazing works (DONT DIE FELI THE WORLD WILL LOSE AN ANGEL) !! you’ve become one of my most favorite people ever and remember that i will always be here for youu mwa

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#—stellaronhvnters. #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine hsr #star rail #hsr #honkai star rail #ratio x reader #dr ratio #hsr ratio #ratio x you #aventurine fluff #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio hsr #azul.writes

[akutasoda]

Hey, continue with Sunday and Noelle reader, please?

Reader is selfless all the time, the fact you’re willing to help and save people, ignore your health and keep get hurt.

This can be the reason why Reader never pass to be the Cloud Knight member… I think Sunday find this reason when he talk to your guardian.

“The Cloud Knight do need someone that can protect the Xianzhou… but they don’t need someone who don’t care about their health and keep hurt.. or worst, death..”

i thought you believed in me

synopsis - he gave you an opportunity and now he'd ripped it away from you

includes - sunday

warnings - gn!reader, reader is based on noelle, angst no comfort, small blood mention, wc - 871

a/n: a continuation of this

taglist - @teddirika, @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss

when sunday had first proposed you that job, you didn't quite know exactly what he had wanted you to do. all he had said was something about 'helping those curious enough to get lost in the corrupt parts of the dreamscape'. however it turns out it wasn't so much a new job as more as it was an additional shift. after you're shift as a tour guide, you would be payed to enter those corrupt parts of the dreamscape and look for any guests (or stowaways) who has slipped further into the dreamscape.

you were grateful for the extra pay and so you didn't complain but sometimes it reminded you to much of the cloud knights. all you could imagine is the cloud knights doing the same patrols and protecting xianzhou civilians from the mara struck. you tried your absolute hardest to push it to the back of your mind and get by with your job to focus on your new life.

arguably, this attitude would land you in much more trouble than what you thought. you're desperate attempts to rid yourself of any remaining memories of the cloud knight had admittedly caused a major amount of carelessness. not so much to those you rescued but to yourself - you would overcommit to ensuring the safety of those in the dreamscape and in turn, would put yourself in too much danger than necessary.

sunday couldn't even count on both his hands the amount of times you had escorted an unfortunate guest into his office, for the sake of making sure they keep quiet, with your clothes bloodied and looking like you were on the verge of unconsciousness. he worried that maybe this job had been too much to ask of you but everyone know their limits right?

it didn't take very long for sunday to start thinking about what caused you to be so careless about your new duties. he may of had his crow start following you and it was to confirm his suspicions that you were only reckless when it came to putting your life on the line if it meant saving someone else. he decided that maybe approaching you directly wasn't the greatest course of action as you seemed so dedicated to your job that he knew he wouldn't be able to get through to you, and so he settled for a close companion of yours.

due to you not being from penacony you didn't actually have anywhere to stay when you first arrived - sure there was the reverie but you couldn't pay to stay there forever. fortunately, you had become acquainted with someone who was a local and they allowed you to room with them. you two had grown very close due to this and they were currently the only person in penacony who knew of you're real home and story. sunday figured that they would be the best person to ask.

and he was right. after a few questions and a little help from the power of the harmony, sunday had figured out that it was this same reckless behaviour that had caused your initial rejection from the cloud knights. it know made sense as to why they hadn't utilised your immense abilities in combat. knowing how to fight was one thing, but knowing how to take care of yourself in the process was a completely different thing - you had only mastered one of those.

practically everywhere would have some form of security or protection, the cloud knights were the xianzhou's. they would need someone who can hold their own in battle and still manage to keep themselves safe and this was also the requirement in penacony.

it pained sunday to even decide that he was going to force you back into being just a tour guide. you had done an excellent job with the task he assigned you but he wouldn't stand for you being so reckless about your health in the process. sunday knew that rejection from a similar setting was what had forced you to leave your home originally and he didn't want you to feel the same way when he informed you - especially because he offered you the job in the first place.

but he knew it had to be done, he couldn't risk you dying to the meme's in the distorted memory zones because of your own carelessness. sunday would assure you over and over that you were to keep you're job as a tour guide but he'd prefer you not keep up the extra work. suddenly it felt like that dreaded day all over again.

you hadn't really known what sunday could want to talk to you about but you would've preferred anything but this. your face immediately fell and the rejection hit hard. how could you lose a job that had been offered to you? surely you didn't mess up that bad? and as cruel as it felt, sunday was kind of glad he'd forced you away from the danger - or atleast until you could learn to look after yourself properly and learn that the sacrifices you made weren't needed.

#—stellaronhvnters. #x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #sunday x reader

[meidnightrain]

UNDELIVERED❞ - aventurine

summary: his voicemail is full of messages, all from you, never to be heard

warnings: reader is gn, spoilers for the 2.1 penacony quest, angst, hurt/no comfort

notes: like genuinely i am not able to write for him anymore, i’m so sorry if this sucks or anything i’ve been suffering writers block for the longest time 😭

i saw the prettiest gemstones just now, but they couldn’t match the hue of your eyes. i know people belittle you for it, but i think they’re really beautiful, like all of you. i know you’re probably busy right now. i’ll wait for you to come back before telling you about my day, and you can tell me about yours. do you want to play a few rounds before turning in? i love you.

(played)

thanks for the gift; you seriously didn’t have to. i know you only came to penacony for business, and you didn’t have to take me along either. i’ll make it up to you, i swear. how about a date once you finish work? i heard about this casino; there’s this hotshot there that you might enjoy wiping the floor with. what do you say? see you later. i love you.

(played)

i know something's off, and you’re not telling me about it. where did you go just now? you promised we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other, but you’ve been hiding something the whole time we’ve been here. i’m not angry; i just…i just want you to be open with me. is that so bad? call me back as soon as you can. i love you.

(played)

i’m sorry i yelled at you; your plan wasn’t something… i could agree with, i don’t care if ratio agrees to it. we can work this out; you don’t have to do this alone. just come back, and maybe we can find a better solution. love you.

(played)

i know that i apologized, but it’s not in the way you think it is; maybe it wasn’t even directed at our argument. not sorry, like, "oh, i pity your upbringing," but more of, "sorry for thinking that we could and sorry that we ever tried (to work)." that sounds mean. maybe it is. i could never heal you from the wounds inflicted by your past; they were always too deep to fill up. and i know i wasn’t the best person for you to choose as your second half; why did you do it? why did you pick me out of everyone else? why did you think i was deserving enough of your affection?

look, i know you don't want to talk to me right now. i wouldn't want to either. but i really want this to work out in your favor. i know that i’m being selfish by wanting you even when i can’t. is it wrong to be selfish just this once if it means you’ll live?

yell at me and throw things and scream that i’m as bad as a person like those who hurt you, perhaps even more for knowing that you were hurting and i did it anyway. i don't care. but please don't ignore me. i would rather bleed myself dry for you than be forgotten. i know that nothing i say will change the past; what's done is done. but we can change the future. i don’t want to lose you, not in a million years, in another life, or in any other universe.

we can solve this, find a better alternative, and i can leave afterwards if that’s what you really want. if you can pretend that we’re okay just for a little bit—if you can talk to me one more time—i promise i’ll leave you alone. i promise i’ll never call you again or anything. please call me back. i love you so.

(played)

it’s been seventeen system hours, where are you?

(undelivered)

you’re joking, right? a grand performance? is this just another one of your pranks? there’s no way you- *cuts off*

(undelivered)

you did it, didn’t you? was it worth it?

(undelivered)

hey, please. please come back. i’m sorry. i’ll do anything to have you by my side. don’t leave me alone. please. i can’t live with myself knowing that the last words I said to you face-to-face were “i hate you.” i don’t hate you; i could never hate you. i’d hate the whole world before i could ever do that. please pick up. i love you please.

(undelivered)

it’s pathetic for me to keep calling you over and over again, thinking you’d pick up. maybe some part of me does, or i just want to hear the sound of your voicemail. i hate you; maybe i do hate you. i hate you for leaving me behind and making me think that maybe this would all work out.

(undelivered)

do you think it would have been any different? is it cruel of me to want you when you have never wanted anything else but this? you don’t have to come back as a ghost to haunt me when i’m haunted by everything because it reminds me of you. i can see you in front of me, always protecting me, but never once doing so for yourself. i can hear your laugh—your real laugh, not one of falsehood. i used to draw stars around your scars, didn’t i? but i was the cause of them bleeding you out before you...you’re gone now.

(undelivered)

i miss you. i’m sorry for what i said, and it’s too late now anyway. i won’t be able to forget you, like you told me to. they say that the brain can’t tell whether something is real or a dream, so i’d always believe this horrid dream, even if you’re not here anymore. i think of you all the time now that you’re gone. will you think of me up there?

(undelivered)

*static before it cuts off.*

(undelivered)

i hate the phrase ‘till death do us part’ because even after death, i would still love you. i’ll always be here right where you left me, waiting for you to come home even though i know you won’t.

(undelivered)

sweet dreams. i love you, kakavasha.

(undelivered)

© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

#🖋️ - short snippets #—stellaronhvnters. #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine angst #hsr angst

[scribs-dibs]

i'm an orange moon...

(reflecting the light of the sun)

major spoilers for 2.1, gn reader, it got a bit angsty i didn't meaaaan itttt, aventurine is touch starved and you Know how i feel about touchsta💥

wc; ~ 1.6k

“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”

Aventurine knows how to be an actor. He does so easily— his carefully crafted mask is more familiar than his own face. He is a performer first and a person second, because there is not a time or place on this or any planet where he can afford to lose anything more. The pieces of himself are barely put together, what is left of him seems to seep like sand between his very fingers. His family, his planet, himself, torn to ruin. And yet it is said that fate smiles upon him. The fractured pieces of himself are a blessing. What a funny thing fate must be, if his hell is said to be a heaven.

The mask must never slip, not even once— his life is a stage, corpses weighing heavy on his back, grasping hands chaining his feet, screams tearing his eardrums to shreds, and yet he must walk it anyway. And Aventurine will, and he will do it without missing a step. For this is what it means for him to live, his every breath a sin.

Aventurine knows how to keep a poker face. He does so easily— his smile is trained never to meet his eyes, it doesn’t know how to, and his hypnotic eyes are always trained on his next opponent, never leaving or faltering. He can’t afford to look away, to see what could possibly come next— to see what could hurt him, next. Aventurine could control nothing in his life. He couldn’t control the Katicans as they laughed as they took his father, or his mother, or his sister, and he couldn’t control when his swine of a master forced him to murder his fellow slaves, either. But he can control who he gets close to. He can control who he lets in, who is allowed to see what he looks like when his walls finally crumble.

Which, of course, is no one.

So it comes easily when he pushes well-meaning gestures away, or refuses a favor with that soft, styrofoam smile and a laugh. It’s not just second-nature, no. It’s the only one he has left.

Aventurine knows he doesn’t deserve the sanctity of being loved. This fact comes to him easily– all who have dared to try have been disappointed, and all who had mattered to him are gone. He knows it well, he is far too many pieces, far too broken, far too much of a mess for someone to come to try and fix. And this is fine, because he doesn’t have the experience to even fantasize about what he is supposedly missing. The closest semblance to friends that he has may as well be rivers or oceans away, with the amount of distance he has put between them and himself.

So you. You are strange to him.

Aventurine does not know what the hell your deal is. He doesn’t know how you got so close. He doesn’t know why you bother.

“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”

That gives him pause. For a moment, his lips part, and his brows threaten to furrow under the weight of his pure bafflement. But, as always, his mask slips back on easily, a kind smile slotted into place.

“Oh? Afraid of getting lost?”

You walk beside him on the streets of Golden Hour, taking in the sequins disguised as stars and the specially-manufactured cool night air. He can’t tell if you’re naive or just easily impressed.

“No,” you say with a shake of your head, “Maybe I just…felt like it.”

Aventurine does not change anything in his face. There isn’t so much as a slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows, or a look of conflict crossing his features. There is no hesitation in his face, his mask, at all. But even so, when you look at him, through him, your kind smile finds a way to become kinder, and the tenderness in your eyes somehow becomes more potent.

“We don’t have to,” you don’t look disappointed, or even expectant, at all, “We can keep walking. Just this is enough as it is.”

“Just this” is the oddly peaceful silence as the two of you walk together. Your presence is comparable to a sun he never got acquainted with— he’s used to the storms, to the rock and sand, to the unyielding weather he was forced to endure, but this is different. This is just a walk, and there’s no search for water while the taste of blood coats his tongue, or the threat of thunder or biting cold. It is just peace at its purest. He extends his hand.

“Far be it for me to argue. Be my guest.”

You light up immediately, elated. He's thankful for his shades— the brightness of you is blinding. And he isn't quite prepared for the feel of you. Even through his gloves he feels the warmth of your hands— it is everything he is not. His own are ruined; he was pried from his home, and forced to take a bloody, bloody climb back up to earn his own humanity again. Aventurine’s hands are ruined beyond repair— no amount of washing can cleanse them, but yours, yours are so different. They aren't fully soft, you have work and hardships of your own, but they are gentle. Taking your hand feels easy because there are no expectations or commands hidden in the grooves of your palms. There are no hidden weapons behind your back, there is nothing but the feeling of flesh against the dark smoothness of his glove, and for a moment, he almost finds himself staggering.

How long has it been, since he touched another with no expectations? To not force himself to be overly friendly, to not appease anyone for the sake of getting information, to just exist, with someone else's hand in his?

The last willing touch he remembers feeling came with his fingers dipped in blood, salty tears thick on his taste buds. This is different from that. This is worlds away from that.

And Aventurine does not know how to feel. He doesn't know how to arrange his mask in response. There is no light in his eyes, not anymore, at least, but for a moment they are so wide with shock that Golden Hour’s stars swirl in the mix of blue and purple— a complex, vulnerable galaxy. Aventurine does not know how to feel. And it bothers him.

The tips of your fingers slide from his palms to the tips of his own, raking tiny sparks across the fabric of his gloves. Your fingers are interlocked now, and his head is spinning. You're everywhere. Under his gloves, under his skin, everywhere, and it's troubling. Strangely, he doesn't want to let go. For a moment —one that is fleeting and miniscule, barely a blink of an eye— his mask softens, melting around symptoms of genuine comfort, but his wounded heart kicks in defiance. The mask clicks back into place when your gaze meets his again, a smooth, porcelain smile easily greets you. Just as it has been taught to.

(His hands are nice. You know he thinks differently, has been taught to think differently, but they are firm under your palms and quickly warm to your touch.)

“Shall we?”

Distantly, he is aware of the implications of holding hands on a busy city street, encircled by onlookers and gossiping figures— this is the behavior of lovers, friends, family, people who are much, much closer than the two of you are. But your touch is…pleasant. It could mean trouble for you, to be seen with him when so many people have him under such a careful watch, (He is never truly free of people's stares or of their suspicion, and this makes associating with him more than a hassle.) but you know this, and have yet to keep your distance. Experimentally, he flexes his fingers around yours. It's faint, and a gamble if nothing else, but you squeeze him back almost immediately.

Aventurine knows he is greedy. This is intertwined into his being almost as tightly as the hold of your hands. He knows that this is a rare, fleeting moment, one that he will never get to indulge in again —not when his plans to discover the truth of Penacony are sure to succeed— and he knows that he will long for it once it ends, the sweetness of it clinging to his teeth. But he wants it. He wants this singular moment of peace, of keeping the mask on but for once not needing to perform. The city is busy as ever, bustling crowds and cheerful chatter echo up into the walls of tall buildings. It would be nice, to continue your walk together like this, with your soft, sunny hand in his. It would satiate his greed, if only for a moment.

But Aventurine knows he is not worth your time.

“It's been lovely, really,” he almost slips— he almost winces when your face falls. You aren't as practiced as he is when it comes to keeping a poker face. “But I really must be going.” His hand slides out from underneath yours, but it is not as easy as he thought it’d be. The ghost of your touch already serves to haunt him. A few steps back, and your warmth still lingers.

“Take care out there, alright?” he says it with a tilt of his head, his best, practiced and perfect smile easing the tension from your shoulders. Performing again, this time for a private audience.

He only gets a few steps away before you call for him again.

Aventurine knows how to pretend not to hear and keep walking.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

rbs w/comments are appreciated!! <33

#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail headcanons #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #☆.writing

[toorurs]

"i see my reflection in your eyes" - aventurine

synopsis: aventurine loathes what he sees in the mirror. he avoids looking at his reflection, be it when looking down at champagne glasses, rain puddles or shop display windows. but how come you on the other hand look at him with such adoration? what makes him so special in your eyes, that the person that is reflected in your eyes looks nothing like aventurine but is none other than him. what do you see in him?

pairing: aventurine x reader (gn) |wordcount: 1.8k | content & warnings: established relationship, insecure!aventurine, aventurine cries a bit at the end, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, use of kakavasha once, dual pov once but only short mainly aven centered, rushed ending (you can tell when i became lazy..), half assed-ly proofread; oneshot

tags: @azullumi "i see my reflection in your eyes" hits a lot. because azul is one of the ppl. whom i look up to and kinda aspire to be. + i feel so understood and never judged by him. thank you, sending u kisses and hugs to you azul <3

a/n: also inspired by "reflections" from the neighbourhood

“‘rine, come here! how do i look?”

aventurine readjusts his tie once again, the lush fabric is placed atop of his freshly ironed shirt, attached to the collar of the crisp button up shirt. the lavish bracelet, that shimmers like a delicate marble statue beneath the bedroom chandelier, is adorned with a dozen sapphires. his eyes dart over to your vanity which you’re sitting in front of, the mirror reflecting your face, mirroring your beautiful self. 

he gets up from the queen size bed and makes his way over to your vanity, now standing behind you as he admires you through the mirror. 

“so?” you look at him through the mirror, two pairs of eyes meeting each other. they find its way to each other just like how the sea longs for the shore and meet each other again and again.

“beautiful. beautiful as always.” he responds, he tears his eyes away from your gaze just like how the tide sweeps away. (he'll always find his way back to you.)

“yeah? sure that this isn't too much?” one of your fingers starts to fiddle with the strands of your hairs, as if you were trying to fix something. 

(aventurine is under the belief that there’s nothing about you that should be fixed, you’re already perfect - you’ll always be perfect in his eyes.) 

“mhm.” he hums.“ you look amazing, trust me. there’s nothing worth fixing.” upon hearing his words you withdraw your fingers from your head and place your hand onto the surface of the vanity again as you stare at the mirror and lock eyes with aventurine again, grinning while doing so.

the blond can only give you a sad smile in return. he’s unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror, there’s something eerie behind you - an ugly monster that is lurking behind you. 

in comparison to you, he, the monster, looks like a hideous beast. he’s loathsome to look at, datatable even - a sore to the eyes, your seraphic eyes. 

aventurine doesn't know what you see in him. 

he’s an outcast that people ignore and resent, but still, you reach out your hand to him and give him a saccharine smile. 

he's the last kid that gets chosen in a chair circle, however, you're the first one who invites him to join you. 

he’s the fallen angel that was long abandoned by the heavens and the people, nevertheless you still pray to him. 

aventurine tends to avoid looking at himself, be it when he’s walking past puddles, mirrors or shop display windows, aventurine doesn’t dare to look at them, out of fear to see himself. there are times when he has to look at himself - times when he’s forced to look at himself.  

those mornings before work, right after he brushes his teeth and spits the remaining tooth paste into the sink and looks up to wash his face and stares at himself in the bathroom mirror - he loathes what he sees. 

those times when the two of you take selfies together and he stares at his own reflection, so later on you’re able to hang the pictures up in your room - as long as it makes you happy. 

those times when you ask for his opinion on your appearance and he stands in front of your vanity - just like now. 

aventurine is convinced that he’s ugly. both on the in-and outside. there’s nothing good about him. he’s of no use other than being the ipc’s dog that is chained to their leash. he carries no value with him, he’s only worth a little - a mere thirty tanbas. he’s charming on the outside, but on the inside he’s nothing but hollow - an empty shell. 

he often gets complimented by people, they say he has fair skin, a million dollar smile, a good body. 

the fair skin they’re talking about is engraved with scars and burns. it’s tainted with scratches, tarnished in scrapes, stained with wounds that’ll never heal, no matter what. 

his million dollar smile isn't his, the white teeth that beam every time he grins took him years of perfecting and polishing, until the yellow of his teeth faded away and was good enough to satisfy the people. 

after all those years, his good body is still emaciated and malnourished, sometimes people would joke about him just being skin and bones and then brush it off by saying that it was a good thing that he was slim and toned.

the person in the mirror is called aventurine, that’s the name he received by the ipc. aventurine looks good - handsome even, better than kakavasha could ever or will ever be, after all kakavasha is a fragmentum that lies in the past, long forgotten. 

“aventurine?” 

“‘rine!” 

“kakavasha!”

after what feels like an eternity aventurine reacts, he’s caught off guard - it’s been so long since he’s heard that name. he remembers telling you that he goes as aventurine now, kakavasha is a name that ties him back to the past, a time that only he remembers, after all everyone else who he had once known was gone. he recalls that you agreed when he asked you to address him by aventurine now, but hearing his given name spill from your mouth, is a sensation, a certain bliss aventurine didn't know he could experience. 

“kakavasha, are you alright? you asked, your diligent voice brings him back to where he is - where he’s supposed to be. (with you.) 

the way his name drips off your tongue is intoxicating, a tune chanted by a siren that lures him in, into the depths of the bottomless ocean. 

(your eyes are like the wuthering waters, they’re full of yearning and longing. you wrap him tightly into the blankets of the ocean, even if he were to try to swim away, the tide would pull him back, sinking into unending abyss - you.)

“hm, yes of course.” he tilts his head to the side, grinning as he innocently tries to brush the worry in his and your voice off.  “why'd you think otherwise?” he asks you as he stares into your eyes, two pairs of eyes locked with each other, like a pair of hands that intertwine and can’t seem to let go - just like a boy that can’t let go of his past and still hangs on.

“you know that i’m always here for you right?” you look at him with such devotion as if you’d worship the ground he walks on like a religion. caress his hands so lovingly, ignoring the fact that they’re soaked in blood. kiss the cheeks that are tainted with blemishes. 

how?

the person that reflects in your eyes isn’t aventurine - it can’t be him. he doesn’t look like that, he’s not worthy looking at, he shouldn’t stand in the way of your cherubic gaze - he’s only a bother; an ugly sight to look at. your pupils dilate as they watch him with utmost love, he doesn’t deserve it. your eyes fill with love, like they would with tears, he fears that your love would spill if you were to watch him any longer. he fears that his eyes would well up and release tears, the longer he watches himself in your eyes.

how can you look at him with such adoration? 

aventurine is a sight to behold. 

he has always been - he’ll always be. 

he’s the setting sun that welcomes the cold breeze of the night, the vibrant colors of the sunset are like his eyes - polychromatic, full of life. a blossoming flower that awakens as it gets shone upon by the sun, revealing its true beauty. 

“your life only revolves around aventurine” would be a wrong thing to say - after all aventurine is your whole word. 

you tuck one of his honey colored strands behind his ears, eyes glinting with playfulness as you stare at him. “you’re so beautiful.” a smile makes its way onto your face, earnest and sincere as you let out a small chuckle. 

“so pretty.” you hum in amusement as you twirl another lock around your index finger.

his mouth opens but it closes again and he can only chuckle before replying. 

you never fail to take his breath away, but he doesn’t mind, there was never much to say in the first place, after all you already know everything about him.

he lets out a strained laugh. “is that so? well i’m flattered, really.” he tries to give you a reassuring smile, it’s not like it’s hard for him to do so, but it seemed like you always knew what was going on in his head. 

aventurine doesn’t know if he should fear or admire that trait of yours. 

(to have a person know how you really feel means to become vulnerable around them, for them to see your weaknesses and mistakes, he doesnt want that, of course he wants to be seen, but that can only be done when you see his failures.)

again you see right through him, the palms of your hands immediately plant themselves on his cheeks. “aventurine, you know, i love you a lot. but i despise it when you lie to me.” your voice is stern but the words are full of care. 

“it's okay if you're not sure what to say. I don't mind - i'd never mind. so i ask you to be honest with me.” you plead at him, why - why are you so irresistible. shy don’t you just give up on him, after all he's hard to love and even harder to understand.

“i don't think i can do that.” he mumbles quietly, his gaze swaying away from yours, out of fear that you’d look at him in disappointment. the doubt is clearly showing in his words but he tries to ignore it.

“see? that wasn't so hard was it?” at that he snaps his head back to your gaze, cheeks still kept in between your hands. you smile at him - why do you smile at him? “you just told me the truth, you told me that it’d be hard for you to tell me the truth.” you gently caress his cheek. 

upon that aventurine can’t help but bury his head into the crook of your neck, slightly surprising you as you stumble a bit. due to him covering his face you can’t see what expression he wears but you feel wet patches form at the crook of your neck. 

at that you can only run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalps and drawing circles around the back of his head as you whisper into his ear. “take it slow, we have all the time in the world.”

he feels himself trembling under you and his voice breaking a bit as he murmurs the words into the crook of your neck.

“thank you.”

okay @azullumi you're getting an additional paragraph cause yeah!! you're super cool and i took a liking to u very quickly, ure sososo fun to talk to and you def have sweetened up the past few weeks for me and also motivated to write a lot! your feedbacks, praises etc. always give me sm motivation which isnt often found on tumblr anymore nowdays so i'm really grateful that you're always here for me. i'm very very fond of you and the same goes for you, i'll always be here for you!! (ps: please take care of yourself more, you're a great student and friend but please be a bit more considerate to yourself and take more breaks and rest well!)

e/n: when i had the outline i thought this was abt to turn out so good, well guess who was wrong.. not really content but oh well... as always rbs and comments are vv appreciated!! (and will def be read)

© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.

#𝓣𝓞𝓞𝓡𝓤𝓡𝓢: works ✯ #—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #aventurine imagines #aventurine headcanons #aventurine angst #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x gn reader #hsr imagines #hsr angst

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 , hsr men !

side comments: i love old jazzy tunes or old songs in general. i usually don't do this kind of fic but i wanted to try something new.

extra: gn reader, fluff, all hsr men except yanqing & misha word count: 434

Other arms reach out to me Other eyes smile tenderly Still in peaceful dreams I see The road leads back to you. 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐀 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 / Ray Charles

Despite age the two of you bustle about; committing your duties be it work or another passion. Perhaps either of you transverse the cosmos. However, when Twilight's wings gingerly take you under its folds, the two of you melt into one like candle wax dripping down its holder. No matter what path each of you treads- you are bound no matter the state. Thus, under the duvet covers and the unspoken lullabies of the night, he presses kisses on your wrinkled eyes like gemstones while slowly caressing your furrowed hand with a gentleness only matched by the lightness of a feather and the warmth of a beating heart. It is instinctive like blinking, like drawing air into the lungs. Rest now in silence for neither of you needed to say a word, another day will come and nights of blossoming devotion will echo into eternity.

𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑 . Dan Heng . 𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎 . 𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀 . Gepard . 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍 . 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 . Blade . 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐓 . Sam . + any of your favourites

Just one look at you My heart grew tipsy in me You and you alone Bring out the Gypsy in me I love all the many charms about you Above all, I want my arms about you 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 / Judy Garland

Your limbs might not take you far now, but he'll twirl you in the air like a star and tease you until your cheeks ache from laughter. The glimmer and shine of that first date still trails behind the two of you: stardust in the wind, wings that seldom break. You two still share that hidden kiss in public and search for treasures amongst a sea of rust. Giddy and unfettered, the two of you are like birds spinning in the air; chasing each other in fits of uncontrolled laughter. Blush still brushing against your sagging cheeks and the tipsyness of a night still young, his own heart enthralled as the first time he met you. The throng can stare if they want; asking why not sit down? Would you like some help? That's fine, he'll still banter and pursue adoration as if it's not already tucked in his arms. Because despite his gradually wilting eyes and worn-out knees, he'll still bow down and press his head against your stomach, whispering, "mine."

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 . Argenti . 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 . 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐎 . 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐀 . Gallager . 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 . + any of your favourites

At last My love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song 𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 / Etta James

The two of you have mellowed over the years, lost some hair and found comfort in blue skies, the pit pat of rain and sand between your toes. Perhaps the two of you find a house in the countryside or build a home on a distant planet found in cup boards and the warmth of an oven. Perhaps you settle under the blanket of the universe; allowing your eyes to trace the sun inching down the walls of your shared home. The two of you spend your days lying languidly on the couch, days drifting into melodies spent well and arms entangled as one. He never would've thought that his heart could slow and his soul mellow like a distant breeze. His eyes drifted towards your figure, a pleasant smile reaching his lips.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 . Welt . Gepard . 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 . Dr. Ratio . 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 . 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆 . Jing Yuan . Luocha . + any of your favourites

masterlist.

#—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #argenti x reader #arlan x reader #aventurine x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #dr ratio x reader #gallagher x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #luka x reader #luocha x reader #sampo x reader #welt x reader #sunday x reader #boothill x reader #writing ᝰ.ᐟ

[stellar-skyy]

hello dear <3 i was thinking an iced hibiscus tea for arlecchino, perhaps? feel free to decide the specifics and details on this one hehe

“i have an order ready for arlecchino! an iced hibiscus tea, for arlecchino!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: Arlecchino's child is struggling, but she is there to reassure them. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. platonic arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & hurt/comfort. 1.5k words. iii. A/N: the way i ran to get this order done- THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO WRITE THIS ILY /p

It was a cold day in the House of the Hearth when Arlecchino called upon one of her children for nothing more than a simple chat.

One of the unspoken rules of the House was that the most leisurely of discussions were only a preface to something deeper; layers of ulterior motives hidden underneath an innocent invite for tea. Some children had never glimpsed the privilege of being summoned to her office, while others found themselves carving a dent into her seat cushions with the number of times they sat in them. But one thing remained unchanging with every visit: their Father would send for them with a purpose, and they would not leave until it was fulfilled.

When [Name] received word that they were to visit Arlecchino’s office at 7:00pm sharp, their first instinct was dread; for the dozens of possible reasons for them being the one to be called upon. Musing upon the ‘why’s shifted their mood from the dull thrum of anxiety to sweeping waves of confusion. As far as they were concerned, they had no due cause for such a meeting with the Director herself; no failed missions to be reprimanded over, no shady plots of subterfuge to be exposed. They weren’t any rowdier or more troublesome than any other of the children, so the list of matters that would merit a visit was short.

Still, they knew better than to avoid the call. 7:00pm, they stood outside the office, hand poised over the door. They closed their eyes, knocking on it sharply and wincing at the echo that reverberated off the walls.

Three short raps. A smooth, calm voice, from inside the room: “Come in.”

The doorhandle creaked loudly as it turned. The door was old, and rather heavy, so it took a gentle shove to push it fully open to reveal the neat, cozy office inside.

“Ah, [Name], you’ve arrived.” Arlecchino greeted them as they entered. She was seated behind her desk as she usually was, with a full tea-set in front of her. As they slowly approached, she motioned towards the plush chairs opposite her. “Please, take a seat. I have been waiting for you.”

They quickly settled into the closest chair, hands folded in their lap. The room was quiet and cold; enough to send an uncomfortable prickle down their spine. Arlecchino paid no mind to their uneasiness; her hands were busy deftly arranging the teacups on the tray. Once she was satisfied with their placement, she then moved to pick up the teapot.

“I have some new tea from Liyue,” she hummed, gently tipping the teapot to let the dark red drink fill one cup, then two. Steam rose from each, cutting through the chill of her office. “Hibiscus. It’s quite sour, but I have added a spoonful of honey and sugar to the brew to sweeten it.”

She held one of the teacups out, and they clasped both hands around it with a murmured thanks. As they moved to take it from her, the side of their palm brushed against her fingers—icy cold, enough to make them shiver with a single touch.

“Your night has been well, I am assuming?” Arlecchino asked, taking a sip from her cup.

“Yes,” they murmur, bringing the tea to their lips. It was hot, but just enough not to burn their tongue. The honey she had added did little to mask the sour taste of the hibiscus, but it created a lightly sweet aftertaste that was pleasant enough to warrant a second sip.

“And your days, how have they been?”

They frowned, scanning her expression for any hint of what she wanted. She was clearly speaking to them in search of something, even if she didn’t say it aloud. A mission report, perhaps? They had already submitted the paper copy to her desk, but if she had missed it, or it had gotten lost with the rest of the paperwork handed in that day, she could be waiting for them to recount the mission directly.

“I returned from the mission you sent me on,” they blurted out. “I… it was a success, mostly. No casualties. Minimal injuries. And I also—”

“No need for a summary, I’ve read your report.” Arlecchino cut them off smoothly. “I want to know how you are, not how your mission went.”

They almost choked on their tea. Arlecchino raised an eyebrow at their sudden lack of composure, and they hurriedly covered it up with a half-hearted cough. “S-Sorry… you want to know how I have been… feeling?”

“That is correct.”

The air was thick with silence and the bitter smell of hibiscus, until they blurted out a quick “Fine! I’ve been fine, thank you.”

“Fine?”

“Fine, yes.”

“Interesting. I have been hearing curious things,” Arlecchino said casually. “Some of your siblings seem to have noticed a change in your behaviour. You aren’t sleeping as well, your mood has been significantly worse, you haven’t been joining during social activities. There is clearly something wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” they said weakly. Their feeble attempt at normalcy was nowhere near convincing enough to fool her, and they knew it. They were a passable liar in the best of circumstances, but she was the one person who would always be able to see right through them.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

They couldn’t look at her. One look into those sharp eyes, one wrong word and they would crumble right there in her office. They had to keep it together for as long as it took to convince Arlecchino they were alright and be dismissed from her office. They only needed to hold back the burning behind their eyes until they were far away from Arlecchino and her pressing words and bitter tea, and could quietly fall apart.

She was waiting for an answer, but they could hardly breathe through the lump in their throat, let alone formulate a response. If she stopped now, saw them for what they were—a lost cause—and gave up, it would be fine. But instead:

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, and something inside them snapped.

Tears burst from their eyes, spilling over their cheeks and down their face. They gasped, choking back a cry, holding a fist to their mouth to stop the hiccupping and wheezing breaths.

“I’m sorry,” they sniffled, rather pathetically. They kept their head ducked down low, unable to bring themself to look up into her undeniable face of disapproval. If they were any stronger, they could grit their teeth and make up a spiel about how they would do better next time, but instead they had to cry.

Now, not only were they going to be reprimanded for letting their emotions affect their work, they would be scolded for crying as well.

“Now, there is no need for crying.” Arlecchino stood, scraping her chair against the floor. They flinched away from the jarring sound, shrinking inwards with their tear-streaked face hidden in their hands. As much as they tried to stop them, the tears kept flowing into their palms. The walls were shifting closer with each second, and the thick scent of the tea filled their lungs until it choked them with that cloyingly bittersweet scent—

They jumped, as something cold touched their fingers. Their hands were carefully pried away from their face, revealing Arlecchino kneeling in front of them, with an unusually concerned expression on her face.

“I’m not upset with you, dear.” She said gently. “If that is why you are apologising.”

“You’re not?” they asked slowly. It had to have been a lie, but with how softly she said it, a part of them couldn’t help but wish it was true.

“Of course I’m not. But do you know why I’m not upset with you?” she asked. Hesitantly, they shook their head. “I’m not upset in the slightest, because I know whatever is clouding you is something that you will work through. You will emerge the victor of this battle, no matter what it is.”

They made a strangled sound, and felt a new wave of tears form. Arlecchino sighed, pulling them to their feet and against her chest.

“You are strong,” she said softly, carding her fingers through their hair. “You are capable. You are able to overcome whatever hardships you are facing, no matter how much they wear on you.”

She kissed their temple, her cool lips feeling almost warm pressed to their skin. While she lingered there, she whispered to them, softer than a mother’s touch. “You are strong enough to face this on your own, but even if you aren’t you will always have me here behind you.”

Their hands stretched out to grab the back of her jacket, shuddering out a breath. If Arlecchino minded their teary face being pressed against the front of her clothing, she didn’t comment on it; she only murmured more reassurances as she held them close.

“Just breathe, dear.” She whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #[ interstellar teashop ☆ﾟ. ] #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #—stellaronhvnters. #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #arlecchino x reader #platonic arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic x reader

[nyoomiin]

roommates: part one.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

masterlist. next.

Needle and thread in your hands, a hum dancing under your breath. A bell chimes as a door swings open, and two hushed, urgent voices can be heard. You look up from your sewing.

One, a brunet with a charming grin, and the other, partially hidden behind him. It catches your eye — those violet eyes brimming with curiosity, meekly peeking through long hair, blue as the wine-dark sea. You’re struck with a faint surprise, then a surging sense of excitement.

“Archons, you’re perfect,” someone breathes.

It’s you.

You awaken, mood tinged with a secondhand embarrassment you can't quite place. Stretching as you clamber out of bed, you try to recall the dream you just had.

It's futile. It drifts away.

You're excited to meet your new roommate.

Your previous one had left after he got his own house, so you've had the place all to yourself for the past few months. Frankly it was getting lonely, as peaceful as it was. The "rooms” your landlord rented out were more like apartments, really, with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen.

You hope you get along with them, whoever they are. They'd be arriving today, you think. You wonder if they like soup.

Just then, you hear clinking keys, and the front door swinging open. Standing eagerly, you rush to greet your housemate, nervous and delighted all the same. You turn the corner to look, and —

— “Archons, you’re gorgeous,” you breathe.

Sharp-eyed and porcelain skin, a slender build and hair a royal blue — not to mention the way his outfit brought out everything good in him to a tee — white, and blue and utterly angelic. You only realise you’ve said something completely out of pocket when you notice the expression on his face.

You blink.

He doesn’t.

… Whoops?

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you,” you say cheerily, introducing yourself. You decide never to think about how absolutely horrendous your first impression must be ever again. “Do you need help moving your things? I made soup for dinner — do you want some?”

He shoots you the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen. “Where is my room?”

“Oh! Ehm, it’s the door furthest down the hall, and the bathroom’s the one closest to the living room.”

Saying nothing more, he brushes past you brusquely. Seconds later, a door slams shut with a resounding thud.

You frown, huffing. What a cold guy. Still, did he have to react like that…? Maybe he was shy, or something. Your… blunt comment would’ve caught anyone off guard. Anyway, pretty people are always difficult at the start, you think, reminded of how unapproachable you believed Alhaitham to be before you had befriended him.

Well, you’d just have to try again another time.

Knocking on his door, you call, “I left you some soup in case you get hungry later. Remember to heat it up before you eat.”

You don’t get a response, but you can hear his shuffling footsteps, and you decide that was enough for now.

( Inside, the wanderer curses everyone and the gods above.

To ‘rehabilitate him into society’, Nahida had basically forced him into… whatever this arrangement was. Now, he had to deal with you too?

You knock on the door then, and he stiffens.

“I left you some soup in case you get hungry later,” you say. “Remember to heat it up before you eat.”

He scoffs. Truly, what a fate worse than death. He’d find a new place to stay as soon as possible. The past was no more, and thus there was no longer a reason for your life to be entangled with his.

His heart thuds a slow, steady beat. It's a sensation he has yet to get used to.

Unwilling as he may be, he wonders if your soup still tastes the same as it did all those years ago. )

#—stellaronhvnters. #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin #decided to split the oneshot into chapters bec yes

[tragedy-of-commons]

no pickles

stellaron hunters & gn!reader | wc: ~750

In which they get your order wrong. Kafka, dear friend that she is, decides to make it known.

tags/warnings: crack, reader is not described, vague canon-typical violence, comedy, found family, everything is platonic

notes: oops updated formatting

When you first joined the Stellaron Hunters upon Elio’s suggestion (death threat), you never would have imagined the scene unfolding in front of you now.

Silver Wolf is double-dipping a greasy french fry into a dollop of ketchup. Kafka is dabbing her mouth with a napkin after her only sip of whatever soda she decided to humor, and Blade is standing guard by your table like some kind of intimidating fast-food sentry.

You, squished between all of them, lament your existence. Sam got to stay behind to “keep watch”, but you know the truth. His robot suit would terrify any children within a fifty mile radius, and this CosmiBurger is teeming with them. 

“Silver Wolf,” you mutter.

“I’m not sharing,” she answers immediately.

“That’s not what I–! Ugh, whatever. I was gonna ask why you chose this place for lunch. Don’t you think it’s a little below our pay grade?” “We don’t get paid, newbie. Elio doesn’t cover us eating out, so we have to be cheap.”

“You’re just saying that because you blew our budget on Roblox Premium,” you deadpan.

Kafka interjects. “Look on the bright side, hm? The novelty here is something we rarely get to experience - and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bladie this happy.”

You spare a glance at your colleague. His scowl speaks for him.

Ignoring the fact that apparently Kafka’s got jokes now, you heave a sigh and poke at the lump of foil in front of you - a tangible warning of an impending stomach ache. The burger inside will have to serve as sustenance if you don’t want to wait twelve more system hours to eat.

Since Silver Wolf is now preoccupied with one of her handheld consoles, you don’t delay with your squabbling any longer. When you unwrap it and take your first bite, you’re blindsided by the overwhelming sour note of what can only be The Condiment That Shall Not Be Named. You can’t obscure the subsequent (ugly) scrunch of your brow and lips.

“Cyanide?” asks The Gamer That You Will Strangle One Day.

You glare at her and deposit your now even-more-unappetizing sandwich on the table. “You wish. They, uh, just got my order a bit wrong.” There’s a contemplative hum from your side that makes your heart skip a beat. Kafka stops playing with a strand of Blade’s hair to give you a coy smile. “Is that so?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” you complain. “It’s not a big deal, I’m just not a fan of pickles.”

“You should ask for a replacement. After all, you did mention that in your order,” she drawls.

You bristle. “I doubt the employees get paid enough to put up with that.”

Blade speaks for the first time today in that gruff tone of his. “You draw the line there? You’ll slaughter on command but stop at inconveniencing the working class?”

“Everyone’s picking on me! Smear campaign!” you accuse, pointing at the brooding man.

You don’t expect a reply from him, which he honors by staring at your outstretched finger with what could be described as murderous intent. Kafka chuckles.

“It’s the principle of the thing, darling. I’ll handle it.”

“Wai–”

You don’t get another word out before she confidently rises from her seat and saunters over to the register, leaving you with your jaw on the floor. 

Silver Wolf is back to blowing bubblegum and spawn-killing some poor sap, but she makes the time to snicker at your plight. “That’s weak, newbie.”

All you can do is become an idle passenger in your own body as the scene unfolds in front of you. Maybe you try to stop her, but Blade’s lanky arm blocks your path. 

Sometimes you wish she’d just have a little more fear. Kafka converses with the cashier with her innate allure as you resign yourself to your fate of public humiliation.

The words audible over the ringing in your ears sound through the air in Kafka’s dulcet voice.  “They asked for no pickles.”

When she returns from the counter two minutes later with your presumably correct order, you’ve already decided that today has been the most harrowing twenty-four system hours of your long-life. Your stupor is cut short as the new pickleless burger is dropped into your hands like a gift from the Aeons.

“See?” Kafka teases. “It was no trouble at all.”

“..Thanks,” you cough into your hand awkwardly.

Lunch resumes its usual flow, but you’re still stewing in regret that boils down to a simple, bitter thought: You should’ve just ordered the chicken nuggets instead.

#✧ my works #—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail #platonic honkai star rail #platonic honkai star rail x reader #platonic kafka x reader #platonic silver wolf x reader #platonic blade x reader #hsr x reader #hsr kafka #hsr blade #hsr silver wolf #blade x reader #kafka x reader #silver wolf x reader

[yvnaology]

𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ UNDENIABLY GUILEFUL.

꒰ jealous! lyney x reader ꒱ ⋮ 1.2k wc, friends to lovers trope, confession scene, romantic hurt/comfort (barely) to fluff, no pronouns specified for reader, lynette & freminet cameo, merged request, dialogues chosen by both requesters will be in bold. requested by @fairykazu & @ceneid [ thank you for requesting !! ]

[ ✐ᝰ REQ. 02 + 06 ] FONTINALIA FILM FESTIVAL !

He kept his gaze settled onto his custom-made cards, he skillfully shuffled the deck - all while trying to ignore the person eliciting playful giggles and light slaps against his arm from you. The gentleman was quite the charmer, earning your undivided attention. Earning, more like stealing.

“Are you sulking?” Lynette asked, noticing the slump of his shoulders and the slight twitch of his fingers, usually so adept and versatile, halted at the sight of the man’s lovestruck stare that was painfully apparent to be directed at you.

“No, i’m not.”

He felt one of his cards slip out of his hands and onto the grime.

“It looks like you are.”

He sighed before leaning down to pick up the card, the faint stain of dirt on the edge causing him to groan. “I just..”

The half-feline only crossed her arms at his hesitance, a trait he didn’t commonly have. “You just what?” she pressed, urging him to spill whatever was holding him back.

“I shouldn’t be sulking over it.” he finished with a weakened smile, before Lynette uncrossed her arms and put a hand on his shoulder - gently turning him to face her.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t be - but you are.. and that’s okay.” she replied as she took the card out of his hand, pulling out a handkerchief from her hat as she prepared to wipe off the smear of filth.

“Is it?”

“Mhm, but you like them, don’t you?”

He felt the tips of his ears burning, but once reminded of the sight of you teasingly poking your smitten friend’s arm - they immediately cooled. “I do, but..”

(Why would you ever bat an eye at him?)

His sister was as perceptive as he was, he didn’t dare hold any doubts about that. She placed the card into his palm before nudging his shoulder. “But nothing, you need to believe in yourself more.”

“But what if they already—“

“Go.”

“What?” he inquired, as she pointed her finger right at the table you and your friend were sitting at. “Give them a show they won’t forget, that’s apart of our job - isn’t it?”

Genuine confusion spread throughout every square inch of his face as he listened to her suggestion. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Figure it out.”

He contemplated her recommended choice of action before lifting his gaze from the ground, noticing Freminet approaching your table with slow, steady steps. What was he doing?

His lips were moving, blonde bangs covering his eyes - clearly communicating with you until your eyes darted towards Lyney’s slumped over figure. His amethyst colored irises immediately averted to the ground once more, before he hears footsteps. He looks dejected, like a cat unable to find its owner - like a magician without an audience to perform for.

“Did you want to sit with us?” were the first words that came out of your mouth, finding himself with bated breath as he shook his head. “I was originally planning to show you my latest tricks over tea, but it seems as like you have... company.” his voice gradually deceased decreased in volume, only confirming your suspicions that he felt a certain way about your companion.

“You can come perform them at our table, i’m sure he won’t mind.”

“He’ll go, he’s just feeling the pre-show jitters.”

“Lynette!”

The sudden interference from his dear sister made you chuckle, a reminder that their relationship would forever remain just like this - close, full of trust and playful affection. It was the kind of relationship most would feel envious of, but it only warmed your heart a little more when Lyney’s hand tapped his leg, it appeared almost instinctive. Was he nervous?

You led him over to the table you and your friend were sitting at, taking your seat and watching him pinch the edge of the flat brim before removing the hat from his head - flipping it over and noticing your friend’s uninterested expression. “Not to worry, I promise this’ll be worth it.” he affirmed.

“Just remember to keep your eyes on me.”

(And to not let your gaze wander to someone else.)

His sentence felt targeted, and the skip of your heart beat led you to believe his words were meant for your ears only. For a second, you forgot there was a third party sitting near you. Hypnotic, utterly alluring his every movement was - trained to capture your attention, and to never let it go.

His finger tips grazed the brim, a key motion you were almost certain had something to do with the oncoming trick. He presented the inside of it to the two of you, empty, as expected. He twirled the band with his digits, before turning the hat over once again and aiming the bottom of it upwards - watching as an ethereal dove emerged, carrying a rainbow rose in its beak. Its winged flight only lasted for a few short seconds, before landing onto the table and dropping the stem beside your plate of macarons. You eyed your comrade’s annoyed expression, furrowed eyebrows and a frown etched on his face as he suddenly stood up.

“Oh? Weren’t the biggest fan of this one?” Lyney innocently inquired, after all - he didn’t find anything wrong with it. The male only muttered a few impolite phrases before pushing his chair in and leaving the scene. “Hm, I presume he must’ve gotten the hint?”

“Or you scared him off.”

“Or the dove scared him off.”

“Lyney.”

“Yes?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

He hummed, strutting forward until taking the seat next to you. “I wasn’t trying to be, at least.. not this time.”

“What are we?”

“Friends.”

You grumbled in annoyance at his snarky answer, leaning in until your faces were centimeters away from each other. “Friends don’t do the things we do and this just proves my point.”

“This?” he questions, though you knew that he was aware of what you were referring to.

“You were jealous, weren’t you?” whether he wanted to get his hidden point across or scare away the other spectator was something you weren’t sure of just yet. The grin plastered on your face was always a welcoming sight, if only it weren’t used to poke fun at him.

“Don’t tease me.” he grumbled, before pulling your hand into his own and twiddling your fingers idly. “At least admit you like me to soothe my poor, utterly broken heart.”

“I like you too.”

“Do you?”

“More than you’ll ever know.”

From three tables away, Freminet watched as Lynette washed down her Madeleine with a cup of green tea. The air surrounding them filled with a warm familiarity that only occurred when you two were in the center of it all. Though, Freminet could feel his sister’s ease by the lack of rapid movement in her ears and tail. A leisurely pace that enveloped the atmosphere, causing it feel as if time itself had come to a stop.

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Freminet worriedly asked, noticing Lyney’s pouty expression from a distance.

“Don’t worry, they’re fine.” Lynette reassured before turning her head over to you two - encouraging Freminet to do the same. His worry vanished in an instant the second he noticed your arms wrapped around each other, staring into each other’s eyes before your finger poked his nose - causing the magician to let out a sweetened giggle.

“They look happy.”

(And would continue to be so.)

#—stellaronhvnters. #astronetwrk #lyney x reader #genshin x reader #lyney x y/n #lyney x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines

[azullumi]

"honey in your mouth when you say my name" ; aventurine

premise— happiest birthday to the man who had stardust on his wake and the sun for a soul; he was warm and he was everything you have ever dreamed for. this is a gift to the man who knew cruelty all his life but remained kind despite the cracks and blood on his skin.

content tags — 2.1 QUEST SPOILER, established relationship, soft aventurine (WE SAY IN UNISON), angst and fluff, a few metaphors, mentions of death and blood, birthday sadness (idk what u call that), NOT PROOFREAD I DID THIS ON A RUSH, 1.4K ; one-shot (bullet-form)

note — i have exams tomorrow and a lot of things due but the moment i heard it was his birthday, i wrote this for him AAAAAAAAAAAAA

AVENTURINE can still remember the smell of rain the day blood filled the line of his vision. It’s horrifying, haunting, sharp in all of its corners as it finds him in a sunny morning when he tries to look for the pieces of himself scattered on his floor, hidden beneath the carpet (and when he lifts the pattern, he’ll find torn and broken memories of when he was still young and loved). For this reason, he is not really into the prospect of celebrating his birthday, not when the day is intertwined with grief.

He avoids telling people of his day, avoids thinking of it by burying himself in hundreds of paperworks and cases to handle. He can’t think of that day without thinking of death, without thinking of his sister who laid lifeless in the golden sands (she probably thought of him in his last moments), without thinking of his mother who prayed even when her knees and hands are bleeding (the rain came to her as a blessing, but for him it has become a curse), and without thinking of his father who never got to hold his son (he never knew what he sounds like).

He’ll remember everything, that was his curse.

He never celebrated that day, not anymore, not even once. Perhaps he tried, perhaps he went into the bakery with the thought of getting himself a cake and lighting a candle, perhaps he tries to seek beauty on the day that he was born, especially when it coincides with the day of rebirth of his goddess. Perhaps he did and perhaps the cake was left rotting in his fridge because he can’t seem to enjoy the taste of it when its reminiscence of the bitter rain and fresh blood. 

(He can’t bear the thought that silence was his only companion either) He’d like to think that the meows of the critters as they approach him translate to words that greets him a happy birthday, but how could they? It’s a silly thought, it’s not like they can understand him nor any of these stupid traditions, and it’s not like he can understand them either. So he still remains alone.

But there, you came—unexpected, unwavering. When you learnt of his birthday, when he told you of his past and every line that exists in his being, a shell of determination washes on the shore of your thoughts. It didn’t have to be grand, it didn’t have to be extravagant; you only wish to make the day memorable for him, even just for once. You wanted him to let go of the thorns and feel how nice it is to have nothing that makes your hand bleed.

Although, you must admit, you were anxious, scared, nervous, everything while you were preparing for it. I mean, sure, it’s just going to be something simple with you and him only, and you made sure that in some aspects of it, he’ll enjoy it. You know that the burden he carries is heavy on his shoulders, and letting go is never easy nor simple, but for once, you wanted to do something for him to ease the tension that lies in his thoughts and bones.

Imagine the surprise and confusion on his face when he comes home to his apartment smelling like freshly-baked bread, tangled with the scent of lit candles and flowers, and the aroma of food. Surely, this wasn’t a burglary, right? What type of burglar would leave rose petals on the path of his doorway leading to wherever? What type of burglar would spend the time to bake a cake and even cook dinner? And what type of burglar would dress up so pretty and smile at him while their hands are trembling behind their back?

There’s the sound of his voice calling out to your name and soon, he heard something cluttering followed by rushed footfalls, and there you were, peeking behind the wall with a nervous grin plastered on your lips. You greet, “You’re home early, I thought you were going to be late?”

“I was going to be but I decided to bring some of the leftover papers home instead. I didn’t know you were going to come by, you should have told me.” He answers, taking off his dress shoes and placing it on the rack, “I could have come home much earlier if I knew.”

You laugh, emerging from behind the wall, “It’s fine, it’s fine.” You try to find the words to say in your trembling palms and fidgeting fingers. If he knew of what you were planning, surely, he would stop you and you didn’t want that. Albeit you don’t recall him saying he didn’t want nor like celebrating his day, but he did mention that he simply avoids it—does avoidance equate to dislikeness or hatred? It was plaguing your mind.

He hums, ushering you to come close to him so he can wrap his arms around your figure, engulfing you in a hug as he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder. “Why are you so dressed up? What’s the occasion? I don’t recall setting a date for the both of us tonight.”

“Do you not remember?”

Panic quickly shot over him like a bullet as he stood up straight from his position, “We have plans tonight?! There’s nothing on my schedule for today so I thought.” He’s quick to utter apologies, anxiety seen on his face as he spoke. It breaks your heart a little hearing what he’s saying—he doesn’t even remember.

“‘Rine, it’s your birthday.”

Silence.

Disbelief outlines the line on his lips, “What?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling like there is something that wraps and binds around your chest which suffocates you; It was your turn to panic, feeling it overwhelm the nerves of your body, “You mentioned it once, perhaps a few months ago. I wanted to make it a little special for you so I prepared something for us, for you. It’s okay if you don’t want to, I mean I can just—”

You were interrupted by him, your sentence cutting short, “Oh, love, you didn’t have to.” He cups your cheek, warmth seeping into your skin. You didn’t listen to his voice for so long to not be familiar with how it cracks and breaks when the words fall from his lips.

“But I did and I wanted to.” You answer, softly, reassuring him as you lean into his touch.

“Having you beside me already makes it all special.”

You laugh, eyes forming into a small crescent that reminds him of the moon, “And I want it to be more than just that kind of special.” And he sighs upon hearing your answer, it’s not one of frustration but it still has worry forming on your stomach as you swallow, “Are you mad at me?”

“No, how could I ever be mad at you? I’m just surprised.” He brushes the pad of his thumb across your cheek, gazing into your eyes with such affection and adoration as if the stars were born from his eyes. He presses a kiss on your forehead, whispering to your skin as if a small confession, “Thank you.”

How could he ever be worthy of you?

You hum, "I love you, Kakavasha."

Aventurine is grateful—it fills every gap and crack on his skin, soothing the scars of his flaws, and everything that sets him apart from his humanity. He never knew that cakes could taste this sweet, so kind and gentle as it melts on his tongue.

Slowly but surely, he soon let the warmth settle in his skin. The gray walls that surround that day are soon painted and drawn with different colors, with doodles that were made by your hands mixed with a few of his works. Perhaps the ocean of his grief will still haunt him but he won’t drown in it, nor will he find comfort in the cold embrace of nothing and everything that rejects him.

(Kakavasha, your sister would be so happy for you.)

And when the day comes once more, he’ll see and dream of the rain but not how bitter and heavy it was, but how it soon became warm and sweet, washing away the blood on his feet.

special mention to @toorurs, thanks for always being there for me even when i say the most nonsense of things or when my sheep genes are acting up 😔 i hope everything is going well for you and will go well for youuu!! sorry for being inactive AND NOT REPLYING TO YOUR TIKTOKS AAAA I SWEAR ILL BE MORE ACTIVE SOON I WILL REPLY EVEN WHEN YOU STILL HAVEN'T MESSAGED 👆 anyways this is a very short dedication note because gosh i still have to study hejsad ilyyyyy a lotttt please always remember that !!

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#—stellaronhvnters. #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x you #aventurine imagines #aventurine fluff #hsr imagines #hsr x reader #star rail #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai fluff #honkai x you #honkai imagines #honkai #honkai x reader #azul.writes

[akutasoda]

HELLOO

can I request a S/o who always puts others before herself and always gets hurt and injured after :3

you're selfless, im selfish

synopsis - you're rather selfless and they hate seeing you get hurt because of this

includes - blade, luocha, aventurine, boothill

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, angstyy, slight blood mentions, wc - 968

a/n: Hellooo! you didn't specify and i am currently on a massive star rail fixation so i hope you don't mind! if you do please let me know and i'll write another!

taglist - @teddirika, @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss

blade ★↷

↪blade was immortal. he had little care for how many pieces he could be broken down into during a fight as at the end of the day he knew he would still walk away as a blade. weapon's were built to be durable, what kind of 'blade' would he be if he let up at the first sign of danger?

↪he was also used to thinking about nobody but himself, the stellaron hunters became the first exception but he knew they'd be able to take care fo themselves. so it made him suspicious when you'd willingly put him before yourself as what could you possibly gain by doing so?

↪it didn't occur to him just how angry he would get when he watched you get injured for the sake of his safety. not at you despite how much it semed that way. a weapon's job was to protect in a violent manner and his enemies quickly learnt that, especially when his shield would get hurt.

↪he would scold you for throwing yourself into dangerous situations but moved with a gentle contrast as he dressed your wounds. he'd remind you time and time again that he didn't need you to think about his safety, let alone others, and you should worry about yours.

↪but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop you completely and so he would swear that he himself would protect you at all costs despite your insistence of putting him before you.

luocha ★↷

↪despite the coffin that shadowed the merchant, luocha was a healer. someone who followed yaoshi and valued that selfless, healing behaviour and that meant assisting those among the cosmo's in medical affairs for a fair exchange - he was also a wandering merchant afterall

↪he found it rather endearing at first, how you always put those you cared about above yourself. it was rather admirable but he thought less of this trait when it applied to battles. he would prefer you to be selfish and uncaring if it meant you didn't get unnecessarily harmed.

↪especially when it came to you throwing yourself straight into danger for his sake. luocha feared that one day you'd throw yourself into danger for the sake of someone else and he would lose you - he didn't want to carry around two coffins now.

↪he would start subconsciously keeping track of you during dangerous situations, he needed to make sure you didn't do anything too risky. although he didn't mind catering to your injuries, he'd prefer not to stare at his lover's bloody cuts and bruises or whatever injury you accumulated for too long.

↪the merchant may admire that selfless behaviour but allow him to be selfish for once when he places a kiss to your knuckles after dressing your wounds and asking you to stay by his side, to not leave him if he can't get to you in time.

aventurine ★↷

↪aventurine strived to follow the path of preservation, it was a goal of his. achieving this goal was solely for the purpose of protecting his people and those who had helped his journey not hindered it. so when he learnt his original quest was impossible, he needed to strive for something else.

↪he wanted to protect many things and his relationship with you was one of them. at first, he relished in that kindness you showed when you would openly admit or demonstrate how you would always place him above yourself - your selflessness was rather admirable.

↪but he didn't like as much when it meant you'd get hirt in the process. he would not be able to bear losing yet another person he cared about, especially when he had the power to prevent it - especially if you died for him.

↪most of the time, he would be able to prevent you from getting to hurt but crimson was an ugly colour on his lover and he felt a small sense of guilt when he saw it after a fight. you would notice how he'd always be shielding you if you ever threw yourself in danger.

boothill ★↷

↪only two people knew what happened to boothill, himself and the doctor - although some times he didn't think he knew himself. however one thing was clear, he had suffered an amount of pain that pushed his human body to it's limits and bended it to a point of no return. now, he didn't live for himself.

↪recklessness was what probably had landed him in this situation, however when one has a cyborg body how could he not be reckless? he found it rather charming how you always put those close to you above yourself, a noble quality but his perspective changed when he realised just what that meant.

↪he had seen first hand just how little you cared for your safety if it meant protecting someone you cared about. a bittersweet sentiment. it pained his synthetic heart when you would come from a fight all injured and bloody as if it was him in your shoes, he'd be fine. but you had willingly thrown yourself in the way for his safety.

↪he had a metal body, you had a human one - if anything he should be throwing himself in the way as he could be rebuilt. boothill would try so hard to get this message across to you as the last thing he wanted was for you to be pushed to those same limits of pain just for someone who had already been there.

↪he would'nt live for himself but he'd live for you if it meant keeping you safe.

#—stellaronhvnters. #x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr blade #honkai star rail blade #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr luocha #honkai star rail luocha #luocha x reader #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr boothill #honkai star rail boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you

[meidnightrain]

HE IS LOVED❞ - aventurine

summary: he has been many things in his life, loved is one of them

warnings: reader is gn, angst, spoilers for 2.1 penacony quest

notes: maybe this counts as hurt/comfort, i'm not too sure actually. we have another one week to go before his release :)))

taglist(open): @akutasoda , @ryuryuryuyurboat , @toorurs , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @staarri , @rainswept

“what am i to you?” the words falter even before they leave his lips, willing himself not to let his guard down even in front of you.

AVENTURINE has dreaded asking this question, lingering in his mind the first time he knew that he wanted you. your eyes twinkled under the fluorescent lights; they are stars in the lifeless abyss that is his. when the world comes to a standstill, the blaring music of the bar does not bore into the crevices of your brain any longer. everyone is frozen around you; only you two are unaffected by time.

you make him feel like he’s gambling, his heart racing faster than a car trying to beat the red light. it is not exhilaration; it is fear. it is his hand clenched under the table, shaking so violently, waiting for luck to run out eventually. the voices in his head grow, swirling like a sandstorm back on sigonia-iv. 

failure discarded selfish useless pointless coward murderer gambler blessed discarded loser chosen-one mother goddess's beloved crazy murderer

it’s the same feeling he gets when he prays to the mother goddess for the dice to fall in his favor, or his heart will be the price. the sand stings his eyes; it burns him. it takes him back to a time when all his problems were simpler than they are now.

blessed failure discarded loser pointless coward murderer chosen—one selfish, blessed, discarded loser

how does AVENTURINE live, knowing that everyone is gone because of him? why would you ever like him, who has the blood of innocents on his hand? why would you ever care for him, who has brought doom to his entire family? why would you ever love him, who is not worth more than a few copper coins? 

“are you okay?” your voice is soft under the howling sandstorm, and his breaths come off as ragged as he nods your concern away with a gambler’s grin. your lips move, but he cannot hear a thing. the world is too loud for him to hear, and he is suffocating. he faltered—one step, then two. he brushed it off; he stood straight, but he tripped. he is sinking; the floor is made of quicksand, but no one is there to pull him out. it’s overwhelming—the flashing lights and the booming bass—and the colours blur together in a dazzling display that makes him sick and makes him small.

and he can feel you shaking him by the shoulders in an attempt to snap him out of this daze, but he sinks deeper and deeper into this feeling that he has struggled to repress all this while. it makes you feel helpless, his mind spiralling down to where you cannot follow, watching him crumble due to your silence.

chosen-one loser discarded pointless coward murderer gambler blessed discarded useless loser chosen—one selfish mother goddess’s beloved

he does not realise that you have whisked him away to one of the private rooms of the casino. his chest is heaving with every breath he takes; it's like the hourglass he's in has tipped over and AVENTURINE is drowning in sand.

“how can you love someone who can’t even love himself?” his voice does not crack; it shatters in all the wrong places at the wrong time. he is not humiliated, nor is he embarrassed; he is exhausted. he has hidden for so long underneath rose-shaped lenses, kept his cards close to his chest, and hated himself so much that he could never imagine himself being loved. he is undeserving, he is a burden, he is unlovable, he is unlucky, and he is cursed. he is a loser. 

loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser.

you are calm, and the storm quells at the touch of your hand on his shoulder. the sand clears, the grains dissolve from his eyes, and he can see you. he can see the crinkle of your smile and the way the wind plays and tousles your hair; he sees all of you, and you see all of him. "by loving you. with everything that i am, you are not unloveable."

"you may not be able to love yourself right now, but i love you enough for the both of us." your arms enveloped every part of his trembling figure, and he held onto you for dear life, unwilling to let go.

AVENTURINE will never love himself. he doesn’t need to if he has you by his side. for all the love he had, it belonged to only you and his family. 

© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

#🗞️ - honkai star rail fics #—stellaronhvnters. #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr angst #honkai star rail angst #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine

[scribs-dibs]

Japanese Denim

spoilers for 2.1 (aventurine's real name), gn reader, soft aventurine hours <33

wc; 944

You don't miss the breath that blows over your face, relief lifting the weight off of his chest. It's you. He's safe. He can slumber for just a moment longer.

Sunlight is unfamiliar with the planes of his face. It dances across it; gold tracing the curves of his jaw, running playfully in and out of the dip and curve of his nose, contrasting the shadows of his bottom lip. It highlights his lashes, blonde and long and casting dainty streaks on top of his cheek bones. Aventurine —no, Kakavasha— is beautiful even in sleep. He feels ethereal beside you, blurred along the edges, you are just barely able to believe him to be tangible, with the way the morning clouds part to shine down upon him. But he's real, and the both of you no longer reside in the opalescent bubbles of Penacony. You're home. He’s home.

There's a strand of hair that coils over the dip of his cheek. Slowly, like approaching a stray, your hand moves to tuck it behind his ear.

His eyes flicker open before you're halfway there.

Kakavasha is a light sleeper. There isn't time for long rests, what with danger shadowing his every step, coiling around his lungs in the form of fear, deadly memories taking the form of nightmares every time he dares to drift off. You mourn the loss of his comfortable sleep, an apology hot on the tip of your tongue, searing it the longer it stays tucked behind your lips, but his eyes flutter shut again before you get the chance. The embers disperse.

You don't miss the breath that blows over your face, relief lifting the weight off of his chest. It's you. He's safe. He can slumber for just a moment longer.

You cross the remainder of the distance between you, fingers brushing over the fullness of his cheek. There is magic in his returned affections, his bare palms holding you there against him, honeyed skin nuzzling into you. He kisses the heel of your palm, sweet and simple, like it's the easiest thing in the world.

“...Good morning,” his voice is weighed down by his drowsiness, nearly gravely from disuse. You realize that this is the latest he's slept in months, without the buzz of his phone interrupting what little time he lends himself to the vulnerability of rest. His words slur together, a change to the steady, calculated speech he uses normally— at the poker table, at the IPC Headquarters, at all times. Like this, though, exposed and sleepy, he's a bit more upfront. A bit less guarded.

“...‘S so earlyyyy…”

And a lot more whiny.

You've become acquainted with Kakavasha’s greed by now. It is his twin, his shadow, mimicking his every movement and curling around him like smoke ; all-consuming and burning through his flesh. So you aren't surprised when the beast bares its fangs, arms entangling around your middle and holding. It's fair— the pair of you are accustomed to loss, to the feeling of holding someone for the last time before the feeling of them fades away like a faraway memory, your own hands move down to hold him, too. For a sweet, blissful moment it is just the two of you. Your breathing rises and falls in tandem with his, blonde locks tickling the crook of your neck and greedy, greedy hands shifting at your back to tug you even closer. There is a void in Kakavasha’s chest, one that yearned for so long —an open wound— for someone to hold onto, completely and freely, only to have its wants go unanswered. But you are here now, wrapped up tight in his arms, peacefully. He'll be damned if he lets go now.

You sigh, and it blows past his ear, “Clingy today, huh?”

How could he not be? When the gods spited him, when everyone in sight turned his back on him, you still stood firmly at his side, unrelenting. You are more than he will ever deserve, but selfishly he still holds you.

Kakavasha stretches, cat-like, and you can see an expanse of pale skin when the silk of his nightshirt shifts with the movement. He settles right back against you, your legs entangled thoroughly.

“You're comfortable. It's nowhere near my fault.”

To make a point, Kakavasha pulls you impossibly closer. He even makes a point to huff, as if offended you even asked.

“Right, right,” your hand is absentmindedly twirling the ends of his hair with your pointer finger— you don't remember when it got there, but doing it feels so natural you don't question it for another second.

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to cut this time short. I need to get up—”

“Why?”

He says it so quickly you can see he even surprises himself —eyes wide and mouth agape— but he recovers, clearing his throat:

“What's the rush? We have a day off for once, remember?”

He’s pouting. He tries to hide it under the weight of his glare, but his bottom lip, chapped from a deep slumber, betrays him. Kakavasha does not beg, and you are the last person to ever get him to try, after all he’s been through, but his bright eyes seem to plead with you.

“Right,” you agree, nodding simply, “But one of us needs to make breakfast,” you see it, the way his brows furrow further and he opens his mouth to protest immediately, “No, it cannot wait. I’m hungry.”

At that, he scoffs.

“Fine.”

Kakavasha swings his legs over the plush of your mattress, getting up in one smooth motion. You don’t have time to ponder what he’s doing– his hand latches onto your arm and pulls you up with him. Your face breaks into a smile– he cannot bear to part with you for even a moment.

“If you insist, we’ll do it together.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

rbs w/ comments appreciated !!! ty for reading <33

#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail headcanons #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #☆.writing

[toorurs]

a polished stone swept to the shore

synopsis: a night sky full of stars and questions. aventurine can't help but wonder what significance he has to you.

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 1.0k | content and warnings: insecure!aventurine, hurt/comfort, bit of aventurines backstory | ficlet

authors note: dropping this in the night where aventurine realeases jsjejjwwj. also im not really content with how this turned out due to the ending being quite short and rushed.

tags: @azullumi

“what am i to you?  

the words nip into the tense atmosphere, ascending into the air like a plump balloon, floating around until a gust of wind blows by and lets it drift away into the distant sky that is draped in the misty blanket of clouds. 

“what am i to you?” can be interpreted as two different things. the meaning varies from one to another, depending on how one perceives the question. 

“you’ll wait for me won’t you?” a question where every letter plays a significant role. but still, they take over the same role, the letters are equal to one another. fragile, delicate, unsure words that are drowning in uncertainty, that’ll eventually be unable to float above the surface. instead they’re being led to his blood, infusing it with the ugliness of insecurity. 

(but to aventurine it’s a familiar emotion, one he’s been acquainted with ever since he was a child - it’s not a novel feeling. after all, it has always been like this. every time, when he felt a tad of excitement he mistook it as the adrenaline rushing and pumping through his blood, only to be hit with the realization that it was uneasiness - it has always been uneasiness. his hand that trembles under the duvet grips the bed sheets tightly, clutching at the sateen fabric with his fingertips, as he awaits your answer.)

“what am i to you” also translates into “why do you love me? how come you love me? what significant role do i play to be held like this?” puzzlement is the noun that depicts these questions well. he doesn’t understand but at the same time he does. when you love someone, you’d learn and get to know all of their flaws, all of their struggles and problems, all of their wretchedness and misfortune. 

absurd to think that someone who was blessed by a sheer amount of luck experiences misfortune. he’s the blessed one, his luck is a protective charm that keeps him at a distance, but at the same it is also a curse. his good fortune, the good luck that accompanies him is like a blade, a sharp weapon that leaves scars and inflicts pain, to none other than himself. it's his protective charm, the one that preserves him from the cruel world - although everything he wanted to protect was his family. 

he doesn’t understand why it was him, why he had to be gifted with this so-called fortune. he loathes it for making him the sole survivor of his nation, he resents it because he survived every tragedy that fell upon him like the rain. the rain that fell on the day of his birth, the gift of the god, or rather her tears? but he can’t help but love his luck, the only fragments, the only remnants he has left of his beloved parents, sister and kakavasha. 

but then again, was his luck the one that made the two of you cross paths?

was it a mere coincidence that he fell in love with you and you reciprocated those feelings? but how come? 

aventurine wishes to understand.

aventurine isn't the sun. he's not the one that spreads warmth over the people, he isn’t the one who was tasked to make their hearts pump in joy. he doesn't fulfill any of the criteria to be considered a star that shines brighter among the others. even if he were, he’d be all alone, surrounded by his own warmth, a coat draped over his body. aventurine isn't the one that people yearn for when they feel upset.

aventurine isn't a god. he doesn't possess any powers that'd be considered out of this world. he's not the one people stride after and look up to, not the one people plead and pray to when in need. he isn't able to take away the wounds of others, rather, he's the one who inflicts them. scarring their frail skin and putting it in a painful condition, staining dirt.

aventurine is simply just the gem. but, without the sage green crystal he wouldn't even be considered as aventurine. he wouldn't be the gambler that is bound to the shackles of the ipc. he wouldn't be the final victor then, the one that has each and every move precisely planned out. those are the traits that make him aventurine. without them he'd just be a rock then, a mere pebble to be kicked around. abused and tormented by others, used as nothing else but a stepping stone. cheap, worthless, useless, like the loser he is.

he doesn't understand what you see in a hollow shell like him. 

“what you mean to me, you ask? your voice resembles the rain outside that is currently kissing the glass of the windowpane and platters against the big windows. It’s a comforting sound that soothes him and lulls him into a peaceful slumber.

“mhm.” aventurine hums in agreement and tries to stay as quiet as possible, fearing that he might break this dainty moment if he were to utter a sound too loud. 

“well.” you say in an amused tone. “if you really wanna know, you're like a prince, prince charming kind of?” your voice cracks a bit at the last part, its sweet aventurine thinks. 

“oh yeah? how come?” aventurine tries to sound confident, masking his curiosity with certainty. 

“well you know. i’m like the damsel in distress and you’re the knight whom i wait for. you know in those fairytales, when they wait for an eternity for someone to rescue them and immediately fall in love head over heels with their savior who never gave up on them even after so many failed attempts from others and himself, right?” you ask him.

(aventurine isn't too well acquainted with fairy tales. he never got to read them when growing up, he never had the chance nor the opportunity to do so.) 

“yeah of course.” aventurine plays it off smoothly, fearing that you might question or judge him and his past. (he knows you wouldn’t but he can’t help to think so.)

“well, there you got your answer!” you giggle. 

your words translate into: i’d always wait for you, even if it meant to wait for an eternity. but they also translate into: you’re determined to have me, to know me, to love me and so do i.

aventurine isnt the sun, neither a god. the man that you had lying beside you was the man of your dreams - or rather your fairytales.

e/n: it's 1 am and i have a math exam tmrw which i havent learned for, instead i wrote this 😔😔 © TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #aventurine imagines #aventurine x gn reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #aventurine x you #toorurs #—stellaronhvnters.

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒 , various !

synopsis: when you bring your friend to ikea to help you pick furniture for your new apartment. Pinning ensues amongst other flustering events.

including: zhongli, childe, diluc, kaeya, thoma,

side comments: pure fluff! also, please buy your furniture second-hand and support small businesses! avoid fast furniture when you can (ikea) and make mindful purchases. let's briefly imagine a perfect world where ikea is ethical and sustainable.

extra: mentions and implications of marriage, gn reader, favourites: zhongli & kaeya word count: 1,784

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈

Being the friend he is, Zhongli would happily accompany you.

He is the type to have his hands behind his back as he follows you around. Lingering close yet respectfully enough.

If you ask him for consolation, he will be honest in the most tender way possible:

"Ah... perhaps this colour will be more suitable considering the lighting."

"You did need a new couch, right? I believe you will like this one."

You blink and then your cart is full.

Zhongli's advice is acutely precise, however, expect to exceed your original budget by another ghastly $500.

Not that he suggests buying unnecessary items, rather, he suggests quality, material and construction.

Begins speaking a tad excessively about colour coordination and lightning.

He will help you lift any furniture parts if need be!

Gradually, the trip would become a joint effort by the two of you. As if you've been shopping and living together for years.

"Look at the dining table ( Name )," Zhongli commented. The lighting of the room glittered above, illuminating your face slightly as your hands glide over the wood varnish. "It's wonderful, isn't it? You'd be able to hold all the dinner parties you wanted."

You smile gingerly, and soon you are standing next to him by the kitchen sink. "Definitely, Childe would no longer have to sit on the floor."

Zhongli chuckles and you share a teasing grin. "At least we picked out a table already- much cheaper."

Zhongli raises an eyebrow, "Oh? Perhaps we can consider this one instead?"

"Personally, I think you should agree with him," spoke an employee- a soft-spoken elderly woman- "I remember when I first bought my fiancee's dining table- fun times!"

"Oh ma'am we're not-"

"Yes, my fiancee and I do agree," Zhongli gazes towards you're slightly flushed figure and smiles gently, "Yes dear?"

You blink for a few moments; gaining your footing before replying smoothly, "Why of course, how could I not love?"

You don't notice it, however, Zhongli shares a faint blush as he later pretends to cough in his fist.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

Childe has zero taste in furniture.

His mom would choose the furniture while he used his card.

Browsing through the showrooms and picking furniture is not how he would choose to spend his afternoon, however, he'll try for you!

In this case- it's the thought that counts.

If you need help reaching or lifting anything he'll do it readily.

Don't have a cart or bag? (There were lots) Childe will hold it all for you!

It becomes an inner competition to some extent to cover up for his obvious lack of skill in furniture and home design in hopes of impressing you.

“Excuse me young man, can you please reach the duvet covers for me up top?” asks a elderly man, an embarrassed smile gently plastered on his lips.

Childe turns his head towards the man and flashes a hearty grin, “Of course.”

With ease, Childe grabs the duvet set and hands it to him, “Ah, thank you,” the man pauses before speaking, his eyes in thought, “might I ask something?”

Childe blinks and replies, subtle curiosity beneath his lighthearted tone, “Go on.”

“Have you asked your partner out yet?

Childe fumbles a bit and the elderly man heaves a near boisterous laugh. "I'm taking that as a no, ay? Ah, young couples! I might not have the sharpest eyes anymore, but you've been lookin' at them since the kitchen showroom!"

Before Childe could express a response, the man pats his back and smiles. "Best of luck! I'm sure they'll say yes."

The man then ambles away and from a distance, Childe can see his small figure fade into the throng.

"Hey Childe! Are you alright?"

"Oh... um yeah!" prompted Childe, "Is there anything else you need?"

You shake your head, your fingers scrolling through the list you made, "That should be it. Are you sure you're okay? If you'd like I could hold the vase?"

Childe smiles while his bright blue eyes pool into yours, "No I'm good, let's head to check out."

The two of you saunter to the check-out counter side by side; bantering with each other. Childe's gaze never leaving yours.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐑

Diluc is not well-versed in design and colour. However, he has a keen eye for both style, price and functionality, unbeknownst to him.

You were hesitant to ask him if he could accompany you as it is without a doubt that Diluc Ragnvindr is a busy man.

Diluc himself shared hesitancy for opposing reasons.

Diluc has lived with himself and has found his dwelling to be dull in comparison to the liveliness and hospitality your former apartment held. Thus, Diluc wondered if he could be of any help.

Nevertheless, you reassured him that you wanted company regardless of his skills.

Contrary to his words, Diluc was quite valuable, especially when navigating the place.

"I found the blanket you were interested in earlier, do you still want it?"

"The colour is rather flattering... but it is your choice! Um... please don't mind me."

"Do you need help?"

Diluc doubted his opinion, however, you found yourself agreeing with him several times.

You and Diluc were currently sitting by the opposite edge of a bed, your hands inches apart.

"A comfortable bed isn't it?" you bounce on the bed a little, a smile reaching your lips, "And the mattress is only $200, a king too! I can't believe you found this deal-"

Diluc does not hear your voice, it faded just as the lights mellowed and the sensations of the blanket against his calloused hands grew fuzzy.

"... Hey Diluc?"

"Ah, yes," Diluc coughs before asking, "I'm sorry what were you saying?

You smile, "It's all good! I was just explaining how I wouldn't need such a large bed for myself."

Diluc conveys a slightly puzzled expression, "How so? If you're worried about how to carry it into the apartment then you do know that I'll assist you-"

You shake your head fervently before replying, "Well thank you Diluc! But really you don't have to-"

"Oh no, I insist."

You smile winsomely before carefully replying, "It's just... me in the apartment. I'd understand if I was living with someone- but it's not worth it in my opinion."

Diluc pauses, contemplating before replying steadily, "I believe you deserve the mattress..." There is a tentative gap between his words before he follows up, "Perhaps I... ah never mind, let's get going. You wanted to eat at Chef Xianling's restaurant for dinner right? My treat."

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇

So you invited Kaeya?

Expect relentless teasing and a carefree-complacent attitude.

However, as much as Kaeya is there for fun, he will readily assist you- not without a tease, however.

"Oh ho? Need my help?"

In regards to style and class... Kaeya can pull himself together.

However, similar to Diluc, there is a dullness to his home.

In fact, Kaeya rarely spends time in his own home: he bounces from place to place. Never lingering longer than is needed or comfortable. It is like an ever-present itch.

Yet, your home has become Kaeya's home too. Unbeknownst to you however.

It is natural for both of you.

Your home has become the longest place he has spent in. He has his space in your home, he even has a toothbrush holder and resident blanket; removing Kaeya from your home would cause an ineffable void.

Regardless of the previous facts, you genuinely invited Kaeya to come for help and company.

Kaeya makes the process entertaining! Instead of contemplating the price tags incessantly, Kaeya will smoothly subdue your worries by toying with the utensils and playing hide-and-seek in the mirror section all while slipping the item you wanted in the bag.

The two of you let loose; unwinding like children who innocently play in the kid's bedroom showhome despite being strangers to each other.

"Kaeya... do we really need this mirror?" you question dubiously.

Kaeya shares a winsome grin. "Why of course," he then gingerly places his hands on your shoulders and leans in slightly, "It holds a rather charming reflection, does it not?"

You gaze at him and sigh, "Charming? You always find ways to flatter yourself."

Kaeya merely smiles. The two of you peer into the mirror: the reflection of two souls gazing back all while Kaeya surmises.

It wasn't himself that he was referring to.

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀

You're in for a treat!

You will (quite literally) get ice cream afterwards.

Thoma possesses all the skills in the "art of making a home."

Need deals or a lower price? Thoma already has a list. What about colour and style? He has a magazine and Pinterest board ready. What about functionality and material? Don't fret! He knows all the washing labels and what goes best with your lifestyle.

Tell him the night before and he is packed and loaded.

Thoma is absolutely thrilled that you invited him.

Shopping for any household items is delightful for Thoma, even more so when the two of you are browsing through all the showrooms and inspecting each countertop.

His favourite section is the kitchen.

If you have a specific budget in mind, Thoma will ensure that not a dollar goes beyond it and he will keep you accountable as well!

However, staying within the budget while scouring the store takes a significant amount of time.

Hence, instead of another $100 added to the receipt, expect another three hours.

The two of you will heave a big sigh when you finally sit down in the car.

Nevertheless, it is all lighthearted and relaxing as the two of you reenacting imagining a space together.

"We'd set the tables over there-" remarked Thoma as he pointed his finger towards the dining table, "And we can house our pans here- it would be so since to have them hanging instead of in the cabinet."

"Browsing through the kitchens is always fun," added a mother, her arms cradling her baby, "Are the two of you living together?"

You chuckle and Thoma's cheeks grow rosy. You then reply amused, "Oh no, he's a friend of mine who I asked to come along."

The mother then shares an embarrassed smile, "Oh I'm so sorry! That was so wrong of me... if the two of you are looking for a hanging pan rack then I remember seeing an installation piece down in the marketplace."

"Thank you," replied Thoma, a smile pressed on his lips, "We'll be sure to check it out!"

As the mother saunters ambles away, Thoma mutters under his breath, "Maybe we should live together..."

"What was that?"

"Oh ah! Nothing," Thoma scratches the back of his neck before responding brightly, "Do you want me to write the rack on the list now?"

masterlist

#writing ᝰ.ᐟ #—stellaronhvnters. #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc fluff #diluc x gn reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x gn reader #zhongli fluff #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x gn reader #childe x reader #childe x you #childe x gn reader #childe tartaglia ajax #childe fluff #kaeya fluff #thoma x reader #thoma x you #thoma x gn reader