inyourgravehcs

[inyourgravehcs]

♡ You're shining already ♡

❥ TAGS: gn!reader, hurt/comfort.

Warm bed, soft pillow, heavy blanket - an indescribable comfort, enveloping body and soul, beckoning deeper and deeper into itself.

...And unfortunately, all this is spoiled by the fact that it's morning. One has to get up and give up the true peace that's so hard to achieve with today's pace of life. Even the sun, breaking through the treacherously wide windows, clearly hinted with its insolent rise that there was no way back to the sleepy world.

Your head felt as if it was molded of lead, and no matter how you moved it, it seemed that gravity itself was nailing the skull with the back of the head to the pillow. Your eyes stuck together under the unbearable weight of your eyelids, which was impossibly hard to fight, but it was still necessary, because falling asleep again was not an option. Your limp, weak body wanted to curl up under the blanket and stay there for the rest of your life, never to see these absurd days full of boring, repetitive life. And the finishing touch was the annoying drilling in your nose: after all, the low humidity was giving your mucous membranes a hard time.

Uncomfortable. Worst morning of your entire life. Even if you had it worse, now it made you feel like a withered twig instead of a full human being, and that pissed you off far more than any possible misfortune that could befall you. You didn't even have the energy to turn around, let alone get out of bed and start the day. Gathering all your will into a fist, you roll over onto your other side with the last of your strength, bumping into something.

Your vision focuses slowly, gradually. The pale flesh tone gradually draws out into indistinct reliefs, then making up a vague blob of muscle. The blurred outlines make up the silhouette of a man's back, and as you look up higher, you come to the conclusion - that silver hair belonged to Al-Haitham. That's right. You're completely oblivious to the pain, not even paying attention to the fact that you weren't alone in the bed the whole time. Your boyfriend was probably still asleep, though.

Deep breath. Maybe if you snuggled up against his broad back, the discomfort would fade into the background and you could fall asleep. Maybe he could be a better pillow than the one already wrinkled and warmed up under your head. Your fingers move awkwardly across the sheet, moving to your lover's side — and then your arm slips over his waist as you nuzzle your face between his shoulder blades and mumble unintelligibly to yourself. Even if the discomfort didn't recede, at least you could find comfort in the warmth of your lover's body.

“Are you awake already?”

The low voice with the slight hoarse notes instantly stirred the thoughts inside your head. So Al-Haitham had recently woken up as well, but he didn't want to leave the comfort of your bed? In response to his question, you only whine unintelligibly, thus expressing your genuine and sincere displeasure with this morning.

The man sighs deeply, and then falls silent, as if in thought. He slowly turns over to face you, trying not to drop your hand in the process. Al-Haitham scrutinizes your face, paying particular attention to your eyes. Your eyelids tingle and sting, but you keep them open as best you can, reciprocating your lover's gaze — so familiar, the intense stare of turquoise eyes, the red flecks which only emphasized the man's seriousness.

“I understand you.”

Suddenly, one of his strong arms is wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him and pressing your body against his while your flushed face finds itself pressed into Haitham's chest.

It’s soft. His relaxed chest hugs your face like a pillow, supporting not only your head, but your soul.

It’s warm. The restrained heat of the human body emanates from the man's skin, soothing and lulling even better than a blanket.

It’s tight. You're pressed by his hand against the supple contours of his muscles with enough force to feel their every curve, but not enough to feel the strain or discomfort of it — a perfect support for your tired bones and limbs, many times better than even the best mattress.

Right. Al-Haitham was just like you — he knew the value of starting the morning on the wrong foot and was smart enough not to make that mistake and not to let you make it. What was the point of rushing off somewhere? He could afford to put all his worries on the back burner, which meant you could too.

You sigh this time, diving deeper into the man's chest and finally closing your eyes. Even if you can't fall asleep again, it's better to rest in the arms of your beloved than to toss and turn in bed, hoping it will get better.

A big hand patting you on the back only confirms this argument.

♡ ── ✦ ──『♡』── ✦ ── ♡

Please note that english isn't my native language and can be awkward at times.

Please don't translate or repost my works without asking for my permission first!

[inyourgravehcs]

♡ Sweet dreams ♡

❥ TAGS: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff. I'm a little late, but happy birtday, Xiao, my beloved.

The clear sky, unencumbered by a single cloud, a blossoming tree spreading it’s wide branches in all directions, the gentle warmth of the sun's rays tickling his skin playfully. A beautiful scenery, previously unknown to Xiao. The blood stained soil, a devastated battlefield, chains of despair curling around his limbs and restraining them — this was what he was used to, not this gentle idyll.

But more important than anything else is the fact that you're here.

He always feared that if your image suddenly appeared in his dreams, he would plunge into the very depths of his ugly mind, disfigured by thousands of years of torment. That he would have to fight himself, protecting a fragile figure that had nothing to do with the vile spawn of the adeptus’ inner demons. What if he had failed to shelter you from this hidden danger? Was his title as your guard valid in that case? How weak would he be if he couldn't even keep you safe from his own subconscious? One thing he knew for sure: If that had happened, he could have been considered to have succumbed to darkness from that moment on.

But it didn't happen.

No, it’s exactly the opposite. With your appearance, it was as if you had healed the bleeding wounds of his mind, and with a gentle touch you had quelled the insatiable karma. With every step you took, flowers bloomed on the ground instead of the scars of the past, and the frozen earth came alive again, giving birth to something beautiful.

He no longer hears voices. He hears only the quiet rustling of the grass beneath your heels, coming closer with each step. It was truly astonishing, How the peaceful silence suddenly puts an end to the calm and gives rise to a newfound anxiety, the source of which is unknown. A new sound beats in Xiao's ears, different from anything he has heard before. Yaksha listens intently to the unknown with his eyes closed, trying to determine its direction - only to realize that it's his heart coming alive because of your growing proximity to him.

There you are, right here, less than a meter away from him. So many thoughts run through the Adeptus’ head at once, almost overwhelming in their intensity, but that ends when you reach out and gently take Xiao's face in your hands. So firmly, but at the same time so tenderly, that peace falls over your lover’s mind. His shallow breath falters from second to second, and he doesn't even notice himself snuggling into the oh so cherished by him palms, squinting his eyes contentedly. So warm and serene... When was the last time he felt like this in a dream? His love-stricken consciousness sighs for you so much that Yaksha can't realize tears coming to his eyes, threatening to roll down his cheeks in thin streams that will never end if so happens.

But that's why you're here. For him. The sight of your lover is pitiful, but also admirable — how strong does he have to be to hold back such untold amounts of pain and grief for centuries? Outlining the delicate skin of Xiao's cheek with a kind stroke, you admire his cathartic state that was yearning to come out for so many years. Your thumb reaches for the corner of your lover's eye as if of its own volition, picking up a heavy tear and brushing it away at the same moment.

He stares at you with a sudden realization, not taking his eyes off you for a moment. Golden irises glisten and shimmer, moistened by such a sudden but welcomed flood of tears. The glow of the wet glare of his eyes gives him a far more emotional appearance.

In that moment, it seemed as if your hearts united. That they beat as one - in unison.

Sighing lovingly, you press your lover's face against your chest, hugging the back of his head. At the same moment, Xiao's breath stops: like a frightened cat, with his eyes wide open, he presses himself against his beloved's heart, not daring to move a millimeter. At this moment, adeptus seems amusingly adorable because of the contrast with his already established image. But really? He was really nothing more than a lost soul, flitting from place to place, hoping to find his ultimate destination. A bewildered creature who had suffered much and put on a thick protective shell. You knew that — knew it better than anyone else, and you knew how to handle it.

A slight smile had been on your face all this time. That's how your lover really is, a lost little chick who's heart is so fragile. You could play an entire symphony on the strings of his soul, and he wouldn't even be able to resist you — but you won't. You're here to save and heal Xiao.

That's why you touch his hair, stroking it and playing with the short, curly strands. A gesture of comfort, full of genuine concern. He accepts it, and accepts it willingly; he clutches tightly to your chest and sighs with relief. The moment was impossibly tender in its sweetness - not even the most exquisite almond tofu could stand next to it. It seemed like it couldn't get any better, and trying to interrupt the perfect moment of union with each other would be a sin — but you had a talent for making everything better. Cautiously, you lifted his chin with your index finger, causing your eyes to meet again. Smiling casually, you lean closer and closer, shortening the distance between your faces…

“Xiao, what's next?! You've been beating around the bush for how long now, constantly stammering!”

...No. He couldn't just recount that moment of the dream to you like that.

“Don't look at me like that!” Xiao exclaimed with his eyes wide open, pressing his hands to his cheeks in an attempt to hide the acute embarrassment he felt. “It's... Personal.”

“How can it be more personal when we're already a couple?”

After taking a deep breath, you roll your eyes, sighing defiantly. No, he certainly looks really cute right now, but you need to know what was next!

“Hmm. Since you won't tell me about that part of the dream, why don't I reconstruct the course of events in reality and see how it ends?”

A sly smile lights up your face, while Xiao is at a loss for words and stammering incoherently, trying to squeeze out some sort of answer.

Of course, you couldn't waste any time at such a perfect moment. You'd shortened the distance between you two in just a few quick steps, and you were already holding Xiao’s face in your hands, recalling in your head his warm descriptions of his dream today. His anticipatory look of excitement couldn't help but awaken in you the very same tenderness he must have been looking for in you the most every time.

“So that's how you see me....”

The Yaksha's confused eyes softened, and his troubled breathing normalized. Swallowing tensely, he only nods eagerly a couple of times, forfeiting the need to be blunt and straightforward with his answer.

Closing your eyes, just as in his dream, you cradle his head against your chest — stroking, caressing the scalp and dark green hair. A perfectly reproduced moment that makes the hearts of both of you belt out an excited tune.

Not without its nuances, though, ‘cause the real you was far more multifaceted than your dream version.

“Xiao," you whispered his name playfully, "I'll be sure to recreate every moment like in your sweet dream... But I'll have to improvise on the part you were too shy to describe.”

♡ ── ✦ ──『♡』── ✦ ── ♡

Please note that english isn't my native language and can be awkward at times.

Please don't translate or repost my works without asking for my permission first!

[inyourgravehcs]

♡ One more, bartender! ♡

❥ TAGS: female!reader, Alcohol, state of alcohol intoxication.

It was no secret to you that bartending is a special, delicate art that reveals itself in all its glory only to true connoisseurs. Only to inexperienced eyes the show provided by the bartender is meaningless. In every movement there is a certain strength and dexterity; the coordination of movements must not be disturbed. Behind each time the shaker is shaken again and again, there is precise control; the fingers need to hold the lid firmly, without releasing the main vessel and controlling the method by which the cocktail is stirred inside. All in all, the kind of task where every stroke could be the last. Still, you can't blame those who don't understand it - you once were an amateur yourself.

Before you met him.

Your fates crossed when you walked into that very bar. The bartender's unkempt appearance didn't inspire confidence, but you wanted nothing more than to get drunk and forget yourself. "Bartender, I'd like a cocktail on your recommendation. And make it quick."

The man's brown eyes stare at you from under half-closed eyelids. In them you can see the tiredness so familiar to you, but together with a polite smile it creates a friendly, kind image for him. Interesting. "Young lady, mixing drinks is not about speed."

"What the difference does it make? I just want a drink…"

"Allow me to demonstrate."

Initially unimpressed, you can't deny that with each toss of the shaker, each Gallagher's trick, your interest grows more and more. Immersed in this small but not the least bit humble performance, you don't even notice how the drink is already right under your eyes. "Your cocktail."

From that day on, your outlook changed drastically.

Alcohol was no longer your first and only priority. The more exciting the process of making a drink, the sweeter the anticipation - and the sweeter the anticipation, the more delicious and exquisite the cocktail feels on your tongue.

You can't even imagine what it's like to ignore your surroundings and get drunk just to pass out and forget all the worries. No, now you pay attention to every detail: the clinking of glasses against the wooden surface of the counter. The unobtrusive but atmospheric music playing from the speakers under the ceiling. The ringing murmur of the flowing stream of your drink base, already remotely giving an idea of it's degree and strength. Hell, even the dim lighting, as if to multiply the intimacy of the moment.

But it's him you pay the most attention to. The way his hand adjusts his loose tie, the way his biceps tense with another shake of the shaker, the relaxed and satisfied expression on Gallagher's face at that moment.

…Well, you're in for a real treat. You couldn't help but feel sympathy for the bartender, and your alcohol-fogged mind was sharpening every detail, leaving you no chance for calm.

On the other hand, was there anything wrong with that? You'd been searching for yourself on Penacony for a long time, and with each system hour the excitement waned, leaving only your true shell, empty and bored. That's why you resorted to drinking, a simple and sure way to feel something, albeit one that would imperceptibly wash out over time and zombify your despairing brain. You wished to dive headfirst into pleasure, intense and oblivious - and what was better to drown yourself in, alcohol or lucid love?

Silence lingers between you and Gallagher for several minutes. Nothing out of the ordinary - the man rolls up his sleeve, stirring another drink. Presented between his index and middle finger, the glass slides flawlessly down the bar straight into your hands. As you taste the cocktail, your eyes shamelessly trace his broad shoulders and back, the embossed forearms and gloved hands, from under the edge of which the twisted outlines of veins inadvertently emerge, the vest taut and creased at his waist, and when your gaze goes lower…

No, this isn't gonna work anymore. You need to hear his voice again. "One more, bartender!"

Your voice catches Gallagher's attention. He turns around and gives you an understanding look - after all, you've had a couple of drinks and you're clearly intoxicated, but who better than him to know how to behave in such situations? "Are you sure I won't need to take you outside after this, Y/N?"

"I am so sure! I can take a hundred more of these!" Despite your loud declarations, your feverish hiccups indicated otherwise. "Can you get me another… Please?"

Well. It was not in his power to deny the request of a regular visitor - especially when she was especially sweet and begged so tearfully for another drink. The process repeats itself: the drink is stirred, the ice cubes clink against the glass walls… In just a few short moments, another Gallagher's alcoholic work of art becomes your own, a greedily gulped down and throat-warming delicacy. The man could look at that satisfied smile forever, but apparently you didn't want to leave him alone with himself, constantly pulling him out of his thoughts. "Hey… What would you do if I told you I liked you?"

The audacity. Just a few newly arrived sips in your system and this is where it gets you? Sometimes he wished alcohol wouldn't bring out the courage in customers like you.

Because Gallagher was well aware that these weren't just drunken ramblings. "Uh-huh. And do you like your therapist too, even if they're just doing their job?" and again, that quiet smile that drives you crazy. "I wouldn't jump to conclusions if I were you."

"Gallagher, I'm serious!"

Your puffed cheeks and a scowl on your face show your displeasure, while the sly man just snickers and shakes his head condescendingly.

Oh, he shouldn't have done that. You'll show him…

As the man hesitates to respond, you take it as a perfect opportunity. Your hands reach for his tie, grabbing and pulling Gallagher to you. After your foreheads collide, you waste no time engaging the bartender in a kiss that's sloppy, assertive, and without a doubt, extremely passionate. The man's stubble lightly tingles your soft skin, only adding spice and thrill to your heated exchange. And even though Gallagher doesn't respond to the kiss, shocked by the situation, he certainly doesn't rush to pull away either. Of course, you wouldn't be you if you didn't use this to your advantage, pressing your lips tighter and more demandingly against his. "One more, bartender." In a casual whisper, the words drip from your lips into his. Breaking the kiss, you don't want to move an inch away from the man, demanding more and not allowing him to escape so easily.

So it was at this point that Gallagher realized he was screwed. What should he do in this case…?

♡ ── ✦ ──『♡』── ✦ ── ♡

Please note that english isn't my native language and can be awkward at times.

Please don't translate or repost my works without asking for my permission first!

[inyourgravehcs]

♡ Him and his cat ♡

• Blade wasn't the type to be easily enthralled by a cute animal with big eyes and a fluffy coat... or was he?

• "Meet Sesame Cake." you show the man a picture on your phone of a cute kitty living in it's sweet skin. At the same moment, Blade's eyes open wide and seem to light up with a rare flame of genuine delight. In truth, the changes in his facial expression were almost too subtle, but as his lover, you learned to recognize them. Without a word, he turned in the opposite direction from you, and only by the corner of your eye could you catch the corners of his lips lifting in a slight smile.

• Well, apparently he had no idea what that was about at all. Oh, he had no idea for real.

• You had the opportunity to visit Herta Space Station at just the right time - there were too many critters being given away. So how could you leave without the cherished Sesame Cake, who so resembles your boyfriend?

• Upon your return home, Blade was in for a surprise. His bewilderment was indescribable — at least because it was as non-obvious as possible and there was nothing to describe — he immediately began to study the amazing creature, trying to find a way to approach it. The dawn of his eyes gazed into the abyss of the cat's eyes, both of them freezing in place, and you could have sworn that at least half an hour this tandem spent in dead silence, not moving or making a sound.

• After the successful introduction of these two, it was safe to say that they had found each other. Sesame Cake and Blade bond at an incredibly fast rate, from Sesame Cake sniffing Blade's hand every other day to constantly spending time together, a process that happens so quickly that it was impossible to notice the transition between these two points.

• Sesame often gets into all sorts of trouble, Quite like his owner. You can be sure that Blade is the first to come to the rescue, inspecting the kitty for any signs of injury and then carefully bandaging the cat's tail, which suffers in such situations more often than not.

• Since Blade needs something to cuddle in his sleep, he now often enlists Sesame's help if you're suddenly not around. On the busiest days, when you go to bed later than he does, a sleepy realm of sweet peace looms over the bedroom, with Blade's arms wrapped around Sesame's rounded form, cradling it closer to himself like a pillow. Surprisingly, the man would rather bring his pet to bed with him than his own dearest sword.

• The cat itself, while equally fond of snoozing on both you and Blade, prefers to fall asleep between both of his owners when given the opportunity.

• Sesame Cake will definitely give Blade more reason to be jealous... except that he'll be jealous of everyone indiscriminately. If you suddenly start petting the kitty, excluding Blade from the picture, he'll experience two layers of jealousy at once - both of you, because Sesame chose you over Blade, and of the cat, because you, as if nothing happened, take ignoring the man as a fact, trading your dear boyfriend for fluffy cat cheeks.

• In the end, Blade has come up with a whole scheme to avoid such situations - Stellaron Hunter will immediately come to lie down on your lap by himself as soon as you take your favorite spot on the couch. This way, Sesame Cake will have to lie on top of his owner, and you'll have the opportunity to use both of your hands: Blade will get unscheduled caresses, and Sesame will be loved from all sides with stroking and scratching on the top of his skin. Two birds with one stone!

♡ ── ✦ ──『♡』── ✦ ── ♡

Please note that english isn't my native language and can be awkward at times.

Please don't translate or repost my works without asking for my permission first!

[inyourgravehcs]

♡ Listen to me ♡

❥ TAGS: hurt/comfort, descriptions of symptoms of mental illnesses (hallucinations, paranoia, painful psychosomatic sensations such as suffocation).

Where in this world can two broken souls find their place if not in each other's arms?

Broken heart and shattered mind. The bloody splinters of the fragments of the past are digging deeper into the wounded consciousness with each step, slowly and painfully bringing the already exhausted mind to it's limit. This is probably how others envisioned Blade; but what about you?

Not everyone is lucky enough to be blessed with a clear, sane mind. Mental torment is not exclusive, but it would be foolish to deny that some are less fortunate in that regard than others. Perhaps that's how you and Blade came together - it's not every day you meet someone who can understand and share that pain even the slightest bit. Your road to trust was thorny and difficult: what's it like, trying to connect when both parties are in constant survival mode and won't just open up to anyone? To meet Blade under the influence of mara was to be chased away and away for longer; to meet you while your mental health is acting up was to hear you mumble unintelligibly that he shouldn't see you in such a state.

But even from such a vicious circle, there's always a way out. In the most vulnerable moments, it becomes impossible to cling to pride: with each bandaged wound on the exhausted body, with each hour spent in shared silence, the relationship between you two became more and more trusting. Here it is - a small island of comfort just for the two of you, found in the most unexpected place. Or is it the most expected?

Slowly, by trial and error, an unusual relationship was formed. Without fancy confessions, without loud words - two soulless shells with empty hearts nestled into each other, sharing the last particles of warmth. You and Blade don't even have to reveal your relationship: to anyone who knows anything about you two, the inference will be obvious. It's hard to see Y/N in a sane state of mind, and it's hard to see Blade in a tolerant mood... But somehow it's this tandem that makes it possible and not such a rare occurrence.

However, peaceful days can't last forever.

No matter how hard you try, frustration won't stop accumulating, even if you apply balm to the inflamed soul. Just one drop - the very last one - and the mind slips into all-consuming despair. The heaviness narrows in a tight ring around your thin neck, digging it's barbed wires into the irritated flesh and denying any access to air. As the resinous, viscous panic drips down the parched walls of the throat, mingling with the salty taste of tears, images take over your sight and hearing. Ugly, garish, unrelated to reality - but no less frightening. Fear shackles every of your limb, and all that remains is to be sucked into the dark substance that overflows the skull to the brim. Through such strong pain and illusions, it would seem that nothing can break through until they collapse by themselves - but one voice, so familiar and close, still finds it's way through the dense veil of madness. That voice...

"Listen to me."

It was his voice. Blade was there; he was clutching your curled body in his arms, shielding you like a wall from all inclement weather. Paranoid fear made you want to break free, but knowing what a bone-crushing embrace this man had, you wouldn't have dared such a venture even in your most disturbed state of mind.

"Listen to me."

The soft strokes on your head sent shivers down the length of your spine. Blade wasn't the type to be verbally supportive - he was generally unaware of the impact his words could have. But what he was saying now... He had memorized Kafka's words that would normally free him from the shackles of insanity. He used this memorized words solely for your sake, unaware that they were more effective than any spirit whisper. You knew perfectly well that he was probably saying it more to reassure himself at that moment and not to seem weak in front of you, but the very fact of using them...

"Listen to me."

Your arms hug him back as your nose burrows into the curve between his neck and shoulder. Your eyes bleed tears, falling onto the dark fabric of Blade's coat and leaving wet stains behind, but neither you nor he cares.

"I'm here for you."

Because you have each other. And as long as it stays that way, machinations of two unhealthy minds aren't so terrible.

♡ ── ✦ ──『♡』── ✦ ── ♡

Please note that english isn't my native language and can be awkward at times.

Please don't translate or repost my works without asking for my permission first!

[inyourgravehcs]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Hello, I'm Kotya and I write things sometimes. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Mostly I write fluff or hurt/comfort drabbles, but sometimes there's what I call “mentally ill” genre: yandere and angsty stuff featuring actual mentions of mental illnesses. If there is some dark content, then it's barely dark because I just don't do that.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Specifics

• I write for female/gender-neutral reader.

• Mostly my headcanons feature men, but there also can be women occasionally.

• Things I strictly don't write for: violence, anything about inflicting pain or fear on partner, choking or breath play, non-consensual relationships.

• Anything other than that I can and will write, but this list can be expanded with time.

• All characters are adults in my headcanons and I think it shouldn't even be considered that there are any minors or I'd write about minors.

• Considering all of this, you can send me requests and I'll gladly write for them!

My main fandoms: Honkai: star rail and (occasionally) genshin impact.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 What about translations?

If you want to translate my works, please ask for my permission first!

Если вы хотите перевести мои работы на русский, не надо. Просто спросите у меня лично если хотите разместить где-то русские оригиналы.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Also, my main blog where I draw:

catnip---tea.tumblr.com