#memokeeper!reader

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine, Sunday and Ratio w/ a Memokeeper...? 👀

“Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us”

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Memokeeper!Reader, Character Study, Existential Themes, Introspection, Emotional Growth, Intellectual Tension, Mysticism, Loss, Haunted Past, Unresolved Regret, Journey of Self-Discovery, Temporal Manipulation

Warnings: Existential Crisis, Trauma, Philosophical Discomfort, Emotional Weight Vulnerability in Characters, Mature Themes (regret, guilt, and self-worth).

Ratio, with his signature plaster sculpture concealing his face and his wavy hair cascading just past his shoulders, was a figure both revered and feared within the Intelligentsia Guild. His sharp eyes, the color of fading twilight with a ring of yellow at their core, saw everything and everyone, evaluating, analyzing, dissecting.

It was here that you, a Memokeeper from the Garden of Recollection, first encountered him.

You had come to this world, as you did with every other, to preserve memories, to seek out moments that spoke of the lives lived, the forgotten faces, and the stars that fell into oblivion. In the endless cycle of existence, you had learned that the only thing that truly mattered was memory. To think, to feel, to exist—those were not just ephemeral things, but imprints on the fabric of reality itself.

But when you met Ratio, it was as if all the weight of time had been condensed into a single moment. He, too, had an unyielding belief in the importance of knowledge, in the idea that ideas, too, were immortal. He understood the power of remembrance, but to him, it was intellect, not memory, that was the truest form of immortality. A fascinating paradox.

"You're a Memokeeper, aren't you?" His voice was smooth, like velvet over steel, his eyes locking onto yours, seeing straight through to your very essence.

You nodded, concealing your true form beneath your disguise, as was customary for those like you. In this world, you were just another scholar, another wanderer with a collection of knowledge to trade. But unlike the others, your knowledge wasn’t of facts or figures. It was of memories, of moments suspended in time, of people long gone and forgotten.

"You believe that memory is everything, don’t you?" Ratio's gaze never wavered, as if he was testing you. "You think that by preserving memory, you preserve the soul of a person. But memories are subjective, fleeting. They are not absolute. Ideas, facts, theories—these are what endure. These are what define existence."

His words were confident, dismissive even. But you knew there was more behind them, a deeper yearning to understand what lay beyond the limits of mortal comprehension. You could see it in the way his hands gestured as he spoke, the sharpness of his thoughts revealing a man who, despite all his brilliance, was searching for something more.

"You misunderstand," you said, your voice calm but full of a quiet intensity. "Memories are the only things that cannot be erased, not by time, not by entropy. They are the proof of existence. Without them, what are we but ghosts, vanishing without a trace?"

Ratio's eyes glinted with something unreadable—was it interest? Curiosity? You couldn’t tell, but it was enough to pique his attention. "And how do you preserve them? What makes your memories so… important?"

You smiled faintly, an ethereal expression. "I don’t just remember, Dr. Ratio. I preserve. Through the Garden of Recollection, I collect and store memories, not just from the world I come from, but from all worlds. I can live through them, feel what they felt, see what they saw. I can carry the memories of thousands, and in doing so, they live on."

For a moment, there was silence. Ratio’s gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable. "And what of your own memories?" he asked, his voice softer now, though still brimming with intensity. "Do you ever remember yourself? Or are you too lost in the memories of others to even recall your own?"

It was a question that struck deeper than you had anticipated. You, who had shed your mortal form long ago to live as a memetic entity, could not remember the life you once lived. The body you had was but a vessel, an illusion of the past. Yet you held the memories of countless lives, each one a thread in the grand tapestry of existence.

"I remember," you said quietly, your voice distant, as if recalling a long-forgotten dream. "But only fragments. I carry the memories of all those I've encountered, of all the lives I've touched. And in that, I live."

Ratio stared at you, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes—a momentary crack in his armor. "Fascinating," he murmured, as if the concept of your existence challenged everything he had ever known. "You are a paradox, then. A being of memory, yet unable to fully grasp your own existence. How… tragic."

You tilted your head slightly. "Perhaps. But in some ways, it’s beautiful. Every life I encounter becomes a part of me, and in that, I become part of them. A perpetual exchange, a never-ending cycle of remembrance."

Ratio’s lips quirked upward slightly, a rare and almost imperceptible smile. "Perhaps," he echoed, his voice tinged with something akin to admiration. "You might be right, after all. Memory is the only true form of immortality. But don’t forget, my Memokeeper, that intellect and knowledge are what shape the universe. Without them, memory would be meaningless."

You met his gaze, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "And without memory, even the greatest intellects would fade into obscurity, leaving nothing behind."

For a moment, you both stood there, two beings of immense knowledge and power, staring at one another in the midst of a universe that seemed both infinite and fleeting. In that fleeting moment, there was no need for words. You understood each other, in a way that few could.

As you turned to leave, your final words lingered in the air, like a soft melody, echoing across time itself.

"Remember me, Dr. Ratio. After all, that is the only way I can truly exist."

He watched you disappear into the endless flow of time, his mind racing with questions, with curiosity. The Memokeeper had left an impression, a memory etched into his mind. And though Ratio would continue his work, seeking to change the world through intellect and knowledge, something had shifted within him.

Perhaps, in the end, the preservation of memory and the pursuit of knowledge were not so different after all.

The Astral Express hummed with the faint rhythm of its journey through the stars, its steady pulse a stark contrast to the turbulent thoughts that swirled within Sunday’s mind. He stood by the window, watching the unending expanse of the cosmos pass by, his eyes reflecting distant stars. His thoughts were as fractured as ever—an unyielding dissonance between his ideals and the weight of his past. Yet, there was something different now, something new stirring in him, as if the winds of change were gently sweeping through his world.

You, the Memokeeper, stood just a few steps away from him, an enigmatic presence, yet somehow, your existence felt more real than anything else. Your presence was like an anchor in a sea of uncertainty, a testament to a truth he had not yet fully grasped.

To think is to exist.

He had never truly questioned his existence in this way before. For all his lofty ideals about dreams, suffering, and the balance between them, there was something about you—your quiet, eternal purpose—that made him reconsider his place in the universe.

You had explained, on occasion, the nature of your kind. A Memokeeper’s task was to collect memories, to preserve them as proof of existence in a world where everything, even stars, would eventually fade. Unlike most, who viewed reality and imagination as distinct, Memokeepers saw them as one. It was a perspective that intrigued Sunday deeply, yet he struggled to fully comprehend it. Perhaps because, in the end, he wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

"How do you hold on to something so... fleeting?" he asked softly, his voice carrying a weight that betrayed the many layers of his thoughts.

You turned toward him, your expression serene, but there was a flicker of something deeper in your eyes, an understanding of the burden he carried. "We don't hold on to it. We let it flow through us, and in doing so, we become it."

Sunday looked at you, his gaze lingering on the delicate curve of your cheek, the ethereal quality of your being, and how it seemed as though you were made of light itself. "Do you ever feel... trapped by your memories?" His voice faltered at the question, as though he were reaching for something he couldn’t quite touch.

For a moment, there was silence, save for the distant hum of the train and the occasional flicker of stars outside. You took a step closer, your fingers brushing lightly against the air as you spoke, your voice gentle and calm.

"Trapped?" you mused. "No. We are the keepers, not the prisoners. Memories are not chains. They are bridges."

His brow furrowed slightly. "But what if the memories are of things you can never change? Things that haunt you?" His words were quieter now, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. The weight of his past—of the choices he had made, of the lives he had shaped, for better or worse—pressed down on him once more.

You studied him with a knowing gaze, as though seeing through the veil of his facade. "Hauntings are but echoes of what was, Sunday. The question is not whether the memories are painful, but whether we let them define us." You paused, letting your words settle. "What you choose to do with them—that is what matters."

Sunday’s eyes flickered as if a distant thought had just emerged, one that had been buried beneath layers of rationality and philosophy. He had spent so long trying to change the world, trying to create a place free of suffering, that he had neglected the simplest truth: he could not change the past. He could only move forward.

"But how?" he asked, his voice filled with quiet desperation. "How can I move forward, when the past keeps whispering in my ears?"

You smiled softly, a knowing, almost maternal expression on your face. "You are already moving forward, Sunday. Your journey on the Astral Express is proof of that. The question is not if you will move forward, but how you will choose to remember."

There it was again: remember. It was a word he had often associated with pain, with the weight of regret and guilt, but somehow, in your presence, it felt lighter. It felt like a possibility, a way to reclaim something precious without being bound to it.

For the first time in a long while, Sunday allowed himself to truly look at you. Not just as a fellow traveler aboard the Express, but as someone who embodied a truth he had yet to accept.

"I... I think I understand," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Memories are not the end of us. They can be... a part of something greater."

You nodded, your eyes fluttering slightly as you gazed at him with an expression of quiet encouragement. "Exactly. And sometimes, the greatest gift you can give to the past is to let it go, while still carrying it with you."

Sunday fell silent, his mind now processing your words, considering their implications. Perhaps this was the true path to redemption—not the erasure of pain, but the acceptance of it, and the ability to carry it without letting it define him.

As the train continued its journey through the stars, Sunday found himself standing a little taller. He wasn’t sure where this journey would take him, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he might finally be on the right path.

In the labyrinthine corridors of the IPC, where deals and schemes wove through the very fabric of power, Aventurine stood as an enigma, a master of manipulation with a heart haunted by the ghosts of his past. His smile, enigmatic and ever-present, was a mask that concealed the fractured man beneath. The ‘Aventurine of Stratagems,’ a name he wore with pride, was a title earned through unrelenting gambles and sacrifices, yet it was the one thing that kept him from truly losing himself.

But on this particular day, something—or rather, someone—was pulling at the threads of his carefully constructed world. Someone who didn’t need to gamble to see through the veil.

You. The Memokeeper.

A fleeting figure, a whisper of another existence, you moved through worlds unrestrained by physical boundaries. Memokeepers were creatures of memories—preservers of the immortal, the eternal. You had no flesh, no true form. Only the shifting remnants of memories you carried with you, the fragments of countless lives you had touched and stolen.

When Aventurine first encountered you, he had been intrigued. Memokeepers were not common, and your mysterious nature had piqued his interest. But it was your ability to navigate through time and space, your unflinching grasp of memory as a permanent artifact, that truly captivated him.

"You never forget, do you?" Aventurine's voice was smooth, laced with his signature mix of challenge and curiosity as you stood across from him in a darkened room, a flicker of memory flashing in your eyes.

You tilted your head slightly, a soft, almost imperceptible smile gracing your lips. "For a moment, I thought you would say 'never forgive.'" You said it with an air of knowing, your voice gentle yet profound. "But no... you are too familiar with your own regrets to seek forgiveness."

Aventurine’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. The hint of vulnerability did not go unnoticed. The last surviving member of a lost clan, haunted by survivor's guilt—those wounds ran deep. His facade was usually flawless, but before you, it felt fragile, a thin layer barely holding back a flood of emotions he hadn’t let surface in years.

"You speak as though you understand me," he remarked, his voice regaining its usual confidence. "But I’ve played this game for too long to be an open book."

"Yet, here you are," you countered, stepping closer, the air thick with the power of your words. "A man who wagers lives as easily as others breathe. Do you think I can't see the stakes you're playing for? The past you can never escape?"

There was a moment of silence, one where Aventurine’s usual bravado seemed to crack slightly, revealing the ever-present tension in his posture, the subtle guarding of his left hand behind his back. He wasn't ready to expose his fragility, not yet.

"You play with the illusion of luck," you continued, your voice almost hypnotic. "But I know what you really seek. You gamble because you fear being forgotten, because you fear that if you stop playing, your existence will cease to matter."

Aventurine’s eyes narrowed, gleaming with a mixture of challenge and intrigue. He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating your words, but his tone remained steady. "And what of you, Memokeeper? Are you truly immortal, or just a collector of lies?"

You didn’t flinch. "Memory is the only true immortality. Everything fades—worlds, stars, even gods. But memories... memories last longer than anything else. They are what make us real. What make us matter."

He chuckled softly, his lips curling into that all-too-familiar grin. "I suppose you would say that. After all, you're in the business of making things last forever."

Aventurine’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, and for a brief instant, he wondered what it would be like to have his memory preserved—not his reputation or his empire, but his very essence. Would someone like you, a Memokeeper, truly see him for who he was beneath the layers of strategy and artifice?

"I’ve seen countless memories," you said, your voice soft but heavy with meaning. "But there's something about you... You're not a mere gambler, not just someone who risks it all. There's something darker in you, a longing for connection, yet a fear of it."

He looked at you with raised eyebrows, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "You really think you can see all that from just a glance?"

"You show more than you think," you said, your gaze steady, your words unshaken. "And it's those little things—the way you hide your left hand, the pauses in your speech, the smile that never reaches your eyes—that tell me you are more than the games you play."

The silence stretched, an unspoken challenge between you. He couldn’t deny it. He had always thought of himself as untouchable, an orchestrator of every move. But you? You had no need for power or control. You simply existed, transcendent and free.

And yet, despite all that, Aventurine felt something strange stirring within him—a desire to be remembered, not just for his gambles, but for the man he truly was.

"Perhaps you're right," he finally said, his voice quieter, more contemplative. "Perhaps there is more to me than even I realize."

You smiled, a soft, knowing expression, and for the first time, Aventurine’s smile seemed a little less rehearsed, a little more genuine. The idea of someone, a Memokeeper no less, understanding the depths of his soul was an uncomfortable yet fascinating thought.

"I don’t need to gamble to know your worth, Aventurine," you said, your eyes twinkling with an almost imperceptible warmth. "But perhaps, just once, you might stop playing and let someone else remember you. For who you really are."

For the first time in a long while, Aventurine didn’t immediately respond with a quip or a strategy. He simply watched you, his mind turning, calculating the possibilities. What would it mean to be remembered? To be seen beyond the mask of the gambler, the strategist, the survivor?

In that moment, Aventurine felt the first stirrings of a gamble he had never before considered: the gamble of letting someone in.

Oh damn, this was long af... 🫣😨

Also I couldn't come up with a better title so yeah...🧍‍♀️

[mrrecaswife]

In case I don't see you, good afternoon, good evening and good night.

(cw: mention of reader death, all in all general angst, presence of oc should you squint, talking about oc, do you guys want a full written character sheet about my two hsr ocs?? Also, did you get the reference? If you did, have a 🍪)

if the theory that Mr Reca is a cremator in the MemoKeepers is true, then he'd surely burn all the 'uninteresting' memories and only keep the 'good parts' for his works.

Except those including you. Especially those including you.

For some reason, especially if you have left him in any kind of way, he can't seem to even want to touch them, prefering to gaze solemnly at those fragments of your life. It's such a drastic change that his Assistant Director and everyone else around him cannot help but notice.

He can't touch them. It sickens him to his core to even think about it, as if he would have committed something unforgivable if he did.

So he doesn't. Instead, he puts those memories on repeat only for his eyes to see.

(He misses you. More than what anyone could imagine. Even that strange friend of yours, as much as he enjoys the company, cannot seem to tear him from them.

He sees the glimpse of an empathetic gaze, but doesn't comment on it nor budges. That girl probably considers this as part of her data to collect. (She doesn't, and he knows, but he can't get over the fact that you had to leave)

He really hates the fact that you had a mortal body that had to decay.)

[vmp3ater]

I want to fuck Black Swan from the back with a strap sooooo bad 🙏

subbot black swan x domtop afab reader

black swan would look so beautiful with her lavender hair fanned out on her back, ass up into the air while you thrust your strap into her. she would look back at you from behind while you thrust into her, watching her ass ripple every time your pelvis hits it.

fucking her into oblivion!!! you’ve already ripped a few orgasms from the memokeeper but you’re not satisfied yet, groaning slightly as you feel yourself throb under the strap in seeing her in such a state. she looks so cute, begging for you to slow down.. at least, maybe you will show some mercy on her <3

[voidcat]

i have a love hate relationship with memokeepers

[freyito]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ...

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti, mr. reca, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, mydei, phainon, anaxa (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you bring home a chimera that looks like them.

✧ a/n: SOMEHOW IT FEELS LIKE ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE POSTED A FIC??? IDK IF THIS IS NORMALLY HOW LONG IT TAKES ME BUT AUGHHH!!!!!!! i got a job again and many more things happening irl but i am FINALLY! FINALLY!!! starting to get back into the groove of writing and drawing and even gaming teehee... sometimes all you need is a change to get out of a slump i guess.

you may also notice that a few characters are missing from this post! thats cause whenever i do one of these big ol posts, a couple of characters really tend to make it feel like it drags on for me. that leads to me really dreading writing the fic and, of course, leads to me taking a month on the fic lol. this will be one of the last posts i do with all the male characters (and female, if i ever decide to write for them in the future), before i move onto writing five characters at most. im sorry if you guys liked these posts and your favorite characters werent written for, i know these are like. my most popular pieces. it just takes so long and by the time i reach certain characters i feel like im all outta juice.

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 4.3k

⎯ Aventurine

“Well… I suppose we’ll see how this goes…”

AVENTURINE isn’t exactly against the idea of a chimera, but with all his catcakes, is it a good idea…? Both of you don’t know, and you feel a little embarrassed to admit that you didn’t think of this before bringing home the chimera. He’s not mad though, he’s quite taken by the little creature. But, with his penchant to collect catcakes, he worries about possible socialization issues.

The chimera, however, fits right in– aside from its striking eyes. Loafing and lounging with the catcakes, day in, day out. With a big ol’ smile on its cute face, happy to be with its kin… You think. Chimeras have the body of lion cubs, right? So aren’t they like… kind of related to catcakes? It’s a question you’d rather not ponder. Still, even so far from home, the chimera seems quite content. Paired with a bunch of companions who are all spoiled equally.

That being said, it seems you have chosen one of the laziest chimeras known to man. Ever since you had brought it home, it had kept Aventurine in bed even later, refusing to get up from his chest, even if the man had a meeting. It seems Aventurine has spoiled it far too much, or it has gotten so used to the comfortable life that it’s gotten quite stubborn…

⎯ Dr. Ratio

“Interesting….”

Most would not take RATIO as any type of pet person. No cats, certainly no dogs, no birds… the list goes on. Even his colleagues would not have guessed he’d take such a shine to such a… cute creature. As far as they know, cute is not a word within Ratio’s vocabulary. So, when his peers and students see a chimera toddling behind him, they can’t help but be interested.

He acts like he isn’t attached to the chimera, treating it more like a specimen than the cute little lion-butterfly-thing it is. When you first brought it to him, he was quite intrigued. A creature from a planet that not even the memokeepers can reach… It's a wonderful research opportunity, and a gift. One he cherishes, despite his logical approach to it. 

It seems he has bonded with the chimera on a deeper level than you expected. It just so happens that you have picked up a chimera that not only looks like Veritas, but also one that was just as enlightened as he was. You think. You don’t understand a lick of the chimera’s little chirps, but Ratio seems to understand well enough. Then again, the math that he prattles on about with the chimera, you don’t understand either.

⎯ Boothill

“Awh, who’s this little feller?”

BOOTHILL is actually quite delighted when you bring a chimera home to him, even if your reasoning is a little… odd. Looks like him? Well, there’s only one of him and that means there’s only one look-alike; the man in the mirror. Still, despite this, he’s practically in love with the chimera. It’s been so long since he’s even had a pet– and he’s always missed the dogs and cats on the ranch– so why not indulge in your silly little shenanigans, and appreciate this little critter you’ve taken the time to pick out for him?

The two get along so well. Boothill had always wanted a pet eventually, but with his lifestyle he was afraid to ever adopt. Considering he was running around half the galaxy, he was wanted, and the closest thing to home he knew now was a ship, it was just unfair to subject any sort of animal to that life. Now that he had you and a proper home, however, he had been debating getting a pet for a long, long while.

So imagine his surprise when you had handed off a chimera to him the minute he got home after a particularly rough bounty. Even the most snarkiest, annoying personality would have him charmed. It could constantly choose you over him, and he’d still fawn over the thing. He’s happy you have someone to keep you company when he’s away, but the little kid in him (who remained, despite the fact that everything around him had burned to ash) is much more happy to come home to a pet once more.

⎯ Gallagher

“Another stray, hm?”

Despite the chimera’s protests that it is not a stray, GALLAGHER doesn’t seem to mind a new pet. He’ll just pretend he didn’t hear that comment about the chimera looking like him. You had compared him to a dog so many times before, that he was practically immune. Even if a chimera wasn't a dog, or a cat, or… well, there was no use in wondering what exactly it was. Though, he was quite intrigued that you had brought home something from Amphoreus of all places, it seems that the nameless just keep going for bigger and bigger marks.

The chimera itself is quite happy to get away from its work and laze about. On the days that Gallagher is home, it enjoys curling up on his lap (or his chest, if Gallagher is napping), and bathing in his and your attention. It’s quite domestic really, you have seen Gallagher with his other pets before, but he’s more of a big dog kind of guy. To see something relatively small curled up with him, when he’s watching TV or getting ready for bed, it makes you feel… light.

He’s also quite happy to have a pet that can actually talk back. Gallagher often catches himself muttering to himself because of how much he tends to talk to his pets. So when he gets responses from the chimera, even if it’s asking to go back to bed or telling him that this work is just ‘too much’ (all Gallagher was doing was pouring himself a drink, the chimera simply chose to follow him), it was still wonderful for him to have a buddy. It’s not everyday that you have a pet that can talk back to you, right?

⎯ Sunday

“Ah… you thought of me…?”

Now, SUNDAY isn’t against pets, he’s just a little nervous. The last pet he had… Well, you know what happened to it. But, by all means a chimera is an extraterrestrial. So, naturally, he’s a little shocked. Even if the little chimera is as cute as a button and just so damn happy to be in his lap. While he knew stepping aboard the Astral Express would mean he would see quite a lot– which included different planets, and by proxy, different flora, fauna, people, and what not– he never really expected to be face to face with such a… thing.

Looking into its wide, golden eyes, however, he feels a sense of… kinship. As weird as it is. He does his best to ignore it, not to get too overly attached to the chimera. After all, surely you must bring it back to Amphoreus. Right? He does his best to ignore the papers in your hands, and chooses instead to believe that this ‘adoption’ is more of a ‘foster’ situation.

That worry dissipates with the coming days. He finds himself quite enamored with the chimera, even sneaking it leftovers when he can. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up reading the creature passages from his books, or from some data entries he borrowed from the archive. In fact, the idea that you would have to bring the chimera back breaks his heart a little. Not that you would, it’s quite cute to watch the chimera follow Sunday around.

⎯ Argenti

“What a stunning creature!”

Isn’t the word ‘cute’ better instead? Nevertheless, ARGENTI is quite enraptured by the chimera. So much so that he doesn’t seem to realize the similarity of the creature. Really, when you saw the sparkle in its eyes, you knew this was perfect for him. The similarity was uncanny, really. With the way the chimera was staring into your very soul, chattering off (which, you could already imagine it was praising the beauty of you), a part of you wanted to get it contacts.

Needless to say, The chimera is glued to Argenti. Or perhaps it's the other way around? The man doesn’t have any traveling companions, and he had preferred for you to stay on his ship whenever he was out on one of his excursions. The chimera, however, seemed to be quite the trusty companion. That little ‘awoo’ must be vicious, given how highly the man spoke of it. ‘It’s like a cry from the very heavens!’

It seems your gift is quite well loved, though. Not that Argenti would ever dislike your gifts. You could give him a rock– one that isn’t even shiny or shaped in an interesting way– and he’d treat it like you’d have proposed to him. The chimera, however, seems to have struck a rather special chord within him. It is hard to know if you’ve truly surprised him, but you can definitely see how attached he is to the chimera. It has been too long since someone gave him something so meaningful. Perhaps even the first time.

⎯ Mr. Reca

“Ah, is this a new crew member…? Or perhaps, a new star?”

Is there a universe where MR. RECA isn’t looking for some scene to capture? ‘Cause it’s definitely not this one. No one has ever had the ability to capture something, anything from Amphoreus, so of course he’s fascinated with the chimera. He glosses over the fact that the critter looks like him. Not enough time to think about that, when this is a star in the making. What shall he come up with this time?

He unknowingly dotes on that poor little Chimera, as well… in his own way. There’s no critiques for the creature's performance (though, you must think that it doesn’t understand exactly what Reca’s goal is.), only dazzling praise, even for something as simple as curling up and taking a nap. Such a tiny little thing, full of all sorts of inspiration! It deserves nothing more than the best of praise!

For at least a month straight, he simply cannot stop thinking of ideas and ways to make the chimera a star. A documentary, perhaps. No, no, that’s too simple. A thriller, maybe? Now, that would be interesting. How could he use such a cute creature for such a medium…? Ah, so many things to work out! This excitement keeps him fueled for days. Oftentimes, he’s writing out scenes at his desk, pacing, or even talking your ear off. All while the chimera is curled up in his lap, content as can be.

⎯Sampo Koski

“And what’s this? A new business venture?”

Of course SAMPO looks at the chimera and sees a business opportunity. Not that he’s planning to sell it, no… this little fella could be the new face of his business. Cold Feet Junior, even. Needless to say, he loves the chimera. Who wouldn’t? Such a precious little treasure from way out there, somewhere not even the great Sampo Koski can get to.

Aside from the chimera now being the face of his business, he brings the thing everywhere like it’s a little chihuahua. It gets pampered to high heaven, with little treats even you have never heard about before. From all sorts of places, from Izumo to Punklorde. You start to wonder if these treats are even good for the chimera, considering just how different these foods must be from the ones back home. The chimera seems fine enough, however.

When he can’t bring the chimera with him, however, he’s the most pathetic man you know. He’ll fake cry, use a voice that is just so tear-jerking, and say a sorrowful goodbye to the chimera. He texts you everyday when he is out, begging for pictures, asking if it's okay, asking if it's eaten… and so on. You, of course, do your best to shower him with pictures of the chimera, assuring him that it’s never been better. To which, he always responds with some sort of keyboard smash (rare for him), and praises going your way, and the chimeras way.

⎯ Jing Yuan

“Hmm…”

JING YUAN could never turn down a gift from you, of course. Especially one so cute. If you hadn’t caught him at such an inopportune time (also known as nap time), perhaps his reaction would be more grand. Or the same, he’s never been one for big expressions. A simple ‘thank you’, a kiss, and something in return has always been his style. However,  this seems like a lot more than just a simple gift. A creature from Amphoreus… and a potential playmate for Mimi.

‘Potentially’ becomes a ‘definitely’ after some socializing. Instead of the chimera attaching itself to Jing Yuan, it’s very, very fond of Mimi. The grimalkin is quite well tempered, if not tolerant. The way the Chimera climbs onto him, like he is a mighty steed and not a proud lion… it’s charming in its own way. And yet, all Mimi does is maybe huff a little, and be on his merry way. Most of the time, he’d do the exact opposite the chimera wanted, by the sound of its annoyed chirps. Perhaps this was his way of playing with such a smaller creature…?

The chimera ultimately finds its spot on the bed. When you and Jing Yuan cuddled up, Mimi took his spot at the end of the bed. The chimera, unsure whether to stick themself at the end of the bed, in between you and Jing Yuan, or just sleep on the floor. Before it decides to exclude itself, Mimi makes the decision for it. With another huff (perhaps irritated that he had to leave his warm spot), he hops down from the bed, grabs the chimera by its scruff (not without it complaining, of course), and hops right back up. When you wake up in the morning, you find the chimera, stuck between Mimi’s paws, with the most content, familiar, smile on its face, while Mimi licks up its cheek repeatedly.

⎯ Blade

“...”

How many more times will this happen? First a cat cake, now a chimera. What’s next? A seal? BLADE really doesn’t know how to react. To be thought of is wonderful, but does it really always have to be in this kind of way? How many more creatures out there look like him? He can only hope you don’t find them for your ‘Blade collection’. Those poor, poor souls…

Regardless of his… pondering, the gift doesn’t go unappreciated. The chimera and Blade are like two halves of a whole, really. While Blade is sulking, so is the chimera… right next to him. When you adopted it, you swore it was just full of energy. Chirping and chattering to anyone who would listen, chimera, human, chrysos heir, no one was free from its chattering. In truth, you thought it was silly that something that held such a resemblance to such a broody man had such whimsy.

So, to see the little critter suddenly adapt Blade’s sulking and… edge, it’s a little surprising. Or not, if you understood how this tale has gone before. It’s actually kind of cute in its own odd way. When you point out the similarities in personality, all Blade feels he can do is grumble and huff. He should be used to your penchant for finding things that look and act like him by now, but somehow you always manage to surprise him. 

⎯ Luocha

“What an… intriguing gift…”

LUOCHA is never one to turn down your gifts, and he certainly won’t start now. But, despite the worlds he has traveled to and all he’s seen, somehow he’s never seen quite a creature. Perhaps it is the resemblance that throws him off. He doesn’t want to turn down your gift, but where he travels to may not be the safest place for the little Chimera. Very rarely does he stay home long enough to take care of any pet, either. He rationalizes that while it is a little amusing, this must be for you.

And of course he isn’t going to take that kind of companionship from you. It’s actually kind of endearing to him that you went through all this trouble to find a cute little look-alike. He’s more entertained by the way you dote on it, by the way you call it ‘Luo-Luo’ (even though the Chimera seems over it), and he wonders to himself if you truly got this chimera for him, or to have something to coddle while he was away. Not that you coddled him, normally. He isn’t a man to be doted on like that, and you are just too shy to do that to him.

He indulges in the adoption of the chimera, of course. Even when he’s out for months on end, he makes sure to call and check up on the Chimera (and you, but he does that normally). He shouldn’t be so surprised to see all the little outfits you’ve stuck the critter in, from cats (which makes no sense, considering the body of a chimera was a lion), to wolves. He wonders how many people you have commissioned for these little outfits…

⎯ Jiaoqiu

“And this charming little companion is…?”

JIAOQIU truly thought that the Tuskipir would be his only pet. He didn’t really need a service animal outside of the emotional support, considering he had a cane, and he knew the Yaoqing like the back of his hand. You, however, decide that if one critter does well, why won’t two do better? Plus, while the Tuskipir was used for more emotional wellbeing, Chimeras were experienced with work, and when you think about it, they’d make quite the service animals. 

What a shame that he can’t see the resemblance clearly. Still, he is quite touched by the thoughtfulness behind your gift. The chimera warms up to him all too easily, immediately taking its place by his side. Jiaoqiu doesn’t verbally admit it, but being thought of in such a way, especially after a trip that took you across the cosmos warms his heart. Even if he is pretty much completely recovered, it was quite nice to be cared for. Even as a healer.

In truth, as endearing as your gift was, he had expected the chimera to get in his way, under his legs, and become annoying in all sorts of ways. Given how happily it yipped and barked when you first arrived with it, he truly assumed it would be an annoyance. He’s pleasantly surprised that once the chimera has acclimated and settled, it becomes a wonderful companion. Chimera’s stomachs are so strong, you think, watching as Jiaoqiu feeds the critter a particular slice of beef that almost looks red, with the amount of spice he has put in the hotpot broth.

⎯ Moze

“I… Hm.”

It is rare for MOZE to talk without thinking. It is even rarer to interrupt his thoughts all together. You should be impressed with yourself. When met with the gloomy demeanor of the Chimera, Moze can only squint, open his mouth to form words, and ultimately lose them. What is he supposed to say? He’s never had a pet before, the strays in the alleyways who liked his scent were the closest thing to having one. All he really can do is hold the Chimera and stare into those oddly familiar eyes.

There is a quiet camaraderie between the two, once the confusion settles from Moze’s mind. When Moze is home (considering his work is too dangerous for any sort of pet), the two have a tacit, quiet understanding that you can’t quite… get. The Chimera follows Moze around, at a distance, and studies him closely, as if trying to commit his movements to memory. You swear, at some point, you heard Moze say ‘this is how you sweep’. When you walked in the room to check, the two were quiet as can be, while Moze was sweeping the kitchen floor, the Chimera perched on the counter.

When Moze is out, the Chimera sits by the door, or in the living room, or sometimes sleeps in his spot on the bed while waiting for him. It’s almost kind of heartbreaking when you think about it, knowing Moze is gone for most of the week. At the very least, it seems the Chimera is much, much more receptive to cuddles than your dear lover is. As much as it seems to miss its twin, it can’t resist curling up in your arms and taking a nap. It seems that the Chimera catches up on sleep in Moze’s place.

⎯ Mydeimos

“Hmph.”

MYDEI refuses to acknowledge the similarity. He pouts, sighs, and does his best to walk off and ignore the furry little companion you had brought home. The chimera trots after Mydei regardless, happy as can be, even if the man was ignoring it. You had to commend him, really. If you had something that cute following you around, you would fold immediately. But Mydei was stronger than you (and much, much more stubborn).

When Mydeimos wasn’t home, the chimera took up all his spots, short of the one in the kitchen. It’d sit in his chair at the table, enjoy the warmth of the private bath, and even take his spot on the bed. Which, Mydei truly doesn’t appreciate. Some days he is out from dawn till dusk, but he has always made it a point to come back home just before you fall asleep, so the two of you could sleep together. So to find you curled up with this little rascal, who was oh so happy to take his place, he doesn’t know what to feel.

He’s not jealous. No, no, he swears he isn’t. Why would he be jealous of a chimera? How silly. Despite that, you notice how he’s suddenly in much more of a rush to see you on the days that he is gone. He tries to beat the chimera to the bed, establishes his dominance in the kitchen (as if anyone could beat him), and makes it known– well.. you don’t know what he’s trying to prove to a chimera of all things. But it’s quite funny watching him try to one-up the creature, who was simply acting oblivious. Everytime you pet the chimera or praise it, you can always hear Mydei sigh. It’s not that he was neglecting the chimera in any way, not, he just had to one-up it. Almost every time he could.

⎯ Phainon

“Aha… Do I really look like this thing…?”

You are the third person to tell PHAINON a certain chimera looks like him. It worries him a little. Does he, a truly fearsome warrior that totally doesn’t have the air of a puppy, look like such a cute little creature? Looking into the chimera’s eyes, which are practically shining, he can’t help but concede… only for you, though. 

The very first thing this chimera does is challenge Phainon himself. To his surprise (and dismay), the chimera starts to take all his favorite spots.  Right by your legs, on your chest when you're sleeping, or when you're just laying down, and even in the baths. You find it cute, but Phainon… he’s not one to turn down a challenge, even if it’s initiated by a chimera. He takes every chance he can get to sweep you up off your feet and carry you off somewhere the chimera can only watch, like the hot baths.

While you find this kind of charming, if not funny, you can't help but feel bad for the chimera. When you show even the smallest amount of pity for it, however, Phainon decides its time to switch tactics. Instead of taking everything the Chimera did as a challenge, now it was a battle of charm. Anytime the Chimera begs for food (within his proximity), he rests his chin on your shoulder and tries to snatch the food from you. If the Chimera is sleeping on your lap, he makes an effort to also try and lay his head in your lap, and always, always, looks up at you with those pretty blues. You have to admit it's cute, but kind of pathetic. Not that you would ever want him to change.

⎯ Anaxagoras

“Hmph. But it is no Dromas.”

You, of course, know about ANAXA’s love for Dromases more than anything. You were one of the few who were graced by him and his magnificent onesie’s presence, after all. But, still, when you saw the little chimera, with its muted green coat and its missing eye, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Perhaps he is truly amused at the fact that you have found his doppelganger? Or maybe he’s finally figured out where one of his eyepatches has finally gone… either way, his tone is hard to read.

It is not long until you notice how he dotes on the chimera… in his own way, at least. He doesn’t outright ignore the critter when it toddles behind him, and on more than one occasion you have caught him talking to it, prattling on about his theories while he cleans his gun. Despite acting annoyed that you had taken one of his eyepatches for a ‘silly little costume’, he does not attempt to remove it. Not once. You take this as a victory, of course.

The real kicker is when you caught him sewing a Dromas onesie for the Chimera. His hands aren’t the steadiest, but he sits so quietly (for once), all while the Chimera lays curled up right next to his legs. You don’t mean to stare for too long, but he ends up catching you. Instead of acting shy (Which, he never did), and brushing you off, he only huffs softly, and shakes his head, before going back to his sewing. You read this as an invitation to properly watch, and when you step into the room, he doesn’t complain.

© freyito, 2025 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS

[peonysgreenhouse]

-`♡´- lost signal.

summary: welt finds himself unable to contact you after your departure for amphoreus. (gn!reader x welt yang; astral express found family)

tags: 1.2k words, established relationship, fake texts, astral express family, fluff and longing, spoilers for 3.0's main quest!

“You’re worried.”

Even Himeko’s voice does little to turn his head from the window, watching as the Parlor Car trails off and away through the stars towards Amphoreus. Out of sight, out of Welt’s reach – he was never good at stepping back and letting things be. He has to keep himself from pressing his hand to the glass, from tracing his finger along each and every fleck of light you pass, as if you could somehow feel him there with you.

“Am I that obvious?” Welt asks, adjusting his glasses. He feels Himeko’s dress brush over his shoes, and still he cannot bring himself to tear his gaze away for even a second; even as the car disappears from view as it enters into Amphoreus’s orbit.

“I’m sure everything will go smoothly. You know how capable they all are.” Himeko reassures. 

Welt lets out a weary sigh. Of course knows that. You, Stelle, and Dan Heng made a formidable team. Still, the worry persists, gnawing like moths at an old dressing gown. 

“You are correct.” Welt starts, sighing again as his eyes flick to her momentarily, before looking back out the window. The stillness in the Express is disquieting; it seemed less of a home without all the noise. “But still, I worry anyways.”

Himeko gives him a knowing smile. “I’m sure you’ll hear from them soon.” She says, turning to walk back towards the door. “In the meantime, would you help me make dinner for March? She still isn’t feeling well.”

Welt softens at that, finally forcing himself to look away. He assures himself that you all would be okay, and hopes that is enough. “Of course.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Welt has done the math over and over again. He knows this planet is uncharted, but they knew the distance to the landing site, knew how strong the planet’s gravitational pull was... If things went perfectly, you all should have docked three hours ago. 

You had promised that you’d text him once you successfully made it planet-side. He rests on one of the couches in the main car, one hand resting on his cane, the other holding his phone. 

Perhaps he’s acting like a besotted old man… and a hovering parent to Stelle and Dan Heng. But still, he finds his hands itching to type out a message to check in. And so, he does:

He tries to rationalize the response (or, lack thereof) before the tide of worry can wash over him once again. It wouldn’t be surprising if it were just Stelle’s phone that had no connection – but you and Dan Heng? Neither of you would let that happen, especially at the beginning of an Expedition.

Perhaps signal didn’t reach Amphoreus. It would be the most logical answer – it was out of sight to all but the Memokeepers. Besides that, he can't help but think it's possible that you all could’ve crash landed...

Welt stands, and goes to wake Sunday.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You lean out the balcony of the private baths, your hand stretching upwards to the sky, phone in hand, as if you could reach up far enough to hand the messages to Welt. 

“That’s not how it works.” Dan Heng says, one hand behind his head as he relaxes in one of the lounge chairs. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, a quarter of his attention diverted from his book to make sure you don’t lose your balance and fall.

You hate that he’s right. This is all an exercise in futility, but still, it doesn't hurt to try. You hop up on the railing, carefully sitting yourself on the ledge of the balcony, stretching just a few more inches forward. Dan Heng pays a bit more attention to you.

“Dan Heng’s right.” Stelle interjects, her long silvery hair gliding on the surface of the water in the bath, sprawled out as if she had not a care in the world. “You need much longer arms.”

You huff, looking at the ‘No Signal’ message that hasn’t budged from the top of your phone’s screen since you crash landed in Amphoreus. You wish there was something you could do to reassure Welt that you would all be okay.

You imagine he’ll have a few more grey hairs when you see him next.

“You should get down from there.” Comes Dan Heng’s voice, closing the book he was skimming through. “I would prefer not to have to tell Mr. Yang that you fell to your death.”

You hear Stelle snicker, and it’s then you hop down off the railing, realizing you are supposed to be the mature one here. You turn your phone off, then go to sit on one of the empty lounge chairs, listening to the water flow as it pours into the bath. 

Welt would like it here, you think. After everything he’s done for you, for you all, he deserves a nice, warm bath. Perhaps once you've restored contact with the Express, you could convince him to relax, if for a little while.

You let that thought carry you into a fitful sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In your absence, Welt spends the days with Sunday, exhausting their combined contacts to try and regain communication with you all. Each day seems to drag on, and yet he never finds enough hours to do all that he needs to do to ensure your safety. 

He should’ve just joined the Expedition… Welt hated, more than anything, not knowing; questions with too many variables to act on all at once. Especially when it involved those he cared about. 

Some of your things had been left in his room; he doesn’t have the heart to move them. A half-empty cup of tea that had long gone cold, the shape of your lips outlined in chapstick around the rim. The hotel key from your room in Penacony, sandwiched between one of his books you were borrowing; a makeshift bookmark that would no doubt end up damaging the binding. A picture of you, him, and Himeko taken in the jazz bar at the Reverie. Your hand is slung around their shoulders, and you’re winking at the camera, only slightly tipsy. The memory makes him warm with longing.

He sends another few texts your way, knowing they will not reach you. Still, it is nice to think of what he might say to you if he could.

At night, he sits in March’s room, watching to make sure her condition doesn’t worsen. The cold of the six-phased ice bites even through his overcoat.

Welt folds his hands in his lap, closing his eyes for a momentary rest. Come tomorrow they would go to the Space Station to search for answers; but for now, he would be present for March. It was all he could do.

[kafnixc]

Pairing : GP!Dom!Acheron x Sub!Fem!reader

Warnings! : Fingering, Overstimulation, Jealous sex, Crying, Mentions of blood(Biting), Creampie, Semi public sex

Author's note : I'am crazy for this woman, y'all don't understand the things I'd let this woman do to me

MEN & MINORS DNI

During your visit to penacony with your lover, whom hides her identity with the title Galaxy Ranger, Acheron you came across a memokeeper named Black Swan and you two got close real quick, well.. too close to Acheron's liking

"(Reader).. don't you think you're being too close with, that memokeeper? I don't trust her" Acheron spoke in a firm tone while wrapping an arm around your waist, resting her head on your shoulder "Black Swan? There's no need to get cautious around her love, she's a very sweet person" you replied with a smile, but you only received a scoffed from her

"You shouldn't trust people here in Penacony so easily, you don't know their actual intentions." She said before pulling you closer

Unfortunately, your romantic time was cut short when the memo keeper showed up "(Reader)! Come with me, is it fine if I show you something?" Black swan said with a small grin on her lips, offering her hand to you "O-Oh! Of course" you replied, breaking away from Acheron, but before you could even get away, she grabbed your arm stopping you from leaving "(Reader) is busy." Acheron said in a low tone, eyes narrowing at the sight of the Memokeeper.

"Is that so?" A giggle escapes from Black Swan, as she then sighed and waved her hand dismissively "A shame then.. I'll leave you two be, see you around, (Reader)"

"..You, we need to talk" Acheron firmly said, before dragging you away from the busy crowd of Penacony and to a dark alleyway

"Aeons! A-Acheron..!" A whine escapes your lips, as two.. no, three slim fingers roughly pumps in and out of your already soaked entrance, slick dripping down to the ground while you hold onto the Galaxy Ranger for dear life

"You seem to be getting too close with that memokeeper.. are you forgetting about me?" Her fingers hit that spongy spot inside you, causing your legs to buckle barely keeping yourself up as your third orgasm comes crashing down

"N-No m'sorry..! N-No more.. m'sorry.." You sobbed out, gripping onto her shoulders to support yourself from falling, as her fingers continuously pistons your insides in a rather.. rough pace.

"No more..? But your pussy is telling me the opposite thing." A chuckle escapes the Galaxy Ranger's lips, as her pace intensified curling her fingers on that spongy area, earning a cry from you while your walls grips on those slim fingers as your fourth orgasm crashes over you

After a few moments of haziness, you felt her fingers retreating from your soaked folds. You thought it was over, not until you heard a sound of a zipper.. Your eyes widened at the sight of the Galaxy Ranger's erection

"Wait wait.. w-we're still going?" You said in a nervous tone, which only made her grin mischievously "I never said we're done, did I?" Replied Acheron before lifting you up, you gasped and immediately wrapped your legs around her hips, gripping her shoulders for more support

"Let me remind you.. who you belong to" Without a warning, she slammed her whole length inside you, earning a scream from you but she quickly covered your mouth "Silence, there's people wandering around you know, might I remind you that we're not in a secluded area."

Oh.. that's right, you two weren't in a room, in fact.. you two were just outside, in an alleyway, where people can always look if there's something going on. But instead of feeling fear, that somehow turned you on even more but you couldn't bring yourself to admit such.

Her cock filled you up to the brim, and at the mere length of it caused tears to well up in your eyes, you can feel it stretching you up while her hips slammed into you repeatedly in an animalistical pace.

"A-Acheron— Acheron.." you cried her name out like a prayer, then a gasp escapes your lips as you felt her bite your neck, and gods it felt good.. her teeth sinks into your soft supple flesh, drawing a little blood which causes you to squirm

"Fuck.. (Reader) you feel so good.." a whimper escapes from the Galaxy Ranger's lips, gripping your hips as she pushes you further against the wall and gritting her teeth as her pace quickened.

Tears spilled from your eyes as you felt your fifth orgasm coming, you roll your eyes back and your walls clenched her cock earning a grunt from the Galaxy Ranger as your orgasm crashes down once more

After a few more thrusts, Acheron whimpered before painting your insides white, filling you up to the brim with hot cum. She held you close while thrusting slowly, trying to help you ride out your high

When you recover from your high, Acheron placed a kiss to your lips while wiping your tears away "Are you alright dove?.." You noticed the look of concern in her eyes, you smiled before nodding "I'm fine, don't worry.."

At the sound of your reassurance, Acheron's gaze softened, before leaning in as she whispers in your ear "Good.. I'll give you some time to recover, then we go again."

Your eyes widened at her words, a shiver running down your spine and you think to yourself.. this is gonna be a long night.

[notpixl]

Realizing they’re in love with you! HSR Edition

(Ft. Robin, Acheron, Blackswan, Feixiao)

Y’all this came up to me while in class the voices told me to write this okay or else they’ll delete my accounts 🥲

Also, Beauty amidst Death will have an update. I’m just cringing at the fact that I decided leave it in strange place and am wondering how to continue it…

GN!Reader as usual. I want all sides to be happy

—————

———

—————

Robin

It’s… weird?

Well, she does get the usual fans declaring their love to her and all but somehow you’re different??? Like what-

Nowadays, whenever you two hug she’s always a blushing mess! And how come she just noticed that you’re… really, really close…

Too close…

There’s like this feeling on her stomach whenever you two are together. It doesn’t matter if it’s a call, a meetup, or just hanging out! It… It’s always there!

And whenever your name is mentioned her ears perk up! Like… what did do you to her?!

Eventually she’ll consult about these feelings with Sunday but he just chuckles it off, leaving her to guess what it is. (At least give her a hint!)

Though the answer would come knocking at her door

It was a simple gift

From you

There’s a little note etched into the cover

“For someone that means so much to me :)”

Opening it revealed a pretty little necklace

With a Dove as its Pendant

…come to think of it don’t they represent something?

She’s sure it was something about…

Peace…

Freedom…

And Love!

Wait…

Love…?

Oh

Oh

She slowly covers her face in embarrassment

Why… did it take her so long to figure this out?!

Aeons, she’s so dumb!

“All this time I was in love with them…”

Acheron

She’s met many people

Countless if you will

But why…?

Why is it that in this ever current flow of forgetting and remembering…

She just can’t seem to forget your lovely face?

She’ll rush to the libraries, read the news, heck, even threaten ask the greatest philosophers on what this feeling means!

Perhaps that Memokeeper knows something…?

Oh forget it!

She’ll tackle this head-on!

…by asking you herself.

“Ah… so that’s it is… Love.”

Black Swan

Hmm… what a quaint feeling she’s having when you’re around

Love, isn’t it?

She’s only seen and heard about it… but not once has she ever had the chance to have a feel…

…would you reciprocate these feeling as well?

Although that possibility comes in mind…

She’d rather hear it from you than face the harsh reality of rejection

Then again…

Would her as a whole be enough?

She’s never considered using her body to charm someone, let alone the person she has come to love…

Perhaps…

Perhaps you will

“The possibilities are endless… but I’ll never stop it from blooming.”

Feixiao

She’s rather perplexed

Wait- no… yeah no that actually works-

All it takes was one glance during her walk and now she’s stumbling on her way to work with this… strange feeling

There’s no point in running away, she already has Moze tracking you down

She’d talk to Jiaoqiu about this, only receiving a shrug and scraps of determination to “find it out herself.”

Cheeky Foxian…

Hmm…

Maybe she should ask from the source itself?

———

You lay in bed, already done with today’s schedule when you notice a shift in weight on your waist

Your eyes hesitate to open

“That’s not a good way to greet guests, isn’t it?”

Moving won’t help

“Look at me.”

You’re met with such a pair of eyes you can’t even begin to describe them

Scary? Beautiful? I think that shouldn’t be your main concern right now-

“I’ve got a question…”

Her grip tightens on your shoulders

“What did you do to me?”

—————

———

—————

Um… no comment down here

I hope you enjoyed/hated it

Asks are always open I guess if you want to force me to write and die and sob and and and a sn

[alwayscorvus]

Hello! Can I request a Honkai Star Rail and Wuthering Waves crossover with Jiyan? The reader can be of any faction and race you wish. I think a foxian reader, a self-destructor reader like Acheron or a Memokeeper would be interesting. Maybe even a Gallovian. Whatever you think is right, that's right. Thanks in advance 🌻🌻🌻

Once you are gone

memokeeper!foxian!malereader x Jiyan, fluff; warning!faction and "race" kinda reflect in reader's character

It took so frickin' long u probably forgot about it. Sorry. But I have like no time at all. Still thank u very much 4 the request!

And about it… tbh I played in hsr for only a brief while, because I stopped at the beginning of Penacony... (truly unfortunate turn of events) But I searched for help on internet. And after first few informations that I read, an idea popped into my head, so I decided to modify it suitably for a story. Hope its alright

In your life you have visited dozens if not hundreds of places, times and dimensions. You have met thousands of people, explored more than one story, learned new languages, traditions and habits. In the process, you have gained a lot of unique, rich and wonderful memories. However, none of them belonged to you.

You were a memokeeper. You had nothing. You dedicated your entire existence to your almighty Aeon. Your soul, experiences, memories, emotions, feelings. Everything belonged to him.

You were his best memokeeper. You always stole finest memories from most unique universes. You worked long for your title. You wanted to feel appreciated. That's why, once you noticed, that lately no memory had brought your lord to his former euphoria, you knew you had to try harder. Find something one of a kind. Everything for that one smile and few simple words of recognition.

You went on a journey. Where no memokeeper has yet managed to go. Next few worlds and their residents didn't seem really interesting. There was nothing there that your Lord hadn't already seen. But, you weren't willing to give up so easily. After all, you were the best of the best.

In the end, fate brought you to Solaris-3. At first it was a simple miscalculation. But after moments of reflection, you came to conclusion that such coincidences often led to the greatest results. Something was drawing you to Solaris. And especially to Huanglong. That's why you decided to settle there for a longer period of time. You focused your search on possible battlefields. After all, your Aeon gave them his special attention.

However, your focus wasn't drawn to trivial Midnight Rangers. Before you knew it all your attention turned to a certain teal-haired general… Even if it wasn't in your style. By the time you realized, it was too late. You drowned in curiosity. And what's even more surprising, you decided to trust your fox sixth sense.

At first you remained in the shadows. As always.

You watched him from afar. Drank in his view. His smile and gentle voice. You experienced what he did. Got to know him, his surroundings, people close to him and emotions that he showed.

Yet it wasn't enough for you.

You were greedy. You had to taste it yourself.

So you decided to take more advanced steps. And do what you were mostly not in the habit of doing. You decided to reveal yourself.

At first you planned to pretend to be an ordinary local resident. A poor, struggling victim who lost his home and all his belongings in face of war.

However, after a moments of consideration, you pushed that idea back into the shadows. You wouldn't feel right putting yourself in a weaker position than general and your rivals. You had to play a hero in this story.

Now all you had to do was to wait for the right moment. And it came faster than you could have thought.

A group of Midnight Rangers along with a general ran into an ambush. Typical, sunny afternoon. Any attack was definitely unexpected. In the blink of an eye, you jumped in front of Jiyan and covered him with your own body, countering the hit. You dealt a punch that spread destruction and left a deep crack in the ground, decorated with fainted bodies of your opponents.

You hastily turned towards your subject of interest. Jiyan stood there truly shocked with your sudden appearance.

You took a closer look at him. For the first time you had the opportunity to do so.

You saw this spark in his eyes. Full of admiration and fascination. You proceeded to the rescue before he could even react.

A sort of sudden, unfamiliar warmth spread through your body. You felt the need to help him more often.

That's how your relationship began. You were quickly dragged into the ranks of Midnight Rangers and even faster, Jiyan took you in his care.

Now you were able to experience everything he did firsthand. And you couldn't lie, you damn well enjoyed it.

Jiyan quickly took a liking to you. Just as you liked him. If you even knew the meaning of this term. Memokeepers were famous for their manipulative abilities. Extremely necessary when acquiring precious memories. Oddly enough, you didn't need to use them at all. Jiyan liked you for who you were.

At some point you became inseparable. You didn't feel the need to do anything unrelated to general and he neither could nor wanted to chase you away.

The more time you spent with him the more you learned. You even managed to come up with new ideas. Maybe your Aeon was so moody because he needed something different? Instead of war, maybe he should experience some love.

However, there were no candidates in Jiyan's way. And you also didn't feel right with the idea of some stranger messing with general's heart. No one seemed suitable. So you decided to "sacrifice" yourself for the sake of this matter.

Few flirty comments, innocent brushes of hands.

Yet, you needed something more. You needed to create some kind of special memory.

It was one of the coldest nights of an entire year. You stationed in some remote area.

As you walked through narrow paths, between a shabby tents, you heard chattering of teeth. Pitch-black night got illuminated by lone stars and shyly sparkling campfires. Excluding a few tightly wrapped sentries, on your way you didn't come across any living soul.

You reached to the edge of a camp. Jiyan never liked to set up in the center.

You looked around awkwardly. There was no door, no way to knock. You weren't sure how to alert of your presence. But rushed by the cold, you began to call out a name of your general in a loud whisper.

Fortunately, awkward moment didn't last long and man heard you. Jiyan poked his head out of a tent. Sleepy eyes, messy hair. He looked so… vulnerable. He was completely unlike his highly, awe-inspiring general's self. Truly adorable. But you shook off these thoughts in panic.

-Can I come in?-you asked with a devious smirk.

And Jiyan, not yet fully aware of what was happening, only nodded his head and stepped back, thus letting you in.

Closing a tent behind you, you cut off all access to light. In small space you were able to find your way quickly. In the dark, you took off your shoes and, together with Jiyan, placed yourself in the middle of warm furs and sheets. Although Jiyan had never had you inside his tent before, it seemed so natural for the two of you. All those times when Jiyan accidentally fell asleep on your shoulder during long war planning… It added up to one thing.

Hearing a sluggish shuffling, you imagined Jiyan shyly approaching you as he sent you a pleading look. You bit your lower lip in desperation. You really wished you could see that right now.

You slowly raised your hand higher, tracing man's face. Gently grabbed his sharp jaw and pulled him towards you in a confident motion, placing his head on your chest. You felt as general's body relaxed.

You covered him with a thick layer of furs. Left one arm on his hip, when other began to soothingly stroke his hair. Cold slowly faded away in cozy atmosphere and comfort of each other body. Still, you couldn't help but notice Jiyan's gentle shivering. He was freezing. Yet it was you who just got back out of air. You squeezed him tighter. Twisted gently from side to side, releasing your tail, which hurriedly wrapped around Jiyan. General breathed a sigh of relief as he snuggled tighter into you. You knew he liked your tail. Although he never dared to touch it, considering it your private space. He sent it plenty of sneaking glances.

-When are you leaving?

He suddenly broke the silence and you froze.

-How-?

-That's easy to notice. When I talk about plans for the spring you look away. When I ask about your past you avoid the subject. When boys beg you to become their mentor, you turn it into a joke. It all adds up. I am not blind.

Pleasant atmosphere got taken over by a tension. Strange thrill of adrenaline set in your body. You clenched your teeth and hugged man tighter. You didn't know what to say.

-So?

-You can't wait for me to be gone, that much? - you couldn't stand the pressure so you tried to dismiss the subject.

Jiyan shook his head in denial.

-I don't want you to leave at all.

He answered sincerely and turned his face towards you, hoping that despite the darkness you could see his confident look and take his word for granted.

Your heart began to beat faster and you truly started to worry. You had never experienced anything like this. But you felt a sudden urge, to provide Jiyan's safety, just as you did during the ambush. Your instinct told you that you had to reassure him that everything would be fine.

Without much thought, as if guided by your inner self, you lifted your head and placed a gentle kiss on top of man's head.

-I'll be back, I promise - you swore.

It hurt you a lot, but he was right. You had to leave. You hadn't been in your home for long enough. Though you weren't sure anymore if you were still able to call that way a place by Aeon's side. You started to arrange in your head what would you say to Aeon.

But whatever your explanations might be, one thing was certain:

You will keep this memory only for yourself.

[ginsdelusions]

hiii! can you do a comfy anaxa fic? anything works rlly

Hi there, thank you so much for your request! I was thinking of watching movies, but didn’t know if they have movies in Amphoreus… so reader (I assume it’s an x reader) is a memokeeper and they are rewatching a theatrical performance on their couch by making the memories come to life again (since Amphoreus’ path is the Remembrance). I’m sorry for it being so short, but I hope you like the concept <3

“Is the popcorn finishing up soon? Otherwise everything is set up”, your voice rang through the apartment. “It will be done in a minute”, the scholar replied, peeking out from the kitchen, wrapped up in his comfortable Droma onesie. “Do we have sufficient blankets?”, he asked, taking out bowls to store the snacks in. “Yes. So, we wanted to watch Electra, right?”, your question was confirmed by a hum as Anaxagoras sat beside you, placing the popcorn bowls amongst the sea of blankets and pillows. “You wanted to watch Electra with me”

Searching the memory fragments you’d gathered during your time watching theatrical plays, you finally found the one containing the performance. In the meantime, Anaxa had already placed himself on the couch, thrown on blankets and fluffed up pillows. “Found it”, you smiled triumphantly as you opened the memory shard. It looked like a holographic screen as you started the ‘movie’. Once everything was in place, you leaned back as well, popcorn on your side, as you laid your head on Anaxa’s chest and adjusted the surrounding pillows and blankets to your liking.

Sharing a gaze, you decided to start the ‘movie’, your arms wrapping around the man next to you as the drama’s exposition began. You felt content, your favourite things all combined — your grumpy scholar, movies and this comfortable warmth among you two. The fluffiness of your surroundings and the warmth radiating off Anaxa was enough to make you happy. The romantic atmosphere was, however, short-lived, as Anaxagoras, the ever-so-confident scholar, commenced his commentary.

“But never will I cease from dirge and sore lament, while I look on the trembling rays of the bright stars, or on this light of day; but like the nightingale, slayer of her offspring, I will wail without ceasing, and cry aloud to all, here, at the doors of my father”, Electra lamented her father.

“She mourns her father, yet he was the one to sacrifice his daughter - her sister - to a goddess to wage war…”, he grumbled, chewing on some popcorn as he blankly stared ahead. “Mhm, well, she loved him very much, so I understand why she’d feel that way.” “Hmph.”

Anaxa sighed, choosing to be silent instead, and held you close, a hand moving to move a strand out of your face. Your eyes started to feel heavy soon, as you relaxed to his even, silent breaths; the steady beat of his heart functioning as a lullaby.

Anaxa huffed, the corners of his mouth raising. He was more than just content. He’d watch these nonsensical dramas for you. He’d do anything if you asked him to. But he knew that he didn’t need to make a multitude of sacrifices for you - because you were just happy with him. And the renowned scholar was happy too. A happy you, dromas onesies and blankets and a comfortable evening like this was truly all he needed.

[trendywaifus]

don’t you love it when they run? ( also im revamping my masterlist. ) you and black swan record for her onlyfans video cw: gn! reader with a dick/strap, rough sex, manhandling, teasing, cursing, overstimulation, top! reader, bottom! black swan, spanking, pet names, restraints

one of the favorite things that black swan’s shameless subscribers love to see is a majestic woman with a guarded aura get put in her place. why not give the audience what they desire while she orchestrates savory memories and have her fun?

the memokeeper’s legs dangles off the ends of the bed, rivers of tousled, pale purple hair splayed out across the sheets as you fuck her into the mattress. your body is flushed against hers, sweaty bare skin sliding over the other as your hips roughly slaps her ass at a rapid pace. black swan feels hot and lightheaded but the controlled smile on her countenance never leaves her subtle, trembling peach lips.

“ st-still want to smile while i’m fucking you like this? ” you groan, nails digging into her love handles, repeatedly fucking your lengthy cock into her. a few moans leaves the woman’s mouth before she taunts you in a teasing whisper, “ a-are you implying that i shouldn’t be right now?” she tries to hide the quiver in her low voice to gain some semblance of control despite the position she’s in right now. you slow your pace and prop yourself up on your forearms to cast her an annoyed look.

“ do you really want to act like this in front of the camera, ‘swan? “ you ask low enough so the audio can barely pick up on your voice. her eyelids lowers, sunset eyes twinkles with a glint of mischief as the corner of her mouth curls into a small smirk. “ my dear, “ she drawls, her breath hitching ever so slightly as your shaft deliciously drag along her walls. “ i’m not quite sure what you’re directing at.” why is she trying to act like a brat?

with the roll of your eyes, your fingers wrap around her throat and slightly squeezed as you kissed her. the soft vibration of her hum tickles the tips of your fingertips. “ i’ll fuck you dumb. “

“ hm. do your worst, if you can— “

black swan’s words were cut short as you abruptly removed yourself off of her and wildly flipped her on her stomach with admirable strength. a silent gasp forces its way out of her lungs when she feels your entire body weigh on top of her. your hot, heavy breath wafts against the shell of her ear. “ i wonder. .” your fingers drum thoughtfully against her hip bones, “ if i can trick your ‘body’ into thinking what you’ll be feeling is naturally physical? “ a shiver runs down her spine at your breathless speculation.

black swan gasps, but this time, it’s loud and strained as your palm meanly comes in contact with her plush ass. you stand upright, yank her hips down until they’re barely off the bed, forcing her feet to touch the carpet floor. your digits curl around her wrists and wind them behind her back, bounding them in place. black swan lets out an airy chuckle, “ restraining me, my dear? you think i’ll run? “ she asks with raised brows. if she can, she’d crane her neck and give you a mocking smile masked as a patient one.

“ all you have to do is keep your feet on the floor and you’ll see why, gorgeous. “

your cock teases the memokeeper’s leaking slit, circling and rubbing against it until you hear soft huffs and puffs of frustration from her. before she can open her mouth to aim a retort at you, you slam yourself inside of her. “ o-oh! “ she moans. your thick shaft stretches her out and you don’t give her time to adjust when you snap your hips backward and forward all over again. from this position, she can practically feel everything, even in her legs. the prominent vein grazes a sweet spot causes black swan to dig her teeth into her fleshy bottom lip.

her slick walls clenches around you as she hears the sloppy squelching sounds of her dripping hole repeatedly taking your cock. your pace is consistent but not as fast as it was before—yet, her legs was already grow weak. “ hhngh. .” black swan can’t help but let out drawn out broken moans. you chuckle when you feel her knees buckle and twitch. “ you feel that already, baby? where’s your quips at, hmm? “

a breathy grunt claws out from her throat. god, she sounds so ethereal, you want more but for now you’ll take the chance to bully her. “ mind you, i’m not even going fast yet. “ you remark, watching her body jerk forward when you firmly thrust back into her again, pieces of her silky hair slides off from the gentle curve of her back. “ do your worst, she says.” you mock her, letting out another chuckle, rutting your hips into her. “ and i’m not even doing my best. “

“ y-you talk too much. .! “ she snaps, rare annoyance weighing with her wobbly voice.

“ and you really shouldn’t be talking at all—here, i’ll give you and what our viewers want. “ you pick up the rhythm, matching the fast beat of black swan’s ‘heart’.

“ a-ah! mmphhhh! ” a choked half-scream escapes from black swan’s panting chest, her feet struggling to stay still on the floor because of your relentless thrusts. again, she feels it—she feels your girthy length deeply kissing at her g-spot, filling her up to the brim each time without stopping. her nails digs into her clenched fists until her knuckles are ivory white.

“ now i know you can really this one, baby. “

her slick created a slippery mess all over your cock and groin and a sticky sound of your skin smacking into hers. black swan feels the hotness swelling in her belly as her head spins. you release one of her wrists to slap her ass again, eliciting a strained groan. she instinctively squeezes her pulsating walls around you once more. “ you’re free to cum whenever you want, i’m still going to fuck you silly after. “

she wants to bite back, to give you even a sliver of illusion that she’s still put together. but, her mind is jumbled, cloudy with lustful thoughts; it’s as if her tongue was tied into a knot too. the urge to release grows strong by the second from the grueling moment of your hips. her knees bends in and the only things that’s keeping her from collapsing is you hoisting her up with your body. black swan swears if she gaze upwards through her blurry vision, she can see constellations.

from one more aimed thrust, sunset eyes rolls to the back of black swan’s head and thick creamy fluids gushes out from her stuffed hole. “ theeere she goes. come on, give it to me, beautiful—let it alll out.” a bead of sweat drips down your brow and with tired hips, you still continue to fuck into her while she rides her high, camera long forgotten. a strangled moan leaves her drooling lips. with her freed hand, she grips at the sheets, twisting and turning the silk fabric to endure the intense amounts of pleasure crashing into her body like wild waves on a stormy night.

“ that’s right, baby—take it. “ black swan hears you hiss and then not even bothering to hide your moan right after. you feel so raw inside of her, it’s starting to finally make her go dumb and hyper sensitive. she wants, no, needs this moment to be engraved in her memory. you’re so utterly addicting, it’s driving her crazy.

series of broken moans leaves black swan’s body as your fat cock rubs against her sloppy, overstimulated walls. the mushroom head hits an abused, spongy spot inside her pussy which leaves the usually composed woman pathetically attempting to move away from your thrusts by clawing up the sheets with her freed hand and the balls of her heels.

“ aht. aht. “ you tut, planting your upper body on top of her back, stopping her with your weight. you grasp black swan’s jaw and maneuvered her head to face you enough to see the dazed expression on her beautiful features. “ aren’t you a little too graceful to be running? stay and gimme a kiss, sweetheart. .“

[aventurineswife]

Hi, can I request headcanons for a memorykeeper!reader x boothill, sunday and any of the boys you want? It's okay if not :D

To Be Remembered

Tags: Boothill x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Memokeeper!Reader, Slow Burn, Angst with Hopeful Undertones, Themes of Loss, Revenge, and Redemption, Found Family Themes, Mutual Understanding & Comfort, Subtle Romantic Undertones, Exploration of Memory & Identity.

Warnings: Mentions of Death & Loss, Survivor’s Guilt & Trauma Themes, Violence & Gunfights, Existential Themes (Questioning mortality, identity, and the nature of memories), Emotional Vulnerability, Mild Religious & Philosophical Themes.

Boothill is a man consumed by revenge, but when he meets you—a wandering Memokeeper—he can’t help but be intrigued. Someone who treasures memories above all else? In a way, you remind him of himself. After all, his vengeance is fueled by memories of a home and family that no longer exist.

He’s wary at first, suspecting you might be another IPC informant. But when you speak of the transient nature of existence and your quest to preserve the memories of those who might otherwise be forgotten, something in him softens. You understand loss in a way few do.

You offer to record his story, to make sure it isn’t lost to time. Boothill scoffs—he ain’t lookin’ for no legend, just blood on his hands. But later, when he’s sitting by a fire, staring at the stars, he wonders if maybe… maybe having someone remember him for something more than destruction wouldn’t be so bad.

He tests you in his own way, asking about the most thrilling, sorrowful, and ridiculous memories you’ve collected. He listens with an unreadable expression, then grins, sharp-toothed and dangerous. “Damn, darlin’, I hope you got room for a few more.”

Despite his rough nature, Boothill is surprisingly protective of you. “Ain’t no point collectin’ memories if you ain’t alive to tell ‘em,” he mutters, pulling you behind cover when a shootout erupts. He’s reckless with himself but careful with you—perhaps because he knows memories are fragile things, and he doesn’t want to see yours end too soon.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly bold, he asks what memories of him you’ve collected so far. You tease him, listing every gunfight, every smirk, every reckless stunt. But when you add, “The way your voice softens when you talk about home,” he goes quiet, staring into the distance.

One night, as he leans against his hoverbike, he asks, “If I die, will you remember me?” It’s the first time he’s ever sounded uncertain. You promise you will. And for the first time in a long while, Boothill smiles—not his usual cocky grin, but something softer, almost peaceful.

Sunday is accustomed to navigating between dreams and reality, so the concept of you—a being who exists through memory—intrigues him deeply. He sees you as something ephemeral, neither fully of the material world nor entirely beyond it.

When you first meet, he studies you carefully, eyes unreadable. “A being who preserves memories, yet does not live bound to them. How fascinating…” He’s hesitant to trust at first, unsure if your presence is a blessing or a test of his convictions.

He often muses on your existence, speaking in poetic riddles. “Do you find comfort in your immortality, or does it feel like grasping at echoes in the wind?” He asks, his halo casting a faint glow in the dim light.

You offer to record his memories, but Sunday hesitates. His past is tangled, filled with choices he isn’t proud of. He fears being remembered for his failures more than being forgotten. Yet, late at night, when the weight of his past settles upon him, he finds himself whispering stories to you. Not grand tales of leadership, but quiet moments—watching the Charmony doves, the way the festival lights flickered, the laughter of children he swore to protect.

You notice how he carries guilt like an old wound, how his wings tremble slightly when he speaks of the Sweetdream Paradise. One evening, you tell him: “Memories do not judge, they simply exist. Let them be, Sunday.” He falls silent, staring at you for a long moment before nodding, as if accepting a truth he had long denied himself.

He’s deeply curious about the memories you collect, often asking about the happiest, most sorrowful, and most peculiar moments you’ve recorded. His fascination is both intellectual and deeply personal—perhaps, in understanding how others live, he hopes to reconcile the contradictions within himself. He listens with quiet intensity, golden eyes flickering with emotions he rarely allows himself to express.

You notice the way he reacts to certain stories—the warmth in his voice when you describe a small town’s festival, the quiet longing when you recount a tale of lovers who found peace beyond tragedy. “You are drawn to stories of redemption,” you observe one evening. He offers a soft smile, one tinged with melancholy. “Perhaps because I have yet to find my own.”

Though Sunday maintains an air of detachment, you catch the moments where his guard falters. The way his wings twitch slightly when you stand too close. The brief, fleeting touches—his gloved hand grazing yours when you pass him a book, his shoulder leaning into yours when watching the stars.

One day, he turns to you and asks, “If I were to fade, would you keep my memory?” The weight in his voice is heavy, as if he is afraid of the answer. You meet his gaze and tell him, “I would not let you be forgotten.” His breath hitches, and for once, Sunday allows himself to believe in something beyond dreams.

You share a quiet companionship, a mutual understanding that goes beyond words. He speaks in riddles and philosophy, you answer with the weight of history and remembrance. It is a dance between past and present, between ephemeral existence and eternal memory.

And perhaps, in the echoes of the stories you collect, Sunday begins to believe that he, too, can move forward—not just as a ghost of his past, but as someone who still has a future worth remembering.

[akutasoda]

hiii i saw your reqs were open ^^ i'm the anon who asked for insomniac!reader w/ bsd characters a few months ago... can i ask for the same prompt with jiaoqiu, sunday, and maybeee reca please?

tysm <33

sleepless nights with you

synopsis - how they are when you have insomnia

includes - jiaoqiu, sunday, reca

warnings - gn!reader, reader has insomnia, wc - 592

a/n: ofc you can anon :) hope you've been fairing well ^^

jiaoqiu ★↷

↪the very moment you had even the slightest disruption in your usual sleeping schedule, jiaoqiu was monitoring you to the best of his abilities.

↪so while he would try to help in the initial stages, preventing it turning into actual insomnia, sometimes it can't be helped but he certainly wouldn't sit back and let you deal with it yourself.

↪jiaoqiu would try everything to help ease it in little steps. his methods would entail anything from creating you specific foods tailored to helping you - most likely the least spicy medicines he'd ever make - to helping you adjust the shared bedroom to more of your likings.

↪he takes your insomnia very seriously - you know he means well. so it became quite common to notice jiaoqiu being as attentive as he can toward you, ensuring you didn't indulge in any habits that can harm your sleeping habits.

↪any of which could include making sure you don't consume any tea or coffee near going to bed, making sure you don't nap during the day and, more importantly, making sure you stick to a healthy sleeping schedule.

↪it would be safe to say, your insomnia never stood a chance at hanging around for long with jiaoqiu around.

sunday ★↷

↪sunday himself probably isn't much of a stranger to at least some forms of minor insomnia, or at the minimum some sleeping complications so he might be of use with offering advice for yours - whether that works for you or not is a different concept.

↪at the very least, he's sympathetic to the situation and most likely can be of help - which is either derived from advice from his own happenings or his aided research into how to help you.

↪he would certainly aim to aid you as much as he can, involving helping you manage a healthy sleep schedule and sticking to it, or even going as far as helping deduce the source of the cause for your insomnia.

↪if it so happens to be due to a build up of stress or anxiety, sunday will do everything in his power to help reduce that cause. even if it's something as simple as your room being too hot or cold, he'd help.

↪sunday is probably well aware of how annoying or troubling it is to have such issues so he'd waste no time in helping to reduce it as quickly as possible.

reca ★↷

↪he certainly would be able to notice when you've developed insomnia but reca might be near to helpless when it comes to helping you overcome it, at least initially.

↪reca isn't exactly a prime candidate for what having a healthy sleep schedule looks like - occasionally he may get a bit too dedicated to his films and such - and the fact that being a memokeeper may grant him the leniency to not keep one.

↪but he'd be very willing to put some research in or help you. whether that included being with you personally to help you develop and maintain an established healthy sleep schedule, or just simply helping to look into ways to swiftly deal with it.

↪and during your attempts to cure your insomnia, reca would certainly be at your whim to help as much as he can, so maybe along the way he'd build up a semi healthy sleep schedule for himself…

[ari3shenanigans]

Two Birds, One Post.

Black Swan×GN/AFAB!Reader

Robin×GN!Reader

WARNINGS: NSFW, MEN DNI!

༻ꕀBlack Swan × GN!Reader

Featuring: Overstimulation, Mirror Sex, Fingering, Sub!Reader

Two fingers lazily pumped inside your cunt with the memokeeper's head resting on your shoulder with her usual gentle smile. Her free hand resided beneath your chin, making sure you stayed focus on the lovely scene in the mirror.

Sat on Black Swan's lap, she was in no rush at all, whispering praises in your ear every now and then as she admired the sight of you messily sprawled out on her lap with your cunt smearing slick on her fingers and lap.

"Can't you go-.. any faster..?"

Saying that was probably your first mistake.

"Sure I can, darling."

She murmured, slipping a third finger in, sinking in down to the knuckle before slowly pulling them out and stuffing them back in. Each time she pulled out, her fingers curled so nicely against that sweet spot, earning a shaky moan from you.

The pace began increasing faster than you could keep up with, leaving you whining and panting in the memokeeper's lap. Black Swan kissed your neck a bit, sighing contentedly as she felt you clenching around her tightly. The sight in the mirror definitely didn't help, only amplifying the redness in your cheeks, meanwhile, Swan was adding a fourth finger, taking mental notes of all your reactions.

"H-hahh.. nmmh.. close..."

Though, this is only the beginning of a very, very long night.

༻ꕀRobin × GN!Reader

Featuring: Praise, Service-Top!Reader, mm.. Robin pussy eating, Collars n Leashes, Fingering, A Lil Fluff(?)

"That's a good girl..."

Robin murmured, leash wrapped around her hand as you lapped at her cunt like a greedy puppy. The collar around your neck was so perfectly tight, giving that snug choking sensation with the addition of the best meal of your life.

Your tongue delved into the depths of Robin's cunt as you let out a satisfactory hum at the taste and the little sounds she made. Her fingers tangled into your hair, stuffing your face against her.

"You're doing so good..."

You lapped at her clit eagerly as you stuffed two fingers into her cunt, feeling her clench around them with her back arching. Robin was heavily panting by now, letting out little whines and squeaks. Her eyes shut tightly, a few curls of your fingers having her gushing cum onto them, letting out a quiet groan. You pulled your fingers out soon after her orgasm subsided. Fluids clung to them as you brought them to your mouth to lick clean.

Robin lightly tugged on the leash as you crawled up to rest on top of her with a happy little smile, face stuffed in her chest happily as she took the collar off of you, setting it aside.

"You did well, darling..."

@akari-pop6 @quickiemonster

[moviememokeeper]

hear me out: Reca with a reader that's the exact opposite of him. Quiet. Doesn't like attention - desperately wants to fade away into the background of life. Hates busy/loud environments. Idk I just think this could be a cool idea but I'm pretty bad at writing characters, my brain comes up with cool ideas but cannot expand upon them. Please help T-T

Reca is a YAPPER right He will talk about his partner at any given opportunity, he wants to show you off to the world he loves you so much

However he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable y'know? so if reader doesn't want any attention from the public, he'll make damn sure they say anonymous. This is where being a memokeeper is extremely useful, the one time a noisy paparizzi found out about the relationship he just erased their memory of the encounter and made sure the pictures got deleted.

he still wants to bring you to movie premiers, events, award shows, etc. but he won't force you to come with him.

He appreciates that you listen to his yapping, a lot of people just nod along or stop hanging out with him entirely outside of work because he talks too much, but like, you actually listen and he couldn't be more thankful

calm walks outside, indoor movie nights, cuddles after long days of work yes yes yes I think he'd like that a lot coming home to a calm environment with a person he loves after a hectic day Look, the man is a hyperactive menace, but he needs some time to recharge his batteries

[ardensregias]

SEEING AVENTURINE IN THE LIVESTREAM MADE ME THINK ABOUT MEMOKEEPER! READER WITH HIM :o

I mean since he have such a tragic past, it would be very interesting to see someone who can look into his memories as a Sigonian

I'm so happy you like him too (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) hope I'm not troubling you

not at all :3 this will contains some leaks and fanarts i've seen about his past! may not be 100% accurate. also memokeepers can choose who they want to be visible to, but i'm not sure about the fortune telling part. this still looks bad despite being in my draft for days goddamn.

the first time he met you was when you're passing by ipc's pier point, only to spot an exhausted aventurine splayed on his million-credit couch.

since memokeepers are able to become invisible, you curiously approach his room, intrigued by his wealth. and out of kindness, you carefully moved him into his bed, before finding his 'aventurine' stone—which indicates his importance to the corporation.

your growing curiosity led you to pry into his past, watching all the hardships and suffering he had to go through during his childhood, which was supposed to be filled with joy and laughter. instead, you watch as they place thick and heavy chains around his neck and wrists, left him with little to no food, marked his neck with the word 'slave', and force the poor boy to work tirelessly. scene after scene plays out like a film, as a proof of just how cruel the ipc can be.

you stopped looking into his memories, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. you would never guess that this easygoing and arrogant man hides such a past.

eventually, you start following him around—watching him gamble, standing in the corner when he sleeps, even sneaking into the ipc's annual meeting just to make sure he's safe. you find him fascinating, the way he can acts so haughty while having experienced so many things he should never have gone through.

until one day, aventurine's guts tell him to catch this strange, mysterious creature that has been stalking him. but you're so hard to catch, so hard that he has to pretend to sleep to make you lower your guard and make yourself visible.

"snooping around again, little memokeeper?" he chuckles the moment you turn around in surprise. you do want to show yourself to him, but not this early! and when you tried to escape, he caught your hand just before you could teleport, pulling you closer, "since you already know so much about me, i can't possibly let you roam freely anymore,"

so now you live with a rich senior manager of the largest corporation in the cosmos, always stuck to his side—aventurine wouldn't like it if you were to use the knowledge about his past for something that'll ruin his business!

he spoils you, of course—while ignoring the weird look he gets from his subordinates and acquaintances when they saw him talking to the air. so you take care of him in return! comforting him when he has a bad day and making sure he did not forget his meals.

this is a memokeeper's love language me thinks: you also create light cones of the moments when he's the happiest—which are usually when you're around, and you bring them to the garden of recollection to make sure you have something to remember him when the fated day comes. aventurine also keeps some of these rectangle objects in his room, and he probably gaze at the pictures when you're away collecting memories.

bonus: imagine aventurine asking you to reveal his luck for today before he went to gamble, to which you refuse, since memokeepers cannot use their powers for self-indulgent reasons—congrats, now you have earned yourself a pouty aven!