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starcharmed · 3 months ago

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“I don’t like this color.”

“Of course you don’t…”

Aventurine was tired. His back was sore from sitting upright on his bed for at least the past half-hour.

He’d cracked his eyes open at the sight of you applying, wiping lipstick off of your lips, reapplying, and repeating the entire process. In honesty, Aventurine couldn’t be bothered to lift his head from his pillow to even ask what the hell you were up to.

Not even seconds after you saw him shift you were leaning down to look at his face, a gentle smile on your own as you oh so nicely asked for his assistance.

Turns out, you had come to the realization your lipstick bag was packed to the maximum at the ripe time of nine in the morning.

And you needed a better lipstick blotter than tissues.

Aventurine blinked, the sticky feeling of lipgloss unexpectedly landing on his cheek. He saw you frown at the imprint, shaking your head before tossing that tube in the ‘nope’ pile.

“Honey-” He nearly flinched back when you grasped his chin, planting a kiss that would surely leave a hot pink tint on his lips, “Honey, I think you should take a break.”

“But I’m almost done.” You reached your hand up to run your thumb over his cheekbone, “Besides, you look pretty like this.”

It was almost as if the pink on his lips spread across his face. Aventurine ducked his head, flush not unnoticed by you.

You patted his cheek and he looked up, eyes locking onto the two red lipstick tubes between your fingers. Squinting at the faded condition of one, it was tossed aside. “One more and we’re done.” Yeah, he figured that one out.

“Y’know”, he watched as you struggled to pull the cap off, frowning before it opened with a sharp sound, “I was halfway convinced you would leave halfway through my testing.”

He almost snorted, rubbing his thumb over his fingers, “Yeah? Like you wouldn’t have dragged me back by my hair.”

“I wouldn’t have.” Aventurine felt your lips press against his cheek (again), “You could’ve just-”

“Said no?”

“Yeah.” Your index finger slipped underneath his chin as you peered at his face, “I wouldn’t have minded.”

He felt himself smile callously, “I just wanted to help you out with something small, for once.”

Aventurine watched you purse your lips at him, forgoing a response. He was glad you did so, honestly, not thinking he could have a back-and-forth conversation with you at the present moment.

“This was a very big ‘thing’, Aventurine. The bag was practically screaming to be cleaned out”, a finger was pointed at him in mock seriousness, “Guess you could say everything in it was pancaked.”

He laughed a short, sugary sound at the low-hanging joke. Feeling the lipstick crack against his face as his muscles pulled, a hand going to cover his lips.

“C’mon”, you held out a hand, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

A brightened smile was on your face, and that was enough for Aventurine to feel as if everything was right within the world.

#writings.#haven’t written for him in 5ever 🥀🥀#lazily beta’d if something is different later i probably changed it after post whoops #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr drabbles #hsr x reader #hsr x you

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starcharmed · 3 months ago

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ʚଓ .ᐟ.ᐟ - it's natural when it comes to you

they show actions of affection in their own ways - ft. dan heng, sunday & luocha

multi-character/separate, consider this a slight luocha character study, canon divergence (in order of parts: after xianzhou, after 2.7, pre-xianzhou storyline)

⟡ - this one's for you @kazucee <3

Calming down crowds during a crisis is like flipping a coin, it’s either going to be your lucky day or you’re going to end up socked straight in the face.

Ugh, just your luck sometimes. You normally held up your end on your own. Honestly you wished the Express had an extra member sometimes. It would save trouble when certain people (who will not be named) stayed cooped up in their room….and you could also shove some on-planet chores onto them.

You thanked whichever star granted Dan Heng the energy to appear on Xianzhou again, following behind him through the string of people as you gripped his wrist. Some poor marastricken guy had caused a scene in the process of transforming. In a public area nonetheless.

It left the Cloud Knights in disarray while Dan Heng went to step in to help — he had wanted you to stay put, but you couldn’t have him dealing with Xianzhou officials on his own again.

He huffed, yet allowed you to go with him anyways.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a man — foxian, you took note — trying to squeeze between two crates to sneak past the barrier. You slid away from Dan Heng, his conversation with the Cloud Knights becoming distant.

“Hey”, the man froze at the sound of your voice, ears darting straight up as he fixed his gaze on you, “You need to get back behind the set zone.”

He didn’t listen, your brows furrowing, reaching out and grasping his arm, “Hey-”

A sharp breath left you at the sudden loss of contact, snapping your eyes up just as he raised his arm back fast. The man swung it back just as quickly and you couldn’t raise your arms to block quick enough.

You squeezed your eyes and braced for the impact before you were tugged back, harshly. The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounded in the air, the spread chatter silencing the air. Opening your eyes, your hands raised to cover your mouth at the sight of Dan Heng hunched over.

Good Aha, was he bleeding?

“Dan Heng!” You scrambled upwards, stumbling when a lone Cloud Knight bumped into your shoulder (thanks man) on his way to apprehend the assaulter.

He brought back his hand and you watched the blood gleam in the light, the coat was thin but with how Dan Heng had pressed it against his face you supposed it spread fully.

“I’m fine”, his face wasn’t scratched, it was cut. Thin and long cuts which barely nicked under his eye. They traveled down, down until they were level with the bottom of his lip.

Oh Aha, we’re really in it now.

“Are you serious?” You gave him a pointed look, “You look like a curtain that was a bit too tempting for a cat.”

Dan Heng didn’t laugh, great.

You foot shifted on the ground awkwardly before you motioned, “C’mon…there’s gotta be some sort of first aid over here.”

“It’s alright.”

“Would you rather go back to the Express looking like this?”

There were hardly any medical supplies on scene that hadn’t already been used for the other wounded, so the both of you were left to your devices to pick through the remains cognate to vultures. There had hardly been enough antiseptic to even dampen the cloth used for sterilization.

Turns out cuts’ images matched up to your presumptions, they weren’t deep enough to need any lot of closure bandage. You pressed the cloth against Dan Heng’s cheek and listened to him hiss at the sting. You would’ve poked fun at the sound if not for the fact that might have been yourself.

It almost was you.

Good stars, appreciativeness was not your strong suit. Thank you for saving my face? Good going, Dan Heng? Sorry I caused your perfect and nice and pretty and wonderful face to get sliced?

The cloth was dropped sloppily on one of the many crafts surrounding the two of you. Dan Heng didn’t follow your movements this time, his face stuck in an engrossed state as he fidgeted with his bracer.

“Thank you for...that.” The word hung in the air. ‘That’ could be from saving you just minutes ago. ‘That’ could be from when he had brought you warm soup when you were sick last month, even though you had specifically said no to other offers because you didn’t want to get him sick, too. ‘That’ could be from when he threw Cloud Piercer just in time to stop a voidranger-reaver from turning your back into an extreme tic-tac-toe game.

You really hadn’t realized how little you had said words of gratitude to Dan Heng, nevertheless show him via any actions. How long has it been since you last patched him up? Since you didn’t brush wounds off – from your person or his own – until you got back to the Express or the planet’s resident healer stepped in themselves.

“Don’t worry about it, you’d do the same.” Silence arose as Dan Heng lifted his eyes to meet yours, a meager smile tugging at his lips, “Besides, I had meant it when I said I was fine.”

Okay, you just wanted to say okay and let it be okay. “Are we okay?”

Confusion passed over his face, “Pardon? Why wouldn’t we be?”

“It’s just that, we haven’t really talked since…” a deep breath was released from your body as you messed with your fingers out of pure habit, “Since Phantylia.”

Dan Heng still as he glanced away, his lips pressing into a thin line, “I thought it would be best to let it pass, particularly since neither of us wanted to bring it up at the moment in time. And-”

He cut himself off while eyes darted between you and the ground in a near distraught motion. “I didn’t think you’d want to be with me after everything seen and said.”

Oh.

Not be with Dan Heng? To not laugh together under a blanket fort in his room over corny entries saved in the Data Bank? To not reach for each others hand in too tense situations? To not mess with each others feet during breakfast like children? To not make shadow puppets of newly seen critters?

Just because of his past?

“Dan Heng if I ever give up on you because of your past, I want you to smack me over the head with Cloud Piercer.” Strong retort but okay.

You shushed him before he could even speak up, scooting him over so you could sit beside him. “I don’t care.”

Dan Heng closed his eyes, his hands forming fists as they squeezed air tightly. Trying to compress it as if it were his own emotions. You clasped your hands over his, undoing the fist to interlace your own fingers with his.

“I care about you, Dan Heng.”

He lifted his head, his face complete with emotion where your own was nothing but serious. It made him laugh as if the thought of your normal expressions swapped was the funniest thing in the world.

A tight squeeze to your hand, “I care about you, too.”

Oh.

“We’re not…” you swallowed, your mouth feeling dry, “We’re not just talking about well-being anymore, are we?”

He answered you in a kiss.

Sunday has made note of each member of the Express’ personal preferences of gifts. March either wants something with any amount of sugar or a cute charm, Himeko isn’t really picky but she does enjoy things she can sit on her side table in her room.

Welt simply likes for Sunday to “report in” on anything he has found interesting on his trip, and Dan Heng doesn’t seem to care if Sunday brings him back anything or not.

However, he once brought back a box of mixed tea leaves for the quiet man, and Sunday swore he got a smile of thanks. Pom-Pom didn’t want anything (although Sunday knew better and got them a new hat to wear around.)

You were difficult to figure out. Normally, it only took a few good observations to figure out the others, but you were different. Sunday couldn’t pinpoint a specific branch of gift that you specifically liked, you noticed his efforts once and had said, “I’m fine with anything.”

Now he was stuck.

The flowers laid in rows within the small Belobog shop were…appealing. Although Sunday had no clue if you were allergic. He didn’t need another tally on his ‘Attempts at Killing An Express Member’ board.

If he couldn’t get real flowers was there any way he could obtain fake ones with…well, without getting fake, fake flowers?

Sunday blinked, an idea sparking in his brain as he slipped his phone out of his pocket. Maybe he could make you some? He had watched March put together an origami kit once, maybe she could give him tips?...Or maybe just guide him through the entire process….

March’s contact wasn’t hard to find in his (very short) messenger list. Sunday found it slightly endearing to how dedicated the bubbly girl was in her mission to send him wishes of happy mornings.

Sunday didn’t bother to check his spelling – a very unseemly action from his person – before sending March a quick message.

She responded almost immediately.

Carrying loaded bags filled with colorful paper was not the most subtle thing ever, although Sunday assumed everyone had seen weirder. He couldn’t reach to knock on March’s cabin door before it was slammed open, he was practically dragged inside as she motioned for Sunday to sit in her “work area”.

Which really was a blanketed area with a few stuffies huddled around.

It was rather difficult to be taught by March. Her overly eccentric movements were hard to follow and her explanations…

Let’s just say the origami birds on Penacony didn’t seem so irrational, after all.

It was a rather easy process overall, even though some pieces were torn when getting their stems violently glued on. A few sticky fingers and gentle handling later and Sunday finally had his bouquet of flowers. Or rather, your bouquet of flowers.

He contemplated what to say. Should he approach with a string of confidence? If he did, it would most likely fade quickly. Confrontation was a thing Sunday could handle smoothly. But to have a conversation with you face-to-face? Nerve-racking, actually.

A knock to your door, a repositioning of feet, eyes checking over the bouquet once more. Sunday’s eyes moved upwards quickly when he heard your cabin door open, careful not to make his grip tighter upon the gift in hand.

“These are for you”, Sunday held out the paper bouquet, trying to keep a steady hand, “Just something I made since I couldn’t find anything on planet I liked for you.”

“I would hope so”, you responded with a light tone, “I would like not to think you made these beauties for my pillow.”

Your fingertips ran over the formed petals softly, lips parting in awe, “How long did it take you to do this?”

He could feel his wings twitch. “I had some help.”

Was that too modest?

“Well, they’re wonderful nonetheless.” You smiled and the beat of his heart accelerated slightly, “Thank you, Sunday.”

He nodded in welcome, sparing one last glance at your beam before he was face-to-face with your cabin’s door again.

That went well.

The peppermint tea’s scent filled your senses strongly as you rotated the cup, trying to find a cooler side to the hot item. You had awakened early that day, throat burning as you spoke quite hoarsely. That was all it took for Luocha to frown and immediately disappear in the direction of your kitchen.

You were glad Luocha decided to stay nested at your place for another day. Even though you weren’t in bad enough condition to not make yourself something like tea, it was less work on your sickened body.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Luocha’s voice broke out, the back of his hand coming to rest on your forehead. Temperature check, you noted. He didn’t seem pleased with the result, that stupidly adorable frown never leaving his face.

“You’re still warm.”

You let out a snort, tilting your cup just enough to take a small sip from its containments, “Good observation, Sherlock.”

Luocha tapped the center of your forehead as you tried to wave his hand away, “Hush, now. Rest your throat, as well. I don’t need you screeching more than you already are.”

He chuckled at his own joke, you also noted with a frown. What a dork.

“What would I ever do without you?” Luocha hummed in thought, one of your mugs now in his own hand. The one with the single marigold printed in the center, vibrant with a lovely shade of orange.

He didn’t bother to blow his tea, choosing to sit in front of your person instead of beside, “I’d think you would die.”

You don’t know the half of it, do you Luocha?

“I’d think I would at least last a day.” Low hanging joke to follow up on another low hanging joke, nice going, “Maybe a week if I get lucky.”

“Hopefully you’ll do just fine.” Luocha swirled his cup around, taking a long sip.

You blinked. Hopefully?

He glanced up at you, confusion flashing over his face. You must’ve spoken aloud.

“I apologize”, he set his cup aside and slid it aside, “I misspoke. Hopefully you would do just fine.”

The unease never fully left your body. Luocha noticed, as he always does. He grasp the hand that had slipped from your mug, bringing it to his lips. A brush of lips against your knuckles before a squeeze of affection was delivered upon it.

“I’m not ever truly leaving you, love.”

And you were a fool to believe him.

#writings.#listen idk if they use bandaids and have marigolds in hsr but if they can have time traveling planets & talking dogs...c'mon #this was beta'd thrice but still be wary i write at like 11pm #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #sunday x reader #sunday x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #luocha x reader #luocha x you

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starcharmed · 3 months ago

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“can i have another bracelet?” gojo was practically flopped on your back, whiny tone prominent as it always was whenever he asked for something he had to obtain.

“this is your seventh one, you’re going to get a sugar high”, you tried to shove him off, but rolling your shoulder did about as much damage to him as a feather.

you should have known better than to wear a candy bracelet near gojo satoru of all people. a start of a new sweet addiction. he’s managed to eat enough gummy bear packs to make a five year-old with the biggest sweet tooth sick, had somehow obtained the sweetest chewing gum (which you had to throw out because you were sick of how he smacked it so loudly), and don’t even get you started on his chocolate phase.

“sixth, actually." gojo snorted sharply, “shows how much you care.”

about what? your unhealthy sugar addiction? you brushed the retort aside. it was one thing going quip-for-quip with gojo normally, but doing it whilst he craved any sort of candy like a child who got cleared at the dentist? yikes…

a huff escaped you, “how about you get off of me and i’ll think about it, yeah?” you wished you lead with that statement, sighing in relief as you rolled over. with a turn of your head gojo was now completely in your view, sitting with his legs crossed and a hand outstretched. the sight would have made you laugh if not for the acquired annoyance of the entire scenario leading to it.

sometimes you wonder if you should have chunked out the bag of abominable bracelets the second your younger brother shoved them in your hands, forsaking them himself. although you suppose it was better that gojo caught you with them instead of him, he absolutely would have bribed the eight year-old into giving them all to himself.

you held out your wrist, letting him slide one off and breaking the string in the process. your nose scrunched up but gojo didn’t seem to care as he popped the entire bracelet into his mouth much to your horror.

“the string-”

“if’el oum oot.” gojo’s crude crunches only continued as he spoke and you swear you saw the corners of his lips upturn just slightly as he chewed at the sight of your disgust.

pure exhaustion overtook your facial expression as you brought your hands to cover your face, “you’re so disgusting and you’re going to choke and die on a stupid string.”

“nah.” he finished it that quickly? you nearly jumped when his hand went to tug off another bracelet on your wrist – your neverending arsenal of doltish candy bracelets, “a stupid string isn’t going to take me out.”

yeah, right. he lifted your hand from your face to take off another candy bracelet properly, realizing that his childish tugs weren’t going to do much in his favor. you felt wet, sweet kiss on the corner of your lips and pushed away his face in a knee-jerk action.

“what the hell?! gross”, you wiped the remains of the kiss from the side of your mouth, listening to him gasp in melodramatic incredulity.

“that’s a product of my pure thankfulness, you heartless scoundrel.”

“please never say scoundrel ever again, ‘toru, or i promise you that will you never see the candy bracelets again.” you heard his mouth snap shut, stopping his rejoinder immediately. now that made you huff out a breath of laughter.

#writings.#this was gonna be a different drabble abt gojo's sugary habits but oh well #not beta'd sorry if anything's weird 👩🏽‍💻#gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader

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starcharmed · 3 months ago

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hi! <3 i read your ajax meet-cutes and mess-ups sketch and i thought, what if mc's business partner ended up being ajax himself? imagine their faces when they ran into each other at that very reserved seat 🤭 i would like to read it!

when i tell you that i sat UP when i got this ask, that's suchhh a smart twist ugh 🤞🏽 i'll def storm up something with this, the idea is already so interesting to work with

#inbox.#anon.#ty anon for single handily restoring my ajax brainrot to the fullest

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starcharmed · 3 months ago

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풋사랑 .ᐟ.ᐟ - meet-cutes and mess-ups

they always say to make a solid impression on someone you like... - ft. tartaglia, lyney & phainon

multi-character/separate, modern au, unrealistic work scenarios & environments, fem terms used in tartaglia’s part, cheesy pieces (these are meet-cutes we're talking about, word rot turned into drabbles so plots are weird(?), not beta'd

⟡ - hate genshin sm but some of the characters just stay with me 5ever

WHOSE RESERVATION? ♪ a tutorial on how a mixup with names can land you a possible date

“How in the world do you confuse my name with Ajax for god’s sake?”

“How in the world-? Are you seventy?”

Ajax couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past his lips, overloaded with amusement and irritation that thrummed within his gut. He waved off your sputters, focusing upon the hostess again, “Listen, lady. Is there any way you can slide missy over here in another time slot? I have someone to meet for dinner, and I’m late as it is.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine without a headache for a few more minutes.” You scoffed at him, scoffed. Offense took form on his face, although most of it was exaggerated, that comment hurt his poor soul.

“Oh? I have to meet a business to discuss investments, whom is expecting you?” You looked like you didn’t believe him. You probably didn’t believe him.

“Someone important as well.” No elaboration, you turned to the hostess. “You seriously cannot find another time slot him today? No openings?”

“For me?” Give him a bring, “I’ll have you know, I got here before you.” You scowled as he jabbed a finger in the direction of your chest. Slapping at his hand, he withdrew it back to your satisfaction.

With a huff you gave him a pointed look, “Well I scheduled my reservation before you.”

“Excuse me”, the hostess’ tense voice reached the both of you, her fingers tapping restlessly, “But I’m afraid that if you two cannot reach a decision soon, you both will have to leave. You’re causing discord and other people are waiting.”

His eyes flickered to your own, a flush creeping up the base of his neck at the intensity within your own. You motioned to the hostess with your eyes, daring him to say something that would surely lead to another middle-school argument.

Ajax groaned aloud, throwing up a hand in a sign of forgoing his spot (which he unquestionably reserved and paid for), “Have fun meeting your important…partner, or whatever.”

Your face lit up as if you had won the lottery, smiling at him tightly as if in a taunt, “That you Mister Business Man, you’re so generous.”

Whatever. At least he could blame you, or better yet the hostess, when asked why he missed a meeting. Not his fault, totally would go over smoothly.

“Hey.”

With a glance back, he scrunched his brows together questionably at your call, “If you meet me back here in a week, I can pay the reservation fee that you, y’know paid for nothing.”

Oh. Well, it was better than hearing anything mocking coming from your mouth. He gave a small smile, his lips barely upturning but you seemed to take it anyway. Waving him off as he mumbled a goodbye, as if you could even hear it within the four feet of distance now between your persons.

He hoped you did.

HOT, HOT, HOT! ♪ mess up turned into a meet up?

In Lyney’s absolute defense, he was not completely in fault for bumping into you.

Freminet had been awfully fussy that day. From screaming in a tantrum because he had drunken the last of his favorite juice the night before, begging (but more akin to demanding) both Lyney and his twin go to the store at the prime time of seven thirty in the morning to go get him some. They did, only for him to throw down the juice box on the floor of Lyney’s car because “it was too late for it”.

Lynette had promised him that if he were to breathe and try to calm down, she and Lyney would take him to the local coffeehouse and get a treat. He could then drink his juice for dinner as per the norm. The small blond only nodded with enthusiasm.

So when their order number was called, Lyney grasped all three items – some cinnamon coffee cake that Lynette said she was going to share with Freminet, the chai latte which just had to be iced resided in his left hand also belonged to her; Lyney had only ordered an americano last minute, not wanting to end up thirsty on the drive back home – with care as he tired to return to his table quickly.

Tired, key word: tried.

He wasn’t sure if it was his lack of care of his surroundings because he did not want Freminet to start screeching in a public setting again, or if he was being careless once more. Lyney’s hand had tapped (more as in knocked) completely against your arm as he passed by,

Your gasp was so sharp that it hurts his own lungs, backing up instinctively as most if not all of his drink tumbled down to the floor. The chatter within the coffeehouse fell into murmurs as he could feel stares pierce into his back.

“I am, so sorry.” Lyney shoved the rest of his order onto a nearby table, swiping up the napkins which resided on it and practically thrusting them in your face. That coat looked expensive, too, good god he hoped you weren’t pompous.

With a steaming amount of embarrassment, Lyney was offered a replacement as another worker took care of his mess upon the floor. He had said sorry to your face too many times to keep track of, you simply waved them off.

You were mad about the coat, though. Very, in fact. He had never seen someone grieve a physical piece of clothing but today was a first for everything apparently.

“Here”, he held out ‘payment’ for the coat, stating that you could use it to either try to replace it or clean it if you wished. You snorted, stating that your drink – which you also had spilled, however you didn’t dump its contents on his person – was more expensive than your off-brand coat. A simple purchase that you bought for its looks.

“Don’t think that you’re off the hook. You still owe me a drink.” You pushed away his money-filled hand, slinging your now dried coat over your arm, “Next week?”

He couldn’t help me laugh. Lyney assured you that it was a promise.

WRONG PAINTS? ♪ a silver-haired stranger is good at art talk

“I still think oil paints would look better on it.”

“You are out of your mind.”

Phainon let out a breathy chuckle, adjusting the strap of his bag upon his shoulder. His eyes never left the painting hanging center of the wall within the art museum. A new piece made by someone anonymous, it was titled ‘Feeling of View’. Whomever painted it should’ve considered ‘Feeling of An Eyesore’ instead.

“Think about it”, he looked at you briefly from the corner of his eye, “Watercolor would give it more of an eye feeling. More unfocused yet distinct enough to tell what was painted. Oil just seems like you’re painting a…a photo.”

Phainon pursed his lips, considering your words (that weren’t going to change his own opinion, much to your dismay). “Hey, don’t throw off people with photo-like eyesight.”

“What?”

“What.”

He felt your shoes knock into the side of his converse with abundant force, “I’m serious. When you think of eyesight, you think of focus, do you not? You’re not going to see everything in complete focus all at once unless your field of view is like, beyond human.” You made a good point. “That’s a horrible point.”

With a huff of lighthearted annoyance you shrugged offhandedly, “Is it going to be like this every time we meet each other in this exhibit?”

“Do you want us to keep meeting in this exhibit?”

You blinked, clearly not expecting a questioning quip from him that fast. It’s not like it was the most awkward thing said between the two of you, the painting’s paint choice had been in discussion for at least twenty minutes by now.

And it would not top how he mixed up acrylics with oils while trying to start conversation in an art museum.

“If you want.”

Phainon couldn’t help but smile, beaming as he rocked on his heels. You already knew his answer, still, he couldn’t help but nod eagerly in return, “It’s a date.”

#writings.#how i feel after using my slim korean vocab 👩🏽‍🏫👩🏽‍🏫👩🏽‍🏫#lyney and sunday hype was insane i can rmbr their releases so vividly #i know little abt paints its been so long since ive painted so 🏌🏽‍♀️#lyneys part is a bit erm so sorry about that #hsr x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #lyney x reader #phainon x reader #hsr drabbles #genshin drabbles #hsr fluff #genshin fluff

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starcharmed · 3 months ago

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ꨄ︎ .ᐟ.ᐟ - when i'm with you

mourning someone whom is still alive ; 0.5k+

written pre-3.2, word rot, #ripfineshty

⟡ - thank you @rainswept for being as sane as me about anaxa & fueling this fic ily lots

You couldn’t rest next to him. Not as within the sense you didn’t want to, but because he didn’t breathe. For minutes — an hour or so if you somehow managed to get the man to relax his soul for that long — his chest wouldn’t move. His shoulders wouldn’t softly rise nor fall, his face nearly blank in that unchanging expression you’d grown to love.

He wasn’t dead anymore. The reminder jabbing at the back of your head, the needle-like pain keeping you awake from the dream state of an envisionment of his corpse instead of his person besides yourself. You wondered if he could sense the discomfort that ran within your veins, if he could take one glance at your person and read every little motion with extreme accuracy.

The evening drawn quiet as the leaves rained from the sky, falling from tree branches long dead; the support that held back the lincoln green leaves drifting down and down and down, making their own traces within the sky. If you were to follow one of them with your eyes at an angle, you could count how many stars the tip of the leaf touched on its way to rest on the ground. Tired from its smooth journey and waiting to be swept up by the wind, going to find a new place to stay idle for a while.

You could hear Anaxa’s footsteps approaching height in sound from your left, not bothering to turn around nor give him a glance. He didn’t seem to want one as he sat down wordlessly beside you, huffing out air that couldn’t deliver its proper function within his body.

“If I’ve done some thing to displease you, it would be best to let me know.”

“I think you know.” The heel of your shoe bounced up and down, a crunch of a leaf splitting through the air as it echoed distantly, “What’s bothering me, that is.”

Another blow of air. “Are you not going to converse with me anymore?”

“I shouldn’t even be able to.” A response delivered quickly, as if in expectation of the question beforehand.

Nature seemed to animatedly try and set the mood, the wind cutting through chillingly. Anaxa turned his head to you circumspectly, his lips sporting a rare frown. No comment escaped through his lips, no word pronounced with reliance towards the state of Anaxa’s body. His eye flickered away from you to a scene behind yourself, before he focused on you again.

“I was half expecting you to put flowers over my body when I was slumbering last night.” There it is.

The acknowledgment of his condition, the succinct stab at making you understand that he knew what happened to him mattered. That’s all you desired to hear from him, just one simple input regarding what had transpired less than a week ago.

Don’t give me any ideas. The mental image of Anaxa’s body with flowers and their petals scattered about it would’ve made your heart warm, now it only made it sink lower into the never-ending pit of your stomach.

“I loved you.” Maybe you shouldn’t have changed the tense. Maybe you shouldn’t have used past as if he weren’t sitting beside you. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything, just let the night come in silence to fit its theme.

“I love you.” And you swore a tear ran down your check.

#srb.#anaxa x reader #hsr x reader

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starcharmed · 4 months ago

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SOAKED CONFESSIONS ✦ the hero who offers to be your personal bath attendant after a mission gone wrong, his gentle touches hinting something that you seem to misunderstand as camaraderie, so he has to show you what he truly feels about you.

phainon x gn!reader. sensual (?) and fluff content. bathing together and implicit mentions of nudity (sfw) physical touching, unspoken confessions. unlabeled relationship. phainon being really affectionate and bold. self-indulgent at its finest, I miss him. [2.0k wc]

“I was expecting to be scolded for this but a two hour lecture was something I did not quite anticipate from Tribbie upon our return.”

Bathed in the golden glow within the private changing rooms, your heavy sigh echoes at the vestiges of his, a tone that’s borderline chastising. “And who do you think is responsible for this farce?”

At your chastise, Phainon could do nothing but chuckle heartily.

“I’ve already said sorry numerous times as we rode back to Okhema.” He leans close to your face, head tilted. “Do you want another hundred apologies? I don’t mind reciting those at your behest—”

“Save it, Phainon.” You proceed to pinch his cheek as you brush past him “You? listening to me? If you’d done that a few hours ago instead of dallying and straying from our path, we wouldn’t have stumbled across those titankins. Kephale above, the goods and dromas were unharmed but we were delayed a few hours, got our clothes dirty and were punished the moment we arrived. I'm tired and I would prefer not to be at the end of your jokes right now.”

Silence spills in between the two of you, the gravity of your sobered words made Phainon realize you truly were upset at him this time around.

There was a part of you that felt guilty for shutting him down, it was an unintentional accident—but you truly were tired and had no energy left in you to go back and forth with him. Besides the growing silence, only the rustle of you discarding your mud-caked clothes could be heard. Maybe you’re too petulant for the events that have happened, looking down at your dirtied fabrics and struggling to untie the ribbon of your uniform that you are unaware of his footsteps closing in on you, his chin finds itself hooked on your shoulder and his arms come winding from behind—helping you untie the lace that was now the ire of your frustrations with perfect ease.

Maybe it truly was Phainon’s charms, his mannerisms or his innate ability to calm you like a balm—but when the lace finally falls loose on the marble floor, you draw out a thickened breath, though you don’t utter a thanks like how you’d usually be.

This concerns him, your lack of reaction.

“So you are truly mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad—“

“You sound like it.” stated Phainon, his fingers glide slowly, unbuttoning your own fabrics. “Mad and—look at you, you are flushed with fury.”

Your gloves fall to the ground next. “I’m simply peeved.”

“Peeved or mad, those are still the same things, no?” His tone dips in honeyed sincerity. “I’m sorry for what happened. I should’ve listened to you, like you said.”

“No, I—” your anger vanished at the taste of his tone. You finally turn to face him fully, brows in a furrow “I'm just exhausted after the long journey back. It was not my intention to take it out on you, I should be the one apologising for my lack of manners.”

A belly-full of silence comes after your apology. “Then, let me help you? It's the least I could do.”

“Help with what exactly?”

The oceans of Phainon’s eyes are muddled in quiet mirth, he brushes his thumb beneath your eyes, “Today, think of me as your personal bath servant. Any needs or wants—aches to remedy, any muscles to massage, I will tend to them all.”

You’ve stiffened at such a frank declaration. Does Phainon even realize what he’s talking about?

“I—“ you start but are left stumbling. “Are you certain, lord? Truly that’s not…”

The blues of his eyes crinkle, his hands wandering down your neck, crawling up your arms to remove the fastened bracers on your wrists. “I insist.” His gaze flickers up to your own. “Unless you don’t want to..”

You could do nothing but exhale, you cannot find it in you to decline such an offer—or ever dare decline the man before you without feeling like you’d just kicked a pup on the street.

“You should do it too.”

Phainon’s fingers freeze at your statement, he stiffens even more when your hands reach out to tug the belt that secured his spaulders. “Remove your uniform, you’re just as filthy as me and I wouldn’t want to be the only one to enjoy the baths at this hour.”

The atmosphere is quiet and gentle. Phainon’s blue eyes remain still as he watches you hook a finger on his choker, ridding the material as his throat, strong collar bones and tattoo is bared to you.

You were too busy trying to unclasp every piece of armor to notice how he swallowed thickly at your close proximity and tender fingers—how his twinkled blue eyes observe you from beneath dark lashes, a splotch of heat furnacing the apple of his cheeks.

Only until you hear a rumble of a chuckle do your eyes flicker up, and Phainon was seen smiling at you.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He laughs heartily. “It just amuses me how one can catch your undeniable attention. Truly it’s a miracle that someone like me can do that sometimes.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” His teasing had once again made your cheeks surflux with heat. When the last heavy armor slips from his body, you step away and turn.

“Get changed into the bathrobes and get the baskets of oils, I’ll check the temperature of our bath.”

At the short time Phainon wasn’t around, you tried to gather your bearings and tame the unwanted crave. You swallow down the fluttering of your heart, flex your fingers from its jitters during the fleeting moments of touching him—it’s a miserable sort of yearning, really. You try to remind yourself that he doesn’t feel the same as you did, but how can you recite those words when the Deliverer himself does not make it convincing for the two of you?

The golden salts of lukewarm water rippled at the company of both your bodies and almost immediately, as soon as the two of you soak into Phagousa’s blessings—Phainon’s hands inches at the silken fabrics of your bathrobe, tugging your attention to him.

For all the time knowing him, you weren’t really particular with his hands. But every moment you spend time with the alluring yet charming Chrysos heir, his hands—despite its roughened calluses—are as gentle as a psalm, deliberate even.

“Turn around.” He’d instruct you so and yet his raspy voice sounded so breathless, so tight with wanting anticipation. You’d follow through without so much as a breath. Phainon cupped a handful of water and let it soak through your roots, lithe fingers that've been honeyed with bath oils comb through your wet tendrils and you simply hum at the gesture.

He touches you like a golden cradle, firm yet tender as he explores for any knots on your sinews, pushing his fingers through your nude muscles to smoothen back the stress and exhaustion.

“You’re surprisingly good at this, keep going.” You’d muse after a few unsound minutes.

He’d respond with that endearing laugh of his. “I’m touched by your compliment. Have I been forgiven?”

To his question, you sober. “About that, I’ve been wondering for a while..”

Phainon awaits for you to complete your thought, patient fingers lifting up to stroke your hair.

“During our mission, it’s not like you to be so distracted.” You start softly. “Are you okay?”

When you feel his fingers pause, you know that your fruitless question held some sort of truth. Phainon completely retracts from you, the mild burn of his touch leaving with him and the water sloshes, ripple then still.

”Phainon?” You turn to face him and for a split second, you see a spill of shadow fall over his eyes.

“Phainon,” Your voice softens like wheat. “Hey.” You lift to palm his wet cheek, that brings him out of his stupor and his darkened eyes return back to its pale, warm color.

“Hm?”

You frown. “I asked if you are well, lord Phainon.”

His casual smile painted the soft textures of his expression. “What, are you concerned about my well-being?”

Silence follows his half-hearted claim, it's a type of silence that could only mean nothing but agreement to his question. It only proves his conjecture when he sees the look on your face.

Phainon held your cheeks so delicately, softly bumping his wet forehead with yours.

“What gave it away?” He asked, from how close he was, you could smell his faint scent of remnant wood and rum, like he’s been baked under the sunlight for hours.

You drink in a shaky inhale, dropping your gaze at the murky ripple of water beneath you—looking anywhere but him.

“You are terrible with facial expressions.”

You can feel his smile. “Mydeimos told me the same thing.”

“The troubles that you have, it’s about your past, isn’t it?”

“When has anyone not been troubled by their past?” Phainon answers you. “Hey, look at me please?”

You feel his hand leaving your cheek, he tips your chin up and you lock eyes. You dare try to dissect his expression, watching the way droplets fall from his long lashes, down the sharp contours of his face then hang on his chin before joining the bottomless water of your warm bath.

“I just had a nightmare about it and I take full responsibility for letting it get in the way of our mission, it caused us quite the mess and the punishment.”

“Oh, so this is why you offered to what, massage me?”

Phainon seems to wince at your indication. “Well, you’re not wrong but—”

You sigh. “Again, you don’t have to apologize to me for that or even go through all of this to make it up to me, Lord Phainon.”

You must’ve misunderstood something. Phainon’s brows furrow at your statement, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Wait a second, are you dismissing my efforts of…all of this simply because you think I felt sorry for what happened about the mission?”

“Is this…not why you volunteered to partake in all my needs? to act like some Marmoreal Palace chaperone?”

“Kephale, no!”

If there is one thing you try not to do, it is to jump to conjectures. With the way Phainon reacted vehemently at your claim, you cannot help but feel utterly flustered about it.

A chuckle slips down between his teeth, running his fingers through his wet bangs, the tones of his denuded muscles tauten. “Have you…not paid any attention? To me? Or even felt the way I’ve been touching you till now?”

He spoke as if it was obvious.

Though you had a guess, truly you did. Each longing cradle, each push of finger on your skin, each caress that lasts longer than your breaths— of course you’d notice something, you’d be a fool not to. Your skin crawled with the burn of him, but you thought you were being delusional.

How could you even begin to think that was what he meant?

You spin away from him quickly, you feel a splotch of heat biting the tip of your ears, then down your cheeks and neck. “I…well you weren’t being chaste about it, I’ll give you that.”

And now that you had your back to him, you are now particular to his presence that seem to singe the patterns of your vertebrae. The waters beneath you ripple softly as he moves closer, his naked chest pressing against your spine, his lips fluttering on the back of your neck, you can feel his breath of a confession smearing your skin.

“Then, do you wish for me to show you?” Phainon speaks so low, running his arms down the curves of your body as he presses another firm kiss on your neck. Then, he slowly turns you—backing you against the bath’s edge, you gaze up at his raw and beguiling eyes, the color of ocean waves untamed.

He cradles your cheeks catching your undeniable attention and allowing you to sink and drown in those eyes of his,

“I’ll show you just how serious I am, when it comes to you.”

#rbs.#fics w/ 1k to me #i can feel the intimacy with every line i read #the ending is so fun i luv fics w/ openly suggestive (not even in a sexual sense) endings #rlyyy helps creativity when imagining different story paths #“but you thought you were being delusional” RETWEET.#“You must’ve misunderstood something. Phainon’s brows furrow at your statement #a frown tugging at the corners of his lips”.#is my fav part by far #ughhh this is so nice def gonna reread it

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starcharmed · 4 months ago

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ꨄ︎ .ᐟ.ᐟ - when i'm with you

mourning someone whom is still alive ; 0.5k+

written pre-3.2, word rot, #ripfineshty

⟡ - thank you @rainswept for being as sane as me about anaxa & fueling this fic ily lots

“If I’ve done some thing to displease you, it would be best to let me know.”

“I think you know.” The heel of your shoe bounced up and down, a crunch of a leaf splitting through the air as it echoed distantly, “What’s bothering me, that is.”

Another blow of air. “Are you not going to converse with me anymore?”

“I shouldn’t even be able to.” A response delivered quickly, as if in expectation of the question beforehand.

“I was half expecting you to put flowers over my body when I was slumbering last night.” There it is.

“I love you.” And you swore a tear ran down your check.

#writings.#anaxa x reader #anaxa x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr angst

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