#star rail

[azullumi]

“of impermanence and devotion to your sacred withering bones” ; sunday

premise — he’ll take pieces out of his flesh to mold into your wounds, bandaging you with his skin; he never liked seeing you hurt.

tags — established relationship, religious themes and metaphors, soft and loving sunday (i advocate), mix of the lovely trio (the fluff, the slight angst, and the comfort), reassurance from him, gender-neutral reader, never proofread, 1.1k ; one-shot

note — my parents chose thought daughter so now i’m writing fanfics on a thursday afternoon.

he’ll love you like religion.

needlessly, tirelessly, with bruised knees and bleeding palms, with blood-shot eyes and clasped fingers, worshiping, devoting, yearning, calling to whoever will listen—to you who will listen. it suffocates him yet he’ll clench at his chest and utter your name even if there’s no voice in his being and he is left like a pathetic, whimpering dog that was made to be abandoned. he’ll dig his own grave with broken nails and wounded hands, a coffin of tender touches, and the earth will fill his lungs and he’ll hope for flowers to sprout from his mouth when he plants his confession into the dirt. can you hear him? do you hear him?

“please take care of yourself more.” sunday says as he reaches for the bottle of disinfectant, pouring enough of it over the cloth he was holding to drench it before gently dabbing the fabric on the area of your wound. it stings and you hissed, clenching the sheets beneath your fingers as you watch him work.

“i only fell and scraped my knee, i don’t think it’s anything that bad.” you say in defense to your clumsiness. sunday was all gentle and careful in cleaning and treating the wound on your knee as if you were a child and he was the nurse tending to your ‘big’ wound.

(a god does not bleed but you do.)

he sighs, “it could have been worse.” and dresses your wound with a gauze, the material pristine white as no blood taints the material.

“but it wasn’t.” you rebut quite quickly, your gaze firm at his yet he doesn’t meet yours. he is kneeled in front of you, an open kit by his side and a chair on his other—and he chooses to be on the cold ground, his clothing slightly wrinkled and its appearance similar to spilled water on the floor beneath him. he never dares let himself appear as indecent with his disordered clothes and unkempt appearance in the form of an unsymmetrical coat and creased pants but here he is, in all his glory and messiness, laid out like the map of a devotee’s heart before you.

(he’ll beg even for a moment of your gaze but his cowardice will hold his head down to the ground—he is never like this, he was never his own when you look at him.)

“what could have happened if i wasn’t there to immediately help you? you’re too careless.” he scolds yet there’s no hint of harshness in his voice, just gentle and sweet worry lacing into his tone. something lies, seemingly dormant, in the still air that embraces you and he finds himself waiting for something to happen.

“sunday, it’s just a small wound. you don’t have to worry, i’m fine.” you assure him, hand cupping the side of his cheek and brushing your thumb over his cheekbone—it’s soft and slow, you feel warm, he feels warm. he leans into your touch, your hand soothing the tension that lies in his bones and his expression softens. silence settles in the room as he basks in the gentle affection that is bestowed on him. he holds your hand he turns his head to kiss the palm of it; his eyes are close and his lips lingered on your skin, comforting, relishing, soft, you.

“i have a question but before that, can you look at me, please?”

“i am,” he whispers, his lips beginning to trace your palm down to your pulse, all the while he keeps his gaze away and shut, “and my love, you never have to beg or plead for anything.” you know he’ll give you everything.

(sometimes—always, he feels like he is undeserving of the divine grace of your attention, of your affection, of your adoration, and you feel like your love is just a meager offering, unable to fulfill him. can you see him each other?)

finally, he looks at you—golden eyes born from the sun meets yours. his halo is situated just right on his head, pierced wings behind his ears, and his hair reminds you of the sky above you that you once gazed into when you were a child playing in the fields, before you were deemed as his, and now your gaze is held on the ground right where he is kneeling down. stray strands of your hair fall over your eyes and the way the light kisses your skin makes you look delicate, ethereal.

“do i love you enough?” you ask. have you ever been enough? have you done enough? is your mere and bare existence enough for someone like him?

“since when have you not?” he answers, filled with gentle affection. his tone is akin of a devout preacher, reassuring like a verse from a scripture.

(sunday never thought of you as lacking, not with the broken and missing pieces of your skin, tainted and muddled by blood and dirt, left to rot in your wake like a sin unrepented.)

“you’re the wine that overflows my cup,” he says, each syllable of his words carrying the weight of his utter and suffocating devotion, “and i’ll continue to consume you even in death.” no grave will ever hold his body down.

you cup his cheeks with both of your hands, his lips leaving your skin yet the warmth of his kisses remains. “you’re too good with your words,” you say, a small smile drawing on your lips, “perhaps you’re only telling lies to please me.” 

“my dearest,” he murmurs, lightly grazing his hand against your ear as he pushes your hair aside, “i’ll lay down my life for you, but i will never deceive you.”

(an unyielding faith of a martyr, his commitment is steadfast and his love is a fervent prayer, uttered and spoken only by him. his thoughts are spilled on the carpet, his confession ringing and echoing back to him as he repents like a sinner for loving you too much.)

“i’m a burden.” you whisper, longing for the feeling of his lips on yours. “i’m afraid i’m too much or too little for you to have.”

“i’m okay with that,” it’s a litany of devotion, his words a sacred vow he’ll keep for eternity that will come, “i love you.”

forever become a burden, become human in a fragile and delicate way as if your heart is made to break, so he’ll get to hold you in his hands.

also tagging, the one and only @toorurs !! i am dedicating this to u because u LOVE last day of the week guy A LOT and i’m also too lazy to make another section but yeah this is for you my boo, hi beloved you’re the greatest of the greatest, you’re the sweetest of all (i feel like im singing a song wadahell) and i hope you know that you’re very very cool and very very funny and i’m not the type to laugh while texting but i always do it when talking to you. i try not to do a backflip when u like and reblog my posts (i cant even do a headstand dafuq) !! i hope you know that you’re not loser, maybe a hater, but definitely not a user and you have me as a friend always no matter what questionable and weird things you say 🙏 like okay alpha sigma you’re the boss. this feels like the dedication page on a book or the acknowledgment part in research where you say thank you to whoever you want like damn. i’ll do the remaining words for dedication on upcoming works so that you’re always reminded that you’re somewhat involved in my life even if you’re like 1826725276 fucking miles away

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

[121231212i]

Honkai: Star rail | Version 2.2

[freyzrc]

# 115 angy aventurine >:(

[masterstr0ke]

Hihi, i wanted to make a request (if it’s open) Your last aventurine and welt pieces were beautiful 🩷

Dr ratio hasn’t gotten the time to spend time with you lately and he works hard, but you are his supportive spouse so you bring him snacks and remind him to take breaks in between and kiss the cheek of his alabaster head as a treat (he has it on) before you do your own work. Now all he can think about is you for the rest of the day (perhaps he would have preferred it on his skin too)

If you don’t write for him that’s fine ^^

No need to rush, tyt! ☁️

YOU KNOW I’M SUCH A FOOL FOR YOU.

HUSBAND!RATIO x GN!READER

WARNINGS: annoyed Ratio, jealousy over an inanimate object (?), drowning in work. 2nd person POV (you/yours/yourself)

WORD COUNT: 494

AUTHOR NOTE: i know what you are👀

The day was slow at the Intelligentsia Guild, especially for the infamous Dr. Ratio.

Since the day began, all he has been doing is deal with insufferable morons with a worn-out shoe for a brain! Such imbeciles, Ratio believes time is precious, but unfortunately his students are dumb enough to waste it, even dumber to waste his time by asking how old he is or if he’s single or not.

Those fools don’t have to know that at-work Dr. Ratio is different than at-home Veritas, and can’t they figure out the question themselves by paying the slightest bit of attention to the silver band on his left hand’s ring finger? His attitude should’ve intimidated them enough for their minds to not go beyond the assumption that all he does at home is shower, eat work and sleep.. right? At least, that’s what he thinks.

However, he hasn’t been paying enough attention to the beautiful person sharing the other ring with him; the one he said his vows to. All he does when he goes back home is shower, eat, work and sleep. That’s it. He doesn’t even have time to glance your way, and that angers him.

He put on his alabastor head; His expression was too sour to welcome anyone who dares enter his office besides higher-ups. And just as he was about to start working in peace, a knock erupted at his office’s door, great. Ratio grumbled quietly. “Come in.” He spoke in an authoritative tone, expecting this to be a higher-up or an idiot student.

You open the door, a box in your hand, and a wide smile that rivals the sun in its shiny glory. “Veritas!” You call out as a greeting, before rushing to his desk. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll make this quick. You forgot your lunch at my office,” Oh, so that’s where his lunch went. You also worked at the Intelligentsia Guild, also being a teacher of high regard. Opposites attract, they say. All of your students love you, and you’re friends with everyone; An obvious contrast from your husband. You place the lunchbox on his desk with your left hand, the band on your ring finger glistening in the sunlight, the source being the window behind Veritas’ chair.

You then lean in and kiss the cheek of the alabastor head, then the lips. It wasn’t enough, since the head lacked the warmth of skin, but you were content. You give him a smile before you head out the door, just like that.

Ratio slowly took off the alabastor head, looking at it in disgust as if it owes him something. It does, it took away his lover’s kisses. As childish as it sounds, he’s been craving a kiss for a while. He supposes he has to wait until he goes back home, maybe he’ll get all the kisses he wants. In exchange of his work being put aside, even for a little while.

[shampookoski]

BOOTHILL in VERSION 2.2 TRAILER - TIME TO WAKE UP | HONKAI: STAR RAIL

[animepopheart]

★ 【xUDe】 「 Happy 1st Anniversary!!~~📷 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me! insta • x • bsky

[annqer]

Knowledge is the measure of all things. It reveals truth... and falsehood.

[oddslee]

Mr Sampo Wormski because I care him

[venelona]

me, pre-theme park: god Aventurine is such a loser I love him

and then the plot happened

[chaldeanu]

[121231212i]

Honkai: Star rail | Boothill's In-battle Poses

[almonds-nsfw-world]

BOOTHILL

[freyzrc]

# 114 Struggling to draw today because I swapped tablets. :' D

[urlocalhumannn]

aventurine

came home + weapon so this js my reward🔥

[skeptical-saniwa]

Hm… 100 followers… 100 kisses for Aventurine?

[animepopheart]

★ 【Rafa】 「 流萤小裙子～ 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me! insta • x • bsky