hi, im v! 28 year old non-binary hsr & genshin fic writer currently hyperfixated on sunday, aventurine, stellaron hunters & chilumi. audhd personified. ao3: idolelysia
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“I’m having his baby! No I’m not, but you should see your faces!”
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IVE BEEN GONE SO LONG IM SORRY
im back with ttpd on repeat and an addition to my hsr hyperfixations: AVENTURINE SUNDAY AND ROBIN
i have so much cooking in my brain rn
i've got a robin centric au with lots of big brother sunday and his silly boyfriend kakavasha
i have a toxic yaoi sunturine inspired by saltburn
and also i've been working a lot on two of my original projects so im a busy bee <3
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From the bottom of my heart I hope 2024 is a better mental health year for everyone
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You who once went by.
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I FINALLY GOT KAFKA
STELLARON HUNTER COLLECTION COMPLETE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
saving for her rerun now because i need her e6 and her lightcone haha
but yes silver wolf bladie and kafka all home... muahahah..also e6 sampo came in my kafka ten pull :D
but yeah bro she took me like... 170 pulls lmao
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hey guys real life has been kicking my butt lately!! plus fontaine has been out so writing... hehe *shuffles feet nervously* i'll be back with some kafblade later BUT i did just want to drop this clorivia au idea... which i may be working on...


clears throat
easy / lucky / free a navia x clorinde royalty au Sometimes I worry that I've lost the plot My twitching muscles tease my flippant thoughts I never really dreamed of heaven much Until we put him in the ground.
Princess Navia has always known that she would rule over the Kingdom of Fontaine, trained by her beloved Father, King Callus di Rosa. However, when King Callus is killed during a diplomatic visit to a neighbouring nation, Navia is only 18 - eighteen and frightened.
With her coronation around the corner and a cloud of grief hanging over her head, star cadet Clorinde is appointed to her security detail. Though they’d grown up together, tensions run high between the former friends - Clorinde had been a part of Callus’ guard when he met his fate.
Can Navia trust Clorinde to guide her through the hardest months of her life, or will the truth behind her father’s death drive a further wedge between them?
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Hi guys! I have opened membership and commissions on my ko-fi to help with school expenses & other life stuff. Membership will grant you access to behind the scenes stuff, teases, resources, discounts, free commission vouchers and more - but even a one off donation if you like any of my work and want to tip me with a coffee would make me more than happy.
I also offer beta reading, peer review of fiction and creative writing, and piloting services on genshin and hsr.
Thank you to everyone who has been supporting me here and on ao3, and I'll get back to work now! <3
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hi darlings!
promise im not ignoring your requests, just a teeny bit busy with working on some wips and farming like hell on genshin and star rail
still no sign of kafka :(
but i got kokomi (hard pity fifteen minutes before her banner ended lmao) and when fontaine update came out i did a ceremonial pull on weapon banner and i got lyneys bow!! i was at 3 pity havent pulled since i got freedom sworn lmao so safe to say genshin loves me
i have some rl chores to do and then im gonna nap to make up for my all nighter and eat lots of snacks and explore fontaine hehe
ill get some writing done tonight <3
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LAVENDER HAZE Taylor Swift — The Eras Tour, Kansas City, MO
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so i lost my kafka 50/50 who wants to commission me in exchange for jades ! /hj
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anonymous asked: Can you… write Blade getting hor knee for Kafka when he’s Mara-struck?
i absolutely can <3
there is no obligation to send any tips but if you feel like passing on a good deed, my kofi is https://ko-fi.com/idolelysia
cw: nsfw
"Bladie," Kafka's eyes are wide, and she's trying her best not to let on that she's enjoying this. "Your strength surprises me more every day."
He's different. Usually, she can gain control over him with just the slightest command, her spirit whisper only giving him the push over the edge that he needs before he comes back to himself, but this... Blade is resisting that pull. And he's taking that energy out on Kafka, and she sure as hell isn't going to strain herself to put a stop to it. It's not her fault that she enjoyed the feeling of the rough, scarred hands that once belonged to a uniquely talented crafter of weapons on her shoulders. Blade shoving her against the wall and pinning her there, his eyes darkening, a smirk spreading across his face as he pressed his crotch against Kafka's thigh and heard her gasp at the feeling of his cock, hard, throbbing - he's hungry. He needs her.
"Do. Your. Worst."
She punctuates each word with a pause, her lips parted, running her tongue along them and watching as Blade's gaze followed it. "Submit to me, Kafka," he says.
It's a risk. But she has enough faith in her abilities to know she'll be able to regain control over him and soothe the ill effects of the mara once they're done - she's just cocky enough to not feel fear.
"Please, Bladie," she blinks, shrugging her shoulders so that he can release his grip just long enough for her to let her coat fall to the ground. "Make me yours."
A switch is flipped; Blade grabs her and buries his face into her neck, sucking and biting, intent on leaving his mark, on finding out how loud he could make her scream. It's new for Kafka, to not be in control, but she wants this - so, in a way, she still is. She leans her head back and gives him what he needs, the more she yelps and moans his name and digs her nails into his back; the harder he goes in on her.
His hands trail to her button-down shirt, and he pulls away from her now purple and red neck to watch as he rips it open, his strength popping each plastic fastener and sending them flying. Blade can feel himself begin to salivate, like an animal hunting its prey, at the sight of Kafka's chest, her tits pushed up by a translucent maroon bra. He cups them through the fabric first, and Kafka looks down, too, burning the image of his gorgeous hands on her into her mind.
Impatient as she is, Kafka then reaches behind her to unclasp the bra, and while she does, Blade follows the curve of her waist to her hips and her ass, where he can help her rid of her shorts.
"There's still a barrier," Kafka points out, once she's standing in front of him in nothing but fishnet tights.
"Not really," his voice is deep and hoarse, a darker tone to it than usual. "They're pretty easy...,"
His fingers drag down to her thick thighs. "...to...,"
They hook into the web of thread between them, and Kafka feels a shiver down her spine.
"... adjust," Blade spits the last word, which accompany another rip - Kafka spends a hell of a lot of money on her clothes, but she doesn't give a shit today - creating a perfectly positioned gap in coverage, just in the crotch of the tights.
"Beg me," he's taking enjoyment in it, Kafka moans his name as he grabs at her cunt, like it's a toy, something of his own to rough around. He then lifts his hand to his mouth, just to taste her slick that now coated his fingertips. "Come on, Kafka. Beg me."
"Please - please, Bladie," she allows the desperation to come through, her breath hitched, blinking at him like an innocent girl. "I need - I need you to f-fuck me...,"
He scoffs, then undoes his zipper, letting his pants fall to his ankles. Kafka doesn't waste time, she wraps her arms around his neck and allows him to hoist her up against the wall, holding her around the waist, her thighs spread and grinding against his cock, slowly bouncing up and down. "You want me inside you?" he whispers. "You gonna show me how loud you are for me? You fucking cock whore?"
"Please, pleaseeee," she moans. "I need... I need...,"
"If you need me to destroy your cunt, Kafka, then you're in luck."
He thrusts inside of her, and it feels different than all the other time's they've fucked, the times she's sat on his dick and spilled dirty words from her mouth while the pathetic, pretty little boy who looked at her like she was a goddess tried his hardest not to cum too quickly. This is an entirely different Blade. The Mara... it made him different. He's relentless, she can feel his thrusts all through the body, not just the familiar burning desire in her tummy to be filled up. Blade doesn't pause or take a breath, even as Kafka's eyes well with tears and her nails begin to draw little trickles of blood because of how hard she's clinging on to him, her body weak and limbs like jelly. He feels so big, her cunt tight. He kisses her while she screams and bites her bottom lip hard, until it swells and a metallic taste fills her mouth. "Bladie...,"
"You sure you can fucking take me? Or do you want me to pull out and let you fall to the ground, discard you like a piece of trash who doesn't even deserve the chance to do so?"
Kafka can feel her cheeks burning, her entire body is ablaze, she clings on tighter - "I can take you, I can, I can....,"
They cum at the same time; he spills his load into her as the pressure against Kafka's clit sends her over the edge, she's dizzy and so, so messy down there, Blade saying her name, weaker and softer each time, draining his balls with each final thrust. Kafka can feel her own cum as well as his leaking out while Blade slowly pulls out.
"Good boy," she soothes him, snapping back to reality and regaining control with her spirit whisper before the Mara can hurt him. "Thank you, Bladie."
He slumps to the ground, and Kafka follows suit. "It's okay, sweetie. You made me feel so good. We can rest here, if you need."
Blade is exhausted; she feels almost bad. But his hand reaches out for hers and their fingers intertwine; they lie down together on the concrete floor and he cuddles up on her chest without ever letting go. Maybe they both needed that. Maybe he was finally figuring out what she already knew: that he loved her, that he was weak for her and only her.
#kafblade#blafka#hsr fanfic#blade smut#kafka x blade#kafblade fanfic#hsr smut#kafblade smut#*#mara.txt
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ive never related to anything more - oh my god this post is like looking at my own brain. the part where the op talks about "was there a secret club over one summer-" sent chills down my spine because thats a paranoia and fear and belief ive held since i was a child and ive only vocalised it to one person in my life. youre telling me im not alone im not insane this is a thought that has occurred to others on the spectrum? this lonely feeling that makes me think im on the outside of society looking in is... wrong, because im not alone out here?
because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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Can you… write Blade getting hor knee for Kafka when he’s Mara-struck 👀? Like normally it doesn’t happen, but he gets afflicted with some sort of hex and he becomes incredibly animalistic and greedy, and w and urgent desire to breed -> exasperated by the Mara
GOD yes.... what a vision...
clears throat
nsfw under cut
"Bladie," Kafka's eyes are wide, and she's trying her best not to let on that she's enjoying this. "Your strength surprises me more every day."
He's different. Usually, she can gain control over him with just the slightest command, her spirit whisper only giving him the push over the edge that he needs before he comes back to himself, but this... Blade is resisting that pull. And he's taking that energy out on Kafka, and she sure as hell isn't going to strain herself to put a stop to it. It's not her fault that she enjoyed the feeling of the rough, scarred hands that once belonged to a uniquely talented crafter of weapons on her shoulders. Blade shoving her against the wall and pinning her there, his eyes darkening, a smirk spreading across his face as he pressed his crotch against Kafka's thigh and heard her gasp at the feeling of his cock, hard, throbbing - he's hungry. He needs her.
"Do. Your. Worst."
She punctuates each word with a pause, her lips parted, running her tongue along them and watching as Blade's gaze followed it. "Submit to me, Kafka," he says.
It's a risk. But she has enough faith in her abilities to know she'll be able to regain control over him and soothe the ill effects of the mara once they're done - she's just cocky enough to not feel fear.
"Please, Bladie," she blinks, shrugging her shoulders so that he can release his grip just long enough for her to let her coat fall to the ground. "Make me yours."
A switch is flipped; Blade grabs her and buries his face into her neck, sucking and biting, intent on leaving his mark, on finding out how loud he could make her scream. It's new for Kafka, to not be in control, but she wants this - so, in a way, she still is. She leans her head back and gives him what he needs, the more she yelps and moans his name and digs her nails into his back; the harder he goes in on her.
His hands trail to her button-down shirt, and he pulls away from her now purple and red neck to watch as he rips it open, his strength popping each plastic fastener and sending them flying. Blade can feel himself begin to salivate, like an animal hunting its prey, at the sight of Kafka's chest, her tits pushed up by a translucent maroon bra. He cups them through the fabric first, and Kafka looks down, too, burning the image of his gorgeous hands on her into her mind.
Impatient as she is, Kafka then reaches behind her to unclasp the bra, and while she does, Blade follows the curve of her waist to her hips and her ass, where he can help her rid of her shorts.
"There's still a barrier," Kafka points out, once she's standing in front of him in nothing but fishnet tights.
"Not really," his voice is deep and hoarse, a darker tone to it than usual. "They're pretty easy...,"
His fingers drag down to her thick thighs. "...to...,"
They hook into the web of thread between them, and Kafka feels a shiver down her spine.
"... adjust," Blade spits the last word, which accompany another rip - Kafka spends a hell of a lot of money on her clothes, but she doesn't give a shit today - creating a perfectly positioned gap in coverage, just in the crotch of the tights.
"Beg me," he's taking enjoyment in it, Kafka moans his name as he grabs at her cunt, like it's a toy, something of his own to rough around. He then lifts his hand to his mouth, just to taste her slick that now coated his fingertips. "Come on, Kafka. Beg me."
"Please - please, Bladie," she allows the desperation to come through, her breath hitched, blinking at him like an innocent girl. "I need - I need you to f-fuck me...,"
He scoffs, then undoes his zipper, letting his pants fall to his ankles. Kafka doesn't waste time, she wraps her arms around his neck and allows him to hoist her up against the wall, holding her around the waist, her thighs spread and grinding against his cock, slowly bouncing up and down. "You want me inside you?" he whispers. "You gonna show me how loud you are for me? You fucking cock whore?"
"Please, pleaseeee," she moans. "I need... I need...,"
"If you need me to destroy your cunt, Kafka, then you're in luck."
He thrusts inside of her, and it feels different than all the other time's they've fucked, the times she's sat on his dick and spilled dirty words from her mouth while the pathetic, pretty little boy who looked at her like she was a goddess tried his hardest not to cum too quickly. This is an entirely different Blade. The Mara... it made him different. He's relentless, she can feel his thrusts all through the body, not just the familiar burning desire in her tummy to be filled up. Blade doesn't pause or take a breath, even as Kafka's eyes well with tears and her nails begin to draw little trickles of blood because of how hard she's clinging on to him, her body weak and limbs like jelly. He feels so big, her cunt tight. He kisses her while she screams and bites her bottom lip hard, until it swells and a metallic taste fills her mouth. "Bladie...,"
"You sure you can fucking take me? Or do you want me to pull out and let you fall to the ground, discard you like a piece of trash who doesn't even deserve the chance to do so?"
Kafka can feel her cheeks burning, her entire body is ablaze, she clings on tighter - "I can take you, I can, I can....,"
They cum at the same time; he spills his load into her as the pressure against Kafka's clit sends her over the edge, she's dizzy and so, so messy down there, Blade saying her name, weaker and softer each time, draining his balls with each final thrust. Kafka can feel her own cum as well as his leaking out while Blade slowly pulls out.
"Good boy," she soothes him, snapping back to reality and regaining control with her spirit whisper before the Mara can hurt him. "Thank you, Bladie."
He slumps to the ground, and Kafka follows suit. "It's okay, sweetie. You made me feel so good. We can rest here, if you need."
Blade is exhausted; she feels almost bad. But his hand reaches out for hers and their fingers intertwine; they lie down together on the concrete floor and he cuddles up on her chest without ever letting go. Maybe they both needed that. Maybe he was finally figuring out what she already knew: that he loved her, that he was weak for her and only her.
#kafblade#hsr fanfic#kafka x blade#prompt fill#hsr smut#writing#mara.txt#*#blade smut#kafka smut#kafblade smut
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pink skies, red wine (new chapter alert!)
kafka is many things - a headstrong kid, a creative mind, a mess. commencing freshman year at harvard should be a fresh start for her, but history has a way of repeating itself.
a kafka/himeko slow burn college au
cw: there will be trigger warnings throughout but i would like to warn you that major themes do include abusive parents, homophobia, dark/suicidal thoughts and references to an eating disorder.
read wip on ao3 here
there is no obligation to send any tips but if you feel like passing on a good deed, my kofi is https://ko-fi.com/idolelysia
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