How Would HSR characters react to finding out their teenage child reads BL/GL?
Characters: Cyrene, Aventurine, Sparxie, & Yao Guang (Platonic)
Words: 763
Warnings: N/A
A/N: You’re free to decide if [Reader] is biologically related to the character or if they’re adopted. And this might be OOC, so I apologize for it.
I didn’t know what characters to write for, so I just spun a wheel and chose the first five characters I got. Well… four characters. The wheel did pick Acheron, but I had no idea what to write for her, so I just didn’t include her.
Cyrene would… I feel like she’d be unfamiliar with it despite people in the HSR fandom joking about her writing down Myphai/Phaidei smut since she has things to worry about than online terms and fan-fiction.
When she sees you reading a BL/GL book, she’d be surprised. She won’t be opposed to it. Rather, she’d be intrigued. She’ll ask what you’re reading and depending on your reaction, she’ll give you time to gather your cool before explaining it.
Despite the terms being explained, I don’t believe she’ll read it herself…? Maybe—depends on [Reader]’s reaction (if you want her to read a sample or not). But if she does have free time, she’ll go online to take a look.
When she does figure out, she’d attempt to read some books herself, even if it means she’d have to endure reading about people having intercourse. Why? Simply because she wants you to feel comfortable around her, enough to know that you don’t need to hide things from her.
I feel like when Aventurine finds you reading BL/GL, it would be by accident. He comes by your room to check on you—whether to check if you’re doing your homework or something else—it would be an accident.
And because it was an accident, you’d be very embarrassed; you’d be telling him to get out of your room and stuff.
He’d be familiar with the terms—at least more than Cyrene—enough to know what they mean. The content, though? I doubt he’d know that it’s romantic and/or sexual.
Which is why he’ll try to joke about it to you when you come down from the embarrassment you were feeling. But that only serves to make your embarrassment come back.
You will have to explain to him the actual meaning behind what he thinks is “platonic.” I think it’ll be fun though, to see his ever-present cockiness disappear when he figures out that his own child is reading about people having sex. Just imagine the shock.
Sparxie would very much be familiar with the terms and likes since she herself has fanfiction of her female fans being with her. As well as having been sent fan works of similar content.
What can you say about the daily life of a famous streamer? Especially Sparxie? Fans become crazy just hearing her name out loud.
When she finds out that you read BL/GL content, she’d be very amused. She’ll joke about it to you and everything. Though when she does notice that this just makes you embarrassed, she stops.
She might be a Masked Fool, but she’s not heartless enough to purposely ignore the fact that her own child feels uncomfortable. So, she tones it down. She’ll let you be by yourself for a while to give you time to regain your composure. And once you’re alright, she’ll talk about it to you. It’s uncharacteristic of her, yeah, but a ‘mother’ has got to do what she’s got to do to make sure her child is fine.
Once everything is settled and you feel comfortable around her, she’ll start gossiping about it with you. Obviously not about the fan-fictions her fans have made about her (Why would she have you endure the crazy things fans have written about her being with her fans?).
(I really don’t know what to write here, so it might be a little short)
Yao Guang has been aware of your fixation with reading GL/BL, why wouldn’t she? You’re her child; she has to be aware of what you do and where you are at all times.
Even though you’re a teenager and close to adulthood, the Xianzhou Yuque is a dangerous place, you know. Her child has to be safe at all times.
It’ll be you who finds out that she knows that you read BL/GL. So it’s your turn to be shocked and confused. You wouldn’t even feel embarrassed at this point.
You’ll confront her and ask her how she knows. She won’t say anything at all, just be all mysterious about it. Saying riddles and how she needs to know everything about at all times.
Kinda creepy, right? But she means well.
And it’ll obviously annoy you. Like… she couldn’t have told you?? She basically invaded your privacy! A bit of a stretch to say that, but it makes sense to say it!
But it’ll sooner be overpowered by the simple fact that you don’t care—like at all.
She knows you read it, she’s not reprimanding you for reading it, so why would you worry?
A/N: This is more so focused more on him and his feelings than any actual romantic acts.
I had an ending in mind as I was writing this, but I could not write it down for the life of me, so I just scrapped it.
"He needed an assistant," they said. He couldn’t continue gambling so recklessly, they said. He was sufficient, but not in an ideal way.
But he’d like to disagree; he's not dead yet, which is a positive, and his gambles work out just fine. Sure, he gets an injury here and there from how primitive his opponents turn out when they lose, but he’s fine. He doesn’t need—
“And this is [Reader], your new assistant,” Jade introduces you to him. “Treat them well, will you? We wouldn’t want you to lose them, would we?”
He lets out a hum of mock contemplation as he looks at you, his new ‘assistant.’
“An assistant is unnecessary, don’t you think so, Madam Jade?”
Jade lets out a laugh as if what he said was a joke. She pats your back and gently nudges you to head towards him. “That would be true… But Diamond would say otherwise.”
When you finally move to stand in front of him, he waits patiently for you to greet him. If he can’t avoid this, might as well enjoy the time, right? Knowing how his past assistants have been, he wonders how long it’ll take for you to give up on him and get fired.
“U-uh…” You nervously look back at Jade like you’re hoping for her grace to save you, but all she does is nod at you so you can continue.
“I-it’s… a pleasure to meet you, Director Aventurine.” You take the time to give him a small bow. “I look forward to assisting you.”
Oh wow, that’s quite new for him. People have never bowed down to him. It’s always a hand on his body. Well… At least this isn’t uncomfortable, that’s a plus.
He motions for you to stand straight again, and you quickly do. “Then let’s hope you don’t mess up, right? I would hate for you to disappoint me.” He feigns a pout at his last sentence, acting like it’ll be a crime to do that.
In response, you quickly nod your head to reassure him that you don’t mess up. “There’s no need to worry about that, Director Aventurine. I’ll do my very best to be of use to you.”
“Let’s see about that…”
.・゜゜・・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･｡
So far, you’ve been doing a far better job than most: you’ve been there at his meetings, you’ve been at his every beck and call, and you’ve been an excellent assistant. A few mistakes have been made here and there, but it’s never been without an immediate apology from you.
He wouldn’t admit this, but he’s starting to like this arrangement: to have someone do whatever he asks… He likes that. No matter how difficult his tasks are or even how ridiculous they are, you still do them.
But this wouldn’t be him if he went without at least trying to get you to break your eagerness and quietness.
He’s a little cruel when it comes to it; that much he can admit, but he doesn’t particularly care enough to change how he does things. And even if you had a problem, you couldn’t really complain, could you? Compared to him, you were a nobody—a word against him would get you in trouble.
He can be as difficult as he wants, and all you can do is bear it.
.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
“Hmm…”
He looks at the multiple stacks of papers you put on his desk with a contemplative expression.
The organization is perfect. Everything is topic coordinated; there are no creases on any of the papers, it looks visually perfect, and there’s no misplacement.
If it were given to anyone else, you’d be praised, and the stacks would be taken. But he’s not ‘anyone else.’
“It lacks organization, try again.”
“… Pardon?”
Your expression changes to one of surprise when you hear his words. You shake your head a few times to check if your ears are working properly.
“It lacks organization. I’m not satisfied.”
Again, he says his sentence.
Don’t get him wrong—there’s nothing wrong here. But he’s not just going to say that; he’s going to make sure you end up tired with him, and then he’ll give you a new task immediately afterward.
For what, you may ask? You already know why.
“I… I’ll check to see if there are any problems, sir. My apologies for the inconvenience.”
Quietly, you take one stack of paper and move it to a table in the corner of his office.
Thankfully for you, he allowed you to have a corner to yourself so you don’t have to run around for every task he gives you. The constant noise of opening the door and closing it was slowly getting annoying, at least to him. So he just straight-up gave it to you.
“Thank you, my dear assistant~”
And just like that, he goes back to his work.
.・゜゜・・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･｡
Midnights in Pier Point have always been a dream to look at; Aventurine has always taken the time to admire the skyline when he was stuck in his office.
There were far too few lights that were emitted during this time of the night, so the stars and the sky were visible to the naked eye.
It was majestic, the kind that would take the air from your lungs just so you could focus on the present moment. And it has always worked. No matter how much you’re used to the sensation, the feeling, it always works.
Aventurine isn’t the only one to say this; he’s had his fellow Stonehearts admiring the skyline with him. He could be in a disagreement with any of them, and one look at the skyline would silence all available parties.
How could people like them, the very people who are so evil, admire the colors that stroke the sky? Even he wasn’t sure.
But one thing he was sure of…
He was exhausted at the moment. So, so exhausted.
His wrist hurt from writing so much; his voice hurt from the endless talking he had to do with clients and ‘partners’; his body hurt from the constant movement and endless travel he had to endure.
All he wants to do is close his eyes and sleep as much as possible, but considering that he’s at his office and not home… He can’t really do that. So all he can do is close his eyes and hope that it’ll automatically fix his problem, but that’s impossible.
Though it doesn’t hurt to hope for the impossible, does it?
*Clink*
A glass of… something is placed on his table.
‘What is it…’ He wonders to himself. He opens his eyes and glances at the object of his confusion.
Ah, it’s a glass of water.
He moves his gaze to look at the person who got the glass, and it turns out to be you. At that, he raises an eyebrow in confusion.
"Why did you bring this now?" he asks quietly, watching for your answer.
You look around the office like you’re expecting someone else to interrupt, but no one’s here. "Well, I noticed that you were tired.”
“I think that’s obvious, friend.”
“I know that, Director." You scrunch your eyebrows together at his teasing. It’s obvious that you didn’t appreciate the comment, “But just… Never mind, please drink some water to rejuvenate yourself.”
Rather than argue, he takes the glass, eyes lingering on the glass for a moment as if he’s waiting for a joke to come from you. But nothing does. So hesitantly, like he’s expecting the drink to have poison in it, he drinks up.
Weird, no one’s done something as simple as handing him a glass of water…
‘Hah, let’s see what else you’ll surprise me with.’
.・゜゜・・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･｡
Ever since that day, you’ve been doing more and more acts for him. Nice acts, to be specific, and it rattles him. But he’s not used to showing anyone that he can be surprised, which includes you.
Which means all your acts of kindness are accompanied by teasing comments. On some of his… worst days, it’s accompanied by nothing. No words, no comments, just silence. And thankfully, you understand the silence, so you leave him to be.
But one thing is unfortunate for him: his mind has begun to think about you. About your acts.
No, not in a romantic sense. He’d dread that if it ever happened. But in a way that is difficult to explain even to himself, something is itching at his chest every time you walk past.
Perhaps he’s sick; that’s a possibility. But he rarely gets sick thanks to his luck.
Ah-hah! Got it!
Has he contracted a rare disease? An unknown disease?
He’s checked that, and…
No. "You’re perfectly fine," said his doctor.
Uhh, what is this feeling supposed to be?
Anger?
No… He’s long since forgotten how to feel anger.
Hate?
That’s not possible. He hates the IPC; he hates Schneider, yet what he feels when with you isn’t similar to his hatred towards the corporation.
Eh, it can’t be that important if he doesn’t know about it. He’ll try his best to forget about it, but he has his doubts when it comes to that.
.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
He didn’t know why he did such a thing, but he bought you a bunch of gifts: jewelry, clothes, utensils for your house, etc.
He is Aventurine; after all, he wouldn’t be him if he weren’t over the top with what he does and gets.
He was, at first, expecting it to be easy. Just give the multitude of gifts to yourself and call on a day. But that was way too far off.
As he looks down at the multitude of things he has gotten for you, he can’t help but feel nervous for some reason.
Is it too much? Is it too little? Will you like them? Will you not like them? Do you even need them?
What if you got confused and asked him why you got all this? What excuse would be good enough for you?
He buys everyone expensive things; he doesn’t doubt that you won’t get greedy about it like everyone else. But… At the same time, it’s also just meaningless. Would you even appreciate it, knowing that other people have gotten the same things that he’s gotten you?
No…
He wants you to appreciate it. He wants to let you know that he appreciates what you do for him. The gifts are meaningful, they’re there to show his gratitude for you.
This is too hard—he’s getting way too nervous for such a simple and regular thing for him.
So instead…
He picks up his phone and calls the people he’s gotten every gift from.
He’s going to give back everything he has gotten.
You’re not greedy. You’re not like everyone else. You don’t need this much of anything.
GENDER: Femme
FANDOM: Honkai Star Rail
NOTE: SECOND CHAPTER LETS GO!! very sorry all my chapters are coming out slow lately the depression is lwk winning. WI is getting its next chapter SOON. anyhoo i hope you enjoy this!! a little birdie told me that aventurine is getting an sp. i have 423 pulls saved up as of writing this, he will be E6'd <3
TAGS/CW: Canon-typical Slavery, Aventurine is a Smoker, Aventurine is ALSO not mentally well, Capitalism, Implied SA during slavery, Reader is a Stellaron Hunter, Everything that usually comes with a Yandere Fic. Etc, Etc.
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Kakavasha had become accustomed to the scent of iron, the aroma of indulgence.
“And the winning dog is thirty-five!”
The gates burst. Roaring, raucous cheers pierced the silence– Like a dam had collapsed, giving way to an overwhelming flood of noise.
Like ravenous animals in the stands, they howled and hollered. Enraged barkings of men on the precipice of losing their fortune, mingling with the euphoric shrieks of the victors. Rabid. Rowdy. Saliva drooling down their maws as the bets were distributed amidst the crowd.
It was so hot, so incredibly torrid. That cruel sun sat in the middle of the sky, humid and heady. Cool, dripping sweat being his only mercy. The wind barely blew, but flies gathered, zipping around the stands, like they sensed something rotten.
His hair was stringy and dripping with cool, pungent sweat. Blood trickled down his nose in a steady stream, fixated on his coarse, ruddy hands.
Kakavasha didn’t look further than his fingers, to the beaten heap of limbs on the ground. So instead, he dared to lift his head, only to flinch when the light touched his eyes.
“Ghh–”
The chains around his ankle rattled when he stumbled back. The patrons wore rings, but they were studded with jewels and designs. Placed upon their fingers, looped in bundles around their necks. Loose. Never constraining. They shimmered like stars as they jostled around.
Kakavasha began to salivate. They didn’t wear tattered rags torn from prying, perverted hands. They wore pelts. Thick, extravagant fur in the winter, while they relished in all the meat they could idly prod at.
His dirty, dripping hands twitched. So, this was how the other side of Sigonia lived.
“–Do you even hear me? Get moving, mutt!”
Kakavasha gasped, gulping the smoky, smoldering air as the scruff of his rags yanked him away. He hadn’t even noticed the chain breaking from his ankle, or the thick, meaty fingers knuckling against his bare spine.
His feet stumbled to catch up as his master dragged him through the raving crowds. Knocking into patron after patron, curses went flying before he was unceremoniously shoved through a back door.
It slammed shut, followed by the rattling of keys. A paltry bucket of water sat alone in the corner, lukewarm from the milder air.
“See–? I won, just like I said I would– I won the bet.” Kakavasha coughed, wiping the dribble off his lips. His expression curled into a relative snarl. “So you give me what I want– You get your riches, I get mine.”
His master was busy popping open an aureate flask. A nipping smell bit through the air before he took a swig, languid and unbothered.
“Clean yourself.” The man ordered firmly. “Y’Lucky, I’m in a good mood to entertain you. Made me a good pot of gold. You’ll get ‘yer spoils.”
Kakavasha heaved. Glancing back towards the bucket nestled in the corner of the room, a ring of gleam outlines the murky water inside. He didn’t need to touch it to know it was tepid. Stumbling forward, almost buckling on his knees.
He began to clean his paws. Dunking his scarred hands, a ruddy stain bursts into the water. Roughly scrubbing his face, dripping down the strands of his hair.
Spine protruding through his back, Kakavasha muttered to himself.
I won, I am the victor. I played fair, I deserve the prize. I deserve it. I do.
Kakavasha tried not to think about that dead dog. That heap of limps. The one who lost the bet. Barely flinching as he was wrestled up to his feet, a thick hand collaring his nape. Led along, through the halls in a daze.
“Vasha..! Vasha!”
A small, echoing voice broke his thoughts.
Unceremoniously, he was shoved into that dirty room. The door was already locked tight behind them. Kakavasha focused his gaze on [F/N], who waddled over to him with her hands outstretched, ready to tug at the end of his rags.
“Vasha..! Where’d you go? What’s that?” [F/N] babbled, holding onto him with her chubby fingers. Blinking up at him.
Something was gripped in his left hand. Kakavasha blinked. His knuckles were bursting with pressure.
It was a drooping, ragged old rucksack.
“..It’s food. Now move on and eat.” Kakavasha grumbled, already tearing open the bag before tugging her away from the door.
Cow liver, turkey bones, chicken skin. The contents wafted of a rather bloody, salty odor as it was brought to light. Cooked, but cold. And quantity over quality, it was. An entire loin of mutton lay at the very bottom.
Kakavasha recalled the way a merchant associate of his master often bragged loudly about the men in black. The imports that they heralded, and the wealth they blessed. As he sank his teeth into sweet, unfamiliar flesh, he tried to distract himself in vain.
[F/N] tore off a chunk of meat with her baby teeth, turning to look at
“..Did you hit your eye again? It’s all red and puffy.”
“I fell and hit my face. Don’t ask about it.”
“But what about your nose..? It–”
“Just– Shut up and eat your food in peace, what about ‘don’t ask about it’ don’t you understand..?!”
“...”
Kakavasha bit his tongue, glancing at the oblivious mess of a child beside him, staring down at the chunk of lamb in her fingers. Silence. Big Sister Sybell never went so quiet; her voice was always gentle, a breeze in the wind. Never a gale.
Licking the skin of his lips, Kakavasha wondered how she ever found the patience with him.
“..When we get out of here, I’ll be able to buy all the meat you could ever want. Cows, sheep. Even their leather and wool would be pennies to me.”
His expression didn’t change a bit, and his voice never lightened from a rasp. But there was a certain fire, an assuredness that was immeasurable. Certainty that made [F/N] lift her head.
Kakavasha continued.
“Plates of fruit and fish. I’ll buy bottles and bottles of that fermented juice whenever I want, even if I can’t drink it all. And I’ll wear fur around my shoulders and silver on my fingers. You’ll never want for anything again. If I snap my fingers, it’ll be delivered.”
“..I wanna go to school.”
There was a momentary pause.
“..You want to go to school?”
“Mm. I wanna know what the letters on my neck will mean.”
“...”
Crickets became unordinarily loud. The revelry of socialites became unmistakably distant, and the skin hanging off his ribs was so achingly smothering.
✦〘║♠♣♥♦║〙✦
“S-Sorry–”
The blade twisted in her chest. Firefly gargled. Tears running down her cheeks.
Shock rang throughout the room– A beat of intense silence as the monster made of memoria let out a garbled roar. Firefly was impaled midair, hanging from the creature’s tail like war spoils. The guests petrified as they watched Firefly’s body grow limp. Jaws agape.
It gutted her. Yanking the blade out as an explosion of prismatic blood painted the air. Her body fell like a rock, Stelle lunging forward to catch the corpse in her arms just before it hit the floor.
But it was too late. Her body ruptured. Becoming nothing but a puddle of viscous, iridescent blood.
“Firefly–!”
[F/N] screamed out on instinct, her feet moving for her, reaching out and–
“Ah–”
In a gasp of air, she found herself back in the calm, isolated confines of her hotel room. A hummingbird in her chest, sitting waist deep in tepid waters.
[F/N] groaned, shoving her face into her hands.
She had been forced out of the dreampool in a panic and had to lie to a concerned worker once they came to check on her. Still dripping in salt water, she had scrubbed herself down with a towel and thrown on the most basic of clothes.
Buttoning up a high-necked blouse, she trudged out of her room, heading towards the VIP lounge addressed in the invite letter.
It was quaint– For Penacony, at least.
Dim, warm lighting. An atmosphere that went down as smoothly as their drinks, and lingered just as long on the tongue. People milled about, a far cry from the raving crowds at the reception desk– All clamoring to sink into those fantastical pools of fleeting blue.
No, it wasn’t like that at all. Just a few people speckled around barstools and tables, toasting a cocktail glass in their hand as they made low, cool conversation.
[F/N] was hunched over the bar, trying to keep her own composure. Slow, rhythmic jazz from the nearby band was hardly soothing. She sighed. Listening to the clock tick away on the wall.
The little, decorated hand pointed directly to twelve.
“Everything alright, miss?” One of the bartenders found it prudent to check up on her, rounding the circular bar whilst he idly polished a glass. A rich complexion, yet scruffy around the beard.
And the accent he spoke with wasn’t Penaconian; the staff never were.
“..Sorry, everything’s absolutely fine. I just seem to be lost in thought, and I haven’t even ordered a drink yet.” [F/N] shook her head, nervously adjusting her collar.
“I’m curious. A frown is something I rarely see on the patrons of this bar. The bigwigs!” He let out a hearty round of laughter. Conversational. “How about you give me your order? I don’t mind a chat.”
“Right, uhm–” [F/N] quickly scoured the nearby menu, tittering down the page until she found something she liked. “I’ll take a ‘Death in the Afternoon,’ thank you.”
The bartender swivelled away the glass. The array of geometrical, iridescent bottles glistened as he prepared his work. As he fetched a glass, he raised an eyebrow. [F/N] looked away.
It wouldn’t hurt, would it? No, it wouldn’t.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m one of the representatives. The Genius Society, to be precise.” [F/N] sighed. “My boss is strict. If I want to go somewhere, she must come with me, and I can’t stray too far unless she gets concerned. And now that I’m roaming free, it should feel liberating, but..”
“But..?” He retrieved a bottle of absinthe.
“It feels like I’m in a jungle, needing to overcome some trial.” [F/N] admitted. “It’s.. Intense. And if I fuck it up, I might never get to leave on my own again.”
Firefly’s shriek stuck in her mind. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t. Firefly was fine; she was off in the Dreamscape somewhere, continuing the script.
But it was hard to shake.
“No family or home to go back to? I’ve met a few society workers here, and there, most I know live with their folks.” He asked, giving a glance back.
“The job requires me to be on-site, you could say.” [F/N] dodged the question. “And.. They sacrificed a lot to get me here.”
Foam rose, and the bartender let out air from his nose, like the sentiment was all too familiar. Her fingers began to drum on the bar.
“Oh– And the rules that they enforce..!” [F/N] perked up, watching as the bartender worked. “I can’t leave the site, I can’t have a phone or any kind of internet– and even when I get access to something like video games, I get only an hour of screentime. Hell! One of my coworkers does nothing but sit with a controller in her hand all day, and they don’t complain about her! Just me!”
Her hand slapped the bar.
“It’s like I’m in a cage. And I’d rather be a free bird, without any constraints.” [F/N] hunched over the bar, face in her hands.
She heard the clinking of a glass beside her.
“If you have a choice, it doesn’t sound like a job you want to keep, miss. You’re young, and the Genius Society may be bigshots, but you can find other work, no?” His suggestion was earnest, endearingly so.
“If only it were that easy. They’ve done so much for me, and I care about them a lot.” [F/N] lifted her head. “And besides, I’m not a bird that can fly for long.”
“I see.”
Death in the Afternoon. The shamrock spirit. It was a beautiful, shimmering ambrosia cupped under a wide rim. More grasshopper than gold. Garnished by a lemon twist and a sprig of sage– The sharp, almost sweet scent could already be tasted on the tongue.
It glimmered like stars, fleeting like the green light.
“That’ll be ten thousand credits, miss.” The bartender told kindly.
“Fifteen?” [F/N] guffawed. “Hold on– Let me find my wallet.”
However, before she could fish it out of her front pocket, something was tossed onto the bar. A loud slap commanded attention as it hit the marble.
[F/N] shot up straight. Credits. It was a wad of credits. Even the bartender seemed alarmed, his eyes darting between the cash and the culprit it belonged to. But who? She could suddenly feel a presence directly behind her.
“I’ll be the one to cover this tab. Do keep the rest as change.”
Articulate, yet undeniably arrogant.
Turning as calmly as she could, [F/N] came face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered man. His lavender hair adorned with golden laurels, and a face that looked so stiff, it could almost be plaster.
“Dr. Veritas Ratio.” He stated. Narrow, hawkish eyes honing in on her. Gesturing to the adjacent barstool. “I’d like to have a chat with the illustrious Genius Society Representative. If I may?”
It wasn’t a request. [F/N] smiled in the most polite way she could, kind, like an assistant would, as he sat down.
“Of course.”
✦〘║♠♣♥♦║〙✦
[F/N] tipped up her head, savouring the sharp kick of her drink as it went down.
But when she placed the glass back on the bar, she found herself sampling more silence than spirits.
The Intelligentsia Guild is an academic institution that was funded and supported by the IPC. It had countless schools and subjects under its banner, but was united by the brown-nosing of their scholars to acquire funding.
Daring to glance at the owlish man beside her, she had made no mistake. He was a member, certainly not an underdog. That golden wheel he wore as a brooch was mere proof of that.
And here they were, alone. Neither had spoken. [F/N] tense, trying to focus on her drink while the scholar himself watched with a keen eye. And the bartender had quickly excused himself, murmuring about a smoke break before slipping through a back door.
[F/N] couldn’t blame him. Her composure stayed steady.
“Let us cut to the chase and halt this game of charades.” Dr. Ratio spoke, his voice awfully loud against the muffled jazz. “You are not who you claim to be, though your disguise could be most convincing to the common eye.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dr. Veritas.” [F/N] trailed a finger down the rim of her glass. “I haven’t even introduced myself yet, and you’re calling me a fraud?”
“It’s Dr. Ratio.” He tsked, correcting her firmly. “And if you want to introduce yourself as the representative assistant of Ruan Mei, then you can save it. But giving me your proper title and description is something I might find interesting.”
He might find interesting? Yeah, as if.
But he seemed so sure of himself, speaking as if he were utterly right, with no doubt in his mind. And as the clock continued to tick by, time seemed to drag.
“You see, I happen to be involved with your so-called boss on an academic project. And the general public is unaware because of her rather reclusive nature, but Dr. Ruan Mei has no assistants to speak of.” A pin could drop. “So you can understand my interest when I heard of this so-called representative.”
[F/N] bit her tongue as she stared into the emerald pool of her drink, halfway downed. She saw the reflection of her coloured contacts, staring right back at her. Her alarm was visible, notable–
“You must be mistaken, doctor.” Her voice was suddenly curled in thorns. “I’m pretty offended that you’d bother me on my break time, accuse me of being a fraud just because you don’t know my boss well enough!”
She swung her legs over the barstool, standing to her full height. The alarm was thumping in her throat like a rabbit’s foot.
Swallowing it, [F/N] spoke once more.
“If you’re going to be so rude, then I don’t want to continue this conversation anymore.” She had to figure out what to do– About this man who could throw a wrench in everything–
Ratio was about to protest, not done dissecting her under his gaze. But just as he was about to get up, to wrangle her back down onto her seat. His eyes darted, landing on the left side of her neck.
And for a moment, he seemed taken aback.
“..You’re a Sigonian. An Avgin.”
[F/N] froze as the words left his mouth.
Thirteen. It was the number emboldened on her neck, followed by the fine, aged barcode underneath.
It was hidden, or it was supposed to be. But her collar slipped. She’d gotten careless.
“That’s– No.” She stepped back immediately. Becoming flustered, she yanked up her collar to shield it from his eyes. Wildly glancing around at the other patrons, who weren’t as observant. “I’m not– It’s decorative– It’s just a tattoo–”
Ratio looked surprised. His eyes were more owlish than hawkish now, wide, as if he was trying to stare past the contacts on her irises. He had spoken those words with such bafflement that seemed normally foreign on his tongue.
Even as she scurried away, he simply watched. Sat straight in his seat.
That was anything but ‘just a tattoo.’
“Now, this is..”
Bzzzt!
His phone began to ring in his right pocket, and he quickly slipped it into the palm of his hand. He was receiving a call, and he knew what for. Though the name made his fingers drum on the table.
Aventurine.
He picked up.
“Gambler. You called?”
“Are you done? It’s time to say hello to Mr. Sunday.”
Ratio looked at the half-finished drink, abandoned on the bar.
“..I’m heading there now.”
✦〘║♠♣♥♦║〙✦
Firefly awoke in a gasp. Face wet with tears.
She was gasping for air as she found herself in a dingy, defunct train terminal. The gentle light washed over the walls like waves against the seabed. A hint of fresh salt in the air as a lightbulb crackled overhead.
Her hands patted down her midsection. She sighed. No puncture to be found.
She sat up, wiping her face with her sleeve. It was oddly peaceful here. A sublime sense of silence, only broken by the faraway reverie of town life. Firefly was alone, sitting on the cold, bare concrete.
“Firefly–!”
“Eep!”
Silver Wolf’s hologram manifested in a flash of ultramarine, glitching into shape.
“Silver Wolf!” She gasped, dusting the dirt off her skirt. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! You scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to. Just– Good. I can still reach you in this place.” Silver Wolf scoffed.
The hacker didn’t have a pleasant expression. Did she ever? The apathetic annoyance was still there, but underneath, something was buried. Something she wanted to hide, something that made Firefly’s stomach crawl.
Her fingers were curled as if she were gripping a controller.
“Have you seen Peahen anywhere? I’m not able to locate her in the dream.” Silver Wolf asked insistently.
“Peahen?” Firefly blinked.
“Yes, [F/N], Peahen.” Silver Wolf exasperated.
“I was just with her a while ago, right before I experienced my first death. I can’t tell how long ago that was.. But I think she might have woken up.” Firefly explained, pushing herself up from the floor. “What’s going on? Why do you look so..”
Alarmed. But the word fell off her tongue.
“He’s here.” Silver Wolf stepped forward, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Aventurine. He’s in Penacony.”
“What?”
The phone switched on. Firefly had to lean over, ducking her head to get a good look at the screen. Pictures. Dozens and dozens of pictures of a blonde businessman roaming Golden Hour, his face unmistakable, those eyes even more so.
They were plastered across countless advertisements in the galaxy: billboards, magazines, and social media feeds. Such a sly smile. Firefly could recognise him anywhere.
“But the information you got–” She tried to argue, straightening up. “They said it was Opal, didn’t they?”
“According to my contact, there was a last-minute change of plans.” Silver Wolf pinched her temples, foot tapping incessantly at the floor. “Changing the enemies before we enter the next level? It’s unfair.”
Firefly seemed almost lost in thought, her lips thinning as she found herself holding onto the nearby railing. Gripping the cold metal.
“You haven’t told Kafka or Blade, right? Please tell me that you haven’t. I understand that this.. Makes things difficult. But if they find out and take [F/N] off-field, they’ll never let her leave again.” Both of them knew it was the truth. “And if it comes down to it, SAM and I will be there to help.”
“That’s what she said. But I don’t believe either of you.” Silver Wolf stated. “And if you want to know, I haven’t told them yet, but I’m going to find [F/N] first.”
A beat of silence broke the conversation. Firefly let go of the railing, pacing towards a lone bench to sit down. As she soaked in the brineborne air, her voice swam quietly.
“I know what it feels like to be trapped, to feel confined under fate.“ Firefly said. “Even if I can’t get my chance just yet, [F/N] has gotten her opportunity. I want her to take it.”
Silver Wolf didn’t say much after that, nor did her expression change, except for the flickering of her projection. If she had any thoughts, they weren’t shared, and instead, she reached for her wrist to close the hologram.
“Wait..!”
Her hand froze. Firefly’s voice cuts in.
“When this is all over, we can go to an Arcade on some faraway planet. Just us three.” She spoke up, her smile almost convincing. ”When my health gets better, and [F/N] is freed, we can pretend to be students from the nearby school, buy cheap drinks, and fight to see who can get the most tickets by the end of the day. We can forget, if only for a while. Would that sound good, Silvie?”
How fantastical such an experience sounded to her, how she spoke of it with a mystical air. Like it was an ambition to drink diet fizz and wind rolls of arcade tickets.
“It sounds lame.” Silver Wolf scoffed. “And don’t call me that. You’re picking up on her language.”
One final sentence left her lips.
“Just– Don’t tell her that he’s here.”
Her hologram disappeared in another flash of blue, leaving Firefly in the sublime solitude of the station.
She sighed, hunching over to plant her face in her hands. She took a few moments to gather her thoughts, to process the information. Listening to the distant beckoning of quiet town life, the glittering memoria swirling around in the air.
“I won’t.” Firefly whispered.
From within the shadows infesting the nearby alleyway, Sparkle had heard enough. And for a fool, she had anything but a smile on her face.
✦〘║♠♣♥♦║〙✦
“Oh? Took you long enough.”
Dr. Ratio pushed open the doors of Dewlight Pavilion, entering the foyer with an odd look on his face. Though it quickly turned into irritation as he heard the other man open his mouth.
Standing by a pillar, Aventurine was illuminated by the dim light. His hands were fitted with leather gloves, drumming against his plated phone case, as if he was about to make a rather impatient call.
He wore an obscenely large fur coat, of some endangered megafauna, that was for sure. And that smile on his face was wry, eyes glinting behind rose-tinted glasses.
“It’s not like you to be so late, doctor; you kept me waiting.” Exasperation hidden behind such a jovial tone. Aventurine tucked his phone away. “Anything you want to share before we go inside to meet Mr. Sunday?”
It was a rhetorical question. Dr. Ratio didn’t turn, but he could see the sheen of violet feathers in his peripheral vision, hiding amidst the rafters. Aventurine had spotted it too, of course, he did; a gambler's most valued card is their observation.
And he could also see that something was wrong with the good doctor.
He had been mulling over the newfound information, rereading the barcode of that girl in his mind—the small, fine writing listing her status like a nutritional label. Slave, Avgin, and a masculine name in Sigonian font.
Glancing at Aventurine’s brand, it was similar, not the same, but uncannily alike.
“Focus on yourself, Gambler.” Ratio scoffed.
Not now, not when that bird was watching. But as they began to make their way into the pavilion, travelling down the labyrinthian corridors, Ratio slipped out a vial with a golden owl cap.
Tugging out the papyrus inside, he read the words he had scribed before coming here:
The impossible in the Dreamscape is not "Death," but rather "Dormancy."Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.
Ratio wrote two more sentences, right in the middle. And slipped it right back into his pocket.
Hello ! Can i ask for something kinda weird ? I like dick growth and i wondered if Aventurine would like it in a betting/gamble situation ? Idk if you can help me about something like this, dick growth and husbandos is so rare ;w;
Thank you for reading me and sorry to have bothered you !
I would LOVE to write for this, but is it alright if you can clarify for me? At least a little?
My apologies, this is the first time I’ve been asked to write something like this, I’m a little clueless.
NSFW content ahead, so beware if you feel uncomfortable with the content:
They’ve always believed that they were blessed by the Gods themselves ever since you agreed to get with them. How can you — their perfect, wonderful, beautiful partner — ever consider them to be at your level? How can they ever hope to make you happy with their presence?
But you’ve never let their insecurities get in the way of your relationship; you've always tried your best to help them, to reassure them that you love them and only them. They’re your partner, they’re your lover, only them.
Every morning and night, they can only find themselves falling more and more in love with you. You’re so… so amazing, they feel unworthy of you. They want to show you how much they love you, how much you mean to them, how much you’ve helped them even before you two started dating.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ
Earlier today, they asked if they could have their first time with you. It was sudden, shockingly so, considering you were surprised when they asked. But they quickly reassured you that if you didn’t want it, you could say so. They’ll wait however long they have to until you’re ready. And even then, if you never want it, they’ll respect your choice.
But you’ve agreed, despite what they initially thought. It wasn’t something they thought you wanted, but it was a pleasant surprise.
When they got home, they did their absolute best to make the bedroom as comfortable as possible: Sweet-scented candles in the room
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ
Here they are, kneeling at the foot of your bed with you sitting on top of the mattress. Your foot is held by their hand — their thumb lovingly caressing your heel.
Gosh, every little part of you is perfection incarnate.
What have they ever done to deserve you?
Slowly, they lift your foot higher, and their lips land on the bridge of your foot. The kiss lasts for a few seconds and once it reaches its end, their lips simply move up to place another lingering kiss. And then goes higher, and higher, and even higher.
But their lips never touch the areas you don’t approve of yet, they would never violate you without getting your permission.
Their lips detach from your leg and move onto your torso, gently kissing you — your sides, your stomach, your back, whatever part you give an okay sign to — with an almost worshipful degree.
They can feel your skin growing hot, and you suddenly stop them. They can tell you’re hesitant, you’re not sure if you want this.
They don’t force you to decide, they move away to give you space, to wait for your next command. Do you change your mind? Do you want to continue?
After a few grueling seconds (for them, at least. But they’ll never say this, who knows if it’ll pressure you to agree? That’s the last thing they want), you allow them to continue. And they do.
“Would you like to take it further?”
You nod, looking away as you do so.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ
Now — with your permission — they take off your clothes, starting with your outerwear.
At every new article of clothing, they ask, they ask again and again until all that’s left are your undergarments.
They kiss your shoulder, their arms wrapping around your waist.
It’s shameful to admit this to themselves, but they’re already aroused by seeing you like this. But they’re no animal, they don’t pounce at you like a beast.
“Would you like to take off my clothes,” they ask.
“I… I’d like to do that,” you respond.
And you do so, starting from their outerwear. Every touch of your hand against their skin makes them feel warm, it makes their guard relax more and more until their body is practically weak against you; their face leans against the crook of your neck, their lips warm against your throat as they kiss your skin.
They’ll make this evening memorable for you, they promise. Whatever you want, just tell them. You don’t need to put in any work, let him take care of it.
You’ll do that for them, will you? Tell them what you want, tell them what you don’t want, tell them whatever you want, and they’ll ensure your comfort.
The IPC is always busy, never having a chance to rest for even a second. But thankfully, he has some free time today, what else would be a better choice than to spend the time with your child?
Warnings: N/A
A/N: When I read through this, the ending felt a little incomplete to me, but I didn’t have anything in mind, so I just left it like that.
Anyway, you can think of [Child Reader] as being between the ages of 2-3 years old, at least that’s what I had in mind. And you can decide if [Child Reader] is biologically related to him or he just adopted them, your choice.
Anyway, hope you enjoy.
His home has always been a place of organization; nothing was ever out of its place. A clean home helped him think clearly; it helped him see things as they were. There was no need for much thought into something that didn’t require much thought at all. He didn’t have to worry about cleaning up a mess when he came back too tired to think about it. All he needed to do was go to his bed and sleep. If he were lucky enough, he would go out of his way to switch to his pajamas, go do his business in the bathroom, and then sleep.
But ever since he got you, there were even more reasons for him to keep his space clean. You were just a tiny baby, no idea what anything was, and he needed to be extra careful with you. If there was anything out of place in his home, you would most certainly become curious, curious enough to play with whatever your greedy little hands got hold of.
Which is why he couldn’t afford a mess. What if there was paper on the floor? You’d try to eat it, or you’d get a paper cut before you could attempt to do anything. What if there was something sharp on the floor? You’d get hurt. Anything and everything was a danger to you, which is why he took two whole days to baby-proof his apartment, making sure to go through everything thrice before he got a chance to relax and be done.
Unfortunately, he’s always busy being a Senior Manager, meaning he barely has time for you. So whenever he was out, he would hire only the most trusted home cleaners and nannies for you. He can’t pay anyone who’s not qualified for the job he assigned them, your life is on the line! (Alright, this is a bit too dramatic, but he has good reasons to be paranoid.)
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
He came home early today, his schedule was cut short due to a mistake a client made on the way. It was a fatal mistake, one that would cost millions of credits to be thrown down the drain and forgotten. But he didn’t care at all, at least he got more time to spend with his precious baby.
Without missing a beat, he found the people he had hired and with a talk, he dismissed them all. Now, the house is left only to you, him, and his catcakes.
Speaking of his cacakes, he checked up on them earlier, and they were asleep all bundled up next to each other. How adorable.
Currently, he’s on his bed with his pajama on; a simple and loose satin pajama set, nothing too fancy. A black blanket is, meanwhile, under him to accommodate his comfort as you sit across from him, a toy block in your hands as you play with it.
He’s sitting criss-cross on top of the mattress, a soft, unguarded smile on his face as he looks at you. Whenever he’s with you, he always feels this… this warm feeling in his chest. He feels calm, like he can afford to put down his mask without anyone catching his slip-up.
This is his safe place, his safe place is you.
But let’s focus on you, shall we?
Unlike him, your expression is that of child-like curiosity, nothing elegant like his, but that doesn’t matter. You are a baby, after all, there’s no reason for you to be elegant — or know what the word even means.
The block in your hand was going through a series of assaults — ranging from going into your mouth to be covered in drool; being shaken in all directions; being thrown on the ground, only to have him pick it back up to hand it to you; etc. It’s a wonder there’s no crack or chip to the block, you’ve been doing this to your toys ever since you’ve had them, yet they’ve stayed so resilient like brave little soldiers.
He would feel a little bad if not for the fact that the block is – shockingly – not alive. Crazy, right? But as he looks at you figuratively destroying the block, he feels nothing but adoration for your actions. Here you are, giggling and playing as if nothing else matters to the world.
Honestly, you wanna know what he feels?
He just… wants to take you into his arms to squeeze you as much as possible; He wants to feel your warm little body against his chest while he places a multitude of kisses on your face, and playfully bites those fat little cheeks, only to then have you childishly whine and attempt to push his face away.
But who is he to deny himself such a want?
Before you can register the change in position, he lifts you and places you onto his lap, his arms go to wrap around your form to squeeze you – enough to feel you against him, but absolutely not enough to hurt you in any way.
He plants a kiss on your face, and then another, until he’s placing a barrage of kisses on your face: From your cheeks to your hair and to your little limbs.
“Papa–” You move your head to the side before he can kiss you again, and your hands go up to try and push his face away.
In return, he lets out a joyful chuckle before he stops his kisses, now moving on to just quietly hug your body.
Summary: The Express is close to running out of supplies. Fortunately for the crew, a port is nearby where they can resupply. But bad news for you, you have to go down as well. So here you are, going shopping with Himeko.
Warnings: I didn’t really thoroughly go through this, so there’s gonna be mistakes and some boring scenes.
A/N: N/A
The sun rises, it’s the beginning of a new day.
Usually, you would be sleeping in all nice and cozy since you would have nothing to do. Pillows would surround your fragile little head, with your big, comfy blanket on top of you. Nobody there to disturb you, no alarms to wake you up; just you, your bed, and the universe outside the Express to keep you company.
And it’s just… really early in the morning (or whatever time it is in the part of the universe you’re in), there’s no reason to be awake. I mean… what could be important enough for you to—
“[Reader], you there?”
A hand is placed on your shoulder to pull you back to the world of the living, and it succeeds. You turn back to look at the owner of the hand.
And it’s Himeko!
“Uh… Sorry, sorry… I’m just really tired. I mean… I kinda was woken up early.” You rub your eyes once you feel the dry feeling in your eyes again, the sensation you always feel before your eyes droop to let your body sleep.
“No, no, don’t apologize, I was the one who woke you up, after all…” She pats your shoulder apologetically, “We had to stop here to get a few things before returning to the Express, we were running out of supplies.”
“Why can’t Mr. Yang–” One look from Himeko is enough to shut your mouth. You nervously clear your throat and attempt to steer the look away, “My bad. I-I mean… I would love to go with my beloved, amazing, spectacular older sister. It would be a pleasure to help you!”
“…” She lets out a tired sigh at your dismissive behavior, “I got us a small spaceship to carry the supplies we’d eventually buy, so there’s no reason for us to carry anything.”
Oh? Thank the Heavens!
“Come on now, [Reader], we have to go start.”
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
❧ And that was the start of the long day, the long day of running around shopping. And it wasn’t even fun! The sun was especially hot today, you were sweating your sweet cheeks off the entire time! You have no idea how Himeko isn’t showing the fact that she’s overwhelmed too, she’s been sweating bullets too!
❧ You two seriously overestimated how hot it would be. Thankfully though, there was a clothing store that she spotted. And with an agreed-upon decision, you two went in and bought clothes to wear to help yourselves cool down easier.
❧ At least Himeko was smart enough to buy off a ship to carry our things. All you needed to do was go back to find the ship you two bought and
❧ Did that help? A little… maybe. But it wasn’t enough.
❧ Another relief came to grace you when a store selling lemonade was found. When you saw it, you practically scrambled to get in, while Himeko simply followed behind.
❧ This shit… you’re never doing this ever again, this trip sucked ass.
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
You and Himeko decided to take a break from your trip and just relax under the cool air conditioner of the store. The breeze from the machine blows at the glossy, humid sweat that covers the skin of the two of you; and the fresh lemonade that was bought replenishes whatever water you sweated off–
Fuck you, why’d you believe that? It’s not that kind of haven here.
That would be how you would describe the moment if not for the fact that you’re seconds away from passing out. When you came to the store, you and your sister thought you would be sitting inside as you finished your drinks.
But no! The Aeons just had to hate you!
Instead, you’re sitting outside.
An umbrella is over your head to block the harsh sun rays from touching your skin and giving you cancer, but that does nothing to cool you down. There’s a simple wooden table in between the two of you, the only thing on the furniture being the glass of drinks you two ordered.
“When… When are we going back?” You manage to stutter out your question after gulping down your… what? Fourth glass of lemonade? Even though the server has had enough of your orders, he’s begun to look at you with pure annoyance whenever he’s called up to your table.
“... Coffee. We just need to get coffee beans and then we’ll be done, [Reader]...” She takes a big gulp of her glass, no longer caring for how she acts. On the other hand, she’s fanning herself with the menu she got inside.
Really, why didn’t you get it earlier? You don’t wanna get up now and get it, you’re too lazy to do so.
“Seriously–?” No offense… but her coffees are trash to the taste of humankind. But would you tell her that? No, absolutely not! You’d rather die than hurt her feelings about something she loves doing. And besides, she always looks so happy when she prepares you a glass, so it’ll just make you feel like a horrible sibling if you did such a thing.
All she manages to do is nod at your one-word question, and you force yourself to suppress the groan that you just know would escape if you didn’t have self-control. Ugh, here comes another trip, yippee.
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
❧ When you two were replenished, the next trip started; you two – more like Himeko – went around to find a shop selling coffee beans as you just followed behind gloomily. After ten minutes of looking around, she finally found it.
❧ You went in with her and she immediately looked around the beans she wanted
➥ Coffee beans here, coffee beans there… “What specifically are you looking for, Himeko? What type of beans?”
➥ Himeko looks at you when you ask, “Well as you know, this planet isn’t commonly known to have cool weather–”
➥ “Wow, really? I couldn’t tell.”
➥ Que an annoyed frown formed on Himeko’s face, “Please be quiet, [Reader].”
➥ “Sorry, sorry.” You raise your hands in mock surrender, “I’ll be good.”
➥ “Anyway,” she glances at you to make sure you stay quiet, “This planet isn’t known for its cool weather. It usually gets rainfall twice a year; both of which are during the summer. Currently, it’s autumn, so whatever was grown only during summer is much more valuable. And that includes coffee beans.”
➥ “Wow,” all you can manage is a surprised blink after listening to her talk, “I didn’t know you researched that much about our destination.”
➥ “Who else would? You don’t, certainly.”
➥ “Whatever…” You laze around when it comes to your duties sometimes, you know that, but she doesn’t need to say it to you!
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
❧ Finally, after what seems like an eternity of following her around like a duckling and enduring her yapping (Just kidding~), she finds what she needs – her coffee beans – and goes to pay for it.
➥ The cashier lazily scans the coffee beans as they come and go. Once finished, he reads out the price, “This will be… 96,000 credits.”
➥ … You look at Himeko. Himeko looks back at you. You both look back at each other. Then you both look at the cashier. The cashier looks back at you.
➥ “How much…?” “Come again?”
➥ “This will be… 96,000 credits.” The cashier repeats his sentence, his expression showing nothing but boredom.
❧ Oh great, what a splendid day this is. You spent all your credits on the previous supplies and the multitude of juices. You have nothing left!
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
“Thank you for shopping~! Please come again!” A store clerk happily yells out behind as you two exit the store, a bright smile on her face despite Himeko’s obvious displeasure.
Unfortunately for Himeko, you two didn’t have enough money to buy what she wanted. Her expression shows nothing in terms of what she feels; her arms are crossed as she walks away from the store mindlessly, but you know she feels a little disappointed. From her yapping, she was very excited to get her hands on the so-called “rare” and “delicious” beans.
Hah…
Beans…
Mr. Beans…
‘Snap out of it!’ You mentally slapped yourself as your thoughts began to drift. Himeko’s upset and she wouldn’t want an awkward silence surrounding her on the way to the Express. And as her sibling, it’s your job to help her out.
“So…”
She looks at you as you break the silence, waiting for you to say what you want to say.
“Uh… Sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Her eyes widen at your apology, and she furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “This isn’t your fault, it’s not something you could’ve controlled.”
“I know that.” Why would that be your fault? Please, you’re happy she didn’t get the coffee beans. It would’ve taken the cashier a full half an hour to scan everything in the cart.
Yeah.
She got that much.
Even you, with your ridiculous gambling and spending habits, would never get that much of anything. Too much is boring, too little is upsetting, so the right amount is the proper amount.
“We can get them next time, ‘Kay? And if Pom-Pom allows it, we can get more money from them to get the beans.”
“No, that’s…” Even though she’s denying it, you know she’s thinking about it. “We’ll… try it out then.”
Imagine having sex with your fav character, but [Reader] has the ability to control shadows.
Like
[Character] wants to dominate [Reader], and they do (for the first few rounds) until [Reader] uses their ability to dominate [Character] with their shadow.
So now, [Character] is being dominated by [Reader]’s shadow and [Reader] themself.
(If you’re extra freaky, you can add [Character]’s shadow too)
Astral Express x Himeko’s Sibling Gn!Reader (Platonic)
Characters mentioned: Asta, Arlan, & Herta
Word Count: 2,633
Warnings: N/A
A/N: The writing is a little awkward, hope you don’t mind.
❧ You and the other two found the lady’s name: Stelle. She didn’t really remember much, or anything at all, the only thing she did know was her name. Even as you were thinking to yourself about how weird it was, you couldn’t really stop and think while there were literal intruders in the Space Station!
❧ You guys found an elevator and as you were going to operate it, you came up with a conclusion.
❧ …
❧ The security system is down, and even Dan Heng, after he comes back, confirms it.
➥ But thankfully, Dan Heng brought up the idea of finding Arlan. You guys find an injured Arlan, and he thankfully does help. At the top, you guys see your beloved sister
——————————————
With adrenaline pumping you up and a goal in mind, you help Arlan carefully walk to the elevator; Himeko’s drone watches your backs while Dan Heng looks behind to see if anything is catching up to the four of you.
As you all reach the top of the floor, you hear Himeko’s voice, “Why does it always have to get this exciting?”
Huh?? Well for your sister’s information, you were literally fighting for your life! How is that ‘exciting?’
She leans up to face the five of you, and a smile adorns her face when she locks eyes with the group.
“Anyway, at least you’re back.”
March, Dan Heng, and Stelle go to Himeko to talk to her. Meanwhile, you look around to see if there’s a seat available.
Thankfully, there’s a nearby bench, so you walk Arlan to sit somewhere, making sure to be careful as you do so.
A silence fills the space between you two before he opens his mouth to talk, “You didn’t have to….”
He looks upset judging from the downturned head and the clenched hands on his lap. “I’m the one who’s supposed to protect the researchers here, I don’t—“
“Nonsense,” you bring up a hand to get him to stop talking, and he does, but with a hint of surprise as his eyes stare at you, “You were injured, and we simply couldn’t have left you be. And besides, Asta’s worried about you. Like… a lot. You’d horrify her if she heard that you were too stubborn to come with us. You wouldn’t want that, right?”
A hint of guilt flashes in his eyes when you ask him the question. “Of course not, I wouldn’t want to worry her. She’s already so busy during this time, I wouldn’t want to burden her…”
You nod, satisfied with the answer, and pat his back, “Just sit still, I’ll get a doctor to check up on you, ‘Kay?”
“Who’s gonna—?”
“Tch, just stop worrying. Himeko or will report it to Asta.”
“… Alright. Thank you, [Reader].”
————————————
By the time you go back to the group, everyone seems to be acquainted already. And now they’re staring at you as you approach them.
“…”
Goodness gracious, this feels awkward. You’re this close to just walking away.
“Hey…?”
——————————————
❧ Anyway, after the awkward moment (at least to you), you go meet up with Asta. As you guys are walking, you strike up a conversation with Stelle. Since there’s a stranger here, you might as well get familiar with her. No risk, high reward (like that one blonde-haired Stoneheart would say).
❧ You guys talk to her and then are told to help calm down some of the other researchers and help them. A big task if you ask yourself, but it makes sense. Not everyone is familiar with The Destruction’s legion, so there’s bound to be fear.
➥ Some guy named Hinkel or whatever his name is was blabbering about how he was gonna die and stuff. It was a hassle to talk to him, tbh. But are you gonna show that to him? No! You’re gonna try your best (alongside Stelle) to calm him down.
❧ Once you two are done, you go meet up with Asta. None of you can even get a word in before the alarms go off and red holographic screens show up.
——————————————
“Huh…?”
Both March and Asta gasp as the first warning pops up in the air, and everyone else behind them takes a step back as even more warnings come to life, even you’re alarmed.
“What’s happening?”
March asks as she looks around for the source of the alarm. But no need to look further, a big ass noise is here to answer her.
A holographic screen appears before Asta to show the problem.
What’s the problem? Nothing much, just a Doomsday Beast’s claw breaking through the Station’s shield and—
Wait…
A Doomsday Beast!?
You look at the screen more closely and… yeah, that’s a fucking Doomsday Beast! What’s it doing here?
“Madam Asta—“ You force yourself to face Asta in a rather nervous manner, silently waiting for what she’s gonna say.
She doesn’t turn to look at you, her eyes are focused on the screen as a frown settles onto her face
“Take the Express and leave.”
Now is the time when she focuses on you and Himeko. “I’ll stay.”
March steps forward with a hint of worry, “But…”
You look at Himeko and she nods at you, “Let’s go.”
She grabs Stelle and turns back to leave, and you do the same with March.
March, at first, takes a couple hesitant steps, and then she full-on sprints to match your pace, “What about Asta? We can’t just leave her!”
“She’ll be fine,” you attempt to reassure her the best you can, “I’m sure she has a plan.”
March furrows her eyebrows in worry, she’s clearly in doubt, but she doesn’t question you.
——————————————
❧ … There’s good news and bad news, Himeko tells you four.
➥ We’re at a safe zone, but we lost communications.
❧ Now unfortunately, none of you know what to do. On one hand, you can go back to help Asta, but a fucking Doomsday Beast is what’s causing the problem. On the other hand, you guys can go to the Express with less worry on your shoulders; there’s no Lord Ravager, so the problem isn’t that big… It’s still big though.
➥ Eh, might as well intervene, “Why don’t we meet up with Ms. Yang?”
❧ Himeko turns to look at you, “That’s… a good plan. There’s a path here that can lead us to the nearest railway platform. It won’t take us much time.”
➥ March, once she hears the confirmation, lights up like a bunch of lights, “Mr. Yang is here, right? He’s still on the Express!”
➥ Stelle finally breaks out of her silence, “The Destruction’s Emanator?”
➥ Unfortunately, there’s not much time to answer her question, “I’ll explain later. First, we have to get out of here.” You pat her back and move along now.
——————————————
And…
There it is!
Once you all reach the railway platform safe and sound, you let yourself relax a little. You stretch out your arms and let out a deep and heavy sigh, “Finally, I was wondering when we’ll—“
Dan Heng looks at the area where the Express should be, but there’s a lack of a train.
“The Express isn’t here.”
Oh?
You look at the place he’s looking at and sure enough, there’s nothing in the space.
“Thanks, Dannie Boy.”
The nickname gets Dan Heng to pause in his steps. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, clear confusion on his face as he waits for you to explain further. When you don’t, his shoulders slump down.
“It has to be nearby!”
March runs to go look closer at where the Express should be and makes a dramatic act of squinting her eyes, “Let me go take a peek with my sharp eye.”
There’s a sudden gust of wind and as Dan Heng is ready to warn her, you pull March back before the Doomsday Beast has the chance to land.
“The Doomsday Beast,” Himeko steps forward as she looks up at the thing, “It’s really here.”
March moves to be in front of the group, her bow and arrow ready to strike, “Get down here!”
The Beast seems to have listened as it stops its dramatic turns in the air to land on the platform with a roar.
——————————————
After like… 30 minutes? An hour? Of fighting the giant ass beast, it falls as if exhausted and defeated.
The crew relaxes a little once the victory is ensured—at least they think it is. Everyone lowers their weapons once they feel safe, you can hear a multitude of sighs around you once the place feels secure. And March even collapses to the ground to relax.
“Is everyone alright…?”
“Mm-hmm…”
“I’m… fine.”
“I’m okay!”
Once everyone says their lines, that’s when you relax—
“[Reader], behind you!”
What?
You turn to look behind yourself as instructed, and a giant ball of light forms on top of the creature’s mouth.
Lovely, it’s not defeated.
Colors of orange and yellow gathering at its core before the beast moves it heads to shoot at…
The crew!
“March!”
All three of you: Himeko, you, and Dan Heng yell out her name as the direction of the beam becomes clear, and then, from the corner of your vision, you see a figure moving.
“Stelle!”
She moves before you can even take a breath, and she stands in front of March to act as a shield, using her body to protect her.
One second, the beam hits her.
Next, there’s a sudden gust of wind blowing you back. You try to look up, to check up on Stelle, but there’s another light getting in the way!
Fucking hell, you can’t see shit! You cover your eyes with one of your forearms and open your eyes, hoping to see what’s happening to Stelle.
And…
She’s floating up into the air like some—
Yeah, you don’t know what to compare it to.
Before anything drastic can happen, Mr. Yang appears out of literally nowhere and just taps the girl on the forehead, and now whatever caused the ruckus calms down. Stelle falls and March catches her.
March puts her head on her chest and looks up at him, “Mr. Yang! Is she…?”
He adjusts his glasses and lands in front of the two women. He looks at Stelle critically, like he’s assessing what just happened, “They’re okay now.”
With his cane on the ground now, he turns back to walk away, leaving March and the group to take care of Stelle.
——————————————
❧ Stelle is then moved to one of the clinic rooms in the Space Station: You carry her there as Dan Heng follows.
➥ After a silent moment or two, you ask him, “Where’d Himeko and March go?”
➥ Dan Heng tilts his head up to look at you, “They went to Lead Researcher Asta to report on the situation.”
➥ “Is March… okay after the situation?”
➥ “Himeko is helping her after the situation,” said Dan Heng. “If not, you and I can help. But regardless, we should focus on Stelle at the moment.”
➥ Okay, thank the Aeons! “Thanks, Dannie Boy.”
➥ “… Again with the name?”
❧ You two reach one of the clinic rooms and a nurse helps you two settle down. Thankfully, whatever Mr. Yang did helped a bunch since you were told that she’s in no physical harm.
❧ After some time, you can see Stelle open her eyes. She opens her eyes and groggily looks around.
➥ “Is this…” She squints her eyes to adjust to the surrounding light, “The space station?” She looks around before she sees you two.
➥ “Hi.” Is what Dan Heng says with that blank look of yours, but there is a hint of worry in his eye.
➥ “Hello, Miss.” You give her a little wave.
➥ She returns your wave with one of her own, but with less energy.
❧ After she officially wakes up, you two, once again, check up on her to see if she’s actually alright. Once you two are at ease, Dan Heng informs her of the situation. To summarize: Doomsday Beast fell, the Legion said “bye-bye.”
❧ And now, all of you guys have each other's phone numbers to not lose contact (minus you and Dang Heng, you guys already have each other’s numbers).
➥ “If you don’t mind, Stelle.”
➥ Stelle lets out a hum, letting Dan Heng continue.
➥ “Take [Reader] with you, you may need some help finding Himeko.”
❧ Here you are, with Stelle, going to find Himeko.
➥ “So…” You didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Stelle personally earlier today, this might be a good time to do so, “What… do you like…?” You end the question with an awkward smile.
➥ She looks at you in silence, the only thing you can hear are footsteps as you two walk.
➥ Damn, okay, no need to make you feel bad for talking. “Never mind, ignore what I asked.”
➥ “Uhh,” she looks around a little, “I like games.”
➥ “Oh?” Well, that’s obvious, she’s been on her phone nearly all day, even with the life-threatening situation that happened. “What kind of games?”
➥ “A lot of games.”
➥ Okay, this is getting annoying. “Any specific kind?”
➥ “The good kind.”
➥ The smile on your face drops, and you’re left with a blank look. All she does is look at you with a smug expression.
➥ “You’re not gonna specify?”
➥ She shakes her head.
❧ Before you can lose your cool, you finally find Himeko. She’s gazing out, deep in thought. She doesn’t seem to notice you two until Stelle calls out.
❧ As of the moment, they’re talking about March and Dan Heng, about how they’re in the Express. You already know this (you just have a sixth sense for it, what can you say?) until another voice cuts into the conversation.
➥ “I’ve only been gone, what? A few months? And the space station is already in this state?”
➥ “Welcome back, Herta.” Himeko greets her.
➥ “Hello—“ You get cut off. Very unfortunate.
➥ “Don’t talk to me.” Herta doesn’t even glance at you, like you’re some sort of vermin in her presence.
➥ Ouch, harsh. “What’d I do??”
➥ Herta ignores you.
➥ …
➥ Wow, okay.
➥ Himeko, after clearly seeing Herta’s distaste towards you, stepped in to introduce her to Stelle, “This is the true master of the space station — Genius Society number 83, Herta.”
❧ You zone out as the three ladies talk to each other, yet you still make an effort to look like you’re listening — your eyes are faced forward and your expression is that of a person who’s contemplating and processing what’s being said.
❧ At last, you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder. The culprit? Stelle.
➥ “Where’s Herta’s office?” This is all she asks.
➥ Herta’s office? Why’s she going there? “Why are you looking for her office?”
➥ She shrugs and leans back. “I don’t know, she said something about wanting to research the Stelleron inside me.”
➥ “So…? She’s gonna dissect you?”
➥ She makes a grossed out face, “Ugh, don’t say that! … No, hopefully not.”
➥ “You don’t even know?”
➥ She shrugs at the question, “She didn’t tell me what she meant by ‘research.’”
➥ Alright, fine, you’ll take that as an answer. With a pat on her back and some steps forward, she follows you.
❧ You get to her office safe and sound, no minions on the way (kidding, you take care of the creatures while she stands behind to watch). For a few minutes, Stelle takes the time to look around; she looks at the decor (there’s barely any decor) and she reads the descriptions of the portraits in her office. She’s fascinated.
❧ Once she’s done, she goes to talk to one of Herta’s puppets. It’s explained that because there’s a project some of the colleague of Herta is working on, Stelle should test it.
❧ … Weird logic, but okay. Go Herta, you do you.
➥ “You wanna come with?” Stelle gets out her baseball bat and waits for your response.
I remember I once saw a recap of a movie called ‘Teeth.’
Trigger warning for body horror and assault:
It’s about this teenage girl who finds out she has teeth in her genitals.
One day, she’s attacked by a guy and the teeth are activated as a defense mechanism (basically ripping apart the guy’s cock).
When she comes to term with her unique condition, she uses the teeth as a weapon against men who seek to exploit and/or harm her.
Thinking about it now, I wonder how a fanfic with a reader with this condition would be, especially in a Yandere setting where the character doesn’t really have the best of intentions.
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snowghoul
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