Hi, I'm Raven, some might know me from my magical girl! reader fics, some might not, I've changed some stuff a bit. I'm going to try to write more, but I can't promise anything. Just request stuff i guess.
(Chrome yumeshipper btw)
Fandoms I will write for:
- Punishing: Gray Raven (HEAVY on this cuz there's practically just crumbs.);
- Genshin Impact;
- Honkai Star Rail;
- Etheria Restart;
- Ajin demi human.
That's all for now.
My do's and don'ts:
- I will:
> Write fluff, angst, platonic and NSFW *keep in mind I'm 17 at the moment (February 24);
> Only write x reader or canon x reader x canon;
> Mostly non binary, fem and AFAB reader, but I will occasionally write male and AMAB;
> I can write headcanons, drabbles, oneshots (or at least try 😭).
- I won't:
> Write ANY minor x adult OR minor x minor relationships;
> Please do not request any non-con, dub-con (depending on the situation I will write Stalker x Stalker);
> I won't write excessive gore, but it'll depend on the situation and what the fic is about.
That's about all for now, might add stuff down the line. Requests are OPEN.
I embraced {it} close {and} danced (knights of moralis jing yuan and reader)
MAJOR WHA MANGA SPOILERS 93+ | cw: angst, no comfort. no pronouns for reader. 16+ | reader and jing yuan are based on qifrey and olly.
wc: 2.2K
read on ao3
Respect has always gone both ways. Even as children, your radiance made it easy for Jing Yuan to give you the upmost respect, bright amber eyes looking up at yours (now he must crane his neck and peer down at you) with wonder and adoration for your craft and very soul.
So he utters a small prayer before entering your room, sigils keeping cold and strangers out, but bending so easily when he breaches the wards. He waited until you had to depart from the great hall, he's still a coward at heart, forgive him?
Your bedroom, or more so study, after you have decided to invade his bed and heart, is filled with journals, quires, books and pots upon pots of inks and spare pens, even nibs you cycle through and collect when drawing itself becomes tedious. The workstation is less organized, papers strewn everywhere and ink spilled onto used papers, scraped spells and references torn apart. How unusual.
Brushbuddy follows him, curling around your spells and delicate doodles, leading Jing Yuan to a pile of drawings, circles with white tendrils fanning out, dots littering the surface and three rings, the rest shrouded in black. But there's different additions to it—an inverted sigil for trees, another has a leaf, some have details reminiscent of the counterclock spell. Mixing one of the exceptions of forbidden magic with conventional, and somewhat outdated sigils. How foolish of you.
Then the journals. He really shouldn't do this, his morality, the loyalty you gave him would deem this as a horrid breech of your trust. But other than your confidant, he is the Wise in Principles, a knight of Moralis. And duty often calls when unwarranted. Thus he flips through the pages, it starting at the day of his third trial.
If i could forget it, I would be fine not knowing. But then what kind of friend would I be? That curse—he said he was unfamiliar with feeling such kindness—if I had known that my kindness made things worse would I have been cruel instead?
I did something I shouldn't have. I didn't tell Master Feng I wanted to head to the tower, but I had departed with Jing Yuan after he acquired permission from Master Jingliu. then that. I ran in after learning, and barely made it back in time. He won't remember this, but telling him of it would make things worse. I've preserved a piece of his branches in order to study it, decipher if there's a spell in the rings. The curse manifests as a tree, right? Trees have rings, and rings lead to the formation of spells. No matter how archaic I will find the secret.
—————
It happened again. We kissed, this time. Oh why did I let him? I wanted it too, yes. But those feelings would only exacerbate the spell that keeps him under it's thumb. I've had to redraw the spell, and apply it once more. Would it be easier to just have it handy then apply when needed? He was so soft too… maybe one day, i'll be able to kiss him for real.
—————
I've carved open the rings of the tree. There's naught to be discovered, the ink is his blood, isn't it? It has dried and spells faintly of iron. Does harvesting ink hurt the tree? It must. It sickens me, but I have to use ink in order to save him, dont i? Why is fate so cruel to him of all people? He already was outcast and lost his memories, Jingliu had fell ill after Baiheng's own illness worsened.
Not to mention my own Master. He committed a sin for Yingxing, bringing him back. But no one wants to do anything, other than keep it under wraps. but they did remove my Master's memories of the spell and witchcraft.
the rest of the page is covered in tears, the ink smudged and text crossed out, too painful for the writer (or reader) to witness. These things he has no recollection of.
Nightmares are things you became privy to, and Jing Yuan had divulged his grief to you, which made the roots take hold once more.
I can't do this anymore. I had to remove his memories again. And again. He passed the fifth test. My brightest, most radiant and kindest star. I want him to be happy. But then I'll kill him, by offering solace and love, won't I?
The worst part is I want it. I want to be close. I, the one destroying him wants that? How could I?
I tried running away. I left the great hall, did odd jobs but then—he found me anyway. He chased me and with an ache I've never seen from that perpetually smiling face permeated his words of love. He then let the branches take over again.
Maybe I'm a fool. I raised my own hand against my one love. I can't leave him. If he falls in love again, will he be destroyed again? I am the only one of us, probably the only person alive cruel enough to do this to him. That's fine. I will be the one to commit an atrocity for his sake.
I had to erase his memories once more. May this be the last I will have to do such a thing.
These gaps in his memories, dates when he fell asleep at your side, your eyes red and voice hoarse, was this all why? You knew about his awful curse from the start and you never told him, only letting him live in this delusion that you were safe, happy, and he never showed himself to you. Yet you willingly shouldered his burden, let him believe he could live as a normal human and be happy, even from a distance.
You were right.
You truly are the only person alive cruel enough to do such a thing. Which is why your most radiant star, will be the kindest, and make sure you will never have to worry for him like this again.
Throes of emotion from him are atypical, rare at best. But he digs, making a bigger mess out of your room in favor of finding answers. And maybe you got close enough to fixing him, for ending this stupid thing.
But your own research halts. You had interrogated brimmed caps, none knowing the answers you seek. Against protocol you met Yingxing, who turned to forbidden magic after his accident, and even he had no clue, the people he now calls his companions unable to offer aid.
It's such an old spell. It is the only way we can perform magic yet it's so cruel. If this is the cost of my magic, of my art then what is the point of ever casting another spell?
Using their ink—their blood—to cast spells that cause nothing but pain is a dishonor. I shall use their ink in a way befitting these unwilling sacrifices.
You had written that in the margins of your encyclopedia, an old book on the movement and nativity of silverwood, but none of these trees have a set environment. Not until you figured out his secret.
A place they were most at home, and their rest only assured when they have truly loved and felt safety.
The roots wriggle in his abdomen, that evil twisting making his head ache. Will you be his home, as you have done in the past? He can't do that to you, your loneliness will make you head to insanity, the years of research gone in a blink of an eye.
Pages spill out of the backtext of the encyclopedia. Sigils and rings that allude to the forbidden, things that have been lost to time, and even instructions on how to draw them on subjects while allowing for minimal pain. The knights will not stand for this.
Before he is a Wise one, he is yours. However you'll have him. But to allow an exception other than the singular one that has been made? another might get a foolish idea just like you, might allow for magic to grow beyond it's rightful scope in bringing joy, serenity to those that have the power to witness it. But all humans want is to live, why can't he wish for the same, to become more human and rid himself of the curse? Pain can only teach so much, and he can only receive so much love before it all leads to ruin. Won't you let him have more? He loses himself, pacing, opening drawers for what? Evidence, hope? all are the same under the gaze of a foolish heart and the duty of a knight.
No invisible ink, all your work laid out in plain sight. All should be confiscated, even if your magic will bring hope to those that deserve it, perhaps his downfall is karma because of his selfishness. Ringing echoes in his ears, his hands shake and drop your tools and vials of ink, but that doesn't matter. He must find your work, must destroy it (but perhaps try it on himself first. No. He can't. That would be a disgrace).
Thinking before acting is never a good thing in these situations. Your footfalls are silent as he paces, reading through your pages of notes.
"Jing Yuan? What are you doing? You rarely visit my quarters…" your voice trails off, his expression stormy as he reads through your new journal, your latest discoveries.
Worst of all is your quire of choice for today has no memory erasing spells, only the kind to repair the roads and to light the way for your travels. "Your brightest, most radiant and kindest star, am I?" A tone reserved for the worst of the brimmed caps, the most foolish of apprentices who think forbidden spells will bolster what does not exist.
The spells.
You lunge forward, reaching for the quire, your latest creation inside. You intended to use it on yourself, the journals as a safety net in case anything goes wrong, and written instruction to be left out, ready for you to read after you apply the spell. It doesn't matter to you how he found it, all that matters is that he doesn't tamper with it and lets you help him, in the capacity you always have been.
locked in a dance, teetering between hope and despair he dodges, mind still reeling from what he has seen. He should contain you, arrest you and erase your memories and send you to the Isle of Oblivion.
Erase…? In a few moves he pins you against the parchment covered bed, forcing you down. "I'm sorry. I know you've done it for me, for us haven't you?"
You nod frantically, your sweat causing the ink on the papers beneath you to seep into your skin.
A kind smile from your love. "Let me help you. Please a-yuan."
The branches crawl out of the socket where his right eye once was. "I cannot allow that. What if someone finds out, and they make me turn my spear against you? Maybe one day you'll find it in yourself to forgive me."
He flips open the quire, the branches receding once he does. This cannot be allowed. You push, tugging and kicking, but your struggle only seems to strengthen his despair, those branches grow even more, but recede just the same. Fighting against you pains him, but knowing what you're fighting for, and so desperately only consoles him. It's cruel of you to reassure him in such a violent manner.
"I'm doing this as your lover, not as a knight. Have that much faith in me, dearest."
"I never blamed you for it." your fate is sealed, his grip near bruising, and you're no match to him physically.
A gentle kiss against your cheek, and with the drop of a leaf, a tear meets your damp face. "I love you, a-yuan."
The last time you said it you had erased his memories, just as he is doing to you.
"I know."
Branches made from ink and the forbidden reach out to you, latching onto the primitive brain and your medulla, extracting and tampering, until you're limp against the bed, his body over yours.
Just as your memory gets erased in seconds, he's gone, the room now colder without him, and the branches receding.
If he took the time to look back, he'd see your fingers twitch, reaching out, but faltering. What are you reaching for? Who do you ache for and desire more than anything else, and why does the name evade you while the scent coalesces into the taste of love and regret?
The answers to your questions will never get answered they way you want it to, and the one these are for will never hear you.
"I guess i worked too hard when I want to the great hall." you laugh, walking out of your old room and into the kitchen, stealing a bite of the meal he's preparing.
"Missed me?" you smile, leaning towards him and waving.
Jing Yuan is quiet, a melancholy look you loathe to see on him, but cannot remember why you react so viscerally to it, and then he smiles, "Perhaps. It's good to have you back."
a/n: I didn't think its angsty enough but idek man.
Y'kbiw i was just thinking about the tailor reader x T.Herta. And I remembered that T.Herta can't cook for shit so I imagine that the reader would do most of the cooking (I imagine they're cooking is as good as their tailoring skills)
Now I can't stop imagining the Herta puppets finding out about that and having a little intervention with T.Herta asking for taste buds or something
Awww oh my gosh they would get so whiny about that once they realize!! It doesn't help that T.Herta is probably feeling too jealous of her little spawns to show them kindness at first, instead using this as an opportunity to rub it in their faces how special your bond with one another is.
Of course, eventually you catch wind of this and stand up for the poor things, much to her annoyance. And now they're the ones bragging. Stupid dolls really oughta know their place...
Phainon doesn’t hate a bald pussy (he will get rock either way and even possibly cream his pants), he just really enjoys a bush. Like enjoys it. Too much.
He mourns your shaved pubes. If he could he would keep it. He keeps it hidden in a jar underneath his bed.
Traversing through the jungle is a part of the process. It really gets him going. A bush is natural and it ticks off his primal instincts. God who he loves to eat you out 😍 And if you sit in his face he’ll cum instantly. It’s honestly so pathetic. Like get a grip man.
Good luck separating him from your cunt! 😽 You’ll need…
Scenario where Jiaoqiu takes care of a sick Reader.
Whenever you fall sick, Jiaoqiu fusses over you like a worried parent. Even if it’s just a common cold, he gives you strict instructions to rest and eat his cooking to get better.
And cook for you he does.
Even when Jiaoqiu is busy serving Feixiao and completing his duties as a retainer, he makes time to cook healthy and tasty dishes to nourish you back to full health. Chicken noodle soup, congee, tea with lemon and honey, and more are delivered to your bedside on a tray each day by a concerned Jiaoqiu.
He checks your temperature by placing a cool palm on your forehead, brows pinching together when he feels how hot your skin is, and his tail sways in displeasure whenever he hears you coughing or sniffling. If you complain about a sore throat, he whips you up a hot drink of ginger and lemon to soothe the pain and observes to ensure you drink it all.
He places a damp towel on your forehead to lower your fever, and regularly swaps it out for a fresh one. Jiaoqiu even visits you at night to check your condition and spends the night by your bedside if he discovers your fever worsening. You’ll wake up to find him sitting in a chair beside your bed with his head resting on the mattress and your hand grasped tightly in his. He gets little sleep on those nights because he stays awake to fight your fever, so finding him napping like this is a common occurrence.
Despite you telling him your condition is not so bad that it requires round-the-clock care, Jiaoqiu won’t stop worrying. How can he not worry when you don’t feel your best? When you shiver while running a high fever, when your voice sounds hoarse, when you wince each time you swallow his food because your throat is so sore?
As a healer, it is his duty to care for the sick, or so he tells you while spoon-feeding you some soup. You can feed yourself? He knows, but he saw how weak your grip was on the spoon earlier, so it’s safer if he feeds you. You can bathe yourself? Yes, but you sway while standing on unsteady legs, so let him carefully wipe you down with a cloth instead. Besides, he likes actively caring for you like this, though you don’t need to know that.
Jiaoqiu is mischievous and sometimes sadistic, but when it comes to seeing others suffering or not feeling their best, his caring side shines through. Even if he gave up on being a healer, he can never give up on taking care of those who need help, especially those whom he loves.
You will be nursed back to heal by his caring and gentle hand, given the best treatment a patient could ask for, so make sure to thank and praise him when you recover, alright? For now, get more rest and get better, dear.
