Random Tweets From HSR Men + My Oc At The End

Random tweets from HSR men + my oc at the end

These are really fun to make

Pairing: Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

Content: slight angst, reader is cursed to be a sparrow

What had begun as an endearing little moment between the General and a sparrow had begun to be a routine soon after. Soft little feathers would brush up against his cheek as the little bird passed from one shoulder to the other underneath this thick hair, telling him stories in sweet little chirps, sometimes sad, but most times it sounded like any other sparrow call.

He had begun to miss his lover dearly, and he feared the worst may have struck them. Day in and out he was all ears and eyes for the sights of them, for the smallest of traces that could give way to their status, and silently he prayed to whoever was listening - please, let them live. Sighing, he’d turn to the little ball of fluffed feathers that perched on his shoulder, tilting its head side to side, silently asking him why he stopped giving it the attention it wanted. He gives it a smile, a tired curl of his lips that seems to catch the attention of the bird as it hopped closer to his face.

Being none the wiser, Jing Yuan would extend one finger for the bird to climb onto, bringing it closer to his face once it did and gently, until he could land one quick kiss to the top of its head. It didn’t fly away, but instead pecked his lips in return, causing the General to let out a husky chuckle, droopy golden eyes looking down at the mischievous creature. “Someone is surely feeling energetic this morning, I’m glad one of us is..” he trailed off, and his smile no longer reached his eyes. He was alone in the Seat of Divine Foresight. Not a soul in sight, and even the guards that would usually stand on each side of the door had been ordered to stay out - Jing Yuan couldn’t bear for his men to see him physically droop. He had an image to uphold. But, oh, how he missed them..

As he lowered his hand, the sparrow was prompted to stir the air with its little wings and search for purchase on his shoulder once more, hopeless to comfort him. If only he knew the bird on his shoulder would not live for much longer.. If only he knew the traces of his lover he's so diligently looking for are right under his nose...

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Hello! If your requests are open, could I please request a little something sweet with Dr Ratio?

I've just received exam results and despite all the hard work I've failed 🥲 The material is easy but my god is the professor so harsh istg- Anyway, if I could request something on this basis idea with comfort from Ratio, that would be very comforting 😭 Either way, I appreciate you and I hope you're doing ok! 💕

angélique. ⺌ my darling angel.

໒ ིྀ ͡ ⁺ veritas ratio x gender neutral reader. includes : mild angst, hurt with comfort, tenderness, the gentle way in which he loves you so.

໒ ིྀ ͡ ⁺ some notes : unedited, might contain spelling ﹠ grammar mistakes. ♡ large spacing is intended.

໒ ིྀ ͡ ⁺ liah’s notes : ahhh, cheers to my first ever requester! ‹𝟹 failing exams are never easy, moreso when you worked really hard for it >< i hope this little piece makes you smile, hehe!

to say you were in the depths of misery seemed to be an understatement.

though hardwork wasn’t always rewarded as life rarely went in the direction we want it to, the slump in your positivity could take a toll in anyone. you knew very well that there was always ‘ next time ’ but the idea of failing again has you rooted underneath the duvet of your shared bed.

you cannot fathom looking at your lover even as his footsteps quietly thud at the floor. in fact, it drives you to sink further into the mattress, in hopes it’ll swallow you whole.

a gentle hand brushes against the top of your head, featherlight in its touch. the bed sinks slightly with his weight, and you feel his warmth press against your back.

“ love, ” the scholar murmurs, none of his usual snark or wit present in his tone. it only makes your breath hitch, stubbornly facing away from him. the idea of disappointing veritas with your incompetence stings, especially with who he is. what would he think of you?

as if guessing your thoughts, the scholar leans down to press a faint kiss on your head. he stays there for a moment, before he pulls away. “ must you hide from me, love? ” a sigh, fingertips brushing against your nape, skimming across your skin.

“ what you get from one exam does not determine your intelligence nor your worth. i’ve seen you work hard for it, and perhaps you feel as if you failed … i believe it is the opposite. ” his tone remains even, his touch unfaltering.

“ you’ve learned from it, yes? you know that in order to succeed, you must push yourself further. although i believe that is not an issue due to your diligence. ” veritas ratio leans down, goosebumps rising across your skin as you feel his lips press against your nape.

“ you are perfect, love. ” he murmurs, reverence coating honeyed words. it is not often that he showers you in praises, but situations like these called for it. he wasn’t a doting lover, but he loves you. adores your existence, treats you like you are a gift from the galaxy.

veritas ratio loves you to the point of madness, to ruination — your happiness is his, your sadness is his.

another kiss against your nape renders you speechless, before he’s gently turning you around to face him. he greets you with the soft press of his lips on your forehead, to the skin underneath your eyes, to the curve of your cheeks.

“ we’ll work on this together, ” he promises, interlocking his hands with yours. he lifts it to press his lips to your knuckles, to the tips of your fingers, where love drips in his words.

“ you’re not alone. “

I'm almost at 1000 followers on here what the hell

A/N: This is based off of this post I saw on tiktok theorizing that BootHill must've died a brutal death for only his head to remain.

Content: angst, scramble drabble, she/her, female reader, BootHill needs comfort and he gets it, BootHill written prior to his release

“-Hey, hey, BootHill, breathe, my love-” Warm and cautious hands cup the cheeks of her loved one who sat shaking on the very corner of her bed. Hair messy and some fallen in small clumps from the struggle with his artificial body. “Shh, you’re with me.. there’s no one around, just me” she tries to soothe him again, worry rising like a bubble in her throat at her partner’s distress.

BootHill’s eyes flickered between red and gray, jumping around the room but once they were on her, they looked at something past her, through her. Even with half of his human body gone he wasn’t spared of the terrible memories and dreams. Every once in a while they’d come back to haunt him and drag him through all the suffering once again. Like once wasn’t enough. And in his scared stupor he didn’t rise from the bed before tugging his own hair and trashing the bed, even managing to hit her in the pure state of his delirium in attempts to pull off the ropes he felt in his nightmare.

Ragged breaths fan across her hands and she has to call out to him a few more times until she finally gets a response that he’s finally lucid. “Huh-? Huh..what?” He stumbles, hoping to summon strength to feel again, with his hands, Metal wraps itself around her wrist, squeezing then lessening its grip before squeezing again. “It’s okay.. it was just a dream.. See? Just breathe, come on.. do it with me”

Worry is etched deep between her brows and her frown in the dim light of the bedroom, but she manages to calm him down. But with each twitch of his body she regrets the lack of things she could do. She would’ve intertwined their fingers together, would’ve hugged him until he realized he was being held - but what use of it was it when he physically couldn’t feel touch? It was like explaining colors to a blind man. She might as well cry with BootHill.

But she has to stay strong, and patient above all else. She needs to be his rock at this moment. “Come.. let’s rest some more. We can just lay down for now” she leads him to lay down after her, moving his head despite his confused and pained grunt, setting his ear to her chest. Her hands go to his hair and she holds him there, just like that. And she feels his weight fall onto her, no longer resisting.  The thump of her heart draws him in until it becomes the center of his world. He sees darkness before his eyes, but hears the light of the heart kept away from him, safe behind her ribs.

It was an anxious thump, fastened with fear and lack of air, before easing into a smoother rhythm. BootHill didn’t realize he was shedding tears until her gentle fingers brushed over the edge of his eyes, prompting them to close. “ ‘m sorry..” he muttered, swallowing a breath before he nuzzles his head against her chest, shuffling so his artificial body followed the long lost habit of his past self in the form of hugging. Mechanical arms practically trap her under him, and she only hugs his head closer. This is the least she could do..

Hearing him cry into her chest broke her heart, feeling how her shirt became damp,  and hearing him murmuring apologies for every tear that fell tested her strength too. He felt broken and lost, in hatred of the fate he was forced into and the suffering he had to endure, and he couldn’t give up, for that would mean betraying you. He just had to keep moving. 

BootHill can’t betray the only person left that he loves, and that loves him in return. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Actual roman epitaph for a dog