Reverse Dating Tropes W Hsr Men!

reverse dating tropes w hsr men!

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — boothill, jing yuan, blade (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 1.5k, used up half my brain for this (the other half is for pt2 w aven sunday geppie!!), lovesick boothill + clingy jy + jealous blade fr, anyway pls enjoy! reblogs r appreciated <3

boothill ꩜ .ᐟ

love at many sights with boothill whose memory card was tinkered with, and every time you meet, he thinks he's seeing you for the first time, so he falls for you over and over again. 

when boothill returned from a dangerous mission, it was evident that he had endured significant damage. his once sleek and polished exterior was now marred by dents and scratches, and his mechanical limbs were either partially missing or severely damaged. the exposed wiring, usually neatly tucked away beneath scraps of metals, now hung in tangled strands, sparking occasionally with residual energy.

he looked barely salvageable. it's safe to say that the mechanics had a hell of a time fixing him.

though they were skilled enough to piece him back together, his memory card wasn’t as lucky. a tinkering in his system left him incapable of recalling or retaining information in his synthetic brain, temporarily —leaving the mechanics scrambling to find a solution.

weeks later, you find yourself walking down the familiar corridors of the laboratory where your favourite cyborg is being held for reparation.

boothill’s eyes immediately land on yours when you enter the lab. “well ain’t this a surprise! haven’t seen ya in a good long while.” boothill drawls, tipping his hat your way, his voice carrying a metallic twang. 

"i heard you took a bit of a tumble, figured someone should come make sure you didn’t lose all your screws." you shrug nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips.

boothill's eyes flicker for a moment, taking in the curve forming on your lips. he thinks you’re adorable with that infectious smile of yours. 

“heh, nothin’ bad, just had a r-r-run in with some cuties" he says, failing to hide the glitch that caused his voice to stutter. (and that damn synesthesia beacon! he swears he’ll get it fixed this time around…)

“guess you took more than a tumble huh...” you lean casually against the workbench, the sterile scent of machinery and the hum of various devices filled the air; your gaze sweeps over the freshly repaired parts of boothill's metallic frame, “anyway, glad to see that you’re mostly fine now." 

“aww! do ya care ‘bout me?” he teases, his grin widening, revealing his pointy teeth peeking out mischievously. you don’t reply, your eyes glinting with the faintest hint of amusement dancing in them.

"boothill, we go through this every time, your memory card's still damaged. you forget things sometimes, so for the 5th time this week, yes i do care about you.”

boothill's expression shifts, a mixture of realization and sheepishness crossing his features. "right, right," he murmurs, scratching the back of his head with his metallic hand. "sorry 'bout that, sugar. guess i just keep forgettin'."

you chuckle and shake your head, finding the situation amusing. he feels like he might overheat from the sheer warmth radiating from your smile.

“you’re beautiful, date me.” (he didn’t mean to blurt that outloud)

you raise your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, “why thank you,” a surprised laugh escapes your lips.

“—and we’re already dating, silly.”

a shower of sparks erupts from his circuits, you can particularly hear the fans inside him sputter and whir. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face.

“wh- are you okay?! you’re short circuiting again!”

and this happens every time his memory lapses. you offer an apology to the mechanic on the next shift for the extra work required to fix yet another damaged wire after your visits. perhaps they should ban you from getting too close to boothill, lest he completely breaks down again like that one time where you told him, yes you actually kissed before.

jing yuan ୭ ˚.

"secret relationship" with jing yuan but he is completely unaware of how his public displays of affection towards you keep revealing the supposed secrecy of your relationship.

on the rare case that the general is found in his office, you are there too, beside him.

“pleeeease? just one kiss, really really miss you, darling”

“no jing yuan, not now…”

“no, and get off me before someone sees!” you protest, feeling your face flush from the close proximity, and the tightening of his arms suggests that he has no intention of releasing you just yet.

he wraps his arms around you as he leans in, caging you from the back. he rests his chin on your shoulder, “then how about a kiss on the cheeks?” he murmurs in your ear. you try to push him away, but he just chuckles softly against your neck, his arms still secure around you.

this stubborn man… you swear you’re gonna burst a blood vessel someday.

as if to echo your exasperation; he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, peppering it with nibbles and gentle kisses. jing yuan certainly knows how to test your limits, yet his affectionate gestures never fail to chip away at your resolve.

suddenly, a series of loud knocks come from the door, you freeze, and immediately attempt to wiggle your way out of his grasp. but he remains unfazed, his hold on you firm, and seemingly unbothered by the interruption.

the door bursts open, “general! there’s a situation at starskiff ha—ven...”  yanqing trails off as his eyes widen at your position. the room falls into a momentary silence as yanqing's gaze shifts between you and his general, his expression reflecting a blend of shock and embarrassment.

clearing his throat awkwardly, yanqing stammers, "i-im sorry for interrupting... i’ll t-take my leave now!” with a hurried nod, he practically sprints out of the room.

oh bless that kid’s poor eyes… 

you shoot a glare at jing yuan from the corner of your eyes, you just know that he has a shit eating grin on his face right now. nowadays, it’s probably common knowledge that the general’s most treasured person is you, evidently shown by how he latches himself onto you every time you’re within his vicinity. you wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of xianzhou knows about your supposed “secret” relationship.

“so… can i have my kiss now?” 

aeons, he’s insufferable. (you love him tho!!!!!)

blade ؛ ଓ

"fake dating" with blade but you are actually dating —somehow everyone is convinced you aren't.

“blink twice if you need help.” march whispers-shout; dan heng leans against the doorway, blocking the way into your room, nods in agreement.

“this is absurd… i’m alright guys, really!” you try to reassure your friends, frustration edging into your voice. though no matter how many times you insist that no blade isn't holding you hostage and that you are indeed in a relationship with him, they seem convinced otherwise, somehow deducing that you're not able to speak freely.

you sigh in resignation, knowing that they aren’t going to relent anytime soon, and with blade idling in your room, you can't afford to keep him waiting any longer. “dan heng please, let me through, he’s been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes now…”

“good, let him wait.” dan heng responds curtly. (what a guy)

march takes hold of your hands, “do you owe the stellaron hunters something, and him out of everyone?! he looks scary…and totally not your type!” 

“not their type?” a low voice rings out from behind dan heng, the three of you turn immediately and see blade looming at your doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“stellaron hunter. stay back.” dan heng furrows his eyebrows, his stance defensive as he pulls out his weapon, positioning himself to block you and march. sensing the growing tension, you step forward, reaching out to gently grasp at dan heng’s shoulder. 

(blade’s expression darkens at your hand resting on him)

“it’s okay dan heng, he means no harm.” dan heng hesitates, his grip on his weapon remains tight, but he doesn't move to strike. so you slowly move between him and blade, “see? i’m fine… he’s not gonna hurt me.” you smile reassuringly at your friends. 

just then, as if to further aggravate dan heng, blade settles his hand on your waist. dan heng’s hand is visibly twitching now. “what? can’t i touch what’s mine?”

dan heng’s eyes narrow, “...we still don’t believe you, leave now. before it’s too late.”

before you can interject, blade grabs your chin, silencing any words of protest with a sudden kiss. caught off guard, your eyes widen as the unexpected gesture leaves you momentarily stunned. but you soon reciprocate his kiss, his intensity drawing you in.

(march quickly covers her eyes with her hands)

“there. now leave us alone.” and with that, he pulls you into your room, slamming the door shut behind, pinning you against it. 

it’s just the both of you now, finally.

“did you really have to touch him.” his voice tinged with possessiveness. “blade, he would’ve hurt you, i didn’t mean—” he shuts you up with another kiss, more desperate this time, welp guess you’re stuck with him for the night.

though your friends might not believe that a person like you would “be in cahoots” with someone as dangerous as him; convincing them otherwise is a task for another time. tonight, he wants your attention focused solely on him, and him only.

ᯓ★

masterlist

𐙚 the poets department.

— or in which i associate certain ttpd songs with (some) honkai star rail men.

— warnings: angst if you squint

— author's notes: notice how jing yuan is the only one who had a happy part? banner credits to @cafekitsune please check them out they make very pretty banners <3

𐙚  BLADE    ;    THE PROPHECY

blade has never known peace ever since his betrayal with an old friend. 

he yearns and yearns for his time to finally come. howling like a crazed wolf at the moon whenever the mara trapped in his body strikes and every time he’d gaze longingly, wishing to be taken back to time where he and his old friends would sit under the moon drinking their sorrows away. blade didn’t care if the graying hairs on his head spoke of his eventual departure; so long as his friends would remember him fondly then he’d die in peace with no complaints.

but now, every waking hour, he waits for destiny’s slave to write down his death on his script.

he was a monster, cursed to eternal loneliness,  and yet that didn’t stop you from treating him with kindness. little old you who frets over him like a nagging but loving mother. greeting him with a smile that made feelings he buried deep within his chest start to resurface.

maybe this was the “death” he’s been hoping for; blade would die from all the yearning he has for you.

all the times you would keep him company after tiring missions did his cracking heart no good. the urge to throw himself into danger just so you could patch him up; yearning for the arms that reminded him of a home that’s long gone. how he wouldn’t be ashamed to stare at you or your hands, wanting to hold them in his own calloused ones. he doesn’t shrug off the thoughts of you from his mind but he’d cut off his own arm before they could ever reach you.

in blade’s mind, you were too good for him. something he’ll come to destroy one day and he didn’t even dare to imagine how that would affect him. now, instead of waiting for destiny’s slave to write out his death, he hopes that he finds a few more reasons to stay longer, for your sake.

𐙚  DAN FENG   ;    IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

what petty rivalry you and the high elder had. always trying your best to one-up him at anything and everything but ultimately failing while dan feng laughed in amusement in your seething bitterness. but the high elder couldn’t deny the feelings of endearment whenever you show up with jing yuan and others to drink, or how you show him the new weapon yingxing had crafted for you. challenging him to another sparring session while the others watched in the sidelines with amusement.

oh how you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck when you caught wind of his plans to try and resurrect his fallen comrade, making yingxing his accomplice in the process.

the way his eyes started to crack with panic as you pulled your bowstring back and aimed an arrow straight to his heart. but dan feng knew, you knew as well, that you wouldn’t actually let the arrow go and kill him even if you say otherwise. in the end, you lowered your weapon as the high elder was escorted to the shackling prison.

before he was forced to be reborn into a new reincarnation, you visited him and how you wished to punch that knowing smile off his face. you exchange brief pleasantries before you ultimately get fed up with his nonsense. all the while you ignore the shouts of his promise in his next life.

sneak him out of the prison, run away somewhere far from the luofu or to turn your back on your first love, it didn’t matter. both choices were poison either way.

𐙚  DAN HENG   ;    PETER

how many years have passed since you thought of him? better yet, why do you still think of him? why do you feel a wave of ambivalent emotions when you see his new incarnation?

 when your eyes met for a brief moment, you had turned away quickly. muttering a soft apology to the merchant you were speaking to a moment ago as you sped walked your way back home. oh how you wish your feelings for the previous high elder would die just like him.

how you hate the way your heart replayed the days spent with him under the sun as he argued that he’d recognize you in every lifetime; the ocean deep promises to find you in every life. you wonder if he remembers you now.

by the time the sun had risen again, he was right there. just a few feet away from you while you carry documents for the master diviner. you hated the way your feet refused to move as he strides towards you, a smile you remember all too well on his face as he offered you a hairpin.

“i remembered, like i promised.”

oh how pitiful was it of you as you dropped the papers in your arms to wrap them around his neck, pulling him a tight embrace. you didn't want to admit that you had been waiting for his return, but truly, love is never lost when perspective is earned.

𐙚  JING YUAN   ;    THE ALCHEMY

it was quite a sight to behold really. the great apprentice of the luofu’s sword champion, on the ground with you pointing a wooden sword at his throat with a victorious smile.

you reveled in the compliments your peers gave you but eventually grew tired of how jing yuan would annoy to no end. you were this close to asking his master to cut him from the training sessions. but you don’t deny the way your cheeks flush after every sparring session jing yuan would win, he’d come running to you, asking if you were watching.

you’d hope that when he grew older he’d at least grow a mature bone in his body, oh how wrong you were. how was it possible that the same kid you’d beaten to a pulp would grow to be taller than you and even more annoying. 

his relentless teasing when you couldn’t land as much hits as you did when the two of you were just kids nearly sent you spiraling over the edge. poor yingxing had to listen to your rants for hours on end, sometimes even kicking you out of his workshop so he could actually get some work done.

but despite all of his annoyingness and your wishes for him to mature, you will never grow tired of him running straight towards you after every victory he’s won under his belt. jing yuan has made it known to everyone that your name was etched into his heart, and really, who were you to fight the alchemy?

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

— love is (ir)rational. ft. veritas ratio

— warnings: angst and breakups

— author's note: incredibly self-indulgent and heavily influenced by tiktoks and mitski songs. the last statement is from this article so please give it a read since its very interesting !!

to say that your relationship with veritas ratio was hanging by a thread was an understatement.

you tried your hardest to sweep every argument at night when you enter his office under the rug and prayed to the aeons that he'd forget it when morning came; you never learned how to deal with confrontation, so you did what you do best: avoid the situation entirely at all cost.

playing as the fool who couldn't see the cracks in your already fragile situation with ratio but still clinged onto the tiniest of hopes that everything will be fixed. that no argument between you two would actually leave you to split paths. you always found a way to one another, a middle ground you had unspokenly created. you always made it work. you had to make it work.

“this is not going to work, [name]!” he shouts as you fight back tears.

“you don't know that! we always make it work don't we, veritas? you can't just decide stuff like this on your own!” you argue with him the best you could, but veritas ratio was a genius. 

you will never win an argument against him.

“this is hurting us. you.” he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “we can't continue like this, and you know it.”

“then continue to hurt me.” you desperately try to claw into your lover's mind. trying to keep any piece of him because it was better to not have anything at all. “i don't care if it hurts, veritas! if it's you then it's fine, i can look past it.”

you look like a scared animal, desperate for love and the need to feel something, even if it was pain.

“we'll be fine, veritas.” you clutch onto your shirt as tears pricked your eyes. “we have to! you promised me!”

ratio was a logical man. he was a genius. someone who should've been acknowledged by nous themselves. but at this very moment, he realizes that no amount of academic knowledge will compare to the flurry of the unknown emotional wreckage that is you. someone who thinks too much of love. bewitched with the prospect of love instead of their actual partner - him.

“veritas, please… we can still make this work.”

the diplomas of his achievements were a farce; a big hoax to hide the hollowness that resides within where his heart should be.

“you and i both know that we were both too far gone to save.”

ratio closes his eyes. trying his best to rid the hurt and shrinking image of you from his mind. 

“you don't know how to love yourself.” you avoided the truth to protect yourself, he traversed the universe to make the truth known. “how can you expect me to give you the love you want when you don't even know what it is?”

what an ugly pair you two make.

“that's bullshit!” you were gasping for air. scavenging your mind to try and find a way to refute him like you always do. “i want you, veritas! do you not understand that?”

“no.” he answered with a shake of his head. “no, i do not, [name].”

you feel your already broken heart crack a little more.

“that stuff is all bullshit.” your whisper now was just above whisper. “so what if what you said is true? you loved me at least didn't you?”

veritas didn't like the way you looked at him. so full of loneliness and fear. that look didn't suit you, not in the slightest.

“that's all i needed, veritas. you loved me so much i forgot what it felt like to hate myself.”

to love means to surrender intellectual control; veritas ratio cannot rationalize love even if you told him otherwise. but there was one thing you didn't tell him - one thing you refused to tell veritas ratio.

‘if your partner has inherently good qualities, but your love for them is based on a projection of your fantasy onto them, your love does not fit the qualities of the beloved that fueled your love. your love fails to be epistemically justified.’

— [name], ????. the emotion that is love.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

— love is (ir)rational. ft. veritas ratio

— warnings: angst and breakups

— author's note: incredibly self-indulgent and heavily influenced by tiktoks and mitski songs. the last statement is from this article so please give it a read since its very interesting !!

to say that your relationship with veritas ratio was hanging by a thread was an understatement.

you tried your hardest to sweep every argument at night when you enter his office under the rug and prayed to the aeons that he'd forget it when morning came; you never learned how to deal with confrontation, so you did what you do best: avoid the situation entirely at all cost.

playing as the fool who couldn't see the cracks in your already fragile situation with ratio but still clinged onto the tiniest of hopes that everything will be fixed. that no argument between you two would actually leave you to split paths. you always found a way to one another, a middle ground you had unspokenly created. you always made it work. you had to make it work.

“this is not going to work, [name]!” he shouts as you fight back tears.

“you don't know that! we always make it work don't we, veritas? you can't just decide stuff like this on your own!” you argue with him the best you could, but veritas ratio was a genius. 

you will never win an argument against him.

“this is hurting us. you.” he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “we can't continue like this, and you know it.”

“then continue to hurt me.” you desperately try to claw into your lover's mind. trying to keep any piece of him because it was better to not have anything at all. “i don't care if it hurts, veritas! if it's you then it's fine, i can look past it.”

you look like a scared animal, desperate for love and the need to feel something, even if it was pain.

“we'll be fine, veritas.” you clutch onto your shirt as tears pricked your eyes. “we have to! you promised me!”

ratio was a logical man. he was a genius. someone who should've been acknowledged by nous themselves. but at this very moment, he realizes that no amount of academic knowledge will compare to the flurry of the unknown emotional wreckage that is you. someone who thinks too much of love. bewitched with the prospect of love instead of their actual partner - him.

“veritas, please… we can still make this work.”

the diplomas of his achievements were a farce; a big hoax to hide the hollowness that resides within where his heart should be.

“you and i both know that we were both too far gone to save.”

ratio closes his eyes. trying his best to rid the hurt and shrinking image of you from his mind. 

“you don't know how to love yourself.” you avoided the truth to protect yourself, he traversed the universe to make the truth known. “how can you expect me to give you the love you want when you don't even know what it is?”

what an ugly pair you two make.

“that's bullshit!” you were gasping for air. scavenging your mind to try and find a way to refute him like you always do. “i want you, veritas! do you not understand that?”

“no.” he answered with a shake of his head. “no, i do not, [name].”

you feel your already broken heart crack a little more.

“that stuff is all bullshit.” your whisper now was just above whisper. “so what if what you said is true? you loved me at least didn't you?”

veritas didn't like the way you looked at him. so full of loneliness and fear. that look didn't suit you, not in the slightest.

“that's all i needed, veritas. you loved me so much i forgot what it felt like to hate myself.”

to love means to surrender intellectual control; veritas ratio cannot rationalize love even if you told him otherwise. but there was one thing you didn't tell him - one thing you refused to tell veritas ratio.

‘if your partner has inherently good qualities, but your love for them is based on a projection of your fantasy onto them, your love does not fit the qualities of the beloved that fueled your love. your love fails to be epistemically justified.’

— [name], ????. the emotion that is love.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

Imagine Boothill falling for a Halovian!Reader who is somehow able to hear his thoughts loud and clear. Especially when it comes to Boothill cussing.

Usually, halovians are able to communicate with their feelings with other halovians. It was very very rare to hear direct thoughts though.

So imagine your surprise as you hear the most vile string of curses leave some robot cowboy's mouth as you're drinking a soda. The filth that pours from his lips causes you to spit your drink as you spin in your seat to stare at him with a dumbfounded expression.

"You- you can't say that! Children are here!"

Thing was? His synesthesia beacon was still tampered with, so no else could discern that he was actually cussing like a sailor.

But oh boy, when he learns that you could translate him? He practically throws an arm over you and has you speak for him when his "flowery" words aren't exactly cutting it in the conversation.

"Yeah, he says fuck you."

He pinched your waist causing you to sigh loudly.

"I mean, what he said was **** and you **** *** **** ** **** so that you can stick **** *** *** *** *** * **** *** ** **** ** ** **** ***** and your mom could *** **** **** *** *** *******"

No one ever expected for a halovian to utter such filth, but they were blinded by your pure radiance and angelic features that they were to awestruck to do anything about the string of curse words leaving your mouth as you perfectly translated Boothill's thoughts.

You mention to Wriothesley that you like his hands one evening. He doesn’t respond right away, just watches the way your delicate fingers trace over his skin, along each scar on his strong knuckles from boxing a ton and the barely noticeable healed cuts and calluses on the expanse of his large palm.

He enjoys the feeling of your touch, no matter how small and casual it makes him feel grounded. But he can’t imagine there’s anything to like about his rough, scarred, and battered hands. So naturally he’s a little curious about your comment, and a part of him believes that you’d think otherwise if you knew what he’s done with them before.

“Oh—? Is that so?” He raises an eyebrow and inquires with a chuckle as he smiles down at you. “And what’s so special about my hands?”

You offer an affectionate hum, a soft nod of your head as you make out the many reasons why his hands are special. They are nothing short of powerful and masculine—for they display the tales of his past and the result of his sentence by the judgment of the Oratrice. The scars on his body are a testament to his hardships and survival, the physical reminders of the pain and suffering he has gone through.

And yet, they show the strength of his kind heart and how he worked so incredibly hard to build a good life and make a name for himself while extending his generosity by providing comfortable living conditions in the Fortress of Meropide under his orders.

“They’ve been through so much. But they're always gentle when it matters." Wriothesley’s expression softens at your answer and he pulls you impossibly close to his chest where you’re settled on his lap, pressing a light kiss just below your earlobe. He rests his chin upon your shoulder, leaning in a little more and closing his eyes for a moment, quietly taking solace in the feeling of you in his embrace. He may be many things but the word gentle was never taken into consideration.

“Some things require a gentle hand. And they’ve learned how to treat their partner well.” There’s a teasing lilt in his voice and his fingers intertwine with yours as he slowly lifts it to kiss each one of your knuckles with the utmost care and tenderness to make his point. “You really don’t find the scars distasteful, in any way?”

You make a small noise and shake your head, and you hope he knows that you've never seen it as an issue. Because more importantly, you pay attention to how your hands fit perfectly together and how he never seems to be the one to let go first.