Hi! I saw your work on Hsr fics while hunting down for Dan Heng ones. They were very cute & sweet!
I saw that requests were open so l thought I might give it a shot.
Can I have a scenario where the reader is being affectionate toward a friend & giving them headpats as a sign of affection as a friend but it really bugs the character so they ended up being clingy as a result. Much to the reader’s flustered state. Which they express that they express that they love the reader & want to be the one to have their affection. Maybe be a little possessive if you’re comfortable writing that but mainly clingy with jealous sprinkled in there. 😋
I specifically want it with Dan Heng but I don’t mind other characters you like to place them in there. Maybe with aventurine, Caelus & Boothill? You can add more if you like depending how this prompt fit with any character in starrail.
Look forward to seeing it! If you get to it! Thank you!! ^^
“I’ll Take What’s Mine—And That’s You”
Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Caelus x Reader, Fluff, Jealousy, Clinginess, Mild Possessiveness, Confession, Romantic Undertones, Light Teasing, Protective Behavior, Soft Moments, Slight Embarrassment, Emotional Vulnerability, Affectionate Gestures, Headpats.
The rhythmic click of the train’s movement was almost lulling you to sleep as you sat with March. She was rambling animatedly about her latest set of photos, her hands waving in excitement. You couldn’t help it — she looked so happy that your hand drifted to her head, giving her a few light pats as you smiled.
“Good job, March,” you teased fondly. “You really nailed those shots.”
She beamed under the attention, leaning in for more.
What you didn’t notice — or rather, didn’t expect — was the faint shadow that fell across the room. Dan Heng was leaning against the doorway, book in hand, though his eyes were nowhere near the pages. His gaze lingered on your hand resting on March’s head far longer than it should have.
When March scampered off to fetch another stack of photos, Dan Heng approached silently, stopping in front of you.
“…You’re generous with your affection today,” he said evenly, though there was a subtle tightness in his voice.
You blinked. “Uh… I guess? March was just—”
Without warning, he sat down beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. He tilted his head slightly, the faintest frown pulling at his lips.
“If you’re going to give out headpats,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that your breath caught, “I’d prefer to be the one receiving them.”
Your face warmed instantly. “Dan Heng—?”
He didn’t wait for you to recover. One of his hands lightly caught yours, guiding it up to rest on his head. The movement was subtle but purposeful, his eyes closing as if committing the moment to memory.
“You… mean a lot to me,” he said quietly. “More than a friend should. I don’t want to share this with anyone else.”
The steady beat of your heart drowned out the train’s rhythm. You couldn’t tell if you were more flustered by his closeness or the blunt confession — maybe both.
When you hesitated, he opened his eyes, expression still calm but tinged with something vulnerable. “…Please. Just me.”
You laughed as you reached up to ruffle Himeko’s hair. “There. Now you’re even more perfect.”
Himeko chuckled, raising a brow at you. “Careful, Caelus might get jealous.”
“Jea—?” you started, but before you could finish, the man in question stepped into the lounge with a strangely serious look.
His usual calm presence felt… different. He crossed the space in a few strides, stopping right beside you, his silver hair catching the warm light. Without a word, he bent slightly so his head was within reach, his eyes meeting yours.
“…I didn’t get one,” he said softly.
“One what?” you asked, heat already creeping up your neck.
“A headpat.” The simplicity of the answer nearly knocked the breath out of you. “If you’re giving them out, I want mine first. Always.”
Before you could reply, his gloved hand found yours, gently but firmly tugging it toward him. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the leather as he pressed your palm to his head, closing his eyes like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You laughed nervously. “You’re really—”
“—Serious,” he finished, opening his eyes. The sincerity there was almost overwhelming. “I love you. I don’t want to just watch from the side while you give your affection to everyone else. Let me have it. All of it.”
The firmness in his tone was softened by the faint blush dusting his cheeks. You didn’t think Caelus could be clingy until now, but the way he stayed close — refusing to let go of your hand — told you he wasn’t about to back down.
It started innocently. You and Topaz were talking in the corner, and she’d made a joke so perfectly ridiculous that you reached out and patted her head with a grin. “You’re unbelievable.”
She laughed, clearly pleased, but the sharp click of shoes approaching cut through your amusement.
“Well, well,” Aventurine drawled, stepping into view with that ever-present smile. “Handouts today, are we?”
You narrowed your eyes. “Handouts?”
“Affection,” he said smoothly, his eyes glinting. “And here I thought I was your favorite investment.”
Before you could fire back, he was already at your side, an arm sliding around your shoulders like it belonged there. The faint scent of his cologne was dizzying, and the closeness made your pulse stutter.
“If you’re giving out headpats,” he continued, tilting his head so the light caught in his glasses, “I’d like my returns immediately. With interest.”
You laughed, flustered. “Aventurine, it’s not—”
“—It is,” he interrupted, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Because I love you, sweetheart. And I’m not in the mood to share. Not with her, not with anyone.”
His words were teasing on the surface, but the steel in his gaze made your breath hitch. He caught your wrist and guided your hand to his hair with almost theatrical flourish, leaning in just enough that his hat nearly brushed your forehead.
“There,” he murmured. “Now, we’re even… though I’ll be expecting regular deposits.”
His smile widened when you tried to look away, clearly enjoying every second of your fluster.
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Reader who's the s/o of ratio but is meek and soft-spoken, basically the complete opposite of him. They face judgment and scorn because most people think they're not good enough for a genius like him. Every time they're treated poorly, ratio ofc defends them and every time, ratio receives a soft thank you in return, their gratitude expressed through physical affection that is reserved for him and only him. Please and thank you ^^
“The Genius and the Gentle”
Summary: In a universe where intellect is everything, you're the quiet, soft-spoken partner of the brilliant and confident Dr. Ratio. While others judge your worth beside his, Ratio never hesitates to defend you. Though your voice is quiet, your love speaks volumes—through tender thanks and affection reserved for him alone.
Tags: Ratio x Reader, Protective Ratio, Soft-spoken Reader, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Verbal Defensiveness, Affectionate Gestures, Public Judgment, Quiet Strength, Ratio being a smug, romantic nerd, Reader is baby (affectionate not literally).
Warnings: Mild emotional distress (public judgment), Strong language (Ratio being Ratio), Fluff with slight angst overtones.
You were quiet by nature. Words tended to catch on your tongue, slipping out softly and only when necessary. You preferred the hush of libraries to the bustle of lecture halls, the gentle murmur of rain over the sharp strike of debate. It was no surprise people found it hard to believe you were with him.
Dr. Veritas Ratio. A storm of intellect, wit, and unshakable confidence. The universe’s most renowned scholar, with piercing eyes that saw through facades and a mind sharper than obsidian.
And yet… his gaze softened for you.
You stood a little behind him at a symposium, fingers fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. You could hear the murmurs around you—the thinly veiled condescension.
"Why would someone like Dr. Ratio choose them?"
"They look like they belong in a library corner, not beside the brightest mind of our era."
You shrunk inwards.
Ratio was mid-conversation with a fellow guild member when he heard it. He didn’t glance your way—he didn’t have to. He had already heard enough.
He turned, cutting across the conversation with surgical precision.
"You should silence your tongue before it reveals the full extent of your ignorance," he said, voice cold and lethal.
The group fell quiet, eyes darting between him and you. You met his gaze hesitantly. That sharp intensity was for others. Never for you.
Ratio closed the distance between you and brushed his knuckles lightly against yours—subtle, hidden from others, but grounding.
"You judge a soul by the volume of their voice. I judge by the depth of their thoughts," he declared, loud enough for everyone to hear. “And they,” he added, his tone warmer now, “have more depth in a single quiet glance than most of you could ever muster in a lifetime of speeches.”
Your heart thudded.
Later, away from the crowd, tucked into a quiet alcove beneath the stars, you whispered, “Thank you.”
It was the same each time—simple words, spoken like a secret. But your hands would slip around his waist, or your fingers would gently trace the edge of his jaw, reverent and intimate.
Only he ever saw you like this—affectionate, bold in softness.
Ratio let out a slow exhale, cupping your face in his hands as if cradling something precious and rare. “You don’t have to thank me for defending what is already mine,” he murmured.
You leaned into his touch, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm. “Still… thank you. For seeing me.”
His gaze burned, not with fury this time, but with fierce devotion.
“I always will.”
And no matter how many stars sang his name, Dr. Ratio remained a man who would burn down galaxies for your quiet heart—and you, you would always be his soft-spoken anchor in the noise of the universe.
hii! Can you please write about anaxa and ratio with a partner who has fluffy wings that likes to wrap them around in them :D
Of Feathers and Formulas
Tags: Ratio x Reader, Anaxa x Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Soft Moments, Winged Reader, Affectionate Gestures, Emotional Vulnerability, Intellectuals in Love.
It was late—far past the hour where the stars blurred into academic scatterplots and theories spun themselves into dreams. Ratio sat with legs crossed at the edge of his observatory desk, his coat draped on the back of his chair and sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing the faint golden glow of his arm bracers. His notes were scattered, illuminated under the cold-blue starlight funneling through the domed ceiling above.
You padded in silently behind him, your feathers rustling softly like wind through parchment. The sound broke the symphony of scribbles and thought.
“Again?” you asked softly, voice laced with amusement. “You said you’d rest tonight.”
He didn’t glance back. “I say many things. Only a few are worth committing to memory.”
You hummed and stepped forward until your shadow joined his. The moment your wings began to unfurl, Ratio’s pen stilled. You wrapped them around him—silken, warm, slightly shimmering under starlight—enclosing him in a gentle cocoon of feathers.
He stiffened at first, always so precise, always so composed, but the edges of his poise softened under your touch.
“I’ll forget this formula,” he murmured, but didn’t move to escape.
“You won’t,” you whispered. “You never forget anything. But you do ignore things worth remembering.”
Your fingers brushed his shoulder, and he sighed—not irritated, but almost... humbled. “A shame," he said dryly. "A brilliant intellect, undone by down feathers."
You giggled and leaned close, resting your chin on his shoulder from behind. “Even the greatest minds need warmth, Veritas.”
He turned his head slightly, enough for his eyes to meet yours. “Perhaps. But not all warmth is irrational.”
There was something reverent in the way he leaned back into your wings. The alabaster sculpture that often hid his face rested untouched on the desk. For now, there was no need for masks. Only the brush of feathers, the hush of thoughts, and a genius who—just this once—allowed himself to be wrapped in something far less logical, and far more human.
The lab smelled faintly of incense, ink, and ozone—the remnants of a recent experiment Anaxa had abandoned when he heard your wings.
You always approached with the breeze; even when silent, your presence filled the room like spring sunlight on ruined marble.
He looked up from a scroll of cursed diagrams, his eyes flashing under lamplight. “Back already? I thought the sky was calling to you.”
You stepped in, smiling as your wings folded slightly inward. “It was. But it’s warmer here.”
He quirked a brow, brushing a loose strand of hair from his face. “With me? That’s a curious notion. Most would say I burn too close to madness for comfort.”
You laughed, already making your way to him. “You burn, yes. But you also glow. And I like the fire.”
He tried to hide his expression, but his shoulders slackened. You reached out, wrapping your wings around him with all the grace of twilight mist. He didn’t resist—he never did when it was you.
He leaned into the embrace, and for a moment, his usual biting sarcasm slipped away like shed skin.
“You shouldn’t do this,” he whispered. “Not to me. I’m... I’m dangerous to believe in.”
You pulled him closer, the warmth of your feathers pressing to his back, your voice gentle against the shell of his ear. “And I’m stubborn when it comes to lost causes.”
He let out a shaky chuckle, burying his face in your feathers now, as if they could shield him from the ghosts of failed experiments and dying stars. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered.
“I’m your idiot,” you replied.
He turned in your arms, his hand brushing along your wing with the tenderness of someone who’d known too much loss. “Then don’t fly away.”
You smiled, touching his eyepatch gently. “Only if you promise not to burn alone.”
In the glow of flickering candles and the rustle of feathers, Anaxagoras—the Great Heretic, the Mad Scholar, the Foolish—let himself believe. Just for a moment. Just for you.
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