Summary: How the Hsr Men act when they’re in love with you!—pre-established relationship

Extra Information: This is the 4th Part of this series— feel free to check out the first 3 Parts on my blog!

(C)W: gn reader, not beta read and english isn’t authors first language, possibly ooc as it’s been a while since i‘ve played hsr (i'm getting back into it), reader is a stellaron hunter in blade‘s part—nevertheless please enjoy!

Blade:

-would deny that he harbors any sort of romantic feelings towards you— to others, himself and anyone who‘s speculating

-Silver Wolf and especially Kafka would be teasing him about it 24/7

-would try to keep you away from any dangerous missions even if it’s impossible due to the inevitability of evading the actions written in the script

-overall pretty quiet about it, but ultimately not unnoticeable as you would never escape his yearning gaze whenever you set out for a new mission (i imagine he has some attachment issues after everything that happened with the high clout quintet)

Boothill:

-would become more clumsy, awkward & shy around you and probably (try to but fail miserably at it) cuss himself out afterwards

-is definitely the type to check you out (does it shamelessly too)

-until you bring it up to him (and maybe even try to flirt) —then he’s a blushing mess once again

-probably doesn’t take a lot of time for him to confess (not that he really had to y‘know, you always knew)

authors note: that’s all— i’m sorry this is so short (つ .•́ _ʖ •̀.)つ please forgive me

Artwork by: @ srro_yo on Twitter/X

Blade x reader

A/N: May have grammatical errors bc I wrote this at like 4am. This was written with Mort. Blade in mind :)

Tw: not much but mentions of being sad and little dirty on the last one.

Blade always makes sure to answer your texts as fast as he can. Because he loves you, obviously. But mainly because he’s worried that you might send something suggestive and one of the girls might get their hands on his phone before he can take a look and stow it away privately. (It’s almost happened, once. He managed to save it in a private album immediately.)

You try not to message him too much when he’s on important missions. If you do, he’ll naturally assume it’s something significant.

So of course he immediately reaches for his phone in the middle of one such operation when he hears it ping with the special sound effect he’s kept for you. Unfortunately, the sound alerts his foe—and Blade gets a bullet to the heart before he can dodge the otherwise-avoidable snipe.

…Blade awakens with a jolt a few minutes later, dark red staining his shirt, the bullet having been expelled from his body thanks to his curse. His heart beats relentlessly like it always has for centuries. His fingers had instinctively curled around his phone in protectiveness, so no damage there, luckily.

He wipes the blood away from the screen and hastily taps on your message, ignoring the pounding in his head. Please be safe, please be safe…

Oh, that’s a good idea! I might make a mini series of this but here’s what I can think of on the spot:

Self aware!Blade who appreciates you still using him as your main DPS, even despite all the newer, shinier ones being released every other month…truly, your loyalty to him is unparalleled. How can he not adore you?

Self aware!Blade who patiently waits for you every day. Even just doing dailies with you for two minutes a day is one well spent. He’ll clear alllll the mobs you want just to make sure you get nice relics…but maybe he’ll ensure those relics are still subpar, just so he can prolong this grind with you. The longer you rely on him, the better.

Self aware!Blade who feels like he needs to hit harder, be stronger because you seem to keep replaying this endgame stage…possibly for a 0-cycle? He’ll crit for you, he always makes sure to land a crit no matter what his crit rate looks like—but upping the damage, hm. It’s tricky. He’ll swing harder. Harder. If an attack is miraculously directed away from him, he’ll jump in front of it nonetheless to get a stack so he can unleash his talent faster. All for you.

Oh, you might not be paying attention to his stats, but there’s somehow…an increase in his crit damage? It’s about 25% more than it used to be. You’ll keep using him, right? He’ll hit harder just for you.

Self aware!Blade who realises you’re relying on him to farm materials for other characters you intend to build. What a pain…but he can’t just turn up with zero yields, so he begrudgingly cooperates with you. It’s okay. You’ll see how the latest characters are boring anyway and return to good ol’ Bladie, won’t you?

Self aware!Blade who wonders if you know that the original Blade and Mortenax Blade are two separate entities even if they are fundamentally the same person. And original Blade does not enjoy the smug look on Mortenax Blade’s face when he gets picked for the team over him. The new, shiny toy that’s dominating everything in the game… Self aware!Blade needs to hit harder, then.

Look, look. His crit damage has gone up another 50% all on its own! Will you pay attention to him now? You will keep using him, right?

Self aware!Blade, the original one, who feels like you’re slowly forgetting about him just because his future self seems to shower you with more attention. But the original can’t try and make up for it because the game does not call for two Blades at once. So perhaps he should look to more methods of getting stronger so you can pay attention to him again…

Self aware!Blade who decimates your 50/50s eagerly, because more eidolons equals more power, and more power equals more attention, right? So why…why are you disappointed that you lost your 50/50 to him? You should be smiling, right? Shouldn’t you be relieved?

Oh, if only those people saw his average interactions with you.

“Guess what, Bladie!” You bound over to your dear old Blade, grinning. “I learned something pretty interesting today. Did you know that in an average person’s entire lifespan, they spend about a year’s worth of time on the toilet? Sometimes even a year and a half for those who take longer dumps!”

Blade blinks, looking up from the blueprint he’d been focused on. He frowns, confusion seeping into his handsome face. “That long?”

You nod. “I’m sure you can run the calcs yourself, but it makes sense to me! Which means that…given your lifespan, you’ve probably spent at least eight years and counting on the toilet. With more time to be wasted in the loo the longer you live!”

“I cannot have wasted so much time,” Blade scoffs. “It sounds erroneous.”

You shrug and say, “That’s just what I read, thought it was interesting enough to share,” before skipping away and leaving him to his devices.

Thinking about blade with a reader who draws. Def not me or anything 🥺 especially focusing on how they both create now like.. bro imagine drawing out some design of some weapon or maybe something else idfk.. and blade making blueprints of it with you ouugghh couple activity goals fr

oh gosh yes! allow me to take this a somewhat silly route-

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In different ways, both you and Blade are artists. You draw brilliant pictures—portraits, landscapes, abstract ideas, really anything that strikes your fancy, and Blade crafts weapons and everyday items for use.

So while your creations are limited to the paper, Blade has the ability to bring them to life on the anvil. It starts simple: you show him your ideas for new swords, and Blade studies the drawings and expands upon them through blueprints of his own.

“Close enough?” he’d ask you, gripping a sleek fencing sword in one arm that he’d just made from one of your sketches.

You’d grin and nod, touched that he’d even bothered to take the time and effort to bring your art to life. It had been a simple drawing, but it means a lot to you. “It’s a perfect copy.”

But of course, you want to push the boundaries further and see just how well your Bladie can rise to the challenge.

You approach him with a new drawing of yours eagerly. “Look here, Blade, it’s a sword that can spew flames for long-range attacks!” You hold up the drawing proudly. “Bet you can’t do that in reality.”

If you were expecting him to concede to that, you would be sorely mistaken, for Blade peers at the drawing, nose slightly scrunched in concentration, calculations evidently running behind his crimson eyes. Then, he leans back and nods.

“It would have to be a longsword or a claymore rather than a slim sword, but I can certainly affix an ignition core into it that generates flames based on the user’s kinetic energy.” He delves some more into the specifics of it, much to your enthusiasm, and so—

It’s no surprise when he does turn up with a flame-spewing longsword only a couple days later, his chin held high in pride.

Now it feels like a competition. You get to work drawing more inane weapons: a lightning-summoning boomerang, a sword that traps its foes in shadowy tendrils, and a bow that can summon snowstorms with a pluck of its string—that in particular should be impossible, right?

anyways I have a request if they're still open!

Bladie with a gn s/o that has wings. Pretty big ones. They're soft and warm.

He helps reader preen and clean their feathers and ends up falling asleep with his face in them because they're warm (..also maybe cuddles and kisses)

I think he'd be gentle with them tbh knowing that they're sensitive as heck

Thank u thank u anon! I try :]

As requested, Bladie with a winged s/o~

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“You always do so much for me, Bladie.”

You tilt your head to gaze affectionately at your lover, who’s clasping an artificial beak-shaped comb he made himself for this very purpose. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from your wings, his brows slightly pinched in concentration. He hums in response.

“It’s nothing.” He continues preening your feathers with the care of a surgeon, one by one, making sure all the dirt is purged. There isn’t much to begin with, because Blade is always oh-so-meticulous when it comes to grooming your wings, but it’s a process he enjoys nonetheless. He’s the one who offers to do it before you even have to ask.

Smiling, you close your eyes and start to hum a tune you’re particularly fond of. It goes well with the delicate rhythm of his fingers softly stroking and cleaning your wings, and Blade, recognising the tune, finds himself humming along quietly as well.

You’ve never counted the feathers your wings are made up of, but there’s certainly so many. Anyone else would do more of a desultory preening, aiming for the feathers that seem visibly dirty, but not Blade. Patience has been his companion for centuries, and it’s evident in moments like these. Using the same meticulous methods for each individual feather, a slow and purposeful brush along the length of each, until he’s certain not a modicum of dust remains.

“A couple of feathers are loose. I’m going to remove them.” A pause as he kneels on one leg behind you. “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

He says that every time, and every time you don’t feel a thing because he’s just so—so tender with you. So you nod and let him deal with the loosed feathers, fingers slowly, deliberately pulling at the ones slightly jutting out. As always, you don’t feel a thing, but Blade still pauses after each one just to make doubly sure.

“Keep going,” you urge him. “I’m not that fragile, you know!”

As a swordsmith, being meticulous runs in his blood—although where smithing requires precise strikes, this calls for quite the opposite. And he does it so well, you have to wonder if there’s anything he cannot do.

Finally, Blade is done. He sets the comb down and strokes your wings, almost pietistic in his ministrations, wonderment at these glossy appendages of yours. Soft, shiny, warm, and so so comforting. For both you and him.

Wordlessly, he moves round to your front and kisses your forehead, gathering you in his arms, his fingers still idly running through your clean feathers as he does.

“Thank you, Bladie.” You hug him back just as tight, enjoying the moment in such close contact; you barely notice when he shifts you so that you’re both laying down.

“You’re always welcome, flower.” He peppers your face in little kisses, his hands finding your wings once again, unable to resist their softness. You almost purr as he continues to caress them, folding them over yourself so he can have better access.

Blade, pleased, half-clambers over you so his head rests on them, that pillowy bed of feathers just for him, and he begins to kiss them as well, relishing in the occasional giggle he elicits from you.

He stays there, his hands moving slower and more languidly with each passing moment, until he’s gone still, save for the steady beat of his heart against you, palpable.

Your smile widens as you stroke his hair, his face buried there among your shiny, freshly-preened feathers. He’s gone and fallen asleep like this again.