Honkai Star: Rail x Reader Oneshots

In the Silence Between Chaos | Aventurine, Ratio x Reader

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Romance, Fluff, Lighthearted, Playful Banter, Casual Humor, Established Relationship.

Aventurine

The steady hum of the office filled the space as Aventurine tapped his pen rhythmically against his desk, the gold nib catching the light of the green-glass lamp. Documents were scattered before him in a meticulous chaos only he could understand, numbers and risks dancing across the pages. The roulette-themed clock on the wall ticked steadily, but his focus was unshaken—until the sound of the door opening broke the monotony.

"Ah, darling," he greeted smoothly, his eyes lighting up as you stepped in. His ever-present smile softened into something more genuine. "To what do I owe this delightful interruption?"

You held up a small paper bag with a playful smirk. "Just thought you could use a break. Your assistant practically begged me to rescue you from yourself."

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Rescue me? From work? You wound me." But the way he reached for the bag betrayed his eagerness.

Inside was a small box of pastries and a note in your handwriting: For the gambler who bets on everything but sleep.

Aventurine’s laughter bubbled forth, rich and carefree. "You know me too well," he said, setting the bag aside. "But tell me—since you're here—how about we make a wager?" His eyes glinted mischievously.

"And what are we betting on this time?" you asked, crossing your arms with a smirk.

"Whether or not this pastry tastes as sweet as you."

You rolled your eyes but laughed, knowing full well you had already lost.

Dr. Veritas Ratio

The rhythmic tapping of keys filled the air in Ratio's dimly lit laboratory. Shelves lined with books, glowing screens, and complex holographic projections dominated the room. The doctor sat hunched over his desk, hair falling over his face as his fingers danced over the keyboard. He was lost in his work, eyes fixed on a glowing equation that twisted and turned in midair.

The creak of the door broke his concentration. "Veritas?" Your voice cut through the silence like a beam of light, making his head snap up.

"Ah, [Name]," he said, his sharp eyes softening as he removed his glasses and leaned back in his chair. "I wasn’t expecting visitors. Is there something urgent you need?"

You shook your head, holding up a thermos and a small container. "Not urgent, just… figured you might need a break. Thought I’d bring you some tea and snacks."

He blinked, momentarily taken aback, before letting out a low chuckle. "You’ve come to save me from myself, have you? Very well, I’ll indulge your concern." He gestured toward the nearest chair. "Sit."

Placing the thermos and snacks on the table, you watched as he poured himself a cup. His movements were precise, almost ritualistic, and you couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself with a quiet intensity.

Placing the thermos and snacks on the table, you watched as he poured himself a cup. His movements were precise, almost ritualistic, and you couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself with a quiet intensity.

You leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "What’s the problem?"

His lips curved into a small smile. "A theoretical model on multidimensional communication. Fascinating, yet infuriatingly elusive. Much like you."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Infuriating, huh? And yet here I am, bringing you tea."

"Indeed," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "You’re quite the enigma yourself. A distraction, yes, but also a source of clarity." His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat.

"Ratio," you teased, trying to lighten the mood, "are you saying I’m your muse?"

"Perhaps," he replied, a rare softness in his tone. "Or perhaps just the only person who can remind me to step away from the chaos and appreciate the simpler things."

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, the hum of machinery around you fading into the background. In that moment, it wasn’t about equations or theories—it was about the connection you shared, grounding him in a way no academic pursuit ever could.