You and me. Us.
pairing. Aventurine x fem!reader cw/genre. angst, confused thoughts and feelings, insecurity. synopsis. You didn't feel right, so after keeping it to yourself, you decided to talk it over with him. masterlist
Despite him being a loving and attentive boyfriend, something was troubling him internally.
It could be his senses telling him that something "bad" was happening, like a premonition.
For your part, there was no change, you were still stuck to him, as always.
So after about 2 months, he decided to ignore that strange worried feeling inside him.
However, one night you saw him pacing back and forth, muttering some words under his breath.
When he seemed to notice you, he stopped what he was doing and approached you.
"I can't stop thinking about it.. something's going to go wrong, I just feel it. Maybe I'm being paranoid."
It was unlike you to see him with this sort of anxious energy.
You reached out to him, squeezing his hand gently. He looked up at you and gave a smile of appreciation, but the tension in his eyes persisted.
"You know it's normal to get tense, right?" You tried to make your words comforting and soft. "Everything is going to be okay, honey."
Despite not knowing his thoughts in detail or being able to put yourself in his place at that moment, you tried to comfort him.
He let out a sigh that seemed to expel all of his worries. His grip on your hand was tight enough for you to be able to sense his anxiety.
He pressed his forehead towards yours, his eyes closed tight.
You wondered what was going through his mind.
He couldn't bring himself to look at you during this moment.
His thumb gently brushed your hand, his eyes slightly clenched as he was about to tell you something, but hesitated.
It seems to be hard for him to get out what he was trying to say.
So he opted to squeeze your hand and bury his face into your chest.
You let a smile grace your face, despite his tense aura.
You understood him enough to know that whatever he was going through right now was something beyond your knowledge.
You comforted and supported him by wrapping your arms around him, kissing his head, and rubbing his back.
He looked grateful as your tender words of comfort helped him relax.
It was a nice moment of intimacy. It wasn't always a situation like this between the two of them, but there was never a problem comforting each other.
The affection and love that both had for each other was very enviable, they fit together so well in any situation.
Your fingers found their way onto his chin, gently lifting his head up so that he could meet your gaze.
His face was soft and expressive even when feeling down.
Even in the midst of trouble, he could always find a ray of hope with you.
He didn't say a word, but the feeling of your thumb rubbing his chin could be interpreted as "everything will be alright".
You both stayed close throughout the rest of the night.
It was an unproblematic night of rest for the both of you, he slept comfortably next to you, and you watched over him, feeling safe.
As the weeks went by, the one who started to feel bad was you.
Physically bad.
First came the nausea and dizziness, which you managed to hide perfectly from Aventurine.
At one point you thought you were sick and that these symptoms would eventually go away. However, that didn't happen, the symptoms remained, which worried you.
"…" From the way you felt, you suspected it from the first moment.
You sat on the bed, your legs a little weak from the shock, staring at the pregnancy test.
The minutes of waiting felt like hours. The intrigue was killing you.
Until finally you could see for yourself, your suspicions were right. You were pregnant.
You didn't know how to feel, you didn't know whether to be excited or worried.
However, a smile grew on your face, and you hugged the test closer to yourself.
So what if you weren't ready? For you this was something to be happy about.
But all you could think about was the moment you'd tell him.
He would be happy with this news, right?
Despite the pregnancy, life carried on, and so did you.
The symptoms you've been experiencing were unpleasant but tolerable. The nausea was still there, and you still felt dizzy, but you did your best to get through it.
As for the pregnancy, you tried to tell Aventurine once or twice. But you just… didn't feel ready yet. You wanted the perfect moment to drop that bomb on him, but that perfect moment felt like it never came.
You looked at Aventurine's sleeping form.
Should you tell him the news?
He looked so peaceful.
Perhaps you should wait for the right moment, the right time.
You laid there, not wanting to wake him, feeling a sense of anticipation inside. Even after the physical symptoms subsided slightly, your mind was full of worries.
"What if he doesn't want children now?"
"What if he thinks we're not ready?"
"He wouldn't leave me, would he?"
You wanted to push these worries aside and focus on the good things, but your mind wandered.
You didn't realise when it was that he had already woken up and was looking at you for a while.
You came out of your thoughts when you felt his hands caressing your face.
"Darling, what's wrong?" His voice was soft, not wanting to scare you.
For your part, you felt relaxed at his touch.
He continued to stroke your face, his hands eventually finding their way into your hair and gently combing it as he spoke,
"… Are you okay…?"
He sounded slightly worried.
"Mhm." After making a sound of affirmation, you clung to him, keeping your head buried to his chest.
"…" Once you were close to him, he continued to stroke your hair gently, not speaking, just wanting to listen to your breathing for a moment.
He rubbed your back in an attempt to soothe you, despite not knowing what was wrong. After a moment of silence, you broke it by speaking.
"I'm pregnant…" You blurted out. Your words were somewhat muffled by the fact that your face was in his chest.
His body tensed as soon as the words left your mouth.
"You're… pregnant?"
His hands stopped moving as an overwhelming sense of shock and fear came over him.
You thought he would be happy with that type of news but what you got was something different.
"…" Your boyfriend couldn't get his mind to respond, his face expressionless as he processed your words.
You let out a sigh as you waited for his words of response. He slowly pulled you away from his chest and stared straight into your eyes, almost as if studying your expression.
After another long pause, he spoke.
"You're… you're sure…?"
Your response was a confident nod.
He was quiet for a while.
"…" He could barely process what you'd just told him.
This was not the response you were expecting.
However, he still didn't move, not even a slight twitch of emotion on his face.
Silence.
His eyes wandered away from you, looking at the ceiling.
He was deep in internal crisis, feeling overwhelmed with all sorts of different thoughts.
At this moment, anxiety and nervousness flooded your system. The situation that had gone quiet too long was something that made you uncomfortable.
You waited.
He still wasn't speaking.
After another few minutes of staring at the ceiling, he finally opened his mouth.
"… I need time to think about this, dear" He said, his voice as serious as you had ever heard it before.
Before he got up, he ruffled your hair gently. Then he got out of the bed and went to the bathroom without another word or a glance thrown in your direction.
A feeling of rejection began to fill your heart as the bathroom door closed, leaving you all alone.
Your stomach dropped at the unexpected response. The fact that he requested time to digest what you had just told him made you increasingly anxious. Your fingers fiddled with the bedsheet, you were thinking too.
Is he angry with you for getting pregnant?
Is he just scared?
Why did he react like that instead of showing happiness like you thought he would?
The questions were countless, each one creating an increasing sense of insecurity within you.
But not only insecurity, but also sadness.
You couldn't help but think that this would be the breakup of your relationship, also due to the fact that you would have to raise your child alone.
It was a little too much for you to make those kinds of ideas and thoughts.
From one moment to the next you felt your cheeks wet. You didn't bother to dry them, you stayed leaning on the pillow, trying to disappear at that moment.
Your emotions were not very rational, being 4 months pregnant was hard.
On the other hand, Aventurine was locked in the bathroom.
He had a range of emotions inside of him.
Fear, anxiety, frustration, worry.
He took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror.
You were the love of his life, so he knew that there was no way he would leave you. But that didn't change the fact that he was terrified right now.
After a while of crying and waiting, you finally noticed the bathroom door slightly open.
Aventurine was still very far from calm. His face seemed still tense, but he was much more relaxed than before.
"Honey…" His voice was gentle, he came to sit next to you and started running his hand down your back again, trying to soothe you.
You were with your head buried in the pillow and with the blanket covering your entire body.
His touch gave you comfort, his presence reassured you.
"Please look at me, darling." he insisted, his thumb tracing the outline of your face.
You did as he said, you slowly turned your head and looked at him, he was smiling slightly, which surprised you.
"Come here." he took you in his arms, placing you on top of his lap.
Your eyes slowly closed, you let out a small sigh as you began to relax, and your mind started to settle.
While you sat on his lap, he brushed his hand through your hair, not speaking.
You buried your face into his shoulder and let him do his thing, it was calming.
"I'm sorry." His voice was soft as he continued to comb through your hair.
"It was stupid of me to react like that." He said, letting out a tired sigh.
His words soothed you.
You kept quiet for a moment, not knowing if you should answer him or not.
By the time you were going to answer him, Aventurine spoke again.
"I'm just…scared." As he spoke, his voice cut off at the end. His arms wrapped around you as if you were going to slip away from his grasp at that moment.
After a while, you broke away from his grip, you lifted your head off his shoulder and went to grab his face, placing it in your hands. You looked into his eyes and tried to get a glimpse of what was going on inside of him, but it was hard to read.
Your face was worried, no matter how much you tried to get an idea of what was going on in his head, you couldn't figure it out.
In his eyes there was a hint of tears beginning to fill little by little. Not to mention the expression he had on his face, it was something that surprised you, you had rarely seen him like that.
"Can I ask why, darling?" You tried to sound as cautious and gentle as possible, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.
His eyes closed as soon as you touched him.
When you asked your question, he was silent for a few seconds before speaking very softly.
It was like he was fighting to hold himself together to keep himself from breaking from the flood of emotions.
"You know what my childhood was like, how they killed all of my race, I—" He took some time to stop his voice from breaking up again.
You, with the greatest delicacy in the world, wiped away the fine tears that fell from his eyes. You didn't rush him to speak, you simply listened to him, letting him know you were there.
"I don't want this baby to suffer. Who knows what they life will be like when they grows up? We don't know if they could have the same luck that I had…" His voice faded into a silent murmur, unable to continue talking.
He was trembling slighty, his body seemed to be unable to hold all of the distress that was eating at his mind.
After he spoke, you held him close to you, your arms embraced him tightly, so he could cry, if he needed it, without feeling uncomfortable.
You rubbed his back gently to keep him calm, you knew that the moment that you were in was very delicate and that he needed your attention and support.
You let him get his thoughts out of his system.
His insecurities were very understandable.
It did not seem to be a problem of not wanting the baby, but rather a problem of fear and anxiety about what life the child might have.
You understood him perfectly, he had lived through a lot in his life and did not want to put that on his baby.
In front of you, you could see the man who was so confident, crumble into a pile of fears and insecurities. Insecurities that he don't let other people see.
"Mhm, you're right, my love. We don't know what will become of they future." Your voice was quiet, as if it were a lullaby to calm him down.
"I also know that that you are very afraid that they will go through the same thing as you. There, unfortunately you were alone…but now you have me." You could almost hear him holding back his sobs.
"The baby will have you and me. And I know we will make sure this child was the happiest and most protected by us."
With that, he stopped holding back his sobs, letting them out. As he clung to your chest, finding the comfort he longed for.
All he heard were your words, words that calmed him down like the sound of a song.
You held him close and comforted him, as if he was a child needing a gentle voice to help him fall asleep.
His head rested on your chest while your arms were wrapped around him.
"…" His breathing started to slow down, the tension was slowly being drained out of his body.
You could feel the softness of his body and his soft hiccups.
"Mhm.." He let out a sound, while with one of his hands, he wiped his wet cheeks.
You continued to stroke his hair and comfort him.
Love and affection.
"I love you." he spoke, his voice still trembling, but not with anxiety this time. "I love you so much."
The weight that seemed to be on his shoulders lifted, even if just a little, as the fear that had been tormenting him was starting to melt away.
He broke away from your grip a little and turned to face you, then he looked at you.
"I love you both." He said as he placed a hand on your belly.
The love he had in his gaze was undeniable. With his hand on your belly, the reality you were living felt much more real.
You smiled at him, and placed your hand over his, keeping it placed against your belly.
"We love you too, my dear."
©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify
Aventurine is attracted to men. Women who delude themselves into thinking he liked them makes me laugh
Oh my, thats a bunch of pixels on your screen, you're getting really worked up over someone liking a character, which is even more comical than "women who delude themselves into thinking he liked them", i truly feel like your barrier between reality and fiction is blending together. No one is thinking that aventurine likes them he's a fictional character, people are having fun and enjoying a character they like, please stop with this nonsense.
Where does it state that he's into men? Nowhere right. Keep your headcanon to yourself, and keep negative comments off my page.
You should go outside and enjoy the nice spring weather instead of growing hatred, I genuinely think it would help you grow a more positive mindset and learn to love yourself and enjoy things without putting other people down.
:}
Original artist: こえだ (koeda) ll twitter
Source: here ll chinese ver.
🍒 Please do not repost! 🍒
Read from right to left!
Keep reading
i just finished the island quest today and i was just thinking,, pegging albedo on a beach or smth at night and you’re at one of the island further away from the camps so he can be as loud as he wants. head empty, just albedo’s screams 😳😳
gn!reader + beach sex (empty island) + anal penetration + handjob + overstimulation.
"W-What if someone hears," He bites back a groan, you two were having sex right here on the beach of Minacious Isle, out in the open as if it were nothing. You coo softly, rubbing small circles into his hips with your thumbs, slowly sliding into him further.
"There isn't anybody around for miles, it's just you and me on this island, nobody is gonna hear a thing, so just let it all out, okay? If you hold back," you lean forward, chest pressed against his back, lips right by his ear. "Then I'll have no choice but to coax each and every," you slowly pull out, "sound out of you!" You thrust back in deeply, and he gasps, moaning and rolling his eyes back at the pleasant warmth that suddenly exploded in his gut. "See? You sound so pretty~" You chirp, "Now scream for me, baby boy."
With that your thrust only became more impatient, wanting to hear him scream— he didn't hold back a single moan, his throat going raw at how much he was screaming and moaning for you. Tears formed in his eyes when you finally touched his achy dick, slick noises as you pump his cock and thrust into his ass. "Ah! P-Please! Hnnn, nggh!" He chokes on a groan, desperately trying to grip at the sand below him but it gives him no hold, only making him want to cry as his hands resort to balling up into fist instead, his nails digging into his palms harshly. "G-Gonna,"
"Already? Tsk, tsk," you slow to a stop, both thrusting and jerking him off, and revel in the whines he lets out freely.
"Wanna cum, please, please," Albedo is being so loud, not a care in his pretty mind anymore, just wanting to feel his own pleasure. "Please let me cum," he breathes shakily, peering over his shoulder at you, his face completely flushed. "Please." He batted his lash and you bark a laugh.
"Alright, pretty boy, you can cum this time." He praises your name, thanking you for being so merciful.
With that you resume your actions, easily sliding in his ass, taking your dick so well. Your hand wraps around him again, and you thumb at his slit before slowly moving your hand up and down, up and down, twisting nicely.
Once again he lets out the most beautiful noises, drool dribbling down his chin as he loses all control of himself, succumbing to your touch. His vision blurs, body hot, the sounds of you hitting so deep in him making his dick twitch, pulling him closer to the edge.
"C... Cum- Cumming!" He cries out, thighs tensing and throwing his head back. Sweet gasps for air mixed with choked out, high-pitched moans. Thick ropes of white spurt out, landing on the sand below you two. You slowly slide out of him once you've milked him dry and he falls to the side on his back, sand sticking to his sweat-covered body. He pants, staring up at the stars, his vision slowly clearing. "Ah, hah..."
"You sound so pretty, baby!" You exclaim, his vision now filled with you, you hovering over him and he whines, shaking his head.
"A-Again?" He rasps, throat sore from screaming so much just a few moments ago. You nod, nuzzling into his neck before biting and then lapping over the bite, a red mark appearing.
"Can you do that for me, 'bedo? Will you make such pretty noises for me again? It's be a shame to waste this opportunity." He grunts, turning his head to the side and allowing you more access to leave hickies along his neck. "Is that a yes?" He hums, nodding and you chuckle, your hand landing on his chest and slowly moving down, you'd coax every single noise out of this man.
hueheueheu if its okay can i req rich bf aventurine? Always spoiling reader and buys everything she wants 🥹🥹
✸ SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend, aventurine spoils you in more ways than one when you come back to your shared hotel room in penacony.
note. uhh, this actually turned out a tad more melodramatic than i expected help, i put some of my own twists in there. first aventurine fic so sorry if its too ooc !
tags. aventurine x female reader. fluff, bits of angst, suggestive. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty’. use of aventurine’s real name once. reader is a bit insecure at one point. little bits of penacony and aventurine lore / subtle spoiler to the 2.1 quest. wc: 1.4k-ish
“c’mere, pretty.” aventurine’s voice soothes your weary body the moment you step into your shared hotel room. you’ve just gotten back from some business you had to take care of—a couple hours of your valuable day wasted because of it.
you’re greeted by your lover sitting on one of the red couches, accompanied by various bags and boxes all around the space. aventurine shoots you his signature smile. one that’s actually genuine. the one he only shows you.
“must’ve been tough, hm? i’m sorry i couldn’t help you out,” the blonde man sighs as he stands up to meet you halfway. a gloved hand finds its way onto yours, fingers intertwining without wasting a second.
aventurine places a delicate kiss on your palm and slowly moves down to your wrist. his beautiful eyes lure you in, “you’d forgive me for that, right?”
you don’t realise that you’re practically frozen in place until he chuckles in amusement. you snap out of it and clear your throat, trying to get yourself together, “y-yeah. i understand you’re busy ‘n all. it’s no problem.”
aventurine hums in response. there’s a faint flash of guilt in his eyes before it disappears like it was never there. like it was a delusion. well, perhaps it was. staying in penacony for too long causes you to have difficulties differing reality from dreams and vice versa.
“i’m happy to have you back with me,” aventurine pulls you closer by the small of your back. he presses you against him until your chests are touching. his breath is pleasantly warm against your bare skin, “i’ve been waiting for you all day.”
the tension in the hotel room is heavy. it’s like this every time you’re with your lover. the spark never dies between you two. it never will. you both need each other, in unspoken ways.
you avert your gaze to the ground. no matter how much time you spend with aventurine, his affectionate gestures never fail to make you melt into a puddle. maybe it’s in those eyes of his. or in his homelike touch.
aventurine continues peppering you with kisses. he doesn’t miss a spot—every patch of skin you’re showing is showered in his love. that’s one of the only ways he can illustrate those complicated feelings inside of him.
his lips eventually find yours, like a force drawn to a magnet. you cup his face and deepen the kiss. your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately. you need this as much as he does.
the way he’s holding onto your coat—his fingers digging into the material as if he’s missed you greatly. . . his tongue trying to seek entrance into your mouth as if he can’t wait to be one with you. to try and love you like you love him. . .
a light hearted chuckle makes you pull away. you open your eyes and find aventurine grinning down at you, his finger rubbing your bottom lip gently to tease you.
“haha, how cute.” the blonde man snickers at your needy expression. he knows what you want, and he wants it as well, though there’s enough time for that after, “we can get to that later, yeah?”
"aww, 'kay,” you nod with a pout, to which aventurine responds by gently flicking your forehead. he grabs your hand and leads you to the nearby table. you can’t even see the surface because of the numerous boxes placed on it.
“i want to show you what i got you first,” aventurine continues, sitting down on the comfy couch. he pulls you onto his lap and wraps one arm around your waist, the other one reaching out towards the mountain of fancy gifts.
you can easily recognise the expensive bags by now. aventurine is known for spoiling you rotten. the overpriced brands are nothing but child's play to the lucky man. money isn’t a worry to him, nor should it be for you, as he says every time you feel the slightest bit guilty for his big spendings on you.
“kakavasha..” you mutter under your breath. aventurine doesn't respond, but he reassures you by lightly tightening his grip on your waist. you turn your head and look at him. he isn’t looking back at you this time. rather, he’s looking down at the box in your hand, patiently waiting for you to open it.
you wordlessly undo the wrappers and open up the first gift of many. it’s an earring. one that resembles his. it shines brightly once you pick it up. the color is beautiful, as it reminds you of your lover.
you don’t know what to say. you don’t want to guess how much aventurine has spent on it either. you love him, that you surely do, but are you really deserving of this much? he spoils you every day. all that money he spends on you without hesitation makes you overthink.
you shake your head and try to get those negative thoughts out of your head. you don’t want to ruin this precious moment all too much. you smile fondly and put the earring on, “thank you so much. it's so pretty.”
the jewelry dangles off your left ear, the opposite of where aventurine’s got his hanging. the blonde man silently admires you. the light illuminating the stones gives you an ethereal look. especially in a dimly lit room with only a few light sources.
“no need to thank me, baby,” aventurine murmurs, his voice a surprisingly soft whisper. his thumb trails down the shell of your ear and eventually touches the earring again. the fact that you’re wearing the exact same one as he is, but on the opposite ear, is doing indescribable things to him.
you complete each other.
all his life, aventurine has never properly taken the time to appreciate his gift; his luck. he is doing so now—with you in his embrace. it’s like his surroundings have come to a halt. all that his eyes are focusing on, is you. the image of you in his arms.
“it suits you perfectly.” aventurine’s voice trembles lightly. he doesn't know why he's feeling like this. he’s overwhelmed by how lucky he is to have someone so breath-takingly beautiful in his presence. “gorgeous—you’re gorgeous.”
aventurine is not the only one who’s flustered. your own heart is pounding in your chest. your lover knows just what buttons to push to make you all flustered. he succeeds without fail every single time.
you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his torso. aventurine welcomes the affection without a word. you look up at your partner with a softened expression before complimenting him back, “no, you are. you are beautiful."
aventurine’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips parting. you’s aware of the effects your compliments have on him. they make him feel giddy, however he also isn’t the best at expressing that. he regains his composure and grins, “oh, really? hah, how flattering.”
you giggle quietly and nod. you’re content with this. being in your lover’s arms after a rough day, unpacking the many gifts he got you, receiving his attention and affection. you wish you could do this for eternity.
after you’ve shared your precious moment together, aventurine leans agains the back of the couch and pulls you into a warm hug. one you both simply had to have. your lover starts to pat your head in a soothing manner.
the silence in the hotel room is deafening. the opened gifts and abandoned wrappers lay scattered around the table and floor. the static of the television in the distance is somehow comforting.
both aventurine and you realise that this instant will be over as soon as the next day arrives. it’s but a fleeting moment, one that will sooner or later be just another memory. you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and he answers this by kissing your forehead. his lips leave a tingling sensation on your skin.
the comfortable silence continues for a couple seconds more. aventurine stares up at the ceiling. he’s sure that he’s satisfied for now, yet there’s still unease boiling in the pit of his stomach.
perhaps it’s due to his knowledge of the near future. his grande plan.
but, that’s not what’s important. not when aventurine can feel and hear your heartbeat right next to him. he hasn’t lost it all. not yet. he’s still got time to spend with the other gift that was bestowed upon him at birth: you.
“you’ll stay with me, right? no matter what.”
aventurine’s sudden question breaks the quiet atmosphere. you open your eyes again and tilt your head back, gazing down at your lover. one look at his face and you know that he needs your honesty at the moment. more than anything else in the entire universe.
you nod and lean in to kiss him—to show him that you mean it when you say; “yes. no matter what.”
(aventurine x reader /// continuation of this concept)
"explain to me," the good doctor demands, "why do you need my help?"
"because." you fumble around you're words. your lips feel cold. herta's space station, especially this deep in it's bowels, is an unpleasant place to have any conversation, let alone one that is also unpleasant. "i don't have time."
"and you assume i do?"
"partially?" you rub a hand over your cheek. "throw me a bone here, doctor."
ratio has been sizing you up for the better part of half an hour, scrutinizing your intent in any way he can. you have been skillfully attempting to dodge most of those attempts, but veritas ratio is as diligent a man as he is intelligent. which is to say that he is not letting up until you divulge the truth.
you sigh.
"you will explain to me," he says outright, gaze piercing. "how one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers needs help with an algorithm that is far below both of our skill levels. it's insulting to both myself, and yourself."
you sigh again, deeper and harder, "i, once again, do not have time. i have the 'full time job' of handling aventurine's odds, and those calculations don't run like any other odds i've ever worked with, and he is a variable constantly in motion. i need help making this algorithm so i can have some assistance with my main job at hand."
the doctor scoffs, and walks a circle around you, "i'm sure he's just thrilled with the company."
"we— he manages."
more than. but, veritas doesn't need to know that. you're sure he'll figure it out eventually.
veritas tagged the briefcase on a nearby table. it's gleaming, with a discreet ipc logo embossed on the side. the sight of it makes you nauseous with anxiety.
"is this bribe from him?" he asks.
"no." you've stopped aventurine anytime he has tried to intervene and make things easier for you. he rarely listens, but your relationship with ratio and the guild make him somewhat neutral territory. "higher up."
"i assume diamond wouldn't bother to dirty her hands. so, jade?"
"yes."
dr. ratio, for the first time, seriously considers your offer. then scowls. "it would be a waste of my time."
you sigh. there was a 67.22% chance of this outcome. luckily, you have gamed out the conversation from here.
"so you can't?"
"you know i can."
then, you laugh, and shake your head. "yes, i do. sorry to tease. i'm quite tired."
"you should go find your gambler." veritas crosses his arms, looking sidelong at the briefcase.
"i will, eventually." you turn your back to veritas as you begin to leave the open atrium. the air is hollow and frigid. "i'll just ask some other intelligentsia guild members about the project first. i'm sure they'd be happy to help."
you only take a few steps before dr. ratio grabs your arm. his grip is far too strong.
(chance of failure to secure dr. veritas ratio's assistance: decreased by 31%.)
"don't bother them."
"someone needs to help." you turn back to look at him, expression schooled. "and if you won't, i'm very sure someone else will be happy to work beside 'one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers'. or, does such a title not truly apply considering i've been ousted from my previous position?"
he frowns, but before he can speak, you interrupt him. you haven't seen veritas since being tied down to your current post. you haven't let him have it. he deserves it, maybe.
"i heard from jade that i received a glowing recommendation from another well-respected scholar. apparently, the position was being considered for either one of us. somehow, with that recommendation, i drew the short end of the stick and now play handler for a man with a death wish and a statistically measurable chaos quotient that's ever-changing in multiples of three."
veritas's face is unmoving. unchanging. but you know you've struck something. it was to be him or you in this position. and you don't have the pride he does. you place your hand over top of his, posed to speak, to tear him apart—
a shrill ringtone shatters the tension. it's yours. you already know who it is.
you flip your phone open with one hand, still staring at ratio.
"hello," aventurine's voice beckons from the other side, smug and smooth. "where is my favorite, most brilliant mind hiding out? we're due to leave soon."
"sadly, with another one of your favorite, brilliant minds. i'll be finished up shortly and meet you at the docks."
"aw, did he not get onboard? that's quite the choice for him to be making. do you want me to give him a talking to you?"
"no, it's fine. i'm working something out."
"you sound upset."
"i'm tired." you rub at your eyes and break away from veritas with a yawn.
"you can nap on the ship. we have quite the journey."
"that we do. i'll see you in a bit?"
"see you there." you can hear the smirk in his voice.
sending you down to veritas alone was aventurine's gamble. one that is working out, predictably. never mind the damage your reputation will take after these next moments. you close the phone with a sigh and begin toward the grand elevator.
"veritas," you call his name. "i forgive you, for what it's worth. try not to do it again."
"i couldn't."
you laugh and shake your head as you ascend. by the time you arrive at the docks, the ipc's premier vessel is packed away and priming its engines. lights and sirens echo from it. aventurine's idles outside, waiting for you. he beams when he sees you.
"so," he whistles, guiding you with a hand on your lower back. you let him. "was the good doctor as prickly as ever?”
"if not more so" you admit. aventurine gestures with a sweeping hand to your shared quarters for the time being. there's a single bed, but you're used to this. you've come not to mind it. "i think i bruised his ego."
with a genuine laugh, “i don’t think that's possible."
"want to bet on that?" you ask.
your phone's text tone chimes and you shoot aventurine a sharp smile.
aventurine's odds are ridiculous. ever changing, constantly moving. none of your perceptions and calculations that are usually steadfast and unmoving can keep up with him. not with efficiency, anyways. it's exhausting work. however, the likelihoods of everything but aventurine? the predictions of a man like ratio?
easy. simple. you could do them in your sleep.
aventurine squishes against your side as you open your newest message.
[SENDER: Doctor Ratio <intelligentsia guild>]
> here is a first draft. forgo payment. i do not need to be in the stonehearts’ pocket.
[file attached: STONE ALGORITHM DRAFT 1.0.spqxxxiun.pqo]
aventurine laughs, muffling it against the side of your neck. his teeth are sharp and his breath is warm. it settles something in you. you lean into him and deflate, sliding down into your lap so your head is pillows there. a gloved hand cards through your hair.
"you're quite good at the game, when you choose to play." aventurine reminds you. he tells you this often.
"i know." you turn your face into his hand as the ship rumbles. "but it's your job."
aventurine pauses his pets, then thumbs over your lips. he looks sour, only for a moment, before resuming his motions, a bit rougher this time. you relish the feel of it, sinking into it.
"one of us has to, right?"
"right."
"and the other," he taps your lips. your sputter, indignant. "plays support."
"one of us has to." you remind him.
it's silent between the two of you as the ship whirs and bellows, taking off from herta's space station without reverie. onto your next destination, wherever aventurine is deigned to be needed, with you by his side, dutifully.
you press your face into his stomach, letting the smell of linen and his cologne envelope you.
neither of you have a choice to play this game. the cards are stacked, and you best not loose count from aventurine's side. you'll be damned if you do.
(there is a 98.769% chance that you are damned regardless.)
at least, at least, you have each other, you think as aventurine bundles you up closer, and you wrap yourself around him. you'll take that, for as long as it lasts.
wondergays x showtime sleepover comic!!
-> pairing: aether x reader
requested? yes .. no
cw: nsfw ( minors dni ), dumbification, dacryphilia, edging if you squint, multiple orgasms, sir k., no prep, ahegao, degrading, begging
please note this has not been proofread and there may be grammatical and spelling errors.
as a member of the knights of favonius, you knew about the "hotshot" of the knights. kaeya's stories about him made you excited. lisa said they were a 'cutie', and you knew then and there you had to try them out.
you asked jean to call them to her office, telling her it was important. she did so, assuming you were just excited to meet the new honorary member. as he arrives, jean takes her leave, allowing the two of you to have some 'private time' together.
"so, has kaeya told you about my endurance training?" it was a genuine question. you had 'trained' some of the knights, and you wondered if any of them had taken the time to warn him.
"no." aether's reply was curt, firm. you licked your lips, he would be fun to break. in a swift motion your lips were on his, savouring his taste. you forced your tongue onto his, exploring his wet cavern whilst you hear him moan. as you pull away, he opens his mouth to retort, but you pinned his body against the desk.
"this can go one of two ways, aether. either you make this easy for me, or i can some fun trying to break you," you tease, lifting his shirt to play with his nipples.
"f-fuck off..." he moans, trying to push you off of him. "don't touch me."
"your body seems to say otherwise," you reply slyly. "i can see your erection through your pants. you're suck a whore."
hearing aether pant as he struggles to get you off of him eggs you on further. you get onto your knees, slipping his pants down as you take his throbbing erection into your mouth.
"st-stop, please..." he moans, but his body betrays him as he bucks his hips into your touch. "we shouldn't be doing this... i don't want this."
you ignore him, feeling him hit the back of your throat. the high-pitched, breathy moan he releases as you do so is palatable, satisfactory. "stop... if you keep doing that, i'm- ah- m'gonna cum!"
as those words leave him mouth, you stop. he whines, placing a hand in your hair as he begs you with his eyes to continue to suck him off. you chuckle, turning him around and forcing yourself inside.
"s-sir, fuck!" it stings, you weren't even fully in and yet you were still hitting his prostrate. "i-it hurts... please stop..~"
"let's see how long it takes for you to cum, hotshot." and without warning, you're thrusting in and out of him. his ass clenches around you as he screams out slurred yeses and fucks. sloppy tears are falling from his eyes as he feels himself cumming, velvet walls clenching tightly around you as he reaches his orgasm.
"that's not very long," you tease. "you still need a lot of training, but don't worry. that's what i'm here for." listenimg to his incomprehensible, slurred babbles arouses you to no end. "listen to you, such a whore. being so slutty when you asked me to stop before."
"hah ~ s-sir! fuck me harder, please! feels, hnng, feels so good!" you do as he asks, speeding up your pace as you feel his walls clench around you again. "yesh, m'gonna- m'gonna cum!"
you stop, and aether whimpers as you smack.his ass. "why'd you stop..."
"you asked me to. if you want me to fuck you, beg for it. tell me how much a whore like you wants my cock," you tease, thrusting into him and watching as he arches his back.
"please, sir fuck me. i want you pound me with your cock, please~ destroy me, fuck me so hard i can't walk. milk me dry, please. i need it."
before he can say anything else, you're pounding him into oblivion. his face is pressed into the desk, and he's crying out your name repeatedly like it's some sort of holy mantra. saliva is dripping down his chin as his tongue lolls out, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
"m'gonna cum! fuck yeah~ pound my ass, sir!" aether screams out as you constantly hit his prostrate, feeling his orgasm wash over him as he cums again. his hole clamps down on you, pushing you over the edge as you cum inside him, filling him with your seed.
"i expect to see you here tomorrow," you coo, but aether's mind is long gone.
V i g i l
A/N: Here is the Kazuha angst, sweeties :')) I wrote this with my prepared angsty playlist hehe- I.. well, my heart cracked..
✤ She/her
Words: 3.9k
"Text in this format means dialogue in flashback!"
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
The memory of peering into the crib with excited blabbers remains fresh, untarnished with the passing of time.
It feels like it’s just yesterday when your mother reached for the wailing baby laying inside to hand him in your caring touch.
“This is your little brother, [Name].” you squealed when the boy clung unto your finger, “His name is Kazuha. Be a good sister for him, understand?”
“Yes!”
Ah, that did feel as if it was just yesterday.
“Nee-chan!”
Dropping the basket of laundry, you frantically looked around.
“Nee-chan!”
“Kazuha-!?”
He was sprinting, arms flailing as tears spilled past his eyes and panicked exclaims left his lips. His friend was chasing him from behind, laughing as he waved an undercooked fish—your brother’s worst nightmare.
Comedic but understandable.
“Tomo’s making me eat it!” your younger brother mumbled behind you, pointing accusingly towards his friend who sheepishly spluttered excuses at your stern gaze.
Taking the skewered fish in Tomo’s hands, you hummed, patting his and Kazuha’s heads.
“How about I cook something for the both of you, instead? How’s that sound?”
“Yes, please! Nee-chan’s cooking is the best!”
You can never get tired of cooking for the two of them, even if your sibling eventually asked to be taught, you find yourself still taking over cooking duty. Lovingly whipping up dishes is your forte.
It stuck around when the household eventually lost the attending servants following the fall of the Kaedehara clan. It even stuck through the grim times of your parents’ passing.
Kazuha had went through so much at a young age, changed little by little—and you aren’t oblivious to it. With his growth, you are a witness to his budding shell of maturity.
Single years fold into a decade and all of a sudden, the mirthful silverette who doesn’t last a day without calling you ‘big sister’ has grown up.
Far too quickly, to be honest, but who are you to hold him back?
“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,” you laugh jokingly, “My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”
He stares at the plates of food you set on the dining table, his sigh small and feeble as you continue gushing. Albeit he has a smile on his face, it appears tight. Forced.
But you turn a blind eye to that—you’ve always been doing it.
Now, however, it seems that your brother has grown tired of humoring you. It has been going on for too long.
“I’m not some child anymore..” his monotonous voice is so unlike him—it’s as if he no longer is the person you grew up with.
Having him address it bluntly prompts you to pause, the only sound being the sizzling of unagi meat, frying to perfection. The richness of its color, however, dulls when you process what your sibling has mentioned.
As if its vividness is an illusion meant to shield you from present-day reality.
Still, you shake it away, keeping the smile on your face as you set the fried meat on a new plate, turning to put it down on the table beside the other dishes.
“Oh, Ka-“ you stop, seeing the look in his eyes.
The way his carmine optics bore against your [c]s is foreign.
It’s scary.
It’s different. It’s new.
You sit down in front of him, trying not to show how restless you’ve become. Such an attempt is futile, of course, since you’re in front of the person you’ve been with for years.
“Kazu-“
Thud!
Silence zips your lips when he lays his chopsticks down. It isn’t by any means a slam—but someone like Kazuha doesn’t need to be outright with anything in order to express a negative opinion.
“So please refrain from initiating unnecessary coddling,” he cuts you off with a swivel as he leaves for the door. “I have grown up now, sister. I... need you less.”
What?
A multitude of emotions hit you at once, all coming from his sudden statement that feels like it can tear you apart. But oh—who were you kidding?
You know that this will eventually come.
The very day where he admits that he is capable of being alone. Without you.
The opening of the door causes you to stand from your chair, “Wait!”
He does as you said but doesn’t look back. His hand remains on the handle of the knob, unchanging of his decision to leave.
You tug the black and red scarf from your neck, inching close to the man so you can wrap it around his neck. “It’s cold outside.. won’t you at least eat something?”
It takes him a moment to respond—but his decision does not change.
He detangles the fabric on his neck and, without looking you in the eye, sets it in your hand, rejecting your offer.
“Later.”
And he’s gone.
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Nothing changed much after he left with that declaration.
Often times he still returns in the dead of night, a smile on his face. It will only ever droop when you come in the room greeting him a lovely evening, and he will sigh.
“I told you not to wait up for me.”
He will depart for his room before he can hear your explanation.
It leaves you hanging, hollow with bitter hope and refusal to believe that you both have reached that time in life where he doesn’t need you as much.
Each time he turns his back, you are filled to the brim with sorrow you didn’t know you’re capable of holding.
Retreating to the upper floor of your home, you will stay at the balcony sighing your concerns away to the stars. To the place where you believe your parents are staying, listening to your bouts of frustration and worry.
“Was I a good sibling for him, mother? Father?” you’ll sometimes mutter as you play with your silver locks, the only thing you share with your sibling other than the forgotten name of a once esteemed clan.
And as you vent all these to the stars, you remain oblivious to the lone figure hiding by the shadows in the adjacent room. His frown is tiny. Sad, but not guilty.
Kazuha will leave once again before he’ll hear his sister’s frustrated cries.
Sometimes, he will chew over it when he is wandering Inazuma—thinking, pondering if perhaps there could’ve been a way to say it without hurting his sibling. But as he contemplates over and over, he finds that there is no easy method to admitting the truth.
His friend Tomo, albeit not being told anything, is naturally cognizant of the things revolving around the silver-haired siblings. The older sister’s presence has been diminishing and he can count her appearances at Kazuha’s side getting less.
He has implied several times to make up with the female even if they had no outright argument, and when faced with a baffled question of ‘why’, Tomo only smiles.
“Because you’re family.”
So simple and yet—when Kazuha thinks of the matter a minute longer, the taste in his tongue becomes acrid.
“What upsets you?” his friend questions as he coos over his white feline, “You’re not the Kazuha who’s always crying for big sister, heh.”
The silverette cannot even find it within him to send a retort. His silence, to others, is a message that typifies a want to be alone—but to Tomo, who has known him since they’re both children, that silence is different.
With a hum, he stretches his limbs, yawning as his cat rolls around the grass.
“You know, [Name] won’t hate you for wanting it,” he starts, “You want to wander, don’t you? But you feel like you’re tied down. You’re grounded—because [Name] is here.”
Kazuha flinches and his friend snickers.
Spot on.
“I’m just going to repeat what I said because I meant it, Kazuha. Tell her the truth. She’s literally the most understanding person I know—it’s not like she’s going to despise you for wanting something.”
“… I’ll think about it.”
Tomo sighs. It’s not what I was hoping for but it’s a start.
Remembering something that moment, Tomo lets out a loud scream that nearly sent his friend toppling in the nearby stream of water. Kazuha looks on with slightly wide eyes as the other man jumps to his feet, violet eyes gleaming.
“Oh, right! I plan to initiate another challenge!”
Another challenge…
Kazuha closes his eyes with a hum, “I do hope you’ll last another. You’ve been faced with the worst of the worst.”
The chuckles that leave his friend’s lips are excited and sort of expectant.
“It’s going to be the ultimate one of all! So if you’ll excuse me~”
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Perhaps a talk with your brother will do you both good.
You’ve both been acting like strangers walking on eggshells underneath the same house and it is driving you insane. He’s not even looking you in the eye anymore!
Given his quiet personality, confrontation will be difficult, but he’s a cooperative person. Besides, he always hears you out.
There isn’t any reason for him not to when he knows that this will be done only for the betterment of the future.
So, with a nervous disposition but eager heart to settle things right, you lift the basket from its place with plans to head over to the market. It’s an hour or two before dusk, just the perfect time to shop for dinner.
“Mm.. some dry-braised salted fish for tonight sounds lovely.” You muse, remembering how the dish is your brother’s favorite.
Ah, the number of tries he takes to perfect and stylish it into his own can’t be forgotten.
It doesn’t take too long to cook it, but you’ll be making tons of other side dishes and dessert, so it’s best to start early!
You exit the abode, the smile on your face present as ever even when you’re greeted outside by a couple of Shogunate Soldiers. Their features appear sterner, their hold on their naginata rock solid.
“Are you Kaedehara [Name]?”
Hm?
“Yes. Can I help you?”
The soldiers lunge forward, spears falling to a position pointing at you from all possible angles, cutting any means of escape as you furrow your brows. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Your brother has defied the Decree of the Shogun and was hereby declared a criminal. Going against an Imperial Decree results in punishment inclusive to his immediate family.”
Your basket falls to the ground.
Thud!
Kazuha’s feet create a loud sound following his landing, a breath of panic expelling past as he rushes away.
The warmth in his hand escalates to a scalding degree, burning and searing like the fading power of Electro held within the golden casing.
To think that that was what Tomo meant.. !
He does not feel anger, no, just the burn of desperation and want to hide his friend’s Vision because he doesn’t want it to be taken away—to be placed in that statue that displays the lost ambitions of many others.
He’ll be damned before the Shogunate can take it… !
The criminal evades those at his tail, making swift maneuvers on rooftops and alleys without a second thought. His limbs are answering his every command, be it to duck, to jump—or to even draw his blade.
He is still ways away from the port but getting there won’t prove to be too complex for someone like him. He’s cut down plenty of the samurai in his escape from Tenshukaku,
Tomo…
“You’re family. Tell her.”
Family—
“This is the first one in a long time I’ve heard of it being extended-! To whom again? The clan that has lost its prestige a decade ago, right?” he almost trips in his sprinting, darting to an alleyway so he can further eavesdrop.
Did I hear that correctly?
A relieved sigh escapes when those chasing him run past his hiding spot.
Sucking in his breath, the silverette tightens his grip on the faded Vision of his best friend as he listens in the hushed conversation.
“Be quiet!” someone hisses, “If someone overhears us, what next? Still, I do feel bad.. they lost so much already. I can’t believe they’d drag an innocent person into it, too..”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do. The Shogun issued the penalty to immediate families, right? As far as I know, there are only two Kaedeharas left—”
Kazuha feels his heart stopping. Kaede..hara?
There’s no mistaking it.
But why—?
Why would a punishment meant for him extend to her?
She’s innocent!
Going off-course, he sprints in the direction of his house. The house that he lives in with his sister who takes great care of him—the same sister he’s willing to leave in favor of chasing what he wants in life.
He’s willing to, but he doesn’t.
Because perhaps—perhaps if he stayed and buried his desire, then he will amount to the same greatness she has done for him. But he cannot stand it, either. As patient as he is, as kind and ‘gentle’, [Name] can always see through his face.
He’s always been antsy—always itching to wander and he’s stumped that his sister is well-aware of that fact. Still, she’s always playing the ignorant one, pretending not to care- still coddling him as if he’s little and he’s had… enough of it.
But now that the situation has pinned this misfortune upon them, the ronin realizes that she’s only pretending for his sake, as well.
“Cut that out, I don’t need it. I fear that.. you will only embarrass yourself.”
Wasn’t it him who refused to tell her of his want to roam free in the first place?
“I understand that I am your brother—but there is no need to worry over me all the time. I can look after myself, [Name]. Do worry about something else, instead.”
Wasn’t it him who stuck around, still?
The bitterness in his tongue increases with each leap of his feet. He doesn’t even process the race of his heart as he’s carried through the same path that leads him home. To his family—to his only sister.
Everything seems to pass by slowly, in a blur, like the specks that decorate his vision the more his mind throws stacks and stacks of memories. This is madness.
Complete and utter madness.
He rounds the corner to see the figure of his only sibling, her back turned to him—she cannot see him, but he can see the armed soldiers flanking around her.
His throat tightens and certainly, he wouldn’t have been able to utter a word due to how it feels like his throat has been crushed.
“[Name]!”
Yet, the furious scream that tears past his lips denies all kinds of ‘impossibility’ the instant he sees the female falling to the ground, the sight of red splatter making him draw his blade.
Whoosh!
The summoned wind is opposingly gentle to the brewing storm in someone’s beautiful carmine eyes.
“[Name]-.. !”
That voice.. Kazuha?
Sometimes, the depth of emotion in Kazuha’s eyes is too deep for you to understand. Despite being so silent, he’s so, so expressive with his stares.
That even when he isn’t trembling when he lifts your torso, you know how much he’s quaking from within.
“What are you.. doing here? You have to go,” you cough red when he adjusts you in his arms, the sight of the fallen soldiers reminding you of the situation at hand. “Quick—before they.. catch you.”
He shakes his head,
“I’m taking you with me, I have a boat prepared, come, let’s—”
“Don’t lie to me, Kazuha.”
He pauses, flitting his gaze down to meet yours. You hate how you can’t seem to focus on him, though. Your sight is blurring in and out, only providing small intervals of clarity where you can see the panic in his features.
A sight you didn’t think you’d see on him until now.
“I know you made it for yourself. You’ve been planning to leave home, weren’t you? I’m not..” you’re not oblivious to his wish, “I’m not mad. I was only holding you back, wasn’t I?”
He sucks in a breath.
“I-I-“
What was he supposed to say?
Weakly tapping his arm, you start taking quick breaths—just to take in all the air you can while tolerating the gaping wound from being impaled.
It hurts. You want to scream. It hurts.
But you don’t—because you do not want to appear weak to your brother.
You promised mother and father that you will not cry when faced with problems—he mustn’t see, Kazuha mustn’t see. But at this moment, you just want to break apart. Disbelief is kicking in, you can’t believe this is happening.
When—where did everything go wrong?
“Besides, I’m not of use to you anymore. As if I’ll last the journey to Liyue-“
“Don’t say that!”
You blink owlishly, gasping out in pain when his hand presses against your wound, futilely attempting to hold back the bleeding.
“K-Kazuha?”
Your own hand shakily plants itself atop his own, helping him press—as if his hand isn’t heavy enough to stop the flow—it down. It will hurt, but you can’t say for sure. You’ve already grown numb and your head is swimming.
Still, you focus on him.
Still, you help him apply pressure even if you know—even if he knows—that it’s too late.
“Don’t say that. You’ve..” his voice cracks, “You’ve done so much, [Name], you-“
You took over the clan household when our parents died. You struggled to make ends meet for both of us. And yet.. all I do.. all I do is… !
Kazuha angrily bites on his lip, his hold on his composure beginning to slip as his mind throws in a reel of olden days.
“I’m leaving, [Name]. Please don’t wait up, I may take longer.”
“I’m grateful, but I don’t need that anymore.”
“Stop that, already.”
He dips his head with a muffled cry. All I do is wander and desire for a future where I can roam freely. I haven’t even thought of you..!
“You’ve grown, Kazuha,” he snaps back into this harsh reality when he feels the hand atop his disappear, presently moving to brush his messy locks.
He doesn’t know why all of a sudden his sight is becoming misty, but perhaps—perhaps it is because he remembers when his sister used to brush his hair the same way with a loving smile.
It is the same touch he flees from nowadays.
The same touch now—the same loving smile.
“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right—you’ve grown so much.. and I’m still clinging onto the past.”
So lively, so beautiful and yet—
“You’re strong now..”
Yet it’s dying.
He presses harder on his sibling’s wound, almost sadistically—as if he’s hoping that it’ll ignite a painful reaction. “[Name], please, let me-“
Because if it hurt—then it means she’s still okay. She’s still responding.
“So capable.. so independent, you are.”
So why—? He almost chokes out a sob. Why are you not reacting to it!?
“Mother and father would be so proud of you. I am sorry if I was lacking in any way.”
“Please, [Name], you can’t do this.” He trembles, the composure he created so, so close to breaking as he gives up on endeavors that are pointless, to begin with. Instead, he tilts his head up, wishing to curse the heavens above.
For everything.
“I’m happy to be your sister, and.. I’m proud of you… Kazu..”
“Wait-“ he stumbles over his words, catching the falling hand of his sibling and registering how deathly pale she has gotten in a matter of seconds. “Wait, please—I-“
As much as he wants to voice out he’s sorry. For many things; for turning his back on her, for being distant when all they have is each other, he’s unable to find his voice when he sees the tears dripping out of his sister’s [c] eyes.
His strong older sister—weeping. It’s the first time he has seen her cry.
Her smile trembles—
“I love you. My nice.. little.. brother.”
—And her [c]s are then hidden forever.
The way she endearingly called him in her dying breath has him freezing, his heart pausing as if he had died along with her. But then the spark of pain welcomes him back to reality—to life.
And then he is leaning over her.
“[Name]..” breathless whispers escalate into panicked murmurs. “[Name]?”
His heart is pounding in his chest as he tries to shake her awake, like when he’d do when he’s eight and awake from an awful dream.
“Nee-san.. can I sleep by your side tonight?”
And although her [c] eyes are tired, she will still smile. “Okay.”
And she’d keep watch over him the whole night.
He’s reminded of it when he hopelessly shakes her awake, to no obvious avail. But he keeps grasping her arms, anyway, like he used to many years ago.
But things are different now.
“[Name]—[N-Name]!?”
He said it himself—he’s no longer a child.
“Please, don’t leave me- I- you’re all I have left!” The ronin’s composure finally breaks loose and his tears begin landing like a profuse waterfall. His uncontained sobs remain unheard.
This time, there is no one to wake him up from his nightmares.
“No—no, no- no, please..!” Kazuha weeps as he holds his sister’s cold hand, shakily pressing it to his forehead, imitating the sweet action she has always given him. A hand on his head, on his shoulder—or on his cheek if he’s tearful. “You can’t!”
She’ll tell him not to be sad because it’ll make her sad, too.
And he’ll hurriedly wipe his tears because ‘no! big sister mustn’t feel sad because of me!’.
Then [Name] will muster a smile as bright as the sun and hold his face in her warm hands, and press a kiss on his forehead. He’ll get red and thrash around, whining, ‘onee-san!’. And about how embarrassing it is so she mustn’t do it anymore.
Now, he is holding her hand in his own, trying to remember the same warmth it emitted just a day ago. Just a few hours ago. How long has it been?
And when he doesn’t feel the warmth—when he doesn’t remember the warmth, when all he feels is the cold and the obvious lack of love, Kazuha breaks apart.
His heart squeezes and his tears spill more, his lips parting to release the honorific he has dropped a long, long time ago. “Nee-san!”
“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,”
“Onee-san!”
“My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”
“Onee-san!”
I’m calling you. He cries, like a picture of misery. So why aren’t you waking up? Sister! He cries, like a heartbroken child.
The winds around him pick up, warning him of incoming men sent to apprehend and penalize him the same way they did to his sibling. It’s suffocating—maddening, even, and he wants to tear them all down himself.
But [Name] wouldn’t like that.
So, with a muted cry and bolster of willpower, he tears himself from the body of his kin, trembling.
He can hear the thundering steps of the samurai as he hurries to untangle the same black and red scarf [Name] has once attempted to give him. The same fabric he has rejected.
“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry.” he hugs her with all his might, with his soul, and with his heart before he’s back up on his feet and running. I love you, too, nee-san.
“Get him!” someone roars from behind.
And although he wishes to turn and slice them away, he couldn’t—because he’d be seeing the fallen figure of the same person he had neglected to cherish. So, instead, he nestles the scarf around his neck whilst clutching onto the Vision of his friend.
Down the path, he runs.
Years ago, he will be accompanied by the people he loves, chasing a faraway future.
Now he is running on the same path alone, running after a dream that can now be turned into reality.
Far from Inazuma.
Far from home.
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
a/n: did it hurt-
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ Return to the Scrying Glass ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
≿————- taglist ————-≾
@lehra @melkxsh
"how to get your crush to like you back in 3 easy steps"
or: dan heng likes you. march knows.
dan heng x f!reader. pining fools and idiots in love. march is close to having a metaphorical heart attack. cliche shoujo stuff.
"you have a crush on her."
"i absolutely do not."
march fixes dan heng with an unimpressed gaze. "you are literally so obvious, don't even try and deny it again."
obvious? he's obvious? dan heng tries not to panic. in a poor attempt to salvage the unsalvageable, he says, lamely, "...i don't know what you're talking about."
graciously preserving the little dignity he has left, march ignores him. she claps him on the shoulder sympathetically. "don't worry, i'm a pro wingwoman. i accept payment in the form of desserts."
dan heng's right eye twitches.
1. show interest in their interests, pay attention to them.
that's easy, he thinks to himself. he always pays attention to you, it comes naturally to him. he knows how you prefer your coffee with a dash of milk and honey, not too sweet. he knows how you always start books but rarely ever finish them unless they were "really good and checked all my boxes!" and could go on thesis-worthy rants about your favourite ones. he knows how you like to keep succulents on your table and give them all ridiculous names like "king coin of doge land" and "a rad little guy".
so easy, in fact, that he feels the most confident he's ever been as he strides across the room over to you. you’re fiddling with something, looking vaguely nervous as you talk to march.
"good morning." he greets, eyeing the newest project you seem to be occupied with in your hands. a crotchet dragon, how nice. he knows exactly how to keep the conversation going now—
"what's cookin', good lookin'?"
his brain short circuits.
what is he supposed to say to that? were you flirting? does he flirt back? was it just a phrase? what's cooking-?
"but i'm not on cooking duty today."
dan heng watches your face freeze in confusion. his face feels like stone. to the side, march looks like she’s about to strangle him.
"...uh huh."
an awkward silence hangs in the air. dan heng wishes he was a statue.
— a failure, cut your losses and move on.
2. compliment something they’ve put effort into.
“please elaborate.”
“say something you like about her.” march takes a bite of her parfait (courtesy of dan heng), “but it has to be something she put conscious thought into. it shows that you notice the little things, and it makes her feel good about herself which makes her feel good about you. bam! two birds with one stone.”
dan heng only feels more confused. “but i like everything about her.”
even with the sweet treat in her mouth, march looks like she tasted something sour.
“so do i compliment her on everything i can think of?”
“no, no. you-“ march heaves a sigh, “pick one. just one.”
when he sees you in the archive room, he notices the now completed crotchet dragon in your hand. he decides that this is the perfect time to redeem himself.
“it’s well-made. i like the teal colour.” he says, and mentally congratulates himself for not messing up right off the bat (again).
“thank you, it’s, um, actually supposed to be the dragon you summon.”
“oh.” dan heng’s mind had been so occupied with march’s plans and you that he didn’t even make the connection. he feels just a little stupid.
“…and it’s for you.”
“oh.” a gift from you? and it was made exclusively to represent him, with hours of effort? he is in shock.
he must have taken too long to answer, because you notice the hesitation. flushing with embarrassment, you say “it’s a little much, huh? sorry.”
dan heng doesn’t manage to get a word in (because he would love to have the crotchet dragon, thank you very much!) before you scurry out the door. it clicks as it shuts, his outstretched hand reaching for nothing but air.
— i don’t want to call you a dumbass, but you’re kind of being a dumbass.
3. find time alone with them.
“i’ll help you with this one. but when you’re alone with her, you’re on your own.” march looks mildly concerned, “…will you be ok?”
“of course.” he says, and it’s merely bravado.
“right, well, i managed to convince mr. yang, miss himeko, and pom pom to visit this café with me—you’re paying, of course—it’s a rare opportunity so make full use of it, ‘kay?”
alone on the express. with you. no one else. no big deal, he tries to convince himself.
they keyword is ‘tries’, of course.
when the time comes, he gathers all the courage he has and, hopefully nonchalantly, asks you to watch a movie with him with a mini projector march had lent him beforehand. you agree, and it’s the first hurdle cleared. no mishaps so far.
“i’ll make you coffee, the way you like it.” he offers, and feels a flutter in his chest when you smile. if he could, he would bottle the feeling you gave him up and ration it throughout the rest of his life.
“i would love that.”
he gets to work, prepping the sugar and honey as he waits for the water to boil. the conversation between the two of you comes easily, as if the recent incidents didn’t happen at all, and dan heng feels the familiar serenity that comes from being in your presence. it was quiet save for your conversation, and the backdrop of stars outside the train seemed to be even more mesmerising than usual.
but of course, not everything goes according to plan.
the astral express, which had been sailing through the stars so smoothly, lurches from sudden turbulence. you bump against the kettle when you try to stabilise yourself and knock it over. boiling water spills all over the counter and onto the floor.
“watch out!”
not wanting you to be scalded, he grabs your arm and tries to push you away with his back towards the spillage. but his foot steps on the water and he slips, falling forward.
the two of you land on the floor in a heap, inches away from the spill. pure reflexes allow him to minimise the impact of your head meeting the floor by using his other hand as a cushion. he thinks he has bruised his knuckles. he has sprained his wrist.
the thought of the compromising position doesn’t even cross either of your minds. you crawl out from underneath him, and, perceptive as ever, notice when he rubs his wrist and winces.
“dan heng! are you ok?” you fuss over him, hands flitting over his wrist. dan heng feels like he would have enjoyed the attention more if he wasn’t so disappointed that his plans were disrupted. it had been going so well, he mourns. he watches as your back disappears around the corner with promises of finding the first aid kit.
it’s hard for the previous tranquil atmosphere to come back when you obviously felt bad about his wrist (even thought he assured you it was alright and not to worry), and his plans were derailed. the both of you work together to clean up the mess, which took some time, and try to enjoy the movie, but the momentum was lost.
— …
“what do you mean all my plans went bust? i worked so hard to convince pom pom to come with me!” march looks at you in horror.
“i don’t know! i thought you said you were a pro at this! i tried the pick-up line, i tried giving him a gift, and i even spent time alone with him, nothing worked! am I just inept at this love thing?” you shake her by the shoulders, tears of frustration on the edge of falling. march could only feel wronged.
“oh my god. you’re both idiots.”
absentminded musings.
“can’t stop staring at you, it’s like i forgot that staring is rude.”
(in which he either succors you back to disciplined focus…or simply makes for an attractive and infuriatingly worse distraction.)
characters: albedo, ayato, childe, diluc, itto, kazuha, scaramouche, thoma, xiao
“the fuck are you looking at?” scaramouche sneers at your dazed expression, snapping you out of your temporary trance. you must have lost track during your daily dose of his colorful reproaches and stubborn chiding, at some later point…which wasn’t exactly very difficult to distract yourself with. after all, his face seemed to be a much more interesting subject, and posed for a hundred rather curious questions — starting with how an attractive boy like that just so happened to have one of the shittiest personalities in the world. “…oi, you idiot. you’re doing it again.”
you’re about to plainly retort that you were simply being wrongfully accused once more, but you bite the words between your teeth when he suddenly draws his face closer towards yours, eyebrows scrunched in irritation and a bratty frown pursed on his lips. you feel your breath catch in bewilderment, and find yourself instinctively shying away from the eerily close proximity. besides, scaramouche isn’t particularly adept in the scope of feelings either, but one look at your oddly timid disposition and he knows you’re flustered because you’ve been busy staring at his face. he wonders if you’ve noticed how long he’s been quietly staring at yours too.
“archons, it’s like you lost your manners.” xiao snorts at the dazed look glazed on your features, only rolling his eyes at you when you suddenly meet his piercing gaze with an awkward and surprised expression contorting across your face. you feel yourself scramble to apologize with reddened cheeks for not paying attention to his words…and you felt even more embarrassed when you see his features quirk into disappointment, for you knew deep down that you had covertly spent the last few minutes staring at him instead of actually trying to hear his statements. “honestly, mortals are so damn annoying. maybe this will help you listen better.
you let out an abrupt gasp when you feel him suddenly pin you on the rail of the balcony, caught between his chest and the wood, and his slanted amber irises reflecting the enchanting sunset behind you. you swallow the thick lump forming in your throat, and wait for him to continue speaking where he had left off in the previous conversation. and this time you decide to hear him out, and hope that the sound of his low and comforting voice slowly drowns out the incessant noises that foster quietly inside the depths of your chest.
“see something you like?” ayato smiles, tilting his head curiously at you. halfway through the chess game, you had already decided it was best for you to give up and think about something else to soothe the depressing sense of defeat. ayato was undeniably brilliant, and it could be perceived within each one of his move-sets during the stretch of the game. he was also…infuriatingly pretty, you couldn’t help noticing the way his pearl white hair shone beneath morning sunbeams. you sigh to yourself, muttering an apology and shifting your gaze back down to the board, ready to accept your imminent and rather upsetting fate…when you notice how your queen just so happened to be within the range of ayato’s king on the field. “your move, y/n.”
you can’t seem to hide the joy that begins to spill across your face when you hurriedly make a move with your queen piece to the other end of the board, unable to control the shriek of victory as you jump up from your seating position and raise your arms in excitement — after all these dreadful years, you had finally won a single chess game against ayato! and you’re too engrossed in your unexpected triumph against the boy to recognize how ayato sinks his head in his hand to admire the smile glowing on your face. there’s not many people he can honestly say he doesn’t mind losing to, but he figures getting distracted by you mid-game and subconsciously allowing you to win…makes him feel happier rather than defeated at the astonishing notion of it.
“…are you still listening to me?” albedo muses, an eyebrow raised at your stupor expression after listening to him talk about his experiment for a few hours. which you didn’t actually find boring — in fact, it was rather interesting at first…but then you started wondering about the curious shade of blue in his effervescent eyes, and how his locks of blonde hair began to look oddly similar to a golden aureole. and before you knew it, you were dozing off as you stared at his lips, and albedo was already getting up in your face out of instinctive concern. “apologies. that was probably boring for you, wasn’t it?”
you shake your head with a smile, apologizing to him for distracting yourself with some pre-occupied thoughts. but albedo knows you’ve simply been busy staring at him for the past few minutes, and yet chooses not to mention it aloud to perhaps spare you the vocalized embarrassment. besides, who was he to call you out on the endearing gesture when he had often found himself occasionally staring at you too?
“staring is rude, sweetheart.” kazuha smirks, raising his bandaged hand to gently caress the side of your face, consequently tugging you out of your little daydream. you blink at him in confusion, avoiding his playful and accusatory gaze, while also boldly claiming you had listened to his words loud and clear. when you’re about to move forward from the awkward point of the conversation, he suddenly inches closer towards your body and shifts his fingers to skim over your lips, a sly smile quirking across his mouth as he sees the way your eyes widen at the unexpected action. “that’s real cute, darling. why don’t we hear you repeat what i said again this time, okay?”
and you absolutely loathe the way kazuha coyly simpers when he witnesses you utterly caught in your words, still busy poking and blatantly staring at your lips while you try (and unfortunately, fail) to form the proper sentences to say beneath his animalistic gaze.
“quit dozing off.” diluc sighs for the umpteenth time, snapping his fingers in front of your face. your glazed eyes flicker over to meet his intense scarlet gaze, and you merely smile in apology for allowing yourself to be distracted. but lately, you can’t really seem to help it — despite wanting to truly learn the art of winery, it’s already difficult enough to end up getting tutored and trying to concentrate with your boyfriend’s attractive face in your line of sight. “…did you write that down?”
you hum softly in assent, busy skimming through the entirety of what you had just written based on what he talked about for the last thirty minutes. however, what you’ll eventually fail to notice is how the tables have astonishingly turned — and for the ensuing ten solemn minutes of your diligent review, diluc’s attention becomes completely enraptured and foolishly dead-set on you.
“um, is there something on my face?” thoma awkwardly chimes, scratching his cheek in embarrassment when you finally realize you’ve been staring at him for…clearly way too long. which wasn’t entirely your fault! you were just never consciously aware of how attractive a man could look while passionately chattering about housekeeping, especially when it came to the courteous boy standing in front of you. “sorry, perhaps the concept was a bit confusing. why don’t i say that for you again?”
you hope he assumes it’s just that, to spare yourselves the imminent awkwardness upon realizing that you were actually secretly admiring his face. but when he turns around and you barely perceive the light flush of pink that clouds on his fair cheeks, you think to yourself that…you’re probably fucked, and you’re almost a hundred percent sure he just caught you openly gawking at him. but for some reason, something in his throaty cough and his inability to meet your unwavering gaze, makes it seems as though the feeling is mutual and oddly reciprocated anyway.
“maybe consider taking a photo, darling. it lasts longer.” childe snickers lightly when he sees you scoff at him with flushed cheeks. so sure, the cruel asshole was stupidly attractive and he clearly knew it. and sure, you may have stared at him for a tad too long this time…still! you could admit he was handsome, but you couldn’t bear to accept the fact that you were somehow, and perhaps almost impossibly, in love with such an arrogant and deceitful man. “i was kidding! jeez, don’t get all sensitive on me again. anyways, where were we…”
but you’ve probably never considered the fact that perhaps the reason why childe was so intent on flirting with you, was due to the fact that he had accidentally harbored some romantic emotions towards you as well. he’s normally good at getting to know girls and forming relationships with them, since you had always been more challenging than the rest, as well as difficult to get to open up. and although you’ve made it perfectly clear in your intentions that you would never even think about dating an utter jerk like him, he likes to think that the brief moment of vulnerability in your previously flustered state, gives him at least a sliver of a chance.
“you’re staring awfully hard, shrimp. it’s like you’re in love with me or something.” itto winks in a cheesy manner when he sees you come back to your senses — because the thought that pops in your mind processes as a concept that’s outrageous and utterly absurd. him? please. you’d be insane to want someone as terribly reckless and brute as him. but his horns are adorable, his face is oddly endearing, and deep down he’s actually some kind of silly, big and caring baby towards the people he cares about, including you… “you’re staring again.”
you’re not staring, you emphasize it to him again. you can still hear him right now, how he’s busy rambling about the irodori festival, and you’re too pre-occupied with drowning in his apricot-hued irises to discern how he slyly asks you to accompany him while visiting the merriment held in ritou. all you could do was nod at his request in stupor — and end up chastising yourself over and over later in the night, for carelessly falling for glazed orange eyes and that boisterous man who had walked you home with that stupidly victorious grin that evening.
A walking joke that can't do shit but cry Names Mia, 18y/o artist , 🇲🇾🇲🇾, trying so hard atm
132 posts