agcmbler - Tumblr blog

[agcmbler]

For a man so stuck up in his books, usually, he was a painfully good actor. Stoic faces, disdained scoffs and grumbles but beneath it all, a man who made his care for the world obvious to any pair of eyes that took more than just a passing glance at him. He cared for the well being of the universe, to supply everyone with the means to defend themselves and help themselves, even personally, with Aventurine, caring about his reckless ways, about his ruined sleep. If nothing else, those nightmares he suffered had been the driving factor to start laying the foundation of their relationship a little tighter.

He wanted him in his bed in the mornings, with his arms around him, with his nose against his neck. He wanted to see him quietly reading by the table, quietly working in the corner of his eye. He wanted to hold him, to brush his violet hair off his eyes, to fix his silly little laurel when it would inevitably be misplaced by his touch. All things that were a little bit too intimate for just friends to do, least of all colleague. He needed to open up his heart to him if he wanted that but the thought alone was terrifying. This dinner would help bridge the gap somehow. 'You finally remembered how to say compliments and not just complaints? Thank you, doctor. I'm flattered.' He teased playfully, his smile soft when he circled around his chair and plucked the bottle of fancy sparkling water out of the ice bucket to fill their glasses with it. 'I hope dinner is to your liking. I made sure it's at least nutritional.'

few   were   granted   the   privilege   of   a   true   glimpse   at   the   doctor's   feelings.   much   went   through   his   mind   and   while   frustration,   impatience   and   distaste   were   often   displayed   fairly   liberally,   it   was   self-consciousness,   doubt,   regret   and   plain   disappointment   that   he   typically   kept   to   himself.   it   had   nothing   to   do   with   his   reputation   or   the   way   others   perceived   him   on   a   conscious   level,   but   rather   with   simple   comfort.

he   was   not   used   to   sharing   parts   of   himself   with   others   that   were   so   personal,   flawed   and   bothersome.   there   may   be   nothing   wrong   with   doing   so,   but   it   felt   like   every   little   part   of   himself   opposed   baring   the   depths   of   his   heart.   nothing   as   profound   as   what   those   with   more   painful   pasts   experienced   weighed   on   his   shoulders,   he   simply   struggled   greatly   with   it   for   no   apparent   reason.

that   he   pulled   the   chair   out   for   him   had   him   huff   ever   so   faintly;   another   needless   gesture,   but   he   sat,   and   did   quietly   appreciate   the   attention.   once   properly   in   place,   his   gaze   lingered   on   the   gambler   once   more.   ❛    it's   hardly   been   that   long,   ❜   he   pointed   out,   then   paused   briefly,   and   grew   just   a   touch   softer   with   it,   although   it   seemed   to   take   him   a   moment   to   get   there.   ❛    you   look   wonderful.   thank   you   for   the   invitation.   ❜

[agcmbler]

@pantachorei asked: every move he made was tentative, mindful and accompanied by careful observation, for he would stop the second he was under the impression the gambler wished to oppose something. first, a hand carefully reached up, grasped his chin and kept his gaze directed towards his own, a silent few heartbeats passing before he moved to instead brush that jacket of his off his shoulders, though he had no intention to rob him of his clothes past that. then, his fingers trailed down his arms, gingerly and slowly while he shifted a little closer, head canting lightly, eyes never leaving those vibrant ones opposite of him. by the time he reached his wrists, his fingers deftly wiggled beneath his gloves, gradually pushed onto his palms and drew them off his hands. once his own digits founds his forearms again, he guided them up atop his shoulders, and his fingers into his hair. the scholar pushed closer still, eyes gradually growing half-lidded the less space was left between them, and his own hands coming to rest atop his hips. his nose touched against his cheek, tip tracing along his skin gently and lips parting almost against his better judgement, and slipping past his own knowledge.

Each time Veritas came to him so unexpectedly and with intentions he couldn't predict, he planted himself further under his skin. Of course the very first touch he offered was the definitive one -- not that he needed to direct his gaze onto him in the first place but it did mean that he kept his eyes on him throughout the whole process. Intoxicating as it was, difficult as it became to keep them open, to keep his heartbeat in check.

His composure went out of the window the moment he felt his fingers trailing down his arms and if he only knew that that was just the tip of the iceberg. He heard his jacket fall against the floor, the soft thud of heavy fabric pooling along his feet but he paid it little attention when he had more to focus on; like his fingers pushing under his gloves and forcing them down as well, having his hands twitch, as if possessed and come to life and push against his hands, eager to tangle their fingers together in that warm, inviting dance but Veritas had different ideas.

His breathing grew heavy and ragged, sounding loudly between them, in that small space that was left but he wasn't sure where to go from there. This was -- a prelude, he thought, something along the lines of it of what would come if he allowed that bridge between them to be crossed. He thought he rather liked the feeling of his fingers in his hair, of his nose pressed against his cheek and his soft, sweet scent enveloping him so fully he could easily convince himself outside of THEM, nothing really existed.

"Veritas," he murmured quietly, almost distracted by him completely and his head tilted to the side, his nose bumping against his. His fingers were slow and gentle, pushing further into that soft violet and farther still, as one hand slowly fell to his cheek, cradling him like he was something precious, something worth keeping close and protecting.

[agcmbler]

It wasn't easy by far to put himself in such a vulnerable state but much in his life wasn't. He was a gambler first and foremost and if he so easily gambled his life away in front of a barrel of a gun, then why couldn't he do the same for someone opening his heart to him? Aventurine wasn't stupid even if he sometimes liked to play the fool and the games they played tugged on his heartstrings so who was he to assume they wouldn't tug on Veritas'?

He did, after all, wear his heart on his sleeve in a painfully obvious manner.

That night he opened his heart to him played in his mind on repeat. How tired he sounded, how heavy the burden seemed. He wasn't an unkind man, Aventurine, nor was he made of the same material as his cornerstone. No, he was of flesh and blood, his heart beaten and bloodied but beating nevertheless and its want for the professor was palpable. His sincerity was something that was obvious, something even he couldn't ignore and when he watched him rendered speechless by his simple action, he thought this gamble wasn't just for him. 'Pointless? No.' He scoffed back, their dynamic not faltering despite the romantic setting. He led him to the other chair, to the plate sat out for him and pulled his chair out for him. 'Are you saying I'm lacking whimsy, doctor? You wound me. After all this time, have I become predictable?'

they   stood   at   the   precipice   of   either   something   gentle   and   comforting   or   a   gradual   drift   apart.   wandering   that   edge   was   daunting,   yes,   but   ratio   preferred   it   over   eternal   stagnation.   courting   someone   was   not   something   he   typically   engaged   in,   neither   would   he   say   he   had   much   experience   to   go   off   of,   but   it   was   not   the   kind   of   thing   he   could   navigate   through   theory,   either.   he   had   to   listen   to   his   own   heart,   to   his   feelings   and   the   thoughts   that   snuck   into   his   mind   without   proper   cause.

all   he   could   do   was   hope   aventurine,   both   endlessly   durable   and   fragile,   would   deem   him   important   enough   to   let   him   closer.   there   was   no   way   to   circumvent   that   choice   on   the   gambler's   part,   no   means   to   coax   vulnerability   from   him,   and   it   would   be   inappropriate   to   do   so,   too—   all   the   scholar   could   do   was   wait.   he   had   to   concede,   though,   that   the   way   he   grasped   his   hand   warmed   his   heart,   the   way   he   glanced   at   him   seemed   to   soften   it   and   the   kiss   to   his   knuckles   squeezed   it   gently   within   his   very   chest.   he   was   rendered   speechless,   watching   the   gambler   as   though   frozen   in   time,   and   only   came   back   to   when   he   had   to   take   a   breath   again.   he   reached   out,   gently   brushed   a   strand   of   hair   from   those   charming   features,   but   scoffed   faintly,   half-heartedly.   ❛    pointless   flattery,   ❜   he   said,   though   gently.   ❛    is   there   an   occasion   to   this,   or   did   a   mere   whim   spark   it   ?   ❜

[agcmbler]

He was sure he wouldn't succeed and if he did then he would gladly give up his own eyes for a chance to know another of his tribe still lived. To not feel so alone in the massive universe, so devoid of anyone that could emphatize and share in the same lifestyle he once led. The price was well worth the possibility.

Though, one could argue he was too lucky to ever pay the price he was willing to pay. He wondered if he would feel tricked when he would learn that nothing remains of the avgin on Sigonia IV. And if he did, what would he do?

Someone as deranged as a man asking for eyes as ornaments would surely approach this sanely, no? 'You've studied them, haven't you? ' He questioned with somehow his disgust veild. 'Saw the minuscule difference between left and right. You'll know if they're not the right ones.'

"Alive and well?" He repeats, allowing the young man to grab at his wrist. "I suppose that would be best for keeping them fresh." He concedes. He'll ask Silver Wolf to look into some things for him later, after all there was seldom something she couldn't find and he was sure he could do whatever foolish favor she asked for in return.

The gambler's smile is met with one of his own, unfeeling and devoid of warmth. A shallow mimicry. The other man is freed. "Not at all."

"But seeing with my eyes is the only way to ensure that you use your own." Blade affirms with a nod. A contract it is.

[agcmbler]

---- after turning 30 i am now back to officially do what 30 year olds do

exactly the same thing i was doing at 29

[agcmbler]

He stands still when his chin is grasped, his gaze unchanged, aside from growing more keen as the other looks at him closer but he feels an icy chill run down his spine when his eyes are inspected ; he did do this to himself this time, bet his eyes as a commodity but if he does find a matching pair, he is more than happy to trade them away.

'Pink and blue.' He says matter-of-factly and continues to look at the stranger unbothered by the proximity. 'I'm not asking for every freckle to match precisely. But they have to be authentic, like mine, and still attached to the person they belong to who I want to see alive and well myself.' He clarified lest he would send a madman after another lone avgin in the universe, if one should exist. His gaze softens, a charming smile curls his lips and he pats the hand that holds him. 'Are you saying a blind man can't craft? Is seeing with your eyes the only way you perceive our surroundings? How narrow minded of you. You let me worry about the details. If my word alone isn't enough, then--' Finally he attempts to yank himself out of the man's grip, his own fingers wrapped around his this wrist. 'I'll draw you a contract.'

As someone who had lived the life of a prized blacksmith, and had a fine eye for detail, Blade's head tilts. This almost felt similar to discussing a commission.

"If that is what you seek, I will agree if you allow me the answers to two questions. One: due to the flawed nature of organic beings, no two eyes are the same." A hand grabs at the young man's chin, and he leans closer, staring at one eye then the other comparatively. "Even your own. Looking at them, your left and right eye are not equal. Thus, do you simply mean to say that so long as the colors are comparable, it is an equivalent exchange?" The hand loosens and he takes a step back.

"Two: How are you to tailor anything... with no eyes?"

[agcmbler]

They stood on an odd edge between romance and friendship. Somewhere along the path, a line had been crossed when their shared feelings had been expressed in quiet and roundabout ways and while Aventurine wasn't blind, romance was a thoroughly vulnerable and open way to share oneself with someone else. Never mind all the ways a relationship like theirs could be exploited by his peers. He had to trust Veritas that he would know to spot the schemes and tricks of the rest of the stonehearts, least of all the IPC but keeping a distance because he was afraid of being caught again seemed cruel to them both. Veritas especially when he seemed so exhausted at times with the constant push and pull.

This dinner was a pull closer that even he himself couldn't pull away from, though how close it would bring them was yet to be seen.

When he arrived, he felt his heart skip a beat in quiet anticipation. He was nervous but in an excited, giddy way that had the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand and his skin gently tingle. He looked up when he joined him in the dining room, his book set aside and he looked at his offered hand, gentle and affectionate and always proving that the gamble of placing himself within them had been the right choice each time and he hummed. His gaze traveled from it to the rest of the doctor, the sharp, smart way he dressed, the softness of his rose eyes and the small curve of his lips, to the way his hair brushed along his cheeks and he knew he wanted that sight to greet him more often. 'Whyever would I spoil the surprise for you?' He took the offered hand and stood, though soon bent down to press his lips against his knuckles, his eyes looking up to meet his. 'You're dashing, as always.'

given   the   lack   of   further   information   regarding   that   invitation   of   his,   veritas   decided   that   a   somewhat   smart   casual   style   of   outfit   would   be   a   fitting   choice.   his   few   words   had   indicated   that   he   had   planned   something   out   of   the   ordinary,   after   all,   but   in   case   his   interpretation   missed   the   mark   he   did   not   want   to   make   a   complete   fool   of   himself   by   being   vastly   overdressed.   he   made   his   way   over   and   arrived   just   before   the   indicated   time   (   and   with   a   softly   irksome   skip   to   his   heart;   excitement   and   anticipation   that   he   struggled   to   temper   )   and   entered   through   the   door   that   was,   as   always,   left   unlocked.   once   inside,   he   glanced   about   and   located   the   gambler   soon   enough,   his   gaze   set   firmly   on   him.   he   looked   more   tempting,   somehow,   and   the   lighting   as   well   as   the   meal   he   spotted   nearby   made   it   quite   clear   that   he   was   planning   for   a   more   explicitly   romantic   evening,   that   time.   ❛    would   it   not   have   been   appropriate   to   inform   me   regarding   a   dress   code   ?   ❜   he   questioned   as   he   made   his   way   over   to   him,   and   offered   his   hand,   a   silent   request   for   the   gambler's.

[agcmbler]

As soon as he received Veritas' confirmation, he set to work. He cooked homemade dinner; a sea bass for each with perfectly crispy skin seasoned with simple spices and rosemary, butterflied perfectly down the middle and with the bones taken out, roasted baby potatoes in their jacket and a side of carrots with a refreshing tartar sauce and lemon slices on the side. The lightning was lowered, dimmed for intimacy, the table set with a tablecloth, two candles and a bucket of ice with a glass bottle of water inside. He himself was nicely dressed, though that he looked good was nothing out of the ordinary and when the time came for Veritas to join him, he was found in the dining room, reading idly by the table and waiting for him.

@pantachorei

[agcmbler]

The proximity bothered him but he was used to putting himself into uncomfortable positions and suffering through them. Had this stranger approached him in a more normal setting, perhaps he would have even enjoyed a conversation with him. As it stood, Aventurine saw an opportunity and a way maybe engage in a little bit of mischief of his own.

He had meant his eyes at first but the preposition he made had him thinking. He tilted his head and pursed his lips, knowing full well that the only pair of pink and blue eyes in this universe belonged to him alone.

'Find me a matching set.' He offered and lightly tapped his chest with the back of his hand. 'And don't worry, you'll be getting the originals for your cuff links. Taylor made by yours truly.

Blade is unbothered by their proximity. After all, if this man could give him the eternal slumber he sought after so desperately, all the more reason to remain 'unguarded'.

An eye for an eye. Blade's head tilts and he considers seriously. Yes, that would be a fair trade... in most cases. But if it was simply an eye he sought, this would be an uneven exchange.

"Name the color of the eyes you want, I will retrieve them for you. But I must warn you. Though I am most willing, if it is my own you seek, this deal will not end in your favor. Should you still accept those terms and later find it unfair, there will be no heed to your cries."

[agcmbler]

..........nailed it

[agcmbler]

[txt] it was [txt] come around seven today [txt] :3c

@agcmbler : [txt] will you be coming over tonight?

[ txt ] I am assuming that is an invitation, so yes.

[agcmbler]

@pantachorei asked

mornings   tend   to   see   ratio   a   touch   more   easily   affectionate,   and   the   closest   to   clingy   he   is   likely   capable   of   being.   that   morning,   he   drew   the   gambler   against   his   chest   first,   a   heavy,   drawn   sigh   exhaled,   before   he   felt   about   until   he   found   his   hand.   with   eyes   yet   closed,   he   drew   it   up   to   his   lips,   lazily   pressing   half   open   kisses   anywhere   he   might   reach;   his   wrist,   his   knuckles,   the   back   of   his   hand.

Mornings spent with Ratio were quickly becoming his favourite. He was used to him being a touch clingier than what he expected but still to feel him draw him against his chest was new and it quickly caught him aback.

Mornings with him saw him waking earlier than normal -- the nightmares had already ended his days of lazing until late morning but even with them subdued in his company, Veritas was an early riser and Aventurine appreciated the way he clung to him more than he did sleep itself.

He was speechless that morning, his heart skipping to a faster pace and his breath quietly caught in his throat when he felt his arm around him. He was awake, and when his hand searched for his, he wrapped his fingers gently around his palm. How odd that he felt to such softness in the morning when they were hardly defined as anything at all, how odd that he showered him in affection when he usually waited until they parted to show such softness. His hand was warm where his lips touched his skin and he felt quietly breathless when he watched him, the early morning light giving him that all too flawed glow he adored; the perfection he usually sculpted of himself hidden behind messy soft curls and pale skin and quiet, groggy voice.

Pure imperfections he adored.

He leaned forward, his lips finding the bridge of his nose as he offered his own, quiet kiss. His fingers laced between his and his lips pressed another one of those small kisses against his forehead, appreciative and affectionate and quietly vulnerable all at once.

[agcmbler]

This kind of interaction was nothing new for the gambler; his personal space was invaded and a part of his body inspected as commodity and the worst he got were a few hairs standing at the nape of his neck -- used to as he was to being treated as something so easily taken apart and sold off. He watched him eye his suit and felt disgust at the way he must have imagined his eyes looking against the dark canvas.

Aventurine donned his usual smile and charmingly tilted his head, his eyes glued pointedly onto his. Amber honey, invitingly calling to trap him in.

'Oh no, my friend.' He began and took a step forward himself, until he was the one invading the personal space of this unsettling stranger. 'I'm not looking for cash. An eye for and eye, right?'

How odd. This person here seemed to be responding to his 'flirting quite well, even so much as offering up his eyes. Blade tilts his head, staring at the other man blankly before rising to his feet and leaning in to a distance that most people would find uncomfortable. He stares at those eyes, then backs off, raising his arm to look at where a cufflink would be.

He finds that he would look quite nice.

"That would do nicely." He comments. "Monetary compensation is of no consequence to me. Name your price."

[agcmbler]

Those words were nothing new for him; his eyes were the subject of as much admiration as they were of contempt and Aventurine quite frankly felt little for compliments that surrounded them. And in usual circumstances, he would think nothing of it but in his still current fragile state of mind, the comment from a stranger brought back a memory he hadn't thought of in a very long time.

You don't know how many people long for your eyes to be closed forever.

Said eyes looked to the stranger sitting on the stoop. He looked young, well dressed with lovely long hair running down his shoulders; he was pretty and seemingly far too poised to be sitting on a stoop like that but judging people by their first impression wasn't productive. He himself knew just how well people wore their masks when facing the public.

'Thanks,' he says, letting the door close behind him, 'You want them? Hell, I'll even make them into matching cuff links for your suit if you name the right price~'

@agcmbler

Unfortunately, Blade was quite the heartbreaker in his youth. He was, after all, a very handsome young man (better than Jing Yuan, certainly) he just had standards. He still has standards. Blade sits calmly on the stoop, mouth filling with edible items he obtained to fill the void (it wasnt working).

Once the blond emerges from the building, he glances at him, looks him up and down and proceeds to grimace.

This is what I have to work with? The man looked like a dropped salad. Sure, all the best ingredients were there but why did he look like... that? What was this feeling of burning dislike?

"Your eyes are quite charming. They would make for nice jewels." That was a compliment, right? Flirting?

[agcmbler]

It wasn't easy to accept that despite his best efforts, someone managed to push beneath his skin. He didn't get close to people. he played the part but no one knew what he went through, specifically, no one knew the kind of person he was underneath that smug and arrogant mask he wore -- except for perhaps Veritas, whose sincerity somehow cut through those many layers around his heart, whose no nonsense approach made him relax and offer bits and pieces of himself in between the never ending performance he put on each and every moment of his life. This was as open as he could get, sitting in the early morning light in his kitchen, watching the subject of his affection speak dryly but words that implied a kind of intimacy he deep down craved; normalcy with another person, a trust built with someone else, something unattainable for the gambler. He did grow soft but his eyes trailed over what parts of his body he could see and he did quietly imagined what it would be like to see him work out, in his own element. 'That depends, how much space are you going to take? I'm afraid you'll have to show me today so I can gauge that for myself~'

that   the   gambler   struggled   to   let   others   close   was   obvious,   and   what   bits   the   scholar   knew   of   his   background   made   such   a   struggle   easy   to   understand.   his   fondness   for   him   ought   to   be   a   thorn   in   his   side,   especially   so   since   it   was   obvious   that   the   gambler   shared   the   sentiment   at   least   to   some   degree.   the   way   they   danced   about   the   matter   wasn't   making   things   easy   on   his   very   own   heart,   but   he   saw   the   necessity   in   it   to   such   a   sufficient   degree   that   he   did   not   oppose   it   entirely.   besides,   he   had   moments   that   saw   him   act   so   sweetly   that   ratio,   unfortunately,   found   himself   hung   up   on   them   over   what   wrongdoings   there   could   be.   ❛    a   dangerously   generous   offer,   ❜   he   hummed.   ❛    i'm   certain   you   wouldn't   be   opposed   to   having   me   working   out   in   your   living   room,   either.   ❜

[agcmbler]

[agcmbler]

--- i live, kinda!! i;m around and lurking still but i'm gonna try and be more active in the coming week. i'm pretty bad at staying consistent though sobs