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ineylesian · 1 month

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— FELL ON BLACK DAYS

AVENTURINE X FEM! READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 9.5k

WARNINGS — spoilers for penacony’s storyline, enemies (??) to lovers, slowburn fr (it gets good i promise) mentions of genocide, mentions of child exploitation (not explicit), weapons & violence, smut, fem anatomy reader, sub!aventurine, mentions of traumatic events, one bed troupe

SUMMARY — Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — AHHH i love aventurine so much he made me write again <333 i will defend this man to the end of the earth i swear. also holy word vomit, this is officially my longest piece!!

“BREAKING NEWS: Reports incoming that the International Peace Corporation has been seen with an employee suspected of Avgin origin from the planet Sigonia-IV. All habitants from this world were thought to have been wiped out or lost to the galaxy, so the appearance of this mysterious individual has grasped the attention of–”

The broadcast slowly fades into the background, overtaken by the synth and snare of a song that lightly shakes the ground at your feet.

Sometimes you’re better of dead–

“Oh, you think you’ll be an asset? You’ll have to learn to make tough decisions on the go here if you want to succeed, so tell me…”

There’s a gun in your hand, it’s pointing at your head–

“You want to help this clan? Help claim this world and rid it from the remaining filth that roams?”

There’s a piercing screech amidst the bar, the high pitched wail of the speaker blasting the music fighting against the volume. A few seconds pass before the song picks back up again, a few lyrics skimmed through.

Which do you choose, a hard or soft option? (How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world, The East End boys and the West End girls–

“...”

“Before your initiation, you must make a prayer to the winds and mountains. Do you swear to devote your thoughts and beliefs to them, and reclaim the glory of Sigonia-IV?”

We’ve got no future, we’ve got no past

Here today, built to last–

“I swear.”

The bass fades and you’re left standing amidst a crowd of chatting people, some high on buzz, others passed out beside the restroom. Your eyes slowly fix forward, coming to a halt as the masses shift in formation, curving in a circle around the biggest table in the casino. Lined with forest green felt and red chips, hands bang against the surface joined in a cry of frustration.

“God damn it. This is rigged!” A player screams, hot-faced and teeth grit. “YOU!”

He stomps his way around the table, stopping at the dealer’s chair, failing to gain any attention despite the magnitude of his boots on the floor. In retaliation, the man takes a fistfull of the dealer’s hair, spinning him violently around and grabbing the collar around his neck.

Seldom have there been times where you didn’t see him in this sort of setting, a man with glasses that carried the same orange tint as the drink in his hand, die mounted between his fingers as he speaks with a wealthy patron. His words weave like velvet on a fine tailored suit as he invites you to play a game of chance, and before the game has even begun, you’ve lost.

His name is Aventurine, and, just as his reputation precedes him, the corners of his lips turn upward as you enter his field of view. He is never one to be down on luck.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to exit the casino. The drinks have riled you up a bit too much, and I’m afraid you’re no longer sober enough to keep playing.”

The smell of outlandish alcohol hits your nose in a foul wave as he turns, rudely shrugging your hand off of his shoulder.

“And who do you think you are? Protecting this weasel like that.” You take a step back as he advances, completely abandoning his grip on Aventurine as his gaze focuses on the emblem tailored to your shoulder. “You’re in on this scam too, aren’t you? Fuckin’ IPC, always looking to take money from people.” A sizable crowd has gathered at this point, and with that, guards are quick to stand at your side. You tilt your head to the side, extending a hand to gesture at the coat draped over his empty chair.

“You may gather your things and leave now, sir. Refusal to comply will result in you being forcibly removed.”

A few more seconds of seething stares pass before he grumbles an insult toward you and rushes to gather his things, attempting to push the guards following him away. You sigh, turning to the dealer, who is now comfortable in his chair, feathered hat placed neatly on his lap as he shuffles the pool of cards pushed his way.

“Alright folks, now that’s over with, how about another–”

“Mr. Aventurine unfortunately won’t be able to join you all this round.” You quickly cut him off, laying the newly layered deck of cards onto the table. “May I have a word, please?”

The blonde takes a glance between you and the rest of the patrons at the table before nodding, allowing a charismatic smile to decorate his face as he slides the cards forward.

“Of course. Miss Antonia, would you please find another dealer to step in for the remaining games?”

He gathers a kind nod from a nearby waitress, before turning to follow you outside of the casino. As the door opens, strong drafts of icy wind blow against your face, and you hear a shiver from behind.

“Sheesh, couldn’t we at least have talked inside? I didn’t come prepared to stand in the cold…”

You send a look his way, and Aventurine’s hands rise, lips pursed in faux apology. He pushes his glasses farther into his nose bridge as you lean against the casino’s exterior wall, shielding yourself from the chill. It’s clear he’s not taking you seriously, stifling out a yawn and rubbing his eyes before he even spares you a glance.

“Here to lecture me about the, wait…” His eyes suddenly narrow, honing in on your uniform. “Who are you?”

You remain silent, watching as he taps a few fingers against his forehead, thinking. The talisman of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department sits firmly laid into your uniform. A smoothly carved onyx, inferior to the cornerstone you know he possesses and certainly lacking in power. His eyes linger on the stone for a few moments, biting the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head back up.

“Never seen that stone before..” He says after a few seconds, voice substantially lower. “What rank are you?”

His gaze is opaque, on guard. You resist the urge to bite your lip, figuring lying in this kind of situation wouldn’t be the best decision. Subconsciously, you bring a hand up to your stone, adjusting your coat flap before bringing it back down.

“P39.”

His eyebrows form a sharp line, but his lips remain flat. The lens behind thick shades linger on the stone, burning into the lights that reflect off of the darkness. He’s never seen someone who isn’t a part of the Ten Cornerstones wear something like this, so who are you?

“If you’re here to try and convince me to do something, I’m not interested. I’ve had enough orders drilled into my head since I came to Jarilo-VI.”

His forefront is confident, but you can see the hand that lingers at his side, struggling to stay put. It reeks of mild uncertainty, and a lack of security. He doesn’t feel safe when he’s not in control.

“I’m here to tell you that your assignment’s changed.” Your response is straight and to the point. There’s no room to betray any underlying feelings of guilt you may have from years passed. “You’ll be with me and my team, we’re going to the Loufu in three days to sort some business out. I suggest you finish your deals here before we go.”

“Well then.” Aventurine clicks his tongue, mild annoyance riding the smile that forms on his lips. “Let’s acquaint ourselves then, shall we? You must know who I am, so please allow me the pleasure of returning the favor.”

A small passage of frosty air rises into the atmosphere as he breathes, hand extending in formality. You take it, slowly shaking, taking in the defensive rise of his shoulders. It seems he has zero tolerance for strangers.

“Nice to meet you, Aventurine. They call this stone the onyx.”

–

The Interastral Peace Corporation only takes workers to be strong-minded and just as toughly willed. In the Strategic Investment Department, greed is a virtue, and wanting nothing but it all is a prayer. Those who earn their spot as a cornerstone will stop at no means to chase their desires.

Aventurine values risk, but he always loves to have control in his corner. Without control, the chips in his hands are of no use, and his bargains crumble beneath him.

A gambler's true nightmare, sitting right between his eyes.

Your relation to him is a true mystery, despite all of the digging he’s been doing after arriving at the Loufu. Despite the numerous deals you’ve closed together, he still fails to know anything about you, other than the fact that you have quick wit and fascinating knowledge of the universe. He won’t dare approach you directly, his inhibitions are too high and he knows too little.

However, there’s something off about you and that stone of yours. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before.

“Does the IPC really need that many funds to perform a vitality check on the Sky-Faring Commission? From what I remember, this is nearly triple the amount of last year’s fee.”

“Well, Helm Master, from what our reports say, you had agreed to the accumulation of interest based on reports of safety in the Loufu. Based on recent events, there has been a substantial raise in alarm concerning the safety of the citizens here. We hope you can understand.”

Aventurine unfolds his hands, sliding a glossy black dossier over to the woman known as Yukong. After skimming over the first page of analysis, she sighs, and places her hand over the cover.

“Is it possible that we could touch bases on this later this week? I need time to look over these documents and discuss them with my team before making any decisions.”

Biting back a groan of exasperation, you nod, politely shaking her hand and bowing your head when she stands. What you thought was going to be a quick excursion of debt collecting had turned into two long weeks of debate, and you’re starting to lose sleep. After Yukong exits, you run a hand through your hair, allowing the flow from the outside to flood your ears..

You can admit, the place they chose is certainly impressive in its theatrics, blooming with tall fountains of pristine water and a live band of foxians playing classical music on a mahogany stage.

After a few minutes of jotting down notes you find yourself leaning against the bar’s edge, elbows cool against smooth wood. Your thoughts swirl like the vibrato of the woman singing a cover of a local song in a language unknown to you, but it’s calming, and you begin to itch with the desire to order a drink.

The waiter polishing glasses near you seems to pick up on your wants, quietly gesturing with her hand that she’ll take your order.

“A Rose in Rain, please.”

She makes your drink at an astonishing speed, sliding the glass next to your hands with a smile. You stare at the royal blue liquid sitting at the rim, contemplating if the hangover will be worth it.

Aventurine eyes the finger that rests along the base of the glass, humming quietly to himself. He figures there’s no better way to get to know someone than through a few drinks.

“You gonna drink that or keep staring at it?”

You turn your head, watching as he slides onto the barstool next to you. He raises his three outer fingers, ordering a small glass of Wintry Garden before turning to face you.

It’s been a long month with the Cornerstone. His approach remains restricted, evident in his snippets of sarcasm that he still doesn’t trust you. Your situation is… unusual, so you tolerate it. However, there still lies a fear within that he’ll go deeper than what’s for his own good.

“Do you usually drink? Or are you afraid to spill your guts?”

His words drip with conviction, blindly accusing you with the corners of his mouth tilted upward. It’s been too long, and he still doesn’t know a damn thing about you other than the stone you wear. He needs to flip this in his favor, fast.

Aventurine’s fingers drum against the bar’s edge as he picks up his drink, taking a small sip. The slight tilt of his head inclines you to start yours too, drinking half of the tall glass in one swig. His eyebrows raise in surprise when the drink hits the table, taking all but a few seconds to completely down the entirety of its contents, a resounding clink following.

When you don’t rush to finish your own drink, Aventurine chuckles, crossing his arms as he turns to face you fully. He’s eyeing you, daring smile plastered on his face.

“What, scared?”

He’s challenging you. And it works, since your drink is empty and you’re ordering a second round in a matter of seconds. Fizz sluggishly bubbles down your throat, followed by rich spots of thick, clear syrup.

A few drinks is all it takes for you to begin feeling lightheaded, pressing a palm into your eye to try and alleviate the nausea. Aventurine is at least 6 drinks in, setting down his next with an exaggerated sigh. Raising his hand for another, he lightly dings his glass against yours, the scent of redsunset sauce high on his breath.

“Let’s talk, Onyx.” He remarks, placing his hands on the table as the bartender comes over. “What’s the real deal with you? How come I haven’t seen you anywhere in the IPC and you show up in my faction one random day?”

You cough, attempting to clear your throat before you answer. It’s tough to keep your resolve with the amount of alcohol in your system.

“Maybe you’re just not perceptive enough, I’ve always been around.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like your answer. Another drink down.

“How many years have you worked for the IPC?”

“Almost 4 now.”

“What’s the entrance project that got you into the Strategy Department?”

You hesitate, and he grins, satisfied. This interrogation is going as planned.

“Well then? I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad, unless you’re more dangerous than you seem.”

It’s your turn to down a drink, wiping a small trace off of your chin as you think.

“Izumo.” You answer, short, watching as his fingers clasp tighter around the glass in his hand. Surprise.

“You really expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a tinge of fire evident in his voice. “No one goes to Izumo any more, not after the slash.”

“You’d be surprised at the sheer amount of people that go to Magatsu no Morokami to uncover history. The IPC has their eyes set on valuable relics left behind from the war.”

He leans forward, dangerously close to your face. Past the thick orange lens of his aviators, you can see the irate spark in his eyes, alight with a plethora of shades you’ve never seen before.

“It’s not wise to lie to your superiors.”

You back away, sliding your card across the counter to the bartender. The moment Aventurine gets up to follow, you stop in your tracks, holding a small drive in his direction. You have some tricks up your sleeve, too.

“You’ll change your mind.”

He pauses, slightly bent over in a stupor of alcohol.

“Best keep your cards close to your chest, Aventurine. Snooping in places you don’t belong bodes bad fortune.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Slowly, he takes the drive from your hand, leaning back onto the bar’s surface, eyebrows knit in thought. The world is suddenly too loud and amidst a flurry of harmonic bellows and blinding lights, you disappear.

—

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGY INVESTMENT DEPARTMENT HQ | ONE MONTH LATER

“I guess I should apologize.”

Several weeks of absence. You look up from the papers on your desk, watching as Aventurine places your drive back on your desk. He straightens back up, waiting for you to respond.

“Understandable.” You answer, finalizing a document with a quick signature. “I would have had my apprehensions too.”

“Still do, but it’s better to work with someone you tolerate, right?”

You look up. He shrugs, eyeing the papers you have scattered around.

You had given him a flash drive with your report on Izumo, or, at least, a report on it. Sometimes things are left best buried. Still, Aventurine is certainly not stupid, and you know that. The final version of the report is vague and full of small incidents that contrast the planet’s true history There are inconsistencies, but he seems a little less hostile for the time being.

“Whatever you’re hiding from me, I intend to find out in due time. But I can’t do that if we’re at odds.” A hand is extended your way, held a little less straight and professional. “Let’s just try and hate each other a little less, huh?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you take his hand and shake it for the second time. Aventurine smiles at you, a little less pointedly, but still on guard.

“Friends it is, then.”

His grip tightens slightly at the proclamation, leaving your veins seared and eyes wavering. As if you just made a deal with the devil. Your gaze drags along the fancies of his coat, figuring this is just another gamble he’s won. Something closer to certain death; the passion for it intrigues you.

Sooner or later you’ll suffer the consequences of a lie, you tell yourself. There’s no good outcome when striking up an agreement with a gambler, especially one like Aventurine.

Especially when the gambler is holding a knife to your throat.

The blade is cool, barely holding back from your trachea. Leather gloves hold a fistfull of your hair, shoving you down onto the filing cabinet you were sifting through moments before. Your eyes dart around, only able to see the edge of his shoe pressing against your ankle and the papers you dropped scattered across the floor.

“Just as I thought we were getting along.” His spits, words slithering around your chest and settling around your neck. “It was only a matter of time before you slipped up.”

Confusion spreads across your features, and Aventurine scoffs. His shoe digs deeper into your achilles, and you stagger against the metal.

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Your words come out choked, gasping for air against Aventurine’s hold.

“That man, the one you had a long conversation with at the meeting tonight? You two seemed to get along.” Aventurine’s breath runs short out of anger, grip scalding against your skin. “You know him, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, tracing the night’s events back several hours. You only recall shaking two men’s hands, one being the esteemed Doctor Ratio’s, and the other the reason why you were down in the IPCs archives. He was dressed nothing short of what a gentleman would wear, offering you many commending words as he spoke of the recent inflation concerning the astral economy. However, you didn’t miss the brilliant stone embedded in the shell of his tie, reflecting vibrant colors you’ve only seen once in your lifetime. And neither did he.

“Pretty stone isn’t it?.” Aventurine continues, pressing your hands against the wall you’re shoved against. “I’ve seen it a lot throughout my lifetime, but I’m sure you know that already. Silly me, forgetting how easy it is to conceal them.”

He reaches for your shoulder, and you push back, using the slightly stagger of his feet to grab the blade’s edge, violently smashing your head into his and spinning him around. His blade traded for your stone.

“I’d like to know…” His fingers flip the stone around, taking in the colorless mass, like a void amidst the stars. With a quick swipe of his hand, a lighter is held to it, engulfing the black in a dance of pale fire. Aventurine shakes the rising smoke off of him after a few moments, and your eyes narrow.

“...Why you have this?”

Turquoise meteorite, a brilliant blue stone infused with veins of a green just as bright. A kind of beauty that could only be found on Sigonia, tailored in a way only an Avgin could. The crafter spoke of a tactic that could hide the stone’s true color, while keeping its spirit alive with you still.

Blood drips from your hand, staining your clothes a deep crimson. Gritting your teeth together, you slice a sleeve of your dress shirt off, slowly wrapping it around the wound.

Aventurine stands, still, fury riding his waterline. His glasses sit beside his feet, hues of purple and blue wavering in the dim light. His hand slowly clenches, in and out, smoothing the cooled piece over his palm.

“What now, Katican?” His voice is quiet, gently ricocheting off of concrete walls. “Came to settle one last score, fulfilling your dream of tracking down the last Avgin? Oh, I bet you’re itching to use that knife right now.”

You step to the side, shaking bloodstained papers off of your feet. The knife drops to the ground, scraping cruelty against the ground as you kick it to a corner far out of your reach. A sharp intake of breath follows, and he steps back.

“I’m no Katican.” Your tone is low, locking eyes with Aventurine, his gaze darts from the knife to you. “The stone was a gift from an Avgin I saved during the second extinction.”

The air is stale, prickling with fear as you pass. Aventurine stands tall, but you know all too well that his greatest fear has come alight in this very room. The thought of coming face to face with a Katican chases him in his nightmares each dusk, a terror looming over his head akin to a raging storm. For once, he’s speechless, completely dumbstruck, mind racing to comprehend all that you’ve bestowed upon him. So little said, yet so great a burden unveiled.

You would be right in telling him that such information is better left buried. Yet Aventurine knows only how to shatter the destiny that calls for him, and monumental change has left in its wake.

He opens his mouth to speak, yet words fail him. The hand holding the stone sits slotted behind his back, holding on to it as he would a birthright. A piece of his past that would never bless him again, sitting in the shade of Sigonia’s darkest nights, mimicking a color that does not belong to it. He wants to scream, take his knife and shove it so hard into your chest that it comes out on the other side.

“I am on your side, Aventurine. I always have been.”

After forcing himself to swallow, he straightens up, but you’re already gone.

Distantly, a heavy thud hits the floor.

–

TUMBLEWEED, SALSOTTO.

“I’m Daisy, here this morning with Tumbleweed’s daily weather report. As usual, there’s sun about. However, a rude awakening is coming at around 6pm, as a pretty hefty thunderstorm is coming our way. Make sure you carry your umbrellas! And remember, as our beloved Fleetworld Marc says, thunder only happens when it’s destined.”

Destiny. The word lingers in your head as a pang of hunger hits your insides. Placing your last suitcase beside your bed, you set off for your hotel room’s kitchen. Reaching over and opening a cabinet, you groan when it reveals itself to be empty.

Shrugging your coat over your shoulders, you pocket your room card. However, when you open your door, you’re quick to step back, feeling your heart rate spike instantly in shock.

“Uh…” You take a few short breaths, regaining your composure. “Can I help you?”

The man standing before you is no other than Aventurine, chin receding as he looks at you with evident confusion.

“Can I help you?” He retorts, flipping his hotel card up to the light. “This is my room.”

You pull the exact same card out of your pocket, and the two of you share looks of bewilderment. After reading over the numbers on your card for what felt like the 50th time, Aventurine sighs, long and drawn out.

“Well, this isn’t what I imagined when the front desk told me they could fit a room in for me.”

“I’ll go ask–”

You’re cut off with a swift wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother, I already did. They’re fully booked for the next week.”

Before you know it, both Aventurine and his bags are heading into your… your room. Exhaling, you mutter a quiet “okay..” and follow him inside. However, he’s quick to stop you once you make it past the bathroom, exaggeratedly pointing toward the wall to your right.

“This has to be some kind of joke, right?” Aventurine laughs, pulling his glasses off as if attempting to see better.

His gaze is fixed on the bed sitting across from you. The single bed, accompanied with a single nightstand and a TV. In that moment, you both share a second groan, and Aventurine palms his face.

“I’ll figure this out.”

In a matter of moments, he’s gone, suitcases set haphazardly on the ground beside you. After a few minutes of thought, you head to the bathroom, soaking your hands in cold water. A brief inhale follows the icy chill that drags over your face, and you silently curse destiny.

A few hours pass before Aventurine returns, shirt slightly ruffled, annoyance clearly displayed upon his features. The click of boots melds into the soft step of socks as he enters the kitchen, and you silently pass a bowl of fried rice you had been able to scavenge from a local grocery store over. Running a hand through his hair, he nods your way, sliding into the stool across from you and stopping the bowl with his fingers.

“As you could have guessed, there are zero people in this whole building willing to switch rooms with us.”

“Ah, yeah. Tourists are usually snobby.”

A hum signifies his response. Silence encompasses the room as a blanket would, save the soft clangs of silverware on bowls. You fix your gaze on the granite countertops, following intricately woven lines of mixed stone and drawing patterns in each section you come across. Becoming so immersed in the cracks, you don’t even notice when Aventurine passes you twice, once with his bowl, and once without. Seconds turn into minutes as you stare at the sheet of stone, only taken away from thought when he returns to the table, dressed in a black set of silk pyjamas.

“What’s your story?”

Your eyelashes flutter, taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Raising your head, you push the now cold rice to the side and glance at the man across from you, fingers interlocked in wait.

You’re shocked at the simplicity of it. The lack of accusations are a breath of fresh air when it comes to his words, typically cold fronted and dripping with malice. You would expect him to be angry still, perhaps even worse, giving that you lied, but you can feel the genuine curiosity lingering within. He seems to want to understand.

“I joined the IPC when I was young, almost ten years ago.” You start, fighting the urge to snap away from his gaze. “In my second year, word was out that there was trouble on Sigonia. It was thought that the IPC had it under control, but everyone knew there was something else coming.”

You pause. Aventurine remains quiet, attentive.

“I took it upon myself to convince my superiors to send me to Sigonia, despite their warnings. But… the work we did there, it wasn’t enough. I could help no one under the bounds of the IPC, so I sought out the Katicans. No more bounds. I was on the inside, where I could do things my own way.”

“Such lovely people, weren’t they?” He questions, apathy leaking from deep within. “Didn’t have a single care in the world other than themselves. They wanted to see everything burn, the women, children.”

“I have never seen a deeper hatred than what lies within them.”

You stop, again, toying with your fingers. Aventurine’s silence beckons you to proceed.

“I could only help so many, and they all ended up dying anyway. There was no escaping them, they were ruthless.” Your voice trails off, shaking your head slightly at the recollection of dark days in the wasteland they call Sigonia. No horrors match the ones that took place there. “I couldn’t imagine what you went through, any of you. And still, you’re alive.”

A word softly chants in your head. Destiny.

“Ever since I was born, I knew what was made out for me was never good.” Aventurine says, a hint of irony in his voice. “I fell on black days without knowing what it was like to live on the other side, and it’s been like that since.”

Flashes of your past mix in with current thought. You remember them, the Avign children, clinging to scraps of life even when it was evident their lives would soon end. Their eyes, just as brilliant as his, drowned by crashing waves, yet afloat on the prayer of hope. You imagine Aventurine was just like them, and you understand. Anger breeds and it seethes.

“How do you control it?” Such a simple question, yet so many answers.

“I put it all into risk. Every single last bit of it. I gambled, and I won.” His pointer finger gently hits the table, and he raises his hand to wave it through the air. “I survive, and I bet again.”

“A bold motto, I must say.”

A small smile graces his features, shrugging lightheartedly.

“Luck seems to be on my side.”

You look to the side at the sound of a crack, noticing that rain has started to fall. The sky is obscured by deep grays, and the rumble beckons you to the sliding door separating you from the balcony. The crash of drops on concrete is soothing to your ears, bestowing a peace upon your heart you’ve failed to find for a while now. The serenity thickens as Aventurine steps to your side, the hues in a ring of his eyes reflecting the storm outside.

“I didn’t rain much back then.” He muses, gaze following the slow drizzle of fallen streaks on the balcony’s edge. “A privilege I can keep alive, now that I see it so often.”

You look to the side, meeting Aventurine’s eyes halfway. The corners of his lips turn up as he looks past you, covering his mouth as he stifles a yawn.

“Almost forgot about the bed.” He laughs, running a hand over his lower face. “You can have it, I’ll be okay on the floor.”

“Absolutely not!” You counter, head tilting in defiance. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“That would be extremely impolite of me.”

“As it would be for me…”

“Will you please just sleep on the bed?”

“I brought extra pillows! I’ll be more comfortable than you on the floor.”

Aventurine stops, sending you a half lidded look. You walk over to your suitcase, swiftly pulling the two large pillows you packed out, holding them at your sides. He walks over to you, snatching a pillow out from one of your arms before walking toward the bed.

“Or, how about this?” He shoves your pillow on top of the hotel provided one. “We put the extra pillows on the bed, and we both take a half.”

You purse your lips, and shrug in reason. After patting your pillow into place, you climb onto the bed, turning on your side to ensure you’re only taking up half of the bed.

As you land on your other shoulder, you nearly touch noses with Aventurine. He chuckles, eyebrows raising in a teasing manner.

“It’s not often someone gets the chance to be this close to me.”

You groan, tugging the coarse blanket to your chest as you flip to your front. Stifling a few chuckles, Aventurine turns so his back is facing you.

Within a few minutes, quiet snores begin to drift through your ears. You sigh, and roll your eyes. And yet, only peace visits you in your dreams.

–

There have been few nights of your stay in Salsotto without rain. You’ve grown accustomed to the melodic pad of morning to the erratic roar of the night. This night is different, however, as dew is high in the air but the clouds of the afternoon are white, tainted with swirls of pink that bode better weather.

You fumble with the pearls on your neck, carefully positioning them so they rest on your collarbone. All IPC events require a clearance of wear that is above the standard grade of formal, nothing short of extravagant, explaining the fine tailored suit you wear over your dress. Ivory on cream, a palette that bodes well when making business deals.

Heels click on pavement, Tumbleweed’s National Museum in sight. Golden lights cast the establishment in an elegant glow, and the stream of classical cello welcomes your ears as you approach. Welcoming smiles are given your way as you enter the building, and you start a long night of shaking hands and business chatter with the esteemed mechanical aristocrat Screwllum.

Leisure chats of the Genius Society’s next project flow in and out of wine chutes, with gentle opera joining new deals of funding. Another hand shake bodes your farewell to a philanthropist from the Herta Space Station, and you take a seat at one of the tables nearby, attempting to gather your thoughts. Sipping on a glass of sparkling rose, you start jotting down tonight’s business proposals onto your phone.

“Having fun?”

You look up, offering a smile toward your temporary hotelmate as you pull the chair next to you back.

“Was wondering when I’d run into you, Aventurine.” You say, clinking glasses with the blonde. “How many deals have you clinched tonight?”

“More than you, I bet.” You scrunch your nose, folding your arms after sliding your phone his way. Aventurine takes a look through your notes, smile expanding on his face as he progresses.

“...And it seems I would be right.” He exclaims, holding up two full hands. “Don’t feel bad. It’s the natural charm.”

“Mhm. Super natural, and not annoying at all.” You quip, earning a light jab in the shoulder.

Your past two weeks with Aventurine had proved to be an easier feat than you had thought. Beside the snoring (that you had learned to tune out), he had served as a good source of company, squandering your worries of lingering grudges as you spent more time around one another. You were grateful he had the will in his heart to see the reason behind what you had done, although you were a little surprised to see that he had forgiven you with such ease.

Now, to you, he seemed to be an easy soul forced to carry burdens that were undeserving of him.

“Hey.”

You’re roused from your thoughts by the gentle tap of Aventurine’s foot against your heel. He cocks his head, and you’re suddenly aware of the soft serenade filling the room, sung by an artist famous for this piece.

“Let’s get our minds off of business for a while. Care to dance?”

He straightens his jacket before standing up, beckoning you to do the same. You accept the hand outstretched, threatening to roll your eyes as Aventurine lays his other on your back, guiding you to the floor.

“Trying to show off?”

Aventurine slowly spins you into a shroud of spotlight, laughing when your eyes go wide from the precision of his arms slowing you back down.

“Of course.”

A look is shared between the two of you, and the dance begins. You recognize the piece, Seid Umschlungen, Millionen! (Be Embraced, You Millions!), and fall into a sort of waltz, slow, quick, slow. Your feet move in a symphony of chirping violin and cello vibrato, swirling carefully around other dancers as you step from box to box.

The music quiets in a moment of repose, and you slow, winding your hands around his neck as you sway, in wait.

“What’s with the long face?”

The question catches you off guard, as you weren’t aware that your thoughts had reflected off of your face. Lips pursing, you wonder whether taking the chance and ruining the moment is worth it, but the question nags deep within, festering like a cancer that will not cease until it is freed.

“Do you forgive me?”

Strings echo and rise; Aventurine fits a hand behind your back before spinning you into dance. His eyebrows are furrowed lightly, as if your question had caught him off guard in some sort of way, but you both knew it was coming. Trust is an uncertain entity, not easily won or wagered, never certain in whether it’s attained or lost. Forgiveness is a trial for trust, and within inquiry lie a question of deeper truth that never made it to the surface

Do you hate me, Aventurine?

There have been many times in the passing days where you’ve been questioned about your time in Sigonia-IV. A test to determine whether your actions deserved merit. Recounting stories of countless lives you worked tirelessly to save at the risk of your own. Gallons of blood stained on your hands from the guilty, those whose karma ran the empty river beds of the desert red.

So much, and yet nothing at all. It’s as if life is out to play some game of twisted fate, as you see all of the lives you could not save in the man right before you. The brand slightly hidden by his collar and wispy blonde, jewelry glittering at his wrists, irises that shine in the darkest of nights. Bewitching, yet so alive.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He says, after some time. “You did a brave thing, I would be a fool to condemn you for it.”

Elation. It’s the feather touch of his hands, graceful in the way they dip you, nearly stopping time as you lay suspended. Your eyes lock, and you nearly drown in the glow of lavender and maya that stare back. Slowly, you feel one of his hands leave your back, dipping in his suit pocket and coming to rest in your vision.

“Their memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.”

You’re lifted to stand, and, amidst a rather slow spin, Aventurine pins the turquoise meteorite you’d thought was long gone onto the span of dress fabric above your chest. The resounding smile shared is trust.

You twirl and sink until the song comes to an end, stopping in a hold of hands and interlocked legs as orchestra is overtaken by voice. In the midst of fading spotlight, your breath evens out, and you find yourself following the gambler’s hand to escape the noise, elbows brushing on a balcony railing as you stare out into the fading daylight.

The sky is tinged with the baby blue of afternoon, arising into a deep interweave of violet and blush. A small, red casino chip flips between Aventurine’s fingers, rolling to sit between his pointer and thumb in short pauses.

“Got any tricks up your sleeve, gambler?”

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, invigorated by the rise of your lips, challenging, daring. The game you propose has risk, but what is life without taking leaps blind? Aventurine is sure he can see you now, after all.

With a flip of the chip and a wave of his hand, the red disappears, and a cool sensation lands firmly on your lips. His face is inches away from yours, fingers gently pressing against the chip that severs the distance between you.

“There are tricks to any risk, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

You raise your hand, sliding the chip from your mouth and palming it. When he doesn’t move, you tug on his collar, chin tilting upward to press your lips to his. The sensation is warm, gentle, as if you tread on ice that threatens to shatter. Honey sears your tongue, and you revel in the touch of his lips, soft as the velvet of his tie.

The moment is all too short, yet your mouth feels numb as you break away. In a moment of silence, you take the hand that sits lightly clamped around your wrist, sliding the chip in his palm and closing his fingers.

“I think I’ll be gambling a lot with you, Aventurine.”

His face moves closer, and you look down for a moment, noticing the hand that sits behind his back.

“I look forward to it.”

–

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGIC INVESTMENT HQ | TWO MONTHS LATER

Knock, knock.

“Coming.”

The door opens in fluid motion, revealing a room cast in gloom, tan shade, blinds drawn.

“Hey, Aven.” You sigh, placing a chaste kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Long day?”

“Long day.” He mirrors, offering to take the stack of papers off of your hands. You accept, slipping into the chair across from his desk. “Are you done for today?”

“Mhm.”

Aventurine sits in his desk chair, shrugging the navy coat he sports onto the back. You stretch your arms behind your back, watching as deft hands undo the cross hatched tie representing the cornerstones from his collar. As he sets the piece down, his office phone starts to buzz, and he groans.

“Hello, this is Aventurine… Uh huh, what time?” He draws circles into ebony, holding the phone to his shoulder as he reaches for a notepad. However, as he clicks the pen in his hand, he nearly drops the phone, clearly startled. “Can you repeat that? Si- okay. I’m coming.”

In a flurry of movement, he stands, tie and coat snatched.

“We have to go, right now.”

His tone is impatient, brimming with anxiety and unwilling to contest. You blink a few times before following him out of his office, grabbing his coat to hold onto as he fits his tie back to his shirt. The walk is silent, save a quiet “thank you” when you hand the coat over and the click of shoes on tile. Your nerves rise as you move, watching the way he frets with his gloves, tugging on the ends repeatedly.

In a matter of minutes, you arrive at the boardroom of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department, stopping at the edge of the table as Jade turns around, followed by a concerned looking Topaz.

“Ah, Aventurine. What a surprise, I was sure not to include your name in the list of attendees tonight.“She sends a look to the white haired cornerstone, before directing her gaze to you. “Unfortunately, ranks below P40 are prohibited from attending this meeting. Guards, please see her out.”

You push against the guard that seizes your wrist, but are unable to resist as more come to his aid. After having the door shoved in your face, you’re dragged to the hallway outside of the meeting hall, forced to sit in wait.

30 minutes. Another 30. An hour before the doors open, with Aventurine first, Topaz following close behind. He rushes past you, eyes on the ground, gone within seconds. Concern etches your features as Topaz runs up to you, lips pursed in distress,

“Aventurine-” She pauses, hand on her chest as she catches her breath. “Please go after him. You’re the only one that he’ll see now, after what just happened.”

“What happened?”

At your inquiry, she shakes her head, nodding her head toward the direction Aventurine took off in.

“It’s best you hear it from him. But, please, go see him tonight, he needs someone who’s close to his heart.”

Worry is quick to seep into your features, but you nod. A quick visit to his office and you’re off, taking the next jet off of Pier Point, to Klimt Republic. Weaving through streets and bullet trails full of life, you arrive in the heart of Klimt just two hours later, standing on the penthouse floor of an apartment complex worth more than the entire block you’re on.

Knock, knock.

Silence. You hesitate, and knock again.

The shuffling of feet hit the floor, and you wait in anticipation, hands firmly at your sides as the noise stops. After a few moments, the door slowly opens, and you sigh in relief.

Aventurine stands, slightly hunched against the doorframe, hair disheveled, eyes red and irritated.

“Aven, what happ-”

A pair of hands seize your wrist, tugging you inside and slamming the door behind you.

“Not now.” Your eyes widen at the plea in his voice, whole with a basal need that makes your chest tighten. “Please, just, make me forget about it right now.”

He looms over you, yet the shadow he casts is the antonym of threatening. Fear reeks off of him like vodka, as tears brim on his waterline. The feeling spreads to your skin like wildfire, and you feel him shake as you take his face in your hands, breathing shallow and scared.

The first taste of his lips is sweet, but the salt of his tears is quick to sink in. Clumsy and trembling, your bodies rock and hit walls as you make your way to his bedroom. You throw his coat to the side as he does yours, pushing him down onto his bed as you break for air.

Aventurine’s hair flows out around him as he falls onto the mattress, shrouding him as a halo would. You chase after him, littering his neck with soft bites that elicit soft groans from the skin beneath. You unbutton half of his shirt before diving for his collarbone, reveling in the whines that respond as you nip and bruise.

His hands reach for your pants, and you stop him before he can reach for your panties.

“Ah-ah, hands behind your head.” Your voice pools out smooth, running a hand down his shirt. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

Gently pinning his hands above him, you let go, and he complies. You reward him with a kiss, messy and careless, pulling a string of saliva between your lips when you leave them. Your free hand pushes hair out of his eyes while the other works on the zipper of his slacks, watching as his fingers lock together as you apply pressure.

A shudder leaves Aventurine’s lips as you pull his boxers down, hand gently running along the length of his dick. Teeth tug at lips as you spit on your hand, working at his cock while running your free fingers along your folds. His neck lifts up as your hands move faster, and you grin, choking the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth at the display before you.

A sight like heaven, an angel laid out for worship. Aventurine’s skin is coated in a soft sheen of sweat that shines in the dim light, hand laid over one eye whilst the other remains barely open. Under the mix of hues that resemble wild fields of flowers, blush coats his cheekbones, a light to the darkness that blooms on his neck. The vulnerability of it makes your heart soar, and you feel a fire ignite in the depths of your being that fails to stoke.

The hand that toys with your clit lifts, prodding at Aventurine’s mouth as you lower yourself on his cock. Muffled whines vibrate around your fingers, and you moan at the fullness that envelops you. You swirl your fingers in his mouth, biting on your cheek as his tongue wraps around them, sucking on the sweet taste of you.

His hands abruptly reach up, fingers winding and tangling in hair as they pull you down, replacing fingers with lips. The sensation is hot, as if an unquenchable balm has set your skin alight.

“Feel good?”

“What kind of- ughh- question is that?”

You clench around him as if it's instinct, and Aventurine calls your name as he would a prayer. His moans are akin to song, divine in melody, alluring in a way that shuts your mind off from anything else but him. One of his hands leaves your hair, fingers clumsily clamping around your own, holding you like fine china.

The stretch of his dick does little to quench the hunger within, you crave more, a devout worshiper crying a hymn of need. Your motion becomes erratic, a twist of limbs and friction that siphons tears that streak down your cheeks, falling to mix in with the sweat on your lover’s face.

“Gonna-” Aventurine chokes on his own words, eyes shut harshly as he blinks back ecstasy. “Cum.”

Your words are lost to you, only managing to groan in response as Aventurine pulls you back to him. His lips seal over yours in a searing kiss, arms winding around your back to hold you still as your orgasm shakes you. White light flashes through closed eyes as you spasm around his dick, mixing with the cum that leaks inside of you.

The room is quiet, save the howling wind of night and the dance of unstable breath. Blankets shuffle as you drop to Aventurine’s side, allowing him to drape your discarded shirt over your bare chest. Time seems to cease as you meet his gaze, touch serene as the plains of distant worlds as he encourages you to come closer. You accept, eyes closing for a moment, feeling the warm fan of his breath over your nose.

“The IPC is funding a project to excavate Sigonia.” The silence breaks, peace shatters and your eyes snap open. “Turquoise meteorites are rare, so they’ll scrape the whole planet dry until every last piece is gone.”

Your face falls, corners of your lips pulling downward. Aventurine’s eyes are half lidded, seemingly already accepting the fate of the planet he calls home. He refuses to look your way, eyes focused somewhere past you, the sorrow spreads and leaks into your soul as it opens further. A place so full of hatred and loss, yet a place that he will never be able to let go of. It burrows within the deepest neurons, refusing to snap and forget.

“You have to say something, Aven.” You pull at his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Whatever you have to do, I’ll help you.”

“The IPC doesn’t have time to listen to Avgin.” He sighs, hope stale on his breath. “Not even if it's the last one alive.”

You still, fingers falling to rest against his cheek. Aventurine’s eyes close, brows furrowing lightly against pale skin.

“Sigonia will fall, and only Kakavasha will remain.”

Defeat. It seems that what events occurred in that meeting room left no room for conversation. Guilt flows through your veins like it’s replaced the red, and your chest aches, latching onto the horror that no doubt holds sovereignty in his head.

Kakavasha. Blessed by the heavens yet cursed by the living world. Such a beautiful name that deserves no hell it endures.

Amidst the quietude, Aventurine’s hand slithers under the blankets, latching onto your wrist. He traces skin, knuckles brushing against your own, coming to rest intertwined.

“Can we try something?”

You nod, and your hand is slowly lifted to the air, palm against palm between your chests. You’ve seen this motion back on Sigonia, yet it’s always remained distant to you, and the words echo in obscurity.

“I’ll go through it once, and we can do it together.”

You nod, once more. Aventurine closes his eyes for a moment, reciting a prayer lost to you in time.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

A brief pause passes. You sigh in unison, and lock eyes. A voice whispers within the depths of your mind, and you smile.

The memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

As the last words drift off of your lips, you bend your fingers, slotting them between his. Aventurine shares your sentiment; hope flashed in the gentle smile that graces his lips. Your eyes wander, and notice that a single tear trails down his face, disappearing into his skin as it rolls.

Outside, you hear the crack of thunder. You pull Aventurine in, and in your clutch, the downpour begins.

–

Some months later…

The chatter of voices on the phone rouses you from sleep, rubbing a hand over your eyes in annoyance as you come to. Light spills through drawn curtains and open glass doors, filtering the room in hues of honey and hazel.

“Mhm. Alright, I understand. Let’s schedule the interview for today.”

Songs of canaries and mourning doves flow through the air, and you sit up, raising a hand to block out the sun’s gaze. Aventurine sets his phone down on the bedside table, stifling a yawn with his hand. You roll onto your side, hand propped up onto your chin as you soak in the sight of your lover.

His hair is slightly ruffled from sleep, bangs astray and cast into his eyes. Only the top button of his sleep shirt is buttoned, leaving lean, sun kissed skin on display.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you in for a kiss. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You hum, knowing full well tonight has been one of the worst nights you’ve slept yet. Aventurine sees right through you, but chooses to say nothing, opting to pull you forward so half of your body drapes over him.

Today Aventurine leaves for Penacony. And, seeing as he was called in for a meeting, he’s probably leaving even sooner now.

He seems to read your thoughts, offering a comforting peck to the corner of your lips in apology. Your hands card through his hair, head resting against his collarbone.

You have your apprehensions about Penacony, having heard whispers on the streets of mysterious disappearances of people in the world’s famous dreamscape. The IPC has had a limited number of run-ins with the family, leading you to assume a recent grounds of suspicion has arised, and Aventurine was chosen as the solution. In his eyes, it’s just another gamble of life or death.

You’re roused from your thoughts by a tap on your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” His words do little to soothe you, but you listen regardless. “The risks I take are always foolproof.”

Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

His phone rings, and the two of you groan before he gets up and tells the person on the other line that he’s on his way. You watch from his side of the bed as he throws his clothes on, grabbing two packed suitcases from the side of the bed before bending over to give you a kiss. The touch of his lips is bittersweet, nearly taunting as it is over before it even begins. You peck him again, running a hand over his hairline to straighten his bangs.

“Be safe out there, Aven.”

He smiles, so radiant it rivals the sun and all that it shines on. You think yourself blessed to see it survive.

“I will. Luck is always on my side.”

And he leaves. You turn to the window, awaiting the rain.

#eleysiacalling #eleysiansighs #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #aventurine x you #honkai star rail #aventurine hsr #honkai star rail smut

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sstvrnioloo · 4 months

Text

After Party | Pt. 3 | ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* | Chris Sturniolo

| P1 | P2 |

GRAB YOUR TISSUES.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, shaming of looks, mention of sex (does not go into detail‼️), mentions of committing suicide (again, doesn’t go into to detail, self degradation (please don’t do this),

if you don't like smut, find smth else to do.

she/her pronouns will be used!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

pink = y/n

green = lia

blue = matt

orange = chris

purple = nick

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧

**NOT PROOFREAD**

b/n: sorry if this sucks ass, first fanfic series ive ever written.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Well atleast I didn't remember anything. Right?

from P2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I sat up in this bed that certainly wasn't mine.

"I must've had sex or something."

I muttered to myself, not knowing who was in the house.

"Oh, y/n you're up!"

"Hi Nick, why am I in you guys' house exactly?"

"You were absolutely wasted, we couldn't possibly leave you there so we took you home."

"Okay so no sex."

I murmured to myself, but I didn't want to stay here forever.

"I'm so sorry I must be a bother to you guys!"

"No no its fine! If you need anything come ask me or Matt." "Also there's towels in the bathroom, and breakfast waiting on the counter."

"Thanks Nick."

I got up feeling so ashamed that I got that drunk. Atleast I was sober? I thought to myself, I walked to the bathroom and closed the door.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, my mascara was smudged and my hair oily and grubby. Being raised to be neat and tidy all the time was having an effect on me, I shamed myself for being messy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

In The Shower

"Well atleast you didn't have sex?"

"Going home is the right option"

"You're so stupid for being so drunk"

“Listen to what your mom says next time”

“Fuck”

*✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧･ﾟ:* *✧

I hop out the shower and wrap my tower around myself, grab my clothes and walk out. I close the door and start getting back on my clothes to leave.

“I’m probably such a bother,”

I murmured to myself. I was used to degrading myself, a lot. My parents made me do this,

“You can’t do anything!”

Their voices rang in my head, this is why I’d cry so often, have times where I ask myself,

“Why am I still existing?”

“Why can’t be enough?”

“Even if it commit, no one will notice.” Right?

A silent tear, sprinting down my cheek,

Why do I do this when I know I can stop?

When will it end?

“Get your act together y/n, this isn’t the time nor the place for your shit.”

I grab my clothes of the bed, attempt to make up the bed and start heading towards the door.

I walk out and bump into something.

Chris.

“I’m so so sorry Chris, I didn’t mean to!”

“Why do I always apologize frantically to him?”

“Watch where you’re going next time y/n”

I walk outside of the room Nick gave me with everything that I had; in hand.

“What’s up Y/n?”

“I’m so sorry again, I feel like such a bother to you guys.”

“You’re not a bother to anybod-”

Matt was then cut off by Chris.

“Well you are to me, so hurry up and leave.”

“Alright I’m done letting you treat me like that, I let you do that last night but now I’m over it,”

“You couldn’t even greet me!”

“Well I have my reasons.”

“What are your reasons Chris!? What are your reasons for not greeting somebody that you haven’t seen for like 10 years!?”

I’m trying. I’m really really trying not to cry, it’ll make me look weak.

“Just leave already y/n.”

“Chris why the fuck would you do that!?”

I’m already walking towards the door when Nick stops me. I can still hear Chris and Matt arguing in the distance.

“I’m so sorry y/n,”

My tears are already falling.

“I hated him but still greeted him, why do I still do it Nick?”

“I don’t know why he acts this way y/n,”

Now I feel problematic; a problematic, stupid, dramatic, girl crying.

“It’s fine Nick i’ll just go home.”

It’s not fine, who am I kidding?

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

I walk out the door and call Lia to come pick me up.

“Lia?”

“Hey y/n you okay? Need me to come pick you up or something?”

“I need to come pick me up from the Sturniolo’s house. Please.”

“Okay i’m on my way.”

I end the call and break out into a sob, why am I like this? Cry, cry, cry, it’s all I do. All I ever do. It’s like i’m a baby who can’t use words, so they cry.

All the time.

Chris’ POV

I made her cry. I was already being an asshole last night when I couldn’t even greet her,

you fucking idiot.

I walk back to my room and close the door and flop onto my bed.

I scroll on Tiktok for what seems for hours, but it was only 10 minutes.

I should text her,

But what if she doesn’t want to forgive me, or even converse to me?

You really did fuck this up.

“Open up this godamn door Chris.”

I open the door knowing he going to yell and scold me; I would’ve too.

“Look I’m sorry Nick.”

“I shouldn’t be the one you’re apologizing to, it should be y/n. But I’m not here to yell at you.”

“I was going to text her but I dunno if I should or not”

“Chris, why don’t you like Y/n?”

“I don’t know.”

Y/N’s POV

Lia’s car pulled up and I hopped in.

“Y/n are you okay?”

“Why doesn’t he like me?”

Bottled up frustration, anger, confusion, sadness, and disappointment in one good cry. We weren’t actually driving to a destination, just driving.

“What have I done or say, that he doesn’t like me?!”

I yelled in mostly frustration and confusion, not directed at Lia, but at; well I don’t know.

“I’m a good person, Right?”

@lovingmattysposts @novasturniolo03 @luvmxtt @tyjna6

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miguelunited · 8 months

Note

OH MY GOODNESS IVE COME ACROSS TTHIS REALLY REALLY CUTE IDEA FOR 1610!MILES OR 42!MILES. LIKE IMAGINE YOURE HAVING A XUTE MOMENT WOTH MILES AND YOU GUYS ARE "EXPLORING EACH OTHERS BODY". NOTHING SEXUAL OBVIOUSLY. BUT YOUR LIKE SHOWING EACHOTHERS SCARS/BEAUTYMARKS/BIRTHMARKS AND TELLING SMALL STORIES ABOUT THEM. IF YOU COULD DO THAT THAT WOULD BE AMAZINGG!!!<333

ALSO IS IT FINE IF I TAKE THE PLACE AS THE 🪼ANON??? IF YES THEN THANK YOUUU!! HAVE A LOVELY DAY/NOON/NUGHT AND DONT FORGET TO REST, DRINK WATER AND EATT 💗💗💗

Green Eyes

Here you go 🪼 anon🫶🏽 its a luh short and I got off topic but i hope you enjoy ☺️

“—And this one is from when I fell off of my bike when I was 7” You said, pointing to a scar on your knee. Miles sat across from you on your bed as you both explained random scars and injuries you both had as kids.

Miles turned his head and pointed to his left ear, “This one is from when I was like 11, playing soccer, I fell and this one kids cleat scratched my ear. I swear it wasn’t as painful as it looks.” He laughed. Your face contorted in concern, your brows furrowed.

“You sure it didn’t hurt as bad as it looks? Last time I checked you’re a real crybaby—“

“Am not!“

“Are too.”

“AM NOT!”

“ARE TOO!”

You both went back and forth until Miles playfully started wrestling with you. The two of you rolled around in your bed, pinning one another down, tugging limps, lightly hitting each other. You both were out of breath after Miles had pinned you down.

Your face was flushed, your chest heaved, and Miles just stared at you. He analyzed your entire face, your smile, your eyes, everything. He stared at you for so long that the silence was uncanny.

“What?” You asked, quirking a brow.

“Nothin’” He smirked. “Miles.”

“Okay, Okay, sorry— Whats that?” He asked.

“What’s what?” You asked back.

“That brown heart under your right eye, is it a tattoo?”

“Why would it be a tattoo? It’s a birthmark, I’d never tattoo my face.” You winked.

“Is that because you tried to get a butterfly stick n’ poke on your cheek and you cut your cheek in middle sch—“

“Shhh.” You cut him off, and he obliged.

You put your hands on his face and rubbed the skin underneath his eyes, across his nose, and down his cheeks.

He blushed, maybe even a little bit more than the average person would.

“Do you know you have freckles?” You asked, continuing to caress his face.

“I- Uh- No— Never really paid attention to my face unless it’s like a big ass pimple, or something.”

“18.”

“Huh?”

“18. You have 18 freckles. 5 on each cheek and 8 on the nose, I counted.”

Miles’ head dipped down slightly, hiding his face with his hand. He looked up at your eyes again through split fingers, face beet red.

“I think I’m in love with you..” Miles whispered.

“Miles we’re literally dating—??” You laughed through furrowed brows.

#across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #1610 miles x reader #miles morales #black reader

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

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sorry i have to brainfart this somewhere but mersault chuuya wearing almost damn near similar clothing to his youth got me thinking about dazai and chuuya's fashion choices.

dazai, in all the eras where he was in the mafia....never changes his outfit. it fitting, given his character and such.....so his ada outfit makes him look like a rainbow. dark blue vest, blue gem(?) bolo tie, striped shirt and a tan coat similar to oda's. i think it's cool, to show the stark contrast between his pm days and how he's faring now, aswell to show how much effect oda had on him.

chuuya.....is the complete opposite. boy changes his clothes all the time. but it's so interesting.

his fifteen outfit is very "him" in a sense. street kid, street kid style- red shirt, grey hoodie, green leather jacket, bright blue sheep armband. he fits right in with the rest of the sheep, and hes so...colorful here. almost similar to ada dazai's outfit. and then theres the outfit he wears in the mafia- the first one we saw back in the manga where he seems to be wearing like a..."beta" version of his current outift- but the way it was drawn (disregarding the anime for a second) it looks like its almost ill fitting for him. the vest is too big, the coat looks so heavy, the tie isnt properly tucked, and his pants are baggy. like hes struggling to "fit in".

then theres sb outfit- hes wearing the standard mafia outfit like higuchi, but with his own touches- rolled up sleeves, glasses tucked in his breastpocket, choker, gloves. its not much, but even higuchi doesnt do anything to hers. we kinda see him "getting into" the mafia work, and theres no pop of color here. the dragon head conflict outift is different though- hes wearing clothes that are "his style" again. simple shirt, jacket, choker, gloves. he also has his red petticoat (i think thats what it is? whatever that long cloth underneath his jacket) that, once again, gives him some color. i dunno what spured the outfit change, but i honestly think the red color is his own touch- his own "color"

and then current chuuya. no color at all, maybe safe from the ribbon on his hat. he wears his coat on his shoulders, similar to pm dazai. (also, slight off tangent here- he always loses his coat whenever hes dealing with dazai?? i think?? which is. interesting. given with how glued pm dazai's coat is to his own shoulders. like he actively takes it off/gets it taken off and i SWEAR this only even happens when hes with dazai. idk. ever since asagiri said beast dazai wearing his coat fully to signify him accepting his role as the pm boss ive been. thinking about it. a lot.)

where was i going with this?? oh yeah. why is mersault chuuya wearing his old clothes?? specifically fifteen clothes? like was it his off day or something. bc if you look at chuuyas various outfit as his progression towards the mafia then him wearing his old non mafia clothes either means two things : 1. this is to signify chuuya, under vampire influnce, is well. obviously not loyal to the mafia atm. or 2. something might happen in the future that makes him swear allegiance to someone else which i dont find possible but??? who knows. im overthinking this

Oh my god I opened my asks to find this monster in here and scrolled through it like ?????????

Please feel free to do this anytime this was an absolute joy to read hahaha

"dazai, in all the eras where he was in the mafia....never changes his outfit." His outfit stays pretty similar, you're right, though he does actually change it once during his mafia days. The left image is the outfit he wears in Fifteen and Stormbringer, while the right is what he wears in DHC and Dark Era.

The difference is the blazer jacket he adds under his coat. It's a minimal change but I think it's significant. I mentioned in this post how I believe the change might be related to his change in pronoun from boku to watashi, but really it's more the added layer of distance that makes this significant. Dazai just looks a little... odd, in the first outfit. The coat hangs off him loosely, his shirt is a little baggy. He looks very boyish, and that makes his deceptive tendencies and deeply concerning outlook all the more disturbing to others.

The second outfit makes one change but his clothes now look like they fit him (still with the exception of the coat, which never fit and never will... in this universe anyways. You mentioned Beast so... you know already hehe). In the case of the second outfit, he looks more mature and formal, which lends itself to a person who withdrew further and further away from people (with the exception of the other two at Bar Lupin); who became a terrifying executive in other's eyes, moving away from the "creepy intelligent child" image he had earlier - even though he is still very much a kid. No one knows Dazai - I think the added image of formality and authority here is just one of the many barriers he constructed to keep people from getting too close.

"so his ada outfit makes him look like a rainbow. dark blue vest, blue gem(?) bolo tie, striped shirt and a tan coat similar to oda's."

hjdfvbdjf rainbow - entering his no longer closeted gay era (sorry lol i couldn't resist)

No but you're right about the coat looking a bit like Oda's. He cared for and respected that man like no other and I think when Dazai thinks of "a good person" Oda is the first person who comes to mind. His shirt in the manga is also stripy like Oda's, a little detail that got lost in the anime. :')

"his fifteen outfit is very "him" in a sense. street kid, street kid style- red shirt, grey hoodie, green leather jacket, bright blue sheep armband. he fits right in with the rest of the sheep, and hes so...colorful here."

Yeah. He looks every bit the street kid and blends with the Sheep near perfectly - more than fitting in though, I think it's more than implied that he wants to fit in and changes his look to do so. Chuuya goes to great lengths to give the appearance of fitting in - because he never felt like he truly did (and certainly the Sheep did not treat him like an equal or a friend).

"and then theres the outfit he wears in the mafia- the first one we saw back in the manga where he seems to be wearing like a..."beta" version of his current outfit- but the way it was drawn (disregarding the anime for a second) it looks like its almost ill fitting for him. the vest is too big, the coat looks so heavy, the tie isnt properly tucked, and his pants are baggy. like hes struggling to "fit in"."

YES you get it!! And adding onto that, Chuuya doesn't really have a lot of reason to want to fit in yet. He hasn't found his personal groove yet, because he has little personal attachment to the mafia at this point in time.

Yeah in Stormbringer he's got a few personal touches but is still pretty non-descript (though you're right, it's much more than Higuchi... something to think about for her character too, and how it seems the mafia may be more of a job than an investment to her). By Dead Apple though, Chuuya's outfit is... well, back to his punk vibes, just a little more mafia-classy, I guess. (I don't know fashion I'm sorry, please don't kill me)

"but i honestly think the red color is his own touch- his own "color""

Red makes a lot of sense as a colour for Chuuya. It's energetic, emotional, fierce and aggressive. It's also considered protective, so yeah it suits him for sure. Red clothes, red ability... red camellias...

"and then current chuuya. no color at all, maybe safe from the ribbon on his hat." Ooo ok. So in the anime, this is true but in the manga, I believe his vest is actually a pale red.

Well. Brown with red undertones. Your point still stands though because the colour is very muted. It's not like Fifteen or DHC Chuuya for sure.

"(also, slight off tangent here- he always loses his coat whenever hes dealing with dazai?? i think?? which is. interesting. given with how glued pm dazai's coat is to his own shoulders. like he actively takes it off/gets it taken off and i SWEAR this only even happens when hes with dazai. idk. ever since asagiri said beast dazai wearing his coat fully to signify him accepting his role as the pm boss ive been. thinking about it. a lot.)"

Oh. Thinking on this. Um. Embarrassed to say - I don't think I noticed that actually. Like obviously he loses the coat a lot and that was already something to think on but... only around Dazai, is that right? Hold on, I'm gonna check.

Ok so my check wasn't super thorough (read: I am too tired and drained to go through each and every panel he appears in) but...

By god, I think you're right.

That's. Hm. I'm going to join you on thinking about that for awhile.

I see the coat as a representation of his role and responsibility he takes on, really, so it's interesting that the formality and symbolism of his service to the mafia gets quite literally discarded in the scenes with his foil and equal. Fascinating.

He's also not wearing it in any of these now infamous panels from Chapter 101:

Huh. Well. Thank you anon. You've just given me a whole new thing to whir about.

"why is mersault chuuya wearing his old clothes?? specifically fifteen clothes?"

Honestly, I'm still waiting to figure this out too.

Because of the purplish hue over this piece of new art, I find it hard to tell what the actual colours of his outfit are but it does look awfully similar to his Fifteen outfit. It could just be his "day-off" outfit but I think there's got to be more to it than that. It could have to do with allegiance, like you suggested. May I also suggest the return to a sense of inhumanity?

These are also the clothes he wore when his journey to find answers on himself began. Might he be entering a new arc where he has to "find" himself again?

I still feel we don't have enough information to make a solid judgement. As the meursault pov continues, I think we'll have a better reason as to why he's dressed like this.

#thanks for the ask!#feel free to dump thoughts at any time whoever you are anon this was so fun #also i'm so annoyed with myself that i didn't notice that bit about the coat earlier but also so happy you pointed that out!#things to think about when i am less tired...#bsd #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #soukoku #skk #storyrambles #as always if i screwed up somewhere... just tell me. rip the bandage off lol

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tkmicha · 3 months

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OK OK OK IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE IVE WORKED ALL WEEK BUT IM FINALLY TELLING YALL WHAT HAPPENED THIS WEEKEND

Tw for a lil swearing

Okok so I had pinkie over right??? We had so many tickle experiences last weekend rrrr🦋🦋 AND OHHH MY GOD DUDE IMA ADD SOME TEXTS WE HAD RECENTLY BELOW HE IS BRUTAL /pos

Scene 1: "punishment" or reward?

Me and pinkie were laying together and snuggling while watching hannibal ok? He's like, layed on his side with his hands around me and his head on my stomach ok? I'm on my back. I say "bro how do you like hannibal bros ugly" and he rolls his eyes at me and kisses me before returning to snuggling with me and I say "damn didn't know I got rewards for offending you" and he looks up at me and says "reward huh?" Then proceeds to rub his face against my stomach and sides while squeezing my sides, this mfer kills me I swear. Also throughout watching hannibal he'd randomly rub his face against my stomach/side or squeeze my legs and sides- so mean am I right guys?

Scene 2: tickle fight

Ok so we were just chilling right and I got up and sat on his legs and tickled his feet since ISTG ITS THE ONLY PLACE HES TICKLISH DUDE and he flings me off him and proceeded to get me back b4 pinning me and it's the first time he's ever gotten on me like that and I like, died- and he just got close to my face and said "hii" and I shakily said hi back b4 he kissed me and kissed my neck a bit, I like neck kisses, they tickle a lil on certain spots but it's very relaxing and romantic!

Scene 3: I'm not trying to tickle you

So we were snuggling and he randomly says he wants to hold me ok? And for the first time he does something really comforting, he said he'd do it more often- he like, reached under my shirt and was like, massaging random places on my stomach, sides, and ribs. I squirmed a little but it wasn't enough to make me laugh and he said "awe stop squirming, I'm not trying to tickle you... but you'd like that, wouldn't you?" I went so fucking still and quiet dude for a hot minute before shakily telling him to shaddup-

Scene 4: pinned

We were having a playfight and he randomly smothered my torso to where one arm was stuck up and the other was trapped under him, this was the first time he's held me down and tickled me- it was torturous I want it again and afterward I rolled over and said "you, mister, are so mean" AND THIS MAN SAYS "you like it though" LIKE WHOOOO WHERE DID U LEARN THIS WAAAA

Anyways here's some screenshots of this boy whahskwnwoana

(I'm green he's purple)

#tickle community #tword community #tickle talk #tword content #sfw tickling #tickle thoughts #tickle content #tickle scenarios #tickletorture #tword blog #tickle story #tickle fight #tickle stories #tickle tickle #bl tickle #tword post #sfw twords #tword #teasing

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x-on-the-calendar-business · 10 months

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ryan ross iceberg (tier 2)

tier 1, tier 3, tier 4, tier 5, tier 6, tier 7, tier 8

the tip of the iceberg:

the young veins:

this is the band that ryan and jon started after they split from panic! it included a few other members, and often times ryan’s good friends z berg and alex greenwald (formerly of phantom planet), who will be mentioned more later on. they only released one album in 2010, called take a vacation! they played some live shows, but at the end of that same year, they went on an indefinite hiatus. HOWEVER, they made an official instagram account and have been active this year!! it’s likely because there will be vinyl repress (further supported by a comment jon left on their only post) but it’s super cool nonetheless [i].

this is a personal aside, but i honestly like this band more than anything panic! released post split, with the exception of new perspective and the calendar. like god this was such a good fucking band.

dottie, elwood, and hobo:

these were all ryan’s dogs.

hobo was the dog he got in 2006. however, when he and keltie (we will discuss her soon) broke up, she took her with her [ii].

dottie was a dog he got circa 2015.

elwood is the dog he got in 2017.

i’m not sure if ryan still has dottie and elwood since he has pretty much disappeared from the internet.

eta: i misspelled elwood's name as elmwood in the iceberg image. sorry about that!

z berg:

this is one of ryan’s exes and his bestie. they dated around 2009/2010. they still hang out today and he’s made appearances at these events she does called proms. she gives us the majority of ryan content that we’ve gotten in the past few years.

he featured on one of her songs, “the bad list,” and she featured of the young veins cover of “nothing matters but you.” she will come up more in other entries as well, which is why i'm not going super in depth here.

throam:

whew.

this is a ryden fic – probably the most iconic after the milk fic – called the heart rate of a mouse, written by anna green. it was originally posted on livejournal, and it’s LONG, coming in at 3 volumes and over 500k words.

the plot summary is that in the 1970s, ryan is the lead singer/guitarist of a famous band called the followers, and brendon is a roadie on their tour. brendon is openly gay, and ryan and brendon start hooking up, even though ryan is “straight.” from there, the series becomes 3 volumes of angst and pining. of course, there’s so much more that happens, but i won’t say too much for the sake of spoilers.

despite it being a ryden fic, it’s incredibly well written (if you’re able to get past the explicit smut), so i do recommend reading it at least once in your life. i’m gonna keep it 100, i’ve read this series at least 10 times with a yearly reread and have physical copies of it.

anna also wrote some ficlets to go along with it, such as one from brendon’s pov and just some extra stuff that didn’t end up in the final cut. she also wrote a lot of other iconic fics (all of which i also recommend), like the black rose season, how a resurrection really feels, posing in a ballroom, miguel sanchez’s grand slam of love, amongst many, many others. sadly, she purged her entire livejournal account, so you would have to turn to internet archives to read anything other than throam [iii].

unfortunately, this fic also reached the icon status that the milk fic did so multiple people from the bandom sphere know about it and have acknowledged it. for example, keltie, ryan’s ex-girlfriend, has read it and mentioned it on twitter multiple times (embarrassing for her but whatever) [iv]. jon tweeted about it once [v]. also, i swear that vicky t from cobra starship mentioned it (i wanna say it was on instagram, but i could be wrong); however, i can’t find the comment she made anymore.

link to throam for those who are curious

jac and keltie:

these are two of ryan’s exes from the panic! days.

jac vanek was a scene queen in the early 2000s, and they dated from november 2005 until feburary 2006 [vi]. it was a pretty cringey teenage relationship that was overly (grossly) chronicled on livejournal, and if you’re interested to read more, there will be a link in a later tier.

an interesting tidbit is that while ryan was dating jac, brendon was dating another scene queen named audrey kitching, which will also come up later in this iceberg.

keltie knight (née colleen) and ryan started their relationship in august 2006 after meeting at the vmas, where panic! was performing and keltie was a backup dancer (she was a rockette). he was 19 and she was 24, which may not seem like a big deal, but it definitely played into some power dynamics in their relationship. for example, in keltie’s book, she says she often had pay ryan's bills for him. also in her book, she stated that he didn't take their relationship seriously, leading him to propose to her and asking her to move in (maybe he wasn't taking it as seriously as you because he was barely in his 20s keltie just a thought). they broke up in 2009 right before the split. we’ll touch on that again later. there is honestly so much more that i could say about this relationship/keltie, but some of it will be covered in this iceberg and the rest will be linked along with the jac info.

sun and moon:

another ryden entry. this refers to a theory about ryan and brendon about which one is considered the moon, and the other is the sun; it’s based on their personalities, like who embodies which more. polar opposites and all that. when ryden was still relevant, who is the moon vs who is the sun was a hotly debated topic (ryan is the moon, while brendon is the sun is the only correct answer).

this also loosely tied into some lyrics from panic and their solo music. for example, when the day met the night is often referenced in relation to this theory, although this song is definitely about keltie [vii]. also, in 2014 ryan wrote lonely moonlight, which also could refer back to this theory and kind of calls back to the lyrics in when the day met the night [viii]. however, this song is most likely about keltie too, if not another past relationship (not brendon).

dead end kids club:

this is a band/touring project that ryan was part of, including z berg, dan keyes, and the band palm springsteen. it was first announced in july, 2019. later that same year, they went on tour, hitting 8 cities for fall balls. this was referred to as the “1st annual” but….[ix]

in 2020, they released a song called lonesome town that featured a lot of videos from fans [x]. also that year, palm springsteen was accused of assault, which dekc posted a couple of statements about on twitter, here and here, stating that they had been removed from the project “a long time ago” [xi]. they pretty much disbanded after that and haven’t been active since october 2020.

livejournal:

iconic. livejournal (aka lj) was basically tumblr before tumblr existed. similarly, it could be used as a personal blog, a place to post rpf fic, an emo poetry hub, a photo album, etc. it’s on this iceberg because ryan was very prolific on livejournal, under the username i_amclandestine, and it’s essentially where panic! got its start. ryan made contact with pete wentz through lj, sending him the early demos, which lead to pete signing them and then cue domino effect to a taylor swift song.

anyway, ryan made many iconic posts on there, some of which will be addressed directly in this iceberg, but i will leave a link to an archive of his lj account for further viewing. he made his last post in june of 2006, but he deleted the account in july of that year after receiving a spam of hate. at the same time, brendon changed his (part_time_lovah) to friends only [xii].

along with the links to ryan’s old lj, i’m also going to link a youtube video by one of my favorite channels, the cozy representative, in which julian goes through ryan’s posts.

this is the web archive for ryan’s lj (does not include his last post):

this is a tumblr masterpost of all of his entries, including the last one missing from the above link:

and finally, julian’s video:

youtube

ryan and spencer childhood besties:

ryan and spencer became friends when they were around 5 or so years old, which was always the saddest part of the 2009 split to me. ryan and spencer were in the og band before panic!, which will be discussed later.

in 2016, spencer’s wife tweeted that ryan and spencer were still friends. however, ryan did not attend spencer’s wedding, which could have been for a number of reasons, one of which we will also discuss more heavily later on [xiii]. of course, there is no way for us to know whether ryan wasn’t invited or if he just decided not to go.

mcr makes me dance:

in 2004, ryan went to the chemicalromance livejournal community and posted, “hey im ryan im new i live in las vegas my chemical romance makes me dance” and history was made [xiv]. this became a "meme" amongst panic! fans, and they started bringing signs with that phrase written on them for ryan told in pics. this has continued even in recent times.

newsboy cap:

this is another iconic piece of ryan ross fashion. he wore it a lot in 2004-2006 cause he’s a little fruity. like seriously, this hat had him in the biggest chokehold.

now, we move onto some of the deeper stuff and into the waters.

tier 3

references:

[i] https://www.instagram.com/theyoungveinsmusic/

[ii] https://pathetic-at-the-disco.tumblr.com/post/171475122211/did-keltie-knight-ever-steal-ryans-dog-or

[iii] https://web.archive.org/web/20170606154418/http:/beggarsnotes.livejournal.com/

[iv] https://youngveins.tumblr.com/post/141384273691/keltie-has-read-throam-this-is-not-the-twitter

[v] https://twitter.com/iamjonwalker/status/958805938227433472

[vi] https://pathetic-at-the-disco.tumblr.com/post/170958104996/the-tragic-love-life-of-ryan-ross-part-2

[vii] https://genius.com/Panic-at-the-disco-when-the-day-met-the-night-lyrics

[viii] https://genius.com/Ryan-ross-lonely-moonlight-lyrics

[ix]https://www.instagram.com/thedeadendkidsclub/?hl=en

[x] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EzcWGQQiFDU

[xi] https://twitter.com/DeadEndKidsClub/status/1275849828459823105, https://twitter.com/DeadEndKidsClub/status/1283511345330049026

[xii] https://prettyoddfever.tumblr.com/post/629056560433446912/why-ryan-ross-deleted-his-livejournal-and-brendon

[xiii] https://pathetic-at-the-disco.tumblr.com/post/171901498176/so-i-saw-your-ryanspencer-post-and-i-was-just

[xiv] https://chemicalromance.livejournal.com/96360.html?page=1

#ryan ross #the young veins #panic! at the disco #jon walker #ryan ross iceberg #spencer smith #brendon urie #patd #ryan patd #panic at the disco #Youtube

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eihwaz-y-d · 1 year

Text

Twin Skeletons

Part IV

Beginning Previous Part

People who wanted to be tagged: @queenieofsouls @my-mom-calls-me-rat @daemonlogical @crystaldrops20

Again: I know nothing and do what I want.

The petty criminals were quickly dealt with, Jason just needed to walk in the alley and as soon as the wannabe muggers noticed the Red Hood they ran like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Suits him just fine, now he just needs to deal with the teenagers with zero Self-preservation. Turning around he found himself facing the from the museum. The boy is hunched into himself and rubbing his temples as if to prevent or fight a bad headache, he pays no attention towards his surroundings at all. On closer inspection the kid does not look good, maybe he needs medical attention?

"Hey kid, are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere?" the boy does not react at all. That is not a good sign, reaching out Jason tries again. "Hey kid?"

But as soon as his hand makes contact with the tens shoulder the teen reacts immediately.

The kids eyes flyes open -later Jason would swear his eyes flashed a toxic (Lazarus) green for a moment-, with one arm he beats Jason's hand off his shoulder and with the other he throws a punch towards his throat, then something like recognize, understanding and fear flickers other his face. He tries to pull his punch and let it land somewhere other than the throat, literally anywhere else. Everything happened in a matter of seconds, Jason didn't have the time to react at all. The punch hit him just under his throat where his neck goes into his breast. Jason staggers back, a breathless cry /groan leaves his lips and for a moment it's difficult to breathe again. The pit shrieks and wither in fear and tries to hide deeper before it goes eerie quiet again - It nearly feels like it is gone and never was there in the first -. It takes a moment before air fills Jason's lungs again, he rubs his throat before sitting up again.

A feral grin spread across his lips and Jason is glad for his helmet overwise he would look like a maniac. But Damn, possibly dangerous person or not, the kid is like a freaking messiah for Jason. One look and the pit trembles in fear and goes quiet, one punch and the pit disappears like it was never there.

He feels jittery and happy but also at peace. It's like he got dosed with Dopamine, serotonin and Endorphin all at once. He can't remember the last time he feels this good. There was pain he did not notice till it was gone. It feels like heaven. He is high on the best drug and probably already addicted to it.

" Damn kid, that was a mean punch." Despite the voice modulation his voice still sounds a little hoarse.

The black haired teen seems almost panicked in his worries. " I'm so sorry, by the Ancients, I didn't mean to punch you. Are you okay? Do you have difficulty with the breathing? Do you need a Doctor? Where do one find a doc-"

A low chuckle - the red hood does not giggle and if anyone would say so, Jason will call them a liar - cuts the rambling short. " Relax, kid, you didn't punch me that hard. I wasn't expecting it and you just caught me off guard. "

Danny narrows his eyes suspiciously, his whole body language screams mistrust. "Are you sure?"

"Yep." he answers way too cheerful for Red Hood's reputation as a crime lord but Jason simply did not care. He is still grinning like a loon under his helmet.

After a minute of silence and awkward looking around from Danny and open staring from Jason - who is here to call him out on it? Nobody, he can look all he like-, Jason decides to break the ice, Danny looks rather uncomfortable.

" Hey, you are the kid from the museum, aren't you? Did you get to see the exhibition you wanted to visit? "

" No."

" A shame, it's really good."

" just rub it in, will' ya?"

And Red Hood laughs again while Danny sulks.

" Whatcha name kid?"

"Danny"

" Alright Danny, what are you doing out here in the Narrows at this time?"

" I got out, then I was attacked by some kind of ninja. I ran and got completely lost but at least I think I lost the ninja dude."

" lost you say? Why are out and about anyway? Shouldn't little kids like you already been to bed? "

" I have no qualms with punching you again. Can you tell me how to get to the museum from there on I would probably find my way back. "

" I could take you directly to your hotel."

" Thanks but no thanks. Have you heard of stranger danger? You are not really easy to read with the helm and the voice modification. This doesn't really inspire my confidence in you. I don't fancy being kidnapped again. Just tell me what way to go and I'm not your problem anymore. "

So Damian kidnapped Danny and the boy got away? That is surprising.

Danny was once again holding his head and was breathing forcefully controlled, like he was trying to breath away pain.

And the moment of silence was back, then Jason reached for his helm and pressed the mechanism before pulling it off. Luckily he still wore his domino mask underneath the helmet. He did it without thinking and the bat would not approve but who cares about the bat anyway, not Jason, thats for sure.

"You don't look quite alright, let me help you?"

" it's just a headache, I'll survive. So? Which way now?"

Sighting, Jason pointed in the right direction. "That way."

Danny slowly moves towards the end of alley. "Nice. Thanks Mr Hero dude."

That brings a little smirke on Jason's lips. "You don't know who I am, or?"

Looking back other his shoulders Danny replies with a little grin. " No! But with hair like yours I'm pretty sure I would recognize you out of your hero outfit."

Shaking his head, Jason snorts. "Cheeky brat"

"At your Service." the Teenager has the nerves to bow mockingly towards him and than he was gone.

As Danny got back at the hotel, it was nearly half past four in the morning and neither his core nor his mind had settled and he didn't believe he could sleep without some nightmares so he would better not try to sleep. Sneaking back in was easy.

He took his sketch pad from his backpack and did was away does best after a nightmare, he let the memories take hold and just draw till his mind was quite again.

Soooo..... Fun fact. How Danny deals with his overwhelmed mind (and after nightmares) is how I deal with nightmares. I draw them and then they don't haunt me anymore. And one of my head canon of Danny Phantom is that Danny is really good at engineering. (in the Fenton household it is a necessary survival skill for Danny to be good at engineering, he needs to know how his parents technology works, how to manipulate the technology or straight up sabotage it so he dies not completely) but being good at engineering also means to know how to read the blueprints correctly or draw some himself, I think. And I assume one needs at least a little bit of drawing skills for that so for this fic Danny is decent at drawing and sketching.

And also. Someone once told me as I hit puberty if I am in the need of defending myself I should always goes for the soft parts like the throat and than run. So it becomes a habit of writing punching someone in the throat rather than punching in the face.

I hope you all enjoyed reading!

Edit : Next Part

#twin skeletons #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc universe #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #damian wayne #fanfiction #fanfic #work in progress

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sofasoap · 1 year

Text

Lastochka - Part IV

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Will they be too late?

Part I , Part II, Interlude,Part III

MAJOR WARNING: Triggers of mention of near-rape, torture violence, swearing, Mature theme. Thanks to @homicidal-slvt for planting ideas into my brain. this whole series is all for you :)

My usual thanking @saltofmercury, mother of Mini, for lending me the character :) Please go and check out her fics!

“masterlist” for Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

“So, to what I owe the pleasure, Nikolai?” Pouring two glasses of vodka, Sergio turned and pointed towards Soap, “Who is he? Your new sidekick?”

“My brother in law.”

“I am not your fucken brother in law.”

“Yes you are.”

“I didn’t agree for you to be in my family.” grabbing the glass of vodka Sergio offered to him, he sniffed it before taking a sip. “ Steaming Jesus, this is some strong stuff.”

“Best Russian Vodka you can get out there”.

“Hm. still a bit short compared to the best Scotch whisky.” Soap remarked.

“Now back to the topic. What are you doing here Nik. I thought business between us is all... Done.” Waving his hand gesturing signs of finish, Sergio wandered back to his side of the desk, settled himself down on his office chair.

“You have something of mine in your hold.” Nikolai mentioned as he casually twirls the tumbler glass in his hand.

“Oh? Not quite sure what you are talking about. I haven’t been in your territory for years.”

“A month ago. Near the border.” While staring dead into his eyes, Nikolai hinted to Sergio.

Soap watches the whole interaction silently as he slowly shifts himself towards the chair in the corner of the room, playing with a switch knife while other hand slides in the pocket of his jacket, grabbing hold of a little box.

“Ah, the Сука that was snooping around and killed five of my best men?” Sergio let out a sigh, exasperated

Within the blink of an eye, Nikolai surged forwards as he jumped over the table, his hand surges up and constricts around Sergio’s neck.

“Using that word on my WIFE again, and you will have your eyes rolling in that glass of vodka within seconds.” he seethed as he tightened his grasp. “You should be glad my Lastochka ONLY killed five of your men.”

“Soap.” Without a word, Soap passed him the switch knife. Pointing it directly at Sergio eye, Nikolai growled out the warning; “Now, don’t forget who got you out of that deep shit with the KGB back in the day,” he sneered.” Also, what I got in my hand, will ruin your status within THE CIRCLE forever.” Releasing his hold, Nikolai moved back and speared the knife onto the table. “ You have one more chance, WHERE IS SHE.”

Sergio stuttered out the location where you were being held.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” Soap plastered an exaggerated smile on his face as he pulled the knife back out and stashes it away. “And Nikolai was right, you are easy to deal with.”

“Come on brother. Let’s go.”

“Told you I am not your brother.”

“Pleasure doing business with you … again. You better wish next time I wouldn’t have to threaten you with anything.” Nikolai threw his final parting words down as he left the room, leaving Sergio slumping on his chair.

Flicking Laswell a quick message as they leave, Soap discreetly drops a few more little square boxes into camera blind spot corners of the corridor.

“Green light from Laswell. They are on the move now. You were right about the locations.” Soap frowned as he checked the reply. “How did you know?”

“I know all the secret bunkers and hiding spots that Мудакl owns. And there are quite a few of them well hidden. There is always one that he always likes to take his prisoners to. I just need to double check with him personally.” lighten up a cigarette as they get outside, “I am glad I made the right guess.”

“... and looks like Sergio is quite eager to get rid of us already.” Soap mumbled as he took his gun, noticing a few of the guards started to follow them. “Oh well. Your toys all set?”

“Of course.”

“Have fun with it then.”

Soap whipped out the detonator as Nikolai turned and shot at the guards that started to swamp them. With the press of the button, the sound of explosives started to go off one by one, until the whole building was engulfed by the flame and screams of people.

With the last of the guards shot dead. Nikolai and Soap piled into the car.

“... Thanks for the help Soap.”

“Mini is my sister. Of course I am going to help.” Soap typing messages to Laswell updating on the status as Nikolai started the car and heading towards the location to meet up with the team.

“When?” After a brief silence, Soap blurted out. Nikolai knew what Soap was asking about.

“ Right after the Safe house.”

“How do I know you are not just fooling around with her.”

“She warned me you were going to ask all sorts of questions when you found out.” Nikolai rolled his eyes but was still looking at the road. “I married her, isn’t that enough proof?”

“I can’t believe you two got together without anyone knowing about it.” leaning back into the seat to relax, “I just wish she will let me know earlier.”

“Soap. She really wanted your approval before we got married. But she was scared. She was so scared you would say no. She said to me once you were the best big brother she could ever ask for.” Soap smiled at the comment. “She looks up to you so much, she wants you to be proud of her. She wants you to know she can be your equal. That’s why she has been agreeing on all the covert missions. Trying to prove something.” Running fingers through his hair, frustrated, “I should have been a bit more open about us, otherwise this wouldn’t have happened.” Nikolai gripped onto the steering wheel tight, angry at himself.

Leaning forwards letting out a breath, “That’s why we try to keep her with our team each time we go out, at least we know she is safe, we can keep an eye out on her.” “The Lady Fortuna.”

“ I don’t know how that rumour started. But everyone was trying to fight for her to be on their team. But it does seem to be a miracle every team she heads out with suffers minimal losses.”

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, both of them secretly hoping your own luck will help you this one more time.

A loud scream and stream of curses could be heard echoing through the compound. Price, Ghost and Gaz looked at each other before charging towards the sound.

Standing in the middle of the room, hand tied to the back. Blood all over your face and mouth, down from the forehead ,from headbutting the guard who was trying to force himself onto you. Another guard on the ground , blood pouring out from his neck. Like a caged animal driven into desperation, you have fought back and sunk your teeth and tore a whole chunk of flesh out from his neck.

That’s how the team found you. Your head snapped towards the door as they rammed through the metal door, pupil totally dilated, growling like a mad dog ,ready to pounce onto your next enemy. Gaz and Ghost quickly finished off the two enemies on the floor with shots of bullets.

They were shocked to see you in such a state. Bruises all over, purple and yellow, cuts and wounds, old wounds re-opened as they cut into it again and again, clear signs of torture.

“MINI!” Breaking out of the raging trance as Price called out to you.

“... Price? Gaz? Ghost?” your eyes suddenly clear as you focus on the men. Legs giving out underneath you, Price quickly catches you before you collapse onto the floor.

“ Did they…” Gaz gritted the question out of his mouth, not wanting to finish the sentence. Shaking your head, whispering a reply. “They tried. I fought them off.” You started shivering as the adrenaline courses through you.

Swinging his rifle around to the back of his shoulder, Ghost gently scoops you up. You loop your arms around his neck.

“... Where is Johnny??????” You realised you couldn’t see your brother with the team, panic started to set in again.

“He’s ok. He’s with Nikolai. They will be here soon. Come on, Laswell is waiting for us outside. I’m sorry.” Price patted you on the head. That familiar fatherly action from Price and having two of your brothers in arms with you for the first time in a month, tears started streaming down your face. Retreating out from the compound and towards the humvee where Laswell was waiting, with sadness, guilt and relief all written on her face. You nodded to her in acknowledgement. Lying down on the cot at the back of the humvee, after being quickly patched up, you closed your eyes, trying not to relive the horrible moments you've been through while in captivity. Your last message to the team was telling them not to come for you, after stashing the package you were instructed to steal and also your dog tag and the wedding band, hiding your identity. You were ready to sacrifice yourself to protect the team and for the success of the mission. Deep down you regret not telling your husband about it. Not having the last chance to say goodbye to him. That fuelled your will to survive.

As Soap would have said, “Your stubbornness will lead you to trouble.” You thought a few times in the middle of night, while the captivators left you alone in the dark, that your stubbornness has finally been a positive thing.

Sounds of two pairs of boot running towards the humvee made you open your eyes and lift your head, trying to peek out the back door, you saw Nikolai and Soap running towards you, Gaz helped you to sit out slightly as two of them stormed into the back cabin, Nikolai immediately surged forward and held you in a tight embrace. You couldn’t hold back your emotions anymore, you let out an anguished cry as you buried your face into his chest.

“I am here now, my little bird.. You are safe.I am not going to let you go.” Nikolai took in a deep breath,trying hard to control his own feelings, not letting the tears drop. He finally had you back into his arms, alive and safe. His love, his little swallow. Landing safely in his embrace. You felt someone else was grasping your arm, you turned your head slightly, Soap was looking at you, eyes red and sniffing. You left your husband’s arm for a second and went for a hug with your brother.

“Soap.” Ghost tapped him on the shoulder. “Gaz and I will take the other car. You stay here with Mini and the others.” Nikolai tosses the car key to Ghost. Gaz gave you a quick kiss on the cheek while Ghost gently ruffled your hair. “Good to have you back Mini.” With that comment, the two left to take the other car to follow the humvee.

You stayed in Nikolai’s lap the whole journey with him sitting you on the cot. Most of the journey was spent in silence with Nikolai whispering into your ears and giving you kisses.

“I am sorry. I should have let you know the details.”

“ I am not happy about that. I nearly lost you.” Burying his face into your hair and neck, “We will need to talk about this later on when you are better. You going on missions alone. This is not going to happen again.”

Leaning into his head, “I am taking that everyone knows about us?”

“My brother in law over there had a good talk.”

“ I told you, I am not your brother in law.”

“Johnny. Face it, it's too late, I married this man.” You squeeze out a little cheeky smile.

You heard Price and Laswell’s exasperated sigh coming from the front seat. It’s good to be back with your family again. But you know, the road to recovery, both physically and mentally only just started. That will be another struggle.

Yes I gotta admit I had inspiration from John Wick. From a crack fic, this just went down a very dark road. oop.

Сука - Bitch

Мудак - Shit head Tag :

@roosterr @preciouslittlecreature

@boughhs

#call of duty #cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #taskforce 141

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technowoah · 2 years

Text

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better

Moments between Jason Todd and his lover, whos apart of the League of Assassins btw

- Based on these headcanons I made

⚠︎: mentions of death, injures, not much gore, swearing and complicated feelings, also this is unedited so sorry for any typos or errors

"This shit sucks ass."

"Jason please stop with the swearing."

You both stumbled into his apartment, well your shared apartment. Coming from patroling the city you two were beaten pretty badly. Your League outfit that was once green and gold was now ruined in a blood red that was from your gashes and wounds.

Jason was beaten up badly too. His helmet was broken and he was supporting a black eye. His suit was ripped open showing newly fresh wounds.

The fight was just a hazy memory, you've both hit your heads a couple of times and right now it dosen't even matter. Whet matters most is that you both made it home.

To be honest you dont even know how you had the energy left to get back to his apartment. You thought you were going to bleed out so thats why you have Bruce's number on speedial at the moment.

You and Jason ended up in the kitchen before slowly falling to the cold ground. Not making it fully to the living room and covering the floor with dirt and blood. Both of you were breathing heavily without your masks on.

You two were lying on your backs heads faced toward eachother while your noses were almost touching. You beathed in his scent which smelt like blood and smoke and just smelt like the outdoors.

Some might say this would be a romantic moment.

Except for the fact that you both were bleeding out on the kitchen floor.

After a while of staring at eachother and wondering which one was gonna call for help first you whispered to him.

"We need to call for some assistance Jason."

"Its fine." He said while trying to get up from his spot on the floor. "I can get the medical kit, its in that cabinet."

The cabinet which he was talking about wasn't on the floor, it was a high shelf. Jason tried to stand up on his knees, but groaned in pain as he found his way back to the floor.

"Let me call Bruce."

"Hell. No"

"Jason-"

"Im not letting him save me. Im not weak." He groaned and you rolled your eyes.

"Jason, I am weak."

He paused for a moment. Seeing you both are in the same predicament. Both beaten, bloodied, hand and knees, chest and arms, canr barely move. He didn't want to pass out here, he didnt want you to either. He didn't want to calm Bruce.

"Call Alfred."

~~~

"Seems like you two got into some trouble?"

"Yeah a little bit." Jason responed to Alfred.

Alfred got you both to the couch and started on stiching your wounds. You both looked like mummies, but you both were cleaner than you were before.

"Thank you again." You spoke.

"There is no need for that, it is my job after all. Ive taken care of about 4 kids for all these years."

"Yeah, thank you Alfred." Jason responded.

"You're welcome." Alfred smiled at Jason and he gave a small smirk back. "So when are you going to tell master Bruce about the two of you?"

"Never." Jason said quickly. "I dont want him in my buisness, he'll try to take over my love live."

"Love life." You whispered but no one heard.

"He'll find out eventually you know?"

"Yeah"

"Until then we'll be fine Jason, I promise."

He was silent, he was thinking too hard and you could tell. The dim lights of the room gave a gloomy aspect but it highlighted his face well. Jason opened his mouth to protest like he always does, but you beat him to it.

"Im very good at keeping a secret am I not?" You teased waiting for his reaction.

It was a slight smirk but it dissappeared. "Yeah took a while to figure out you were from the Leauge. When you pretended you weren't apart of the League, that messed me up when you started training me."

"My best student." You whispered, guilt filled your heart when he brung up the past.

"Damn right." He smiled at you. For the first time today.

The moon was brighter than usual as you stared at it encapsulated by its beauty. The Leauge made a huge deal about the moon. It felt like you were home.

Jason had left you outside by yourself a while ago saying he needed wine. You both took lawn chairs outside to Bruces huge acre garden to have some sort of alone time at Bruce's house. He's been taking a while to get the wine and you probably should assume that his brothers were taking up his time. You kept staring at the moon.

"Is it that interesting as they say?"

You sat up and turned slightly to see Damian taking Jason's seat next to you.

"If you look yes it is."

"Is it true you studied the moon?"

"A lot of questions young one." You smirked and he scoffed. "Yes I did. One time in Egypt I studied it and immediately got immersed in the study of space."

Damian hummed in response and was about to ask a question, but remembered your response to him asking another question.

"Why are you hesitant?" You asked and he tensed beside you.

"You can tell from the Leauge right? Their training?"

"It was interesting, but yes. Like Jason per say." He raised his eyebrows in question. "His senses are heightened because of the Lazarus Pit right?"

He nodded and you admired his focus to your words. "Think like that. You're truly advanced Damian, but not as advanced as me." You laughed.

"How can I be?"

"What do you mean?"

"I want to be better." He looked seriously into your eyes with nothing but determination.

"You dont want to go back there Damian."

"I know but-"

"But nothing, Damian." You cut him off sternly. "It's horrible, a bad place with bad people. I dont care if they are considered family. Family can be bad as well."

"What if I want to change the Leauge of Assassins."

"Change the Leauge of Assassins, the very same one that's under Ra's rule?"

"Yes. Didn't I make myself clear."

"Clear as the moon Damian."

It's not like you hated the Leauge. You had a love-hate relationship with them. But you and Damian had seen the worse of it all and both of you know you're both better off here than back there.

"Think about it." Damian spoke into the air. You nodded as you both satnin silence with the tension slowly releasing the air. The only noise was the occasional crickets and your own mind.

"Why?" You asked Damian.

"Again you ask me why?"

"I ask you "why" because I want a plan from you. I dont do anything without a plan."

Damian scoffed, "You and Jason go on rouge missions all the time."

"Those are supposed to be secret." You chuckled.

"He's not as discreet as you are."

You laughed and at the sound of your laughter Damian had a small smirk. These times with the Waynes had helped you highten your emotions. Always been taught that emotions will hold you back, that they'll make you weak is nothing now. Jason and you work out your emotions. Both expressing things you both never expressed before. Joy, love, compassion, jealousy, sadness, rage. All because of Jason, every day you see yourself grow more. And he can say the same about you.

"You tryna steal my girlfriend demon?"

Speak of the devil.

"No Todd, just having lively conversation." Damian spoke as he stood up. You noticed he was more relaxed than when he came out to the garden before.

"We'll I'll appreciate it if you would leave us alone for now." He sat down the red wine and glassed on the grass then he occupied himself with opening the bottle, his muscles flexing while he did so distracted you for a bit while Damian was yelling at Jason for taking up too much of your time.

Jason somehow got the last and Damian left with a huff.

"We'll talk later Damian!" You yelled after him. He just turned around with a nod acknowledging your statement and closed the glass door behind him.

"Lively conversation huh?" Jason asked as he handed you a glass and filled it up as you held it.

"Yes." You smiled.

"Thats all I get is a "yes"?" He complained.

"Mhm."

"You're an ass."

It was a quiet night for Jason, I mean except for the Gotham noise below him. Crime has been slow, so he found his favorite rooftop that overlooked the city illuminated in its own beautiful way. Peaceful wasn't what followed him so he wondered why the universe gave him this.

"Funny seeing you here."

He turned his head slightly to see you walking towards him in all your assassin glory. Your outfit and mask was still on, but he could tell you're smiling. He really hit the jackpot today huh?

"You're back huh? To gloomy old Gotham."

"The mission was quick, too easy."

"Did you kill someone for me?" He chuckled while leaning against his shiny red helmet on the side of him.

"Of couse I did. For old times." You laughed while taking a spot next to him.

"Yeah, old times."

He had no idea why you were in his life. Why was the universe being so kind to him? This beauty sitting next to him, the night lights glowing softly on your face. You changed his life in so many beautiful confusing ways. Nothing was perfecy between you two and nothing will be stable, but to him its a perfect love story.

"Jason?"

"Yeah."

"Just I need-" You huffed out of frustration. "Kiss me." You blurted out while he just stared at you.

"Jason this was so long without you I need you to kiss-" You finally got what you wanted when he molded your lips together.

Your lips moved in unison while your hand traveled up his shoulder and to his neck and his hand help your waist. It felt like heaven ti Jason, your lips on his. His home. His gaurdian angel back in his arms. His hand around your waist gripped the fabric tightly wanting nothing more to rip the traditional armor off of you and feel you close.

He parted for a second for air. "You're home." His breath tickled your lips

You both were and hour away from your shared apartment, but you knew what he meant.

You pecked his lips. "Im home."

The motel stinked, but it was the only temporary option.

Jason was lying on the bed on his laptop he somehow brought, am6d you were polishing your swords when he sat up beside you and pushed the computer in your lap.

"Egypt?"

"Egypt doll!"

You could tell he was excited about this. "What are you implying?"

"I'm implying that we go to Egypt. For a week? And we're going there for fun this time. You spoke very highly of it."

You glared at him

"5 days." He srunk

"Why Jason-"

"You always said you wanted to travel the world." Jason rebuttals.

"Yes I have expressed that, but-"

"But nothing. Im making this dream a reality."

Jason scooted closer to you closing the gap that was once inbetween you.

"Jason," You started. "Egypt is just one place."

"Yeah, but then we can travel from there." He smiled.

"Like Brazil?"

"If you want baby."

"Greece? Tokyo? Greenland?"

"All that and more doll." You gave him a look. It was a look of uncertainty. He knew that look too well.

Jason was reckless, you were too, in the field, not in real life. Money wasn't much for you because the Leauge would take care of it all, but Jason was different. You wouldn't want him spending money on you so frivolously.

"I'll do anything for you, you know that right." He whispered leaning in closer to you.

"Sometimes."

"I'll burn the Earth for you if you wanted."

"Im not used to hearing stuff like this said to me. You make me feel love again Jason." You whispered back to him.

Jason wasn't one to voice his emotions often so he just kissed you, hard. It felt like he wanted to devour you before breaking the kiss for a second.

"So, am I buying the tickets or nah?"

"Jason im not leaving my home!"

"I thought you hated that place?!"

You and Jason had been fortunate enough to get back home before you both exploded on eachother. The pent up frustration from the last mission you were sent on by the Leauge caused tension between you, Jason, and his family as well.

Dick was worried sick about you. You came back with cuts and bruises adorning your body like jewels.

Tim did not expect the Leauge to not treat you after such a mission. He expected for them to take carew of your wounds but after you told them that and I quote, "We're told to take care of our own wounds, not to be a burden to others." He was fuming.

Damian was dissapointed. He knew you were the Leauge's top fighters, he respected you for that, but one of their top fighters should know their limits. You should have a say on what mission you take or not, but you don't which leads him to try and convince you to leave.

"They made me who I am Jason."

"Who gives a fuck?! I dont care! You're not a killing machine! You're a human!"

You scoffed at that comment, but that made him evem more enraged.

"Are you listening to me?"

"I hear you loud and clear cause your fucking damaging my eardrums!" You ran your hands over your head. "I dont know."

"You dont know what?" Jason sternly questions.

"Im conflicted."

"It shouldn't be that fucking hard."

"Maybe its okay for you to leave your family Jason, but I cant! My mother-"

"You dont have to." Jason interrupted you. He knew your mom died a long time ago. He knew that the Leauge took care of you in her place.

"I feel like that's all I have of her."

"Thats not true."

You both we're silent for a while. You refuse to let tears fall on your cheeks. Jason's hands were slowly releasing their hard clench.

"Im sorry." You said.

"Me too." Jason follows.

"We're really fucked aren't we?" You laughed a tear trickling down your cheek. Jason stepped closer to you and took his thumb and wiped your tear.

"Now look who's swearing now." He laughed. He pulled you in for a hug encased in his broad arms and rested his head ontop of yours. "And yes we are."

..........

You and Jason were cuddled up againt eachother with him fast asleep. He was snoring pretty loud and that woke you up out of your peaceful sleep.

Carefully, you slipped out of his arms and the covers and headed towards the kitchen for a glass of water.

You padded to the kitchen when you felt a presence in the apartment with you.

"Damian."

"How did you know?"

"I felt your presence." You smirked and he scoffed.

"Are you better?" He asks while sitting on the kitchen island.

"No." You chuckled.

You both were quiet with him not knowing what to say.

"Will you take my offer?"

"Which one?"

"To reform the Leauge of Assassins." He spoke in some sort of heroic tone he learned from his father.

"Ah I forgot about that one. When was this? December?" You teased

"June 13." He deadpanned.

"I know. Why would I take up your offer now?" You questioned trying to get him to spill.

"I want to go back just as much as you. But its horrible we could run it together!" He shouted.

"Keep it down." You shushed him "Jason is alseep."

"What's there to loose?" He grunted.

"Everything, Damian."

"What are you doing here at 3am?" Jasom stumbled into the kitchen wrapping an arm around you.

"You always have to interrupt our conversations Todd?"

"Yeah I want my girlfriend back to bed." He snipped while taking your glass and stealth a sip of your water.

"Damian?" You softly spoke.

"Yes?"

"Stay here tonight. I'll call Bruce and tell him that his son was worried about me." You joked and he scoffed again already gathering the blankets and pillows from the last time he stayed on the couch, turning on the TV making himself at home.

"Its like we already have a kid."

"Shut up." Jason rolled his eyes and chuckled before filling up the glass again and going back to bed.

"Damian." You called out his name again and he lifted his head from the couch.

"Let's have this conversation when you're older okay?"

He gave you a small smile before turning his attention back to the TV.

You cuddled back with Jason under the covers, he gave you a small kiss on your forehead before shutting his eyes.

"I think I want to change the Leauge of Assassins."

"You do you babe." He slurred.

"Jay Im serious."

"Im serious too. Do whatever you want I'll be here right by your side. No matter how dangerous."

"No matter how deadly?" You sighed.

"You know I love a good deadly mission once and a while." He smirked with his eyes closed.