Tw: Death N Suicide Mention

Hii, May I request something? :0 Soooo...Y/n being Kazuha,Aether(bc this boy si so underrated)and Childe's little sister, and she is in those teenage age you know, and she gets hurt badly. What would they do to comfort her?If requests are not open feel free to ignore it! :D. <33

"ohana" means family...

# — characters: fem!reader, aether, lumine, paimon, childe

# — summary: ...and family means nobody gets left behind.

# — warnings: blood/violence mention

# — tags: hc/drabble format, canon divergent, platonic/familial hurt/comfort, fluff, sibling bonding, heartbreak (reader)

# — notes: y'know, i don't see much sibling!reader content! maybe that's just me, but even when i look, i don't see much.. so this is refreshing, thank you for the req, anon! i did spin the request a bit and only did two characters, though. as always, reblogs are appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

✧ — 𝐚𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 — ✧

since you are the youngest -- born a year or two after the twins -- he and lumine treat you like you are the only star in their sky

you were too young to remember your parents, and after traveling so much, you all but forgot about them. your siblings were the only family you needed -- the only family you wanted.

(also, you don't mind them doting on you, but you wish they would stop babying you from time to time.)

before being stranded in teyvat, the three of you would travel between worlds together, experiencing all kinds of people and cultures and traditions, having all sorts of fun

the three of you only have each other, so you cherish one another very deeply. fights between you were actually rather rare

mostly because of your unstable lifestyle; if you fought and separated from each other, what were you supposed to do? all of you tried to avoid trouble with others and each other out of caution.

but then you encountered the unknown god and lumine went missing.

you and aether were stuck in an unfamiliar land with your new travel companion paimon, basically forced to help solve the problems of the people of this world until you get answers leading to lumine's whereabouts.

it wasn't all that bad at first; being gifted with the elements of both anemo and geo alongside your brother was exhilarating, and in your down time, you two would train and play around, keeping your spirits high

you and aether grew increasingly frustrated by your lack of clues, but you held each other up as best you could, trying to keep pushing forward

and then, with the help of dainsleif, you finally, finally got to see lumine

but... she refused to come home with you.

she left you.

a tense silence suffocates you as you and aether look over liyue harbor. not even paimon knows what to say after what just happened. you try to think of something to say -- something, anything -- but each time you open your mouth, you feel your throat tighten. now that you were in a quieter place, you felt like the sheer amount of thoughts that flooded your mind would start spilling out of your ears.

what were you supposed to say, anyways? were you even going to talk about it? what did any of that even mean? why were you still doing this? why couldn't you go home?

why did she leave you behind?

aether finally breaks the silence, his voice strained. "we need to keep moving," he says. his fists are trembling and his eyes are teary, but he tilts his chin up and takes a steadying breath. "if we want to understand what lumine was talking about, then we have to do what she says."

you frown at your brother. lumine was always the more stern sibling -- she was like a leader of sorts. without thinking, you and aether did what she said; she had very good judgement, so it wasn't much of a problem. but after all this--

"you still want to follow her?!" you cry. you didn't mean for your voice to come out so shrill and watery, but you can't help it. normally, it'd take you longer to get to this point -- to get to your breaking point -- but aether's attempt to put on a brave face makes your poorly built walls come crashing down. "you still want to do what she says? she's given up on us, aether, why would you still want to be in her good graces?!"

aether's glare is stony for all of two seconds before it smooths out, a glimmer of sunshine returning to them again. he calls your name as softly as he can muster. "that's not what i mean, and you know that."

you know he's right. a rational part of you agrees with him; if you want to have any hope of getting out of this world that has literally been forsaken by its gods, you were going to have to persevere. maybe at some point, lumine would return -- maybe she would keep her word and join you once more -- but until then, you were distraught, your heart shattered into near irreparable pieces over your sister's absence.

you sit yourself on the grass and grab a fistful of it, hoping the feeling will ground you. "what if she doesn't come back, ae'? w-what if she changes her mind and attacks us? you saw what she was capable of! she's a stranger now, aether, she--" you don't blink back the tears this time. "she had her sword. we don't have ours anymore. why is she doing this?"

aether doesn't move for a while. he watches silently as you break down, your frame shaking as sobs start to pour out of you. he doesn't know what to do either. as the eldest, the responsibility of caring for you and finding his twin sister fell on his shoulders, but he hadn't expected for lumine to just... refuse. the sight of you begging and pleading with lumine to come home replays in his mind, forcing his eyes shut.

the vow you three made all those years ago has been broken. you were never supposed to hurt each other like this; you were supposed to be each other's foundations. that hasn't changed one bit -- when lumine came back, he would be there for her as he always has been, and so would you. until then, he was going to protect the family he had left.

aether opens his eyes again and brushes any stray tears from his face before sitting next to you. he pulls you into a tight embrace and you return it immediately, burying your face in his shoulder.

you feel terrible; he should be the one crying, not you. sure, lumine is just as much your sister as she is his, but she's his twin; his other half. you tighten your hold on your brother. he's shaking like a leaf in the wind. he must be trying to carry the world on his shoulders right now. but as long as you were here, you'd never allow him to do that alone. "you're doing it again," you sniff after a while, your voice muffled by his shoulder. "you can let it out."

aether puts his hand on the back of your head. he's pulling you closer, if that was even possible. it's as if he's afraid you'll slip through his fingers too. "you need a shoulder to cry on, not me." he mutters. "just--"

"aether."

your brother flinches at your tone. he chuckles tightly. "who's older here, me or you?"

you return the gesture, burying your fingers in his blonde hair. he probably won't let it out yet; he's never been the type to do so. he and lumine were far better at controlling their emotions than you were. for now, you suppose you'll let it slide. "whatever," you sigh. "you can stop squeezing me, you know. i'm not gonna go anywhere. promise."

aether loosens his grip on you, but he doesn't let go. that must have been exactly what he needed to hear. "me neither." his voice is small, but his words are affirming. the two of you sigh in unison, making you giggle. "i'm not going anywhere. i swear."

it was you and your brother against this world. you wouldn't have it any other way.

✧— 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 — ✧

absolute pain in the ass older brother. the worst. horrible. annoying.

i'm kidding... sorta.

childe is the older brother who smushes your face with his hand just because he can

the brother who puts his entire body weight on you and challenges you to push him off

the brother who will literally fight you for the last snack in the pantry

but he's also the older brother who sits there and lets you play connect the dots with the freckles that barely exist on his face

the brother who does his best not to embarrass you when you're around friends or potential suitors

he's the best wingman in the world and the coolest older brother ever

his harbinger status means nothing to you

you're a big girl! you know what that means!

you don't brag about it; you show off your brother in a very different way

childe is prepared for many things. one could even say that he's prepared for anything.

monster ambush? no problem. an ancient deity threatening to sink all of liyue harbor? simple!

but childe... ajax was not prepared to see you sobbing in his office at northland bank.

when he arrived a few minutes earlier, every agent went on their guard. it's normal for them to do that since he's their boss, but something about their alertness was suspicious to him. he approached ekaterina and demanded to know what was going on.

"lord harbinger, it's..." the receptionist trailed off. her eyes were hidden by her mask, but childe could feel her looking away. he started to tap his finger on the wood; a sign of his growing impatience. not wanting to upset him further, ekaterina came clean. "it's your sister, sir."

childe's finger froze. "what about them?"

"they arrived not too long ago looking for you, but..."

"if you're doing this for dramatic effect, i will inform you right now that you're doing a terrible job. that," childe's finger began tapping again, faster this time, "and my patience is wearing very thin. what happened to my sister? tell me; that's an order."

though she was frightened, ekaterina couldn't bring herself to say any more. "she's in your office, sir. she wouldn't talk to any of us, so i feel that you should see the mess for yourself."

the mess? childe nodded briefly in thanks and sped to his office. it wasn't a far walk, but it felt like an eternity. were you okay? did someone hurt you? he grimaced as his hand hovered over the door to his office.

if someone did hurt you, was it because of him? it was no secret that he was a part of the fatui, and you'd been seen with him on multiple occasions. after the osial incident, people became particularly hostile towards the fatui, and even though you weren't a member yourself, you received the same foul treatment they did. probably even worse since you were childe's sister.

childe could handle the heat and he knew you could as well, but if someone touched you...

fueled by a sudden wave of anger, he swung open the door to the office and saw you hunched over in a chair, your face in your hands. you were trying to muffle your sobs from the sound of it, and--

was that blood on your shirt?

ajax is crouching in front of you in an instant. he's always been good at consoling you and your siblings. to the others, he's the perfect older brother; the one who sends trinkets and souvenirs from his travels; the one who's always kind and considerate, even when he's upset. but when he tugs your hands away from your face, he's anything but gentle.

he confirms what he saw before getting closer. there's splotches of blood your shirt, and when he inspects your hands closely and sees your knucles cut and bruised, he puts the pieces together. "you got in a fight." he says tersely. "whose blood is this?"

"s'not mine," you sniff. you try to pry your hands away, but ajax's grip is unrelenting. you don't know why you bothered in the first place. you look away from your brother, feeling like a scolded child under his harsh gaze. ajax always, always told you never to fight unless absolutely necessary. he was very clear about why you shouldn't.

"there's strength in numbers," he told you quietly. he was almost whispering, as though he was telling you something he shouldn't. "people won't stand up for you in a fight -- they would gang up on you instead."

you wrinkled your nose at him. "but you always fight people in groups."

ajax flashed you a cocky grin and squeezed your nose, chuckling when you fought him off. "yeah, but that's because i'm stronger than you, kid." his grin dropped off his face as fast as it came. "now pay attention. do you know why else you shouldn't get into fights here?"

you thought for a second and pointed at the electro vision on your hip questioningly, but ajax shook his head at you.

"close, but no. the second reason," he started, "is because of this." without warning, he pulls a small dagger out his back pocket and holds it to your neck. you don't waste a second, moving to disarm him as quickly as he taught you. almost in the blink of an eye, you've taken the blade from your brother and pressed it against his neck. his smile came back, this time full of pride.

"now, do you know why i don't want you fighting others?" he asked. "it's because you're my sister."

call him a bad influence, but ajax feels a familiar sense of pride swell in his chest when you tell him the blood isn't yours. there's also relief mixed in there somewhere, but it's overshadowed by the satisfaction. he doesn’t smile at you though; he's got to keep up the act. he wants to praise you for doing a good job, but you were a wreck before he came in, and you obviously wouldn't be covered in someone's blood for no reason. he keeps 'big brother mode' turned on and lets you go. "well? what happened?"

you find a clean part of your sleeve and wipe your face free of tears. you're trying to stall for time, but ajax can tell. you sigh and recount the story to him.

it wasn't your fault.

you were minding your business, taking a stroll down by the docks when some large fishermen recognized you and began to shout for you to leave. you ignored them; this happened every so often, so it was easy to tune them out. you kept on your stroll, walking down by the water.

you've always been fascinated by the water, even when you were still in snezhnaya. you envied your brother's hydro vision once, but after giving it some thought, you figured that there was no one better suited for it than him. that, and it made sparring with him all the more interesting. after basking in the sun for a little while longer, you decided to head back to northland bank to wait for ajax to return. but as soon as you turned to leave, you found yourself blocked by four boys, each one taller than you.

"do you guys need something?" you asked.

their scathing words went in one ear and out the other. each of them had something to rude say about you; they must have been trying to get a rise out of you.

enraged by your nonchalance, one of the boys shoved you, hard. you caught yourself just before you could fall into the water and gave them an icy glare -- it was the one you've seen ajax give his opponents every now and again. it obviously didn't have the same effect, because the boys decided to rush you.

after that...

"after that?" ajax prompts you to continue, but you shake your head. "then, why were you crying? did they hurt you? do i have to intervene? talk to me."

man, if only the fatui knew ajax could look like this. the stern look has long since faded and been replaced by concern. he's pulled out his handkerchief and started wiping your face and hands with such tenderness, you almost forget that he's a harbinger. you tell him the truth. "some locals saw me fighting." you mumble. "they called the millelith and said i just went beserk and started punching them, but they touched me first, ajax! what else was i supposed to do? none of them believed me -- no one helped me, no one stood up for me, i-- i was so alone, and--"

your brother balls up his handkerchief and sits in the chair beside you. his arm wraps around your shoulders and he shushes you as tears begin to fall again. for a while, he just lets you cry. if there's anyone on teyvat who knows what you're feeling, it's ajax.

he sees so much of himself in you. it terrifies him; breaks what's left of his heart into smaller pieces.

a large part of ajax wants to resort to his usual methods. he wants nothing more than to press you for details so he can find the people who hurt you and teach them a lesson, but when he glances at you again, he figures that now is as good a time as any to give it a rest. this isn't a mess he'd ever be able to clean up, and you've been hurt enough; he doesn't want to make it worse.

instead, he drops a gloved hand on your head. "you did a good job," he says with a serene smile. for a split second, you see some light in ajax's eyes. it always happens whenever he speaks to you or your other siblings -- it's one of your favorite sights in the world. "i'm so proud of you."

"but," you frown, "i beat people up."

ajax laughs heartily. "you think i'm gonna be mad at you for fighting someone? me? really? c'mon."

he has a point. he did advise you not to fight, but if it can't be helped, then it can't be helped. you lean your head on his shoulder. "i still made those people hate me."

ajax hums. "well, they're gonna hate you -- hate us -- regardless of what we do. that's just life. i wish i could send you home, kid; i'm sorry you have to go through this because of me."

his voice goes soft at the end. he must be beating himself up about all this. you flex your fingers, hissing when the cuts begin to sting. "i don't wanna go home, ajax. not without you. i can handle this! i guess i just need more practice."

your brother tilts his head down at you, an incredulous smile on his face. "you were just crying because you got in a fight and you're already trying to start another one?" he asks. he nudges you gently off his shoulder and makes his way across the room. he comes back with a first aid kit and kneels in front of you again, taking your hand and starts to treat the wounds. "if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were trying to take my job."

you wince when an alcohol pad swipes over your knuckles. "who knows, maybe i'll become the new eleventh harbinger some day."

ajax looks up at you, his eyes flashing. you know that look very well. "is that a challenge?"

"you bet your ass it is!"

"that's my girl. as soon as i'm done with your hands, it's on. clear?"

you nod sharply. "crystal."

✧ (i've never felt so alive <(￣︶￣)> i hope you enjoyed it!!)

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, overstimulation, masturbation *not proofread, just pure horny

[It do be my birthday so here is milkman breeding session <33] here are some refs for you @smmy-winchster @partycatty

You should be glad he came at the time he did, otherwise you would've been caught a long while ago.

You're being pressed into your desk, your thighs closed tightly around Francis’ hips. The sound of your arousal was evident. There was a growing pool of cum coating your swollen cunt. Francis looked down between your messy thighs, watching how your pretty hole stretched around his length.

“So sorry for making you wait, my darling.” His cock throbbed again, more cum managing to spurt out of him. His low groans trialled into short whimpers, his sensitivity growing with each pump. His fingers dipped into your hips, realigning his hips back before pushing forward and pulling you down onto him. His cock speared you open, coating your walls in a sticky white.

“Easy my dear, I'm not done.” His words are a whisper against your skin, a promise of something more. His breathing is heavy, his cock pulsing within your warm walls. You pushed your hips down against him, meeting his thrusts halfway. Francis tugged your legs up higher, letting them rest over his shoulders. His hands held tighter on your hips, desperately pulling your soft body onto him.

You're lost in your own cloud of lust, only focused on the way Francis moulds your pussy to accommodate his length. The wet squelch reaches your ears too quickly, flustering you as you listen to how easily he slides in and out of your slick cunt.

His hands spread across the sides of your stomach before he trails one down, rubbing his thumb against your puffy clit. Your back bows, craving him harder, faster, and deeper. You can feel every vein and every pulse as Francis rammed himself inside you again and again.

He could feel his own cock twitch, swiftly pulling out to coat your messy cunt with another layer of white. He continues to stroke himself through his orgasm, slapping his tip against your clit. 

“You can handle a few more, right? Be good for me and let me fill you up, yea?”

The Artist and the Gem: Part 1

"I'm pretty sure this only happens in dreams."

Synopsis: An IPC member part-timing as an artist unknowingly spices up her life when a certain colleague comes to her for a leisurely art commission.

Notes: Fem! Reader POV since it's what I'm more comfy writing in for this series. I also have no clue how art commissions work so apologies if it isn't lore-accurate ^^"

Ping!

You groan as you reluctantly reach for your phone for the umpteenth time today, bracing yourself to read your client's incessant texts about your work progress despite it being mere weeks since they first contacted you. Combining that with the fact that your supervisors were piling you with more paperwork these days made it all the more frustrating to deal with.

"Hi again! I feel the need to mention that I have a full-time job outside of my artist life, and also take note that it takes time in general to complete multiple people's commissions over time. I will send you more WIPs once I'm available to do so. Thanks for your patience!"

As cordial as the text sounded when you sent it out, you were like a pot filled with boiling water, ready to burst in fury in the event that client continues to add fuel to the fire. Too angry to continue doing work properly, you excused yourself to get a drink at the pantry.

As the coffee machine whirred to life on the counter, you hear your phone ringing again. Doing your utmost to keep your composure, your trembling hands open your inbox. This time, it was not your current client who texted you, but a new one.

"Hey (username), I find your artworks to be rather intriguing. I saw on your webpage that you're still taking in commissions, so I was wondering if I could trouble you to do one for me."

"At least this one's polite about this," you muttered as you replied to their message with equal respect.

"Hey there! Happy to know that you appreciate my art! My commission list is quite full at the moment, so I'm afraid that it will take long while to complete yours. Would you mind if your commission took a longer time to complete, or would you rather contact me another time instead?"

That should do, you think to yourself as you retrieve your coffee cup from the machine and take a sip of your drink. Your phone rings again.

"It's all good. Take as much time as you need. I'm not in a rush :)"

Your eyes practically lit up upon reading that message. Unlimited time for a commission? In times like these? Is this heaven?? You quickly shoot back another text.

"Very well. What would you like me to draw, then?"

"I would like you to draw a portrait of Aventurine from the IPC."

...

You've got to be kidding me.

You blink furiously at your client's art request, trying to make sure that you did not misread whatever they sent to you.

"That's an interesting request you got here."

Who even is requesting for this from me? A fan from the Aventurine Fan Squad? For all you knew, any of your colleagues could have either chanced upon your art account or decided to knowingly exploit your creativity for their own pleasure. As you type out the default reminder for them to pay up as per your terms, your phone rings twice.

[100,000 Credits have been transferred to your bank account.]

"Say less. Wishing you the best of luck ;)"

You take a huge gulp of coffee as you switch off your phone, evidently more stressed about your artistic career than you already were before. With such a hefty sum of money transferred to you for a singular drawing, chances are that you will have to pool in all of your creativity for this particular commission if it means that your mystery client would be assured to get their money's worth. Taking a glimpse at the nearest clock within your hindsight, you quickly down your coffee before rushing back to your cubicle, ready to check off your task list if it meant more time to draw later on.

---

As you briskly return to your cubicle to work, a certain blond man in green glances at you from a distance and smiles.

Drew my friend's oc Izzy! ❤️❤️❤️

love again

dan heng x gn reader 3.3k words , hurt comfort + second chance romance this was inspired by one of cardan's letters to jude (from the folk of the air series by holly black) but other that than i have no idea where this was going ++ dan heng might be ooc too but this was very fun to write :,)

the astral express used to be your home.

now, it is nothing more than a sore subject; a burden that presses on your being—a constant reminder that perhaps, there are some things you grow out of, but are forever unable to get rid of. it has taken far too much of your life for you to cast aside, and as much as you wish you could permanently erase it from memory, you aren’t sure if you even want to.

it’s a conflicting dilemma to be faced with. you’re constantly wedged in between two emotions: wanting to forget, and wishing you didn’t want to. there’s something so comforting about holding onto the remnants of the past. and yet, simultaneously, there is also something so devastating when faced with the realization that they belong only to the past; nothing more than a reflection of a bygone time.

still, you’d like to say that you’re faring pretty well. belobog has taken quite the space in your heart, and even though it might only be filling the hole that the express left you with, you’re more than content.

you’ve learned to adapt to the everwinter—the eternal freeze, as they’d call it. and even though it’s sweeping winds have proven to be quite bothersome at times, you don’t really mind. you’ve gotten used to enveloping yourself in a thick coat before exiting the house. and waking up a few minutes earlier than usual to warm yourself with a hot beverage isn’t so horrible.

but most importantly, you’ve begun looking forward to your days, as opposed to letting what happened a few months back tie you down.

it was a moment in time anyone would remember vividly had they experienced it—for a completely haunting reason. even after seven months of solitude; more specifically, seven months of self induced isolation, you can still easily step back into that day, as well as the ones that followed, though those are a bit more blurred in comparison.

when dan heng accused you of being a traitor, you knew there was no going back. in the blink of an eye, everyone on the astral express viewed you differently, and as much as they tried to believe otherwise, they couldn’t shake off the possibility of his words holding some ounce of truth to them; his status was that of a trusted guard, authority held in high esteem.

but he was also your lover.

dan heng was the embodiment of everything you’ve longed for; precious, beloved, sacred. only, that wasn’t enough to quell his misplaced anger towards you. instead, it fueled it even more, and with each day that followed, he made his distaste for you increasingly apparent.

you’ve tried to explain—persistently, and determined to dispel any suspicion he held towards you; desperate to make things right; to make him love you again. but every time you’d catch him alone and free from his duties, he’d glower at you before you could even reach him, and even as you trailed after him with a string of rushed explanations falling from your mouth, he wouldn’t listen. he didn’t want to. he didn’t need it.

he didn’t need you.

and who were you to ask for more? soon enough, even welt and himeko had little to no trust for you. they couldn’t even seem to tolerate you; always making excuses to avoid engaging in conversation, seemingly edging you out of their circle through subtle means.

it was exhausting, and also painful. incredibly so that one silent night, you hopped onto the train, dragging a suitcase from behind and begging pompom to take you somewhere else—anywhere else—and to keep quiet about your disappearance. not that you thought anyone would care, really, but still.

that’s how you ended up in belobog; with a broken heart you’ve tried piecing back together and an unspoken explanation festering in the back of your mind—that you weren’t siding with kafka, simply hoping to reach a compromise with her; a conversation caught and taken completely out of context.

but you’re faring pretty well. and time heals all wounds, apparently, so there’s an obstreperous hope rooted deep in your heart that makes you believe things might just really get better. each day that passes signifies another step inching you closer towards the line of recovery. and perhaps, knowing that one day you might cross it, was enough.

but belebog has been in some commotion lately.

for a reason completely unknown to you, the silvermane guards have been raising a ruckus by the streets every day. causing citizens, in return, to erupt into an uproar in absolute fear of what might follow.

and you’ve resigned yourself to that oblivion. ignorance is bliss, and you had no plan on disrupting the semblance of peace that’s been so graciously bestowed upon you. but the world has an incredibly humorous way of working, and somehow, it seemed hellbent on giving you the answer to a question you had no interest knowing.

“please wait.”

a firm hand encloses itself around your wrist, tightening its grip even further (though still gentle), upon noticing how you were trying to escape.

“y/n—” he tries once more.

“no,” you deny without any hesitation.

everything about this is wrong. the last thing you needed was for dan heng to appear right in front of you, and in belobog of all places. god, this was your home; your newfound sanctuary—did he have to ruin that too? how long until enough was enough?

you despise the way his touch sears into your skin, abhor the fact that even after months, he still manages to get a reaction out of you, and resent that your heart still races seeing the tender look on his face. that treacherous, good for nothing organ.

you level him with a glare before forcefully pulling your hand away from his; the loss of his warmth causes your heart to sink into your chest. “do not speak to me,” is all you say, and then pivot on your heel to walk towards the opposite direction—going to god knows where.

“this is where you’ve gone to?”

the question falls on deaf ears.

“you do not belong in belebog,” he says.

and you want to whirl around to ask him: where do i belong then? the astral express, where you have all cast me aside? but they remain lodged up in your throat, eventually dying when you realize how meaningless it would be trying to argue with someone who has never been willing to listen in the first place.

you continue walking, and each step you take is so heavy that they echo in his ears. dan heng is at a loss for what to do—has been for the couple of months, but he knows better than to let this opportunity slip through his grasp, so he follows, trailing behind you while keeping a distance.

he tries making small talk; starts talking about how he’s on a mission, accompanied with march and a newfound acquaintance who goes by the name trailblazer—claims that belobog is bound for conflict, and that he’s glad to see you, as if he wasn’t the one who pushed you away.

but you pay him no mind. there is no reason to show him any reaction. all you need to do is disregard him until he gives up.

“herta has been trying to contact you,” he suddenly announces. “she is worried; so are asta and arlan.”

“tell them there is no need. i’m alright.” you reply, voice rushed, wishing to get whatever this was over with.

what follows next are updates about everyone you’ve known on the express: himeko, welt, march, and even a couple of researchers have apparently been worried in regards to your disappearance; asking pompom about your whereabouts, and soon trying to find out the answer themselves. and while it washes away a bit of indignation, it holds little to no value to you now.

so what if they were troubled? for all you knew, they deserved it—they wanted you gone, and so you did them a favor by leaving, but now they want to pretend that they care? incredulous.

in a fit of frustration, you take a sudden halt in your steps, prompting him to take a pause as well; his feet rooted to the cobblestone pavement. when you turn to face dan heng, his shoulders straighten to correct his posture and his eyes search to meet yours, but you’re unhappy—displeased, and quite annoyed.

“leave. me.” you demand through gritted teeth, trying to prevent every other word threatening to escape by biting on your tongue.

but he cannot. because if you’ve been faring pretty well, then dan heng has been faring horribly, and if he made a mistake, then it was up to him to fix things.

“i have been looking for you,” he admits.

“you’ve found me, now leave.”

“my love—” he tries to begin, and it nearly kills you.

“do not!” you yell, every emotion you’ve been trying to keep at bay reaching its boiling point; eyes flaring with bitter anger at the term of endearment. “you have no right to call me that!”

you can’t do this anymore. for the sake of your own wellbeing; your pride and sanity, or whatever is left of them—and for every piece of yourself you’ve slowly been regaining. he is not allowed to strut out of your life and slam the door on you only to come back.

“you have no right to be here! leave!”

“come back to us.” to me, he wishes to say, though it remains in the back of his mind. “i am begging you.”

“i will never go back.”

“you do not belong in belobog.”

“i do not belong in the express either; you have made that very clear to me—all of you have.”

“i was mistaken in my judgment.” he tries to reason. and the turn of events is humorous, because this was exactly what you’ve been trying to do a few months back. and now, dan heng is completely aware of how desperate the feeling is. “but i have explained. they were not wrong to put their faith in me, but i was wrong to accuse you—i am sorry. the fault is on me, but please do not blame them for their suspicion.”

“i don’t care. you don’t get to do as you wish and expect me to follow through. i don’t belong here, yes, but whether you like it or not, this is my home now, and you have no right to take me away from here after tossing me aside.”

gesturing wildly with a hand, you continue. “i have been trying to navigate my way through the aftermath of what happened. and i have resigned myself to that loss—so leave me. you have no right to barge into my life and ask me to come back. you have no right to take advantage of my love after taking it for granted.”

the air stills around you then, temperature seemingly dropping a few more degrees, if that were even possible in this everwinter. helpless, you look at dan heng with quiet agony—defenseless and exposed, but most of all, ashamed.

dan heng stares at you in horror, and it makes you want to cry. you needed to get out of here; needed to lick at your wounds and stitch them back shut. god, where did your walls go?

“leave it. i—” you shake your head, unsure on what to say next. your hands fall to your sides, nails digging into the palms of your hands as they clench into fists.

“tell everyone on the astral express that i am fine. there is no need to worry about me.”

and he hates it; the way you speak of your home as if it’s no longer of that nature, but simply a place you once knew of. he hates how you’re right in front of him, within reach, but still out of grasp. and he hates that there is no one to blame for the consequence of his cruelty but himself.

red rimmed, exhausted, and on the precipice of surrender, dan heng’s eyes burn—perhaps he is being too selfish, but even then he doesn’t think he can stop.

“march has been wearing the clothes you’ve left at your station,” he says. and you have no idea where the direction of this conversation is heading, but something compels you to listen anyways. “himeko has been blaming herself for your departure. welt has been persistent in his demands for an answer from pompom. arlan and asta cannot go one day without mentioning your name.”

there’s a slight pause he takes before resuming.

“you have not left just because you did; you are part of the astral express. you will remain a piece of us forever, so please,” dan heng begs, swallowing against a scratchy throat. “come back to us.” and then corrects himself in a broken voice. “to them, at least.”

“enough!” you snap, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“please—”

“you are asking for too much.”

“i will take anything you give me,” he lets out, strained and miserable; unceasing in his pleads. “you can resent me for an eternity, shout at me all you want, curse me unto death, just come home.”

and it’s enough to reduce you into a foolish mess; the patent desperation of it all—longing in his voice, yearning in his eyes. you’ve always had a soft spot for him. it seems that some things never do change.

“you don’t need me,” you whisper, still in disbelief.

dan heng offers you a breathless laugh.

“i do,” he confesses, wearing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “more than anything else. and i have tried not to need you—not to even think about you, but it’s a losing game.”

he takes a hesitant step towards you, praying you don’t move backwards in response. and when you don’t, it only spurs him on to continue, so he does exactly that; slowly moves closer until you’re only a breath apart from one another.

“when i found out the truth, i have never been more in dispute with myself. it is humiliating being proven wrong, but rather than shame, i felt sorry for not believing you; for not even listening.”

you have no room to cut in. he speaks before you can let out a single word. “i don’t deserve forgiveness. i don’t deserve to even ask for it, or any of this, but i beg you, come home. i am sorry for hurting you—for driving you away, but i’ll be selfish once more and ask you to come home.” hate me at a nearer distance. just don’t be too far away from me.

and for once, you’re rendered speechless; completely overwhelmed. your cheeks flush with heat, and you feel so much that you begin to cry—pathetically sobbing as you fall into him and weakly punch at his chest, somehow still managing to feel your heart skip a beat at the contact.

“why are you here?” you cry, choking between words and hiccups. “you confuse me. i don’t know what any of this means.”

he pulls you in closer, placing your head on his shoulder with a careful hand, allowing your tears to stain the fabric. “i love you.”

“you don’t know anything about love.”

“i do. i know it because it’s you.”

you sob into his shoulder, shaking. “i hate you.”

“i know,” he says, rubbing small circles on your back to soothe you. “but i love you, forever and always. i don’t think i can stop. i have been too careless with you. if you’re willing to let me, i want to fix that.”

“you can’t. i’m a mess.”

so dan heng says, “i love you regardless. i’ll love you always,” but what he doesn’t tell you is i have been killing myself over your absence. you have the power to destroy me, and you don’t even know it—and i have no idea what to do with that revelation.

you could turn into a criminal and i would still fear losing you more than i would death. i would follow you anywhere, even if it meant i had to throw away all my morals—so long as i’m with you, i need nothing more.

though, he’s still quite relieved you aren’t actually evil.

“you won’t.”

“i will.”

“but you left me,” you murmur.

“and i’ll never do that again,” he promises, words dripping with so much honesty that you can’t refute them; sincerity practically emanating from his body.

your pulse quickens. already faltering in your resolve to push him aside, the lump in your throat expands to a quivering voice as you breathe out his name: dan heng.

the way it rolls off of your tongue enthralls him. it’s enough to send him into a spiral—it’s also enough for him to understand what you’re trying to convey.

he pulls you in even closer, eliminating any space between you two as he presses up against your form, relishing in the way you feel in his arms—something he was starting to doubt he’d ever feel again.

really, honest to god, he was definitely made for you.

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i'm so incredibly sorry," he apologizes repeatedly while holding onto you. and while his touch is foreign, it is also terribly familiar.

“dan heng,” you call out to him once more.

“yes?” he questions, uncertainty heavy in his tone.

“i cannot go back to the astral express,” you reveal, and he can practically hear how his heart instantly shatters at your words. “not immediately, at least. belobog is a lovely place. i want to stay here for a while.”

and then they piece themselves back whole. “it is nice,” he agrees, arms tightening around your torso like the prospect of letting you go would end him.

“how long until you leave?”

“i am not too sure anymore.”

you pull away slightly to give him a questioning look, and he smiles at your curiosity. “i’ve told you earlier that i have been looking for you. if you are here, then there is no reason for me to leave now.”

“then you’ll stay?” you ask.

“yes,” he tells you. “i will stay.”

“but you have nothing here.”

“i have you.” and that is more than enough for him.

“but the astral express is your home, even more so than it is mine.”

“no,” he corrects you. “the express is where i reside in at most, but my home is wherever you are. and if that’s in belobog, then so be it.”

“you’ll stay here with me? in this cold?”

“yes,” he assures you, lifting a hand to cup your face. as a thumb brushes across your cheek, he starts leaning in until his lips hover over yours. “i’d like to stay with you, and i’d like to keep it that way forever, if you would let me.”

you don’t say anything else, because truthfully, it’s unnecessary to speak in this moment. instead, you find another way to communicate with him by filling in the gap separating you two with a kiss.

dan heng makes a startled sound, shocked at your advances, especially with taking into consideration the circumstance prior to this. but then realization strikes through him, and soon, he’s kissing you back.

it’s slow at first; delicate, unsure if any of this was actually real, uncertain if he even deserved it. either way, he’s mapping every second of this moment onto his heart, eyes slipping shut as he wills himself to be patient with you. but then sweet longing pierces through him, and the kiss turns fervent, wholly desperate, because it has been far too long—and he realizes that he’s wasted too much time.

so he keeps kissing you, and you let him.

warmth floods from your face to your chest to your fingers, spreading like wildfire. belobog is a region of unparalleled coldness—it is always freezing here; the wind is biting, and there’s a permanent chill that creeps through the air. but right now, you are melting into a lovesick puddle as dan heng kisses you with an intensity you’ve never known before; transferring all the love—all the longing, he’s stored up for you through slightly chapped lips and careful touches.

you think of it all of a sudden; how dan heng told you that home is wherever you are—and in his arms, you realize just how true that statement is.

You and me. Us.

pairing. Aventurine x fem!reader cw/genre. angst, confused thoughts and feelings, insecurity. synopsis. You didn't feel right, so after keeping it to yourself, you decided to talk it over with him. masterlist

Despite him being a loving and attentive boyfriend, something was troubling him internally.

It could be his senses telling him that something "bad" was happening, like a premonition.

For your part, there was no change, you were still stuck to him, as always.

So after about 2 months, he decided to ignore that strange worried feeling inside him.

However, one night you saw him pacing back and forth, muttering some words under his breath.

When he seemed to notice you, he stopped what he was doing and approached you.

"I can't stop thinking about it.. something's going to go wrong, I just feel it. Maybe I'm being paranoid."

It was unlike you to see him with this sort of anxious energy.

You reached out to him, squeezing his hand gently. He looked up at you and gave a smile of appreciation, but the tension in his eyes persisted.

"You know it's normal to get tense, right?" You tried to make your words comforting and soft. "Everything is going to be okay, honey."

Despite not knowing his thoughts in detail or being able to put yourself in his place at that moment, you tried to comfort him.

He let out a sigh that seemed to expel all of his worries. His grip on your hand was tight enough for you to be able to sense his anxiety.

He pressed his forehead towards yours, his eyes closed tight.

You wondered what was going through his mind.

He couldn't bring himself to look at you during this moment.

His thumb gently brushed your hand, his eyes slightly clenched as he was about to tell you something, but hesitated.

It seems to be hard for him to get out what he was trying to say.

So he opted to squeeze your hand and bury his face into your chest.

You let a smile grace your face, despite his tense aura.

You understood him enough to know that whatever he was going through right now was something beyond your knowledge.

You comforted and supported him by wrapping your arms around him, kissing his head, and rubbing his back.

He looked grateful as your tender words of comfort helped him relax.

It was a nice moment of intimacy. It wasn't always a situation like this between the two of them, but there was never a problem comforting each other.

The affection and love that both had for each other was very enviable, they fit together so well in any situation.

Your fingers found their way onto his chin, gently lifting his head up so that he could meet your gaze.

His face was soft and expressive even when feeling down.

Even in the midst of trouble, he could always find a ray of hope with you.

He didn't say a word, but the feeling of your thumb rubbing his chin could be interpreted as "everything will be alright".

You both stayed close throughout the rest of the night.

It was an unproblematic night of rest for the both of you, he slept comfortably next to you, and you watched over him, feeling safe.

As the weeks went by, the one who started to feel bad was you.

Physically bad.

First came the nausea and dizziness, which you managed to hide perfectly from Aventurine.

At one point you thought you were sick and that these symptoms would eventually go away. However, that didn't happen, the symptoms remained, which worried you.

"…" From the way you felt, you suspected it from the first moment.

You sat on the bed, your legs a little weak from the shock, staring at the pregnancy test.

The minutes of waiting felt like hours. The intrigue was killing you.

Until finally you could see for yourself, your suspicions were right. You were pregnant.

You didn't know how to feel, you didn't know whether to be excited or worried.

However, a smile grew on your face, and you hugged the test closer to yourself.

So what if you weren't ready? For you this was something to be happy about.

But all you could think about was the moment you'd tell him.

He would be happy with this news, right?

Despite the pregnancy, life carried on, and so did you.

The symptoms you've been experiencing were unpleasant but tolerable. The nausea was still there, and you still felt dizzy, but you did your best to get through it.

As for the pregnancy, you tried to tell Aventurine once or twice. But you just… didn't feel ready yet. You wanted the perfect moment to drop that bomb on him, but that perfect moment felt like it never came.

You looked at Aventurine's sleeping form.

Should you tell him the news?

He looked so peaceful.

Perhaps you should wait for the right moment, the right time.

You laid there, not wanting to wake him, feeling a sense of anticipation inside. Even after the physical symptoms subsided slightly, your mind was full of worries.

"What if he doesn't want children now?"

"What if he thinks we're not ready?"

"He wouldn't leave me, would he?"

You wanted to push these worries aside and focus on the good things, but your mind wandered.

You didn't realise when it was that he had already woken up and was looking at you for a while.

You came out of your thoughts when you felt his hands caressing your face.

"Darling, what's wrong?" His voice was soft, not wanting to scare you.

For your part, you felt relaxed at his touch.

He continued to stroke your face, his hands eventually finding their way into your hair and gently combing it as he spoke,

"… Are you okay…?"

He sounded slightly worried.

"Mhm." After making a sound of affirmation, you clung to him, keeping your head buried to his chest.

"…" Once you were close to him, he continued to stroke your hair gently, not speaking, just wanting to listen to your breathing for a moment.

He rubbed your back in an attempt to soothe you, despite not knowing what was wrong. After a moment of silence, you broke it by speaking.

"I'm pregnant…" You blurted out. Your words were somewhat muffled by the fact that your face was in his chest.

His body tensed as soon as the words left your mouth.

"You're… pregnant?"

His hands stopped moving as an overwhelming sense of shock and fear came over him.

You thought he would be happy with that type of news but what you got was something different.

"…" Your boyfriend couldn't get his mind to respond, his face expressionless as he processed your words.

You let out a sigh as you waited for his words of response. He slowly pulled you away from his chest and stared straight into your eyes, almost as if studying your expression.

After another long pause, he spoke.

"You're… you're sure…?"

Your response was a confident nod.

He was quiet for a while.

"…" He could barely process what you'd just told him.

This was not the response you were expecting.

However, he still didn't move, not even a slight twitch of emotion on his face.

Silence.

His eyes wandered away from you, looking at the ceiling.

He was deep in internal crisis, feeling overwhelmed with all sorts of different thoughts.

At this moment, anxiety and nervousness flooded your system. The situation that had gone quiet too long was something that made you uncomfortable.

You waited.

He still wasn't speaking.

After another few minutes of staring at the ceiling, he finally opened his mouth.

"… I need time to think about this, dear" He said, his voice as serious as you had ever heard it before.

Before he got up, he ruffled your hair gently. Then he got out of the bed and went to the bathroom without another word or a glance thrown in your direction.

A feeling of rejection began to fill your heart as the bathroom door closed, leaving you all alone.

Your stomach dropped at the unexpected response. The fact that he requested time to digest what you had just told him made you increasingly anxious. Your fingers fiddled with the bedsheet, you were thinking too.

Is he angry with you for getting pregnant?

Is he just scared?

Why did he react like that instead of showing happiness like you thought he would?

The questions were countless, each one creating an increasing sense of insecurity within you.

But not only insecurity, but also sadness.

You couldn't help but think that this would be the breakup of your relationship, also due to the fact that you would have to raise your child alone.

It was a little too much for you to make those kinds of ideas and thoughts.

From one moment to the next you felt your cheeks wet. You didn't bother to dry them, you stayed leaning on the pillow, trying to disappear at that moment.

Your emotions were not very rational, being 4 months pregnant was hard.

On the other hand, Aventurine was locked in the bathroom.

He had a range of emotions inside of him.

Fear, anxiety, frustration, worry.

He took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror.

You were the love of his life, so he knew that there was no way he would leave you. But that didn't change the fact that he was terrified right now.

After a while of crying and waiting, you finally noticed the bathroom door slightly open.

Aventurine was still very far from calm. His face seemed still tense, but he was much more relaxed than before.

"Honey…" His voice was gentle, he came to sit next to you and started running his hand down your back again, trying to soothe you.

You were with your head buried in the pillow and with the blanket covering your entire body.

His touch gave you comfort, his presence reassured you.

"Please look at me, darling." he insisted, his thumb tracing the outline of your face.

You did as he said, you slowly turned your head and looked at him, he was smiling slightly, which surprised you.

"Come here." he took you in his arms, placing you on top of his lap.

Your eyes slowly closed, you let out a small sigh as you began to relax, and your mind started to settle.

While you sat on his lap, he brushed his hand through your hair, not speaking.

You buried your face into his shoulder and let him do his thing, it was calming.

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft as he continued to comb through your hair.

"It was stupid of me to react like that." He said, letting out a tired sigh.

His words soothed you.

You kept quiet for a moment, not knowing if you should answer him or not.

By the time you were going to answer him, Aventurine spoke again.

"I'm just…scared." As he spoke, his voice cut off at the end. His arms wrapped around you as if you were going to slip away from his grasp at that moment.

After a while, you broke away from his grip, you lifted your head off his shoulder and went to grab his face, placing it in your hands. You looked into his eyes and tried to get a glimpse of what was going on inside of him, but it was hard to read.

Your face was worried, no matter how much you tried to get an idea of what was going on in his head, you couldn't figure it out.

In his eyes there was a hint of tears beginning to fill little by little. Not to mention the expression he had on his face, it was something that surprised you, you had rarely seen him like that.

"Can I ask why, darling?" You tried to sound as cautious and gentle as possible, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.

His eyes closed as soon as you touched him.

When you asked your question, he was silent for a few seconds before speaking very softly.

It was like he was fighting to hold himself together to keep himself from breaking from the flood of emotions.

"You know what my childhood was like, how they killed all of my race, I—" He took some time to stop his voice from breaking up again.

You, with the greatest delicacy in the world, wiped away the fine tears that fell from his eyes. You didn't rush him to speak, you simply listened to him, letting him know you were there.

"I don't want this baby to suffer. Who knows what they life will be like when they grows up? We don't know if they could have the same luck that I had…" His voice faded into a silent murmur, unable to continue talking.

He was trembling slighty, his body seemed to be unable to hold all of the distress that was eating at his mind.

After he spoke, you held him close to you, your arms embraced him tightly, so he could cry, if he needed it, without feeling uncomfortable.

You rubbed his back gently to keep him calm, you knew that the moment that you were in was very delicate and that he needed your attention and support.

You let him get his thoughts out of his system.

His insecurities were very understandable.

It did not seem to be a problem of not wanting the baby, but rather a problem of fear and anxiety about what life the child might have.

You understood him perfectly, he had lived through a lot in his life and did not want to put that on his baby.

In front of you, you could see the man who was so confident, crumble into a pile of fears and insecurities. Insecurities that he don't let other people see.

"Mhm, you're right, my love. We don't know what will become of they future." Your voice was quiet, as if it were a lullaby to calm him down.

"I also know that that you are very afraid that they will go through the same thing as you. There, unfortunately you were alone…but now you have me." You could almost hear him holding back his sobs.

"The baby will have you and me. And I know we will make sure this child was the happiest and most protected by us."

With that, he stopped holding back his sobs, letting them out. As he clung to your chest, finding the comfort he longed for.

All he heard were your words, words that calmed him down like the sound of a song.

You held him close and comforted him, as if he was a child needing a gentle voice to help him fall asleep.

His head rested on your chest while your arms were wrapped around him.

"…" His breathing started to slow down, the tension was slowly being drained out of his body.

You could feel the softness of his body and his soft hiccups.

"Mhm.." He let out a sound, while with one of his hands, he wiped his wet cheeks.

You continued to stroke his hair and comfort him.

Love and affection.

"I love you." he spoke, his voice still trembling, but not with anxiety this time. "I love you so much."

The weight that seemed to be on his shoulders lifted, even if just a little, as the fear that had been tormenting him was starting to melt away.

He broke away from your grip a little and turned to face you, then he looked at you.

"I love you both." He said as he placed a hand on your belly.

The love he had in his gaze was undeniable. With his hand on your belly, the reality you were living felt much more real.

You smiled at him, and placed your hand over his, keeping it placed against your belly.

"We love you too, my dear."

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

Aventurine is attracted to men. Women who delude themselves into thinking he liked them makes me laugh

Oh my, thats a bunch of pixels on your screen, you're getting really worked up over someone liking a character, which is even more comical than "women who delude themselves into thinking he liked them", i truly feel like your barrier between reality and fiction is blending together. No one is thinking that aventurine likes them he's a fictional character, people are having fun and enjoying a character they like, please stop with this nonsense.

Where does it state that he's into men? Nowhere right. Keep your headcanon to yourself, and keep negative comments off my page.

You should go outside and enjoy the nice spring weather instead of growing hatred, I genuinely think it would help you grow a more positive mindset and learn to love yourself and enjoy things without putting other people down.

:}

⭐ 🎈 & 🤖 🍬 Drew some Scrunkies in rblx today bcs them <3

Bad day

Did fanart of this lovely baby owo ❤️❤️ she's actually my main damage atm hewhewhew