#⧼ ♠ aventurine ⧽

[monsieurivoblan]

[ HONKAI STAR RAIL ]

Aventurine × Dr Ratio (+ Emanator of Qlipoth Aventurine concept )

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“The Things That You Have Done To Me”

[sugiliteshusband]

main menu . . .

—✿ main blog ✿ abt me ✿ my f/o list

[agcmbler-archive]

--ever heard of the old saying life is a game? --well, I think it's a poker game of high stakes

indie & private & selective aventurine from honkai: star rail as written by bella

[st4r-th0ughts]

i wanna pull for aven but DAN HENG AND SUNDAY

ITS ALL OR NOTHING ‼️‼️

[aventvrina]

@halothes gambled:

  it was no longer uncommon for aventurine to wake and find sunday gone.  by now,  the blond should have grown accustomed to the ambiguity of their  relationship.  yet,  the lines between reality and dream had begun to blur.  the whispered 'i love you's' teetered on the edge of their lips,  threatening to spill before they could fully form in their minds.  on the pillow beside aventurine lay a single white feather,  undoubtedly plucked from one of sunday's wings  —  a delicate reminder of their time together,  perhaps,  or something more significant to halovians.  only time will reveal its true meaning.  

Aventurine decants thought after thought until all that's left is but a simple action. Twirling the feather around, delicate white dances as he muses that perhaps he has doomed an innocent once more, but he is happy.

Strange. The way their lives had become so intertwined they could no longer be but a distant unpleasant memory to each other. Neither of them were supposed to be alive, and yet they both breathe. Neither of them were supposed to walk freely, and yet, chains lengthened, cage left open for a reality bigger than themselves. Neither of them were supposed to ever cross each others path, and yet dreams tie a knot around them, their image carved to fragments, whether of present, past or wistful future, they figured as each others ghosts, haunting longingly.

Somewhere in the middle, dream and reality mix, and all that's left to trust is that feeling that grew with each meeting. It didn't matter what it was called, even if deep down, he knew it's name.

They had invaded and staked their claims on each other without knowing. As they struggled, together in dreams, apart in reality, somehow, they grew closer and closer still. This intimacy had been a way to dull pain, but the method was addictive, where their mere presence was enough to find relief. At least he hoped he had become such for Sunday too. A selfish thought, one he feels earned, one he dreads so.

But the morning is high, and all that's left of Sunday is a feather. The first and only sign he had ever been there at all, the assertion that this dance, is not only real but shared.

It must be intentional, it has to be. Someone like Sunday who meticulously cares for each aspect in his life and himself, wouldn't be so careless to just leave evidence behind. His first instinct is to ask, of course. A common enough impulse, in itself. He grabs his phone, swiping away at whatever notifications he has before he reaches the contact.

The advantages of the IPC's share in Penacony went beyond monetary assets. He snaps a picture, sending a quick text to Robin.

'Does this mean anything?'

All he's rewarded is a simple ':)'.

[stoneheartslave]

Suffering from work tiredness. I will be back tomorrow... hopefully. My brain just blue screened so hard today.

[narisawr]

Aventurine impression clothing! ♠

[pyract0]

Random thoughts with hsr men: shower edition

☪Includes: Dan heng, Jing yuan, Blade, Aventurine, Sunday, Sampo + bonus ☪This is so unserious but I had some thoughts for it. Slowly gets more chaotic as it goes. ☪No defined gender or pronouns, referred to as "you", nothing explicit just fluff

୨♡୧ Dan heng who sets the shower temperature to only cold water, as low as it can go. ୨♡୧ Dan heng who due to his species being connected to the sea, has a lower tolerance to higher temperatures. ୨♡୧ Dan heng who happens to forget you aren't like him, being able to comfortably enjoy the warmth, drags you in to the near freezing flow. ୨♡୧ Dan heng who is then forced to try and shower while you cling to his side and use him for heat, but can't find it in himself to complain as he pulls you impossibly closer to his chest.

-`♡´- Jing yuan who unlike his old friend, has his showers unbearable hot. -`♡´- Jing yuan who watches you try and get a tolerance for his temperature preference, while chuckling at your pained yelps. -`♡´- Jing yuan who sits on the floor of the shower (you took away his stool privileges) while you spend a bit too long tying to wash through his mane of hair. -`♡´- Jing yuan who falls asleep in the shower and refuses to wake until you finish, giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead as a thank you for your hard work.

♱✮♱ Blade who doesn't see a point in regular showers around his long life and missions that span on for up to months at a time. ♱✮♱ Blade who only agreed to shower with you after you dragged him in, glaring at you as his bangs flop over his eyes. ♱✮♱ Blade who stands in the corner for most of the time while you shower, with you forcefully washing his hair and detangling it. ♱✮♱ Blade who the whole time acts like he hates it with his whole being, but he can't hide the twitch at the corner of his mouth listening to you talk his ear off in such an intimate area.

♠︎♦️♠︎ Aventurine who takes his self care very seriously, making sure the water is set to the perfect temperature to benefit his skin and hair. ♠︎♦️♠︎ Aventurine who spends a long time on every step in his routine, only the best for him as he would say. ♠︎♦️♠︎ Aventurine who helps you to do the same, taking his time to rinse your hair over and over with each product he applies. ♠︎♦️♠︎ Aventurine who finally finishes after you've sat on the floor resting against his leg or the wall for over half a system hour, pulling you up and helping you dry off while he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles into your shoulder.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who enjoys these intimate moments with you the most, just a simple time to unwind and relax with you without interruption. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who spends a long time scrubbing your scalp for you while letting you return the favour for his wings, having you shampoo the soft feathers with the upmost care. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who, much like a bird, shakes his wings to remove the excess water build up, and who accidently flicks soap into your eyes on more than one occasion. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who can't help but laugh at your misery as you forcefully rub your eyes until they're red, but as an apology cradles your face in his soft hands and places a loving kiss on your lips as an apology.

𓆩⚝𓆪 Sampo who often needs you to remind him to shower, having you pull him from whatever he's doing at a decent time. 𓆩⚝𓆪 Sampo who sometimes is a bit slow, stepping into the running shower just to have you force him out in disgust upon realising he wore still had his now damp socks on. 𓆩⚝𓆪 Sampo who sometimes gets distracted while talking to you and slips on the soapy floor, landing flat on his ass and whining into your leg after clutching onto it. 𓆩⚝𓆪 Sampo who after your shower, hangs off your back like a leech and pampers you with kisses for being an angel and helping him, who only stops when you smack him with your towel so you can finally dry off.

Bonus:

• ➵ ✩ Boothill who got the idea of showering together from hearing couples talk about it, finally making the move after seeing your drowsy figure and sluggish actions walk past him. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who was ecstatic at the opportunity, practically dragging you to your shared bathroom and giving you a sharkish grin. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who didn't think of how... shocking your shower together might have been, completely forgetting about his cyborg anatomy. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who sits next to you after getting healed for your electrothermal burns, rubbing his face against your chest like a cat and looking like he'd start crying if that was even possible for him anymore, only meeting your eyes after you place a kiss to his crown and let him know you're okay.

ׂ╰┈➤ Note Longer fic for Jing yuan, Sunday and Boothill here!

[aventurineswife]

Can I request Ratio, Moze, Aventurine, Sunday, Dan heng, Argenti and Jing Yuan involving their s/o or spouse in their exercise? Ill leave it up to creative freedom fr u but like the kisses when doing push ups or somehow practicing their attacks on their s/o in wholesome ways (just an idea but Churin doing the coin drop attack while his partner holds an umbrella above their head or something more wholesome)

-🍮♠

Love Is The Most Dangerous Strategy Of All

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Moze x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Fluff, Romantic Moments, Established Relationship, Playful Banter, Combat Training, Sweet Gestures, Slow Dancing, Quiet Moments.

Warnings: Mild Violence (in sparring and training sequences), Themes of Emotional Vulnerability(?), Light Suggestive Content (kisses and teasing moments), Mentions of Intense Training Practices.

Ratio sat at his desk, papers scattered around him in an organized chaos. His long hours of intellectual pursuit often left him longing for an outlet, and today, he had come up with an idea. He glanced toward you, lounging on the couch, your eyes glimmering with curiosity.

"Would you like to join me in a mental exercise?" Ratio asked, the usual sarcasm in his tone replaced by something more playful.

You raised an eyebrow. "Mental exercise? What kind of game are we playing?"

Ratio’s eyes twinkled behind his glasses. He stood, stepping to a corner of the room, and retrieved a sleek board game filled with complex patterns and symbols, designed to challenge even the sharpest minds. "A game of logic and strategy. You will need to anticipate my every move—much like our relationship."

You laughed. "That sounds... dangerous."

"Only for those unprepared." Ratio smiled, his usual arrogance softened by the lightheartedness of the moment.

The game began, and Ratio’s mind whirred at full speed, trying to anticipate your every move. You were quick to catch on, forcing Ratio to keep up. At one point, after a particularly sharp maneuver, you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, catching him off guard.

"Consider that a victory." you teased.

Ratio smirked, adjusting his glasses. "Such tactics will not deter me. But... they may motivate me to work even harder."

The night was quiet, save for the soft hum of distant winds. Moze stood in the middle of a training ground, his blade drawn, eyes focused. You watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, concerned but intrigued.

"You’re being too hard on yourself." you called out softly.

Moze’s eyes flickered briefly, but his expression remained cold, impassive. He was practicing his shadow strikes—silent, swift, and deadly. You stepped forward, offering a gentle suggestion. "What if you let me help?"

Without a word, Moze nodded, moving toward you with eerie grace. He signaled for you to stand in the middle of the training area. “I won’t hurt you.” he said, though it sounded more like a command than a reassurance.

The training began. Moze’s strikes were fast, but he purposefully slowed them down, practicing his precision. You stood still and calm, evading each strike with fluid motion, barely moving a muscle.

After several attempts, Moze finally approached, his blade hovering near your neck. Instead of striking, he lowered his weapon, looking into your eyes.

"Perfect. You’re becoming as swift as shadows themselves."

He didn’t need to say more. You smiled, taking a brief pause to kiss him gently on the lips before stepping back. "And you’re finally letting go of the shadows, aren’t you?"

Aventurine grinned mischievously, twirling a coin between his fingers. You stood beneath a large, intricately designed umbrella, a slight frown tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Are you certain this is safe?" you asked, shifting your weight to one side as you adjusted the umbrella.

"Of course!" Aventurine said with a wink. "It’s all about the thrill of the game."

He took a deep breath and dropped the coin. With a fluid motion, he twirled his body, hands outstretched. The coin landed perfectly in his palm as he spun, effortlessly dodging the shower of raindrops that fell on you both.

You laughed, but it was a laugh filled with admiration, your gaze following his every move.

"Impressive," you said, watching him strike a dramatic pose with the umbrella still held above you. "Maybe I should take a gamble with you sometime."

Aventurine, ever the charmer, closed the distance between you and kissed you gently on the lips. "The best bet I’ve ever made is the one on you."

Sunday stood in a garden bathed in the soft glow of twilight, his coat flowing behind him like a royal cape. You stood nearby, watching him with admiration. Today, Sunday had chosen a more gentle form of exercise—a slow dance, a symbolic gesture for peace, a reflection of his own philosophy.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, extending his hand.

You smiled, taking it without hesitation, your fingers intertwining. As the music started, you moved in tandem, each step purposeful and elegant. Sunday’s eyes met yours with a quiet intensity, his every movement controlled, graceful.

"Feel the rhythm," Sunday whispered, spinning you under his arm. "Life, like dance, is about harmony."

The dance flowed seamlessly, your movements as one, until Sunday pulled you close, his lips brushing against your ear. "You are the perfect partner, in every way."

You smiled, your heart full, and kissed him back tenderly. "And you are the dream I never want to wake from."

Dan Heng stood at the training grounds, the spear in his hands. He was practicing a series of swift thrusts and spins, each movement calculated, precise. You stood by, leaning casually against a tree, watching with a mix of admiration and concern.

"Don’t overdo it!" you called out after a particularly powerful strike that sent a gust of wind rippling through the air.

Dan Heng paused, his stoic expression unchanged. He glanced at you, an almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I’m fine." he replied softly.

However, it wasn’t long before he offered to let you join in. "Would you like to try?"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. "With the spear?"

Dan Heng nodded. "It’s about control, not strength. Let me guide you."

With a gentle hand on your waist, Dan Heng showed you the proper stance, your bodies aligning in perfect symmetry. As you practiced together, Dan Heng’s stoic demeanor softened, the quiet moments filled with shared trust. After a few successful strikes, you smiled up at him.

"Not bad for someone who’s all about silence," you teased.

Dan Heng chuckled, albeit quietly. "It’s not about what’s said. It’s about what’s felt."

He kissed you lightly on the forehead, grateful for the peace you brought to his turbulent heart.

Argenti stood, his sword gleaming in the sunlight, the red fabric of his attire flowing in the breeze. You sat nearby, watching him intently. His expression was one of perfect concentration as he practiced his swings, each movement a deliberate attempt to maintain his sense of purity.

He turned to face you, his expression noble yet inviting. "Would you honor me by joining my exercises today? A bout of sparring, if it pleases you?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to fight me?"

Argenti's lips curved into a resolute smile, his eyes gleaming with unyielding determination. "Fear not, for I seek not to harm you, but to temper my resolve. It is the sanctity of honorable combat that stirs my soul."

With a gentle nod, you agreed, standing and grabbing a sparring sword. The match began, and Argenti’s movements were swift and graceful, the perfect blend of honor and beauty. Despite the intensity of the fight, he ensured every blow was controlled, never too harsh.

As you crossed blades, you suddenly spun and caught him off guard, knocking the sword from his hand. You stepped close, your breath mingling, before pressing a quick, teasing kiss to his lips.

"Seems like you need more practice," you teased.

Argenti inclined his head, his voice brimming with pride and humility. "I shall redouble my efforts and train with greater fervor to earn my place in our next match."

Jing Yuan stood in the training hall, his hands poised on the reins of his strategy. You stood before him, the subject of his training today.

"Shall we begin?" Jing Yuan asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You nodded, gripping the training blade he’d given you. As Jing Yuan moved through the motions, his calm demeanor was evident, but there was a playful undertone to his every move. His strikes were light but precise, testing your reflexes and balance.

At one point, as he parried an attack, Jing Yuan swept you into a spin and caught you in a gentle embrace, pulling you close.

"You are growing stronger," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But I still hold the advantage in speed."

You grinned, your arms winding around him as you kissed him back. "We’ll see about that."

Jing Yuan’s laugh rumbled softly in his chest as he kissed you again, the warmth of the moment eclipsing the training. "I always look forward to our challenges."

[monsieurivoblan]

The,,, the new Aventurine render I love him

[sugiliteshusband]

the difference in how i treat my f/os is so funny. like.

me when aventurine: baby. baby. let me help him. please. he doesn’t deserve this. i love him. i will buy him therapy. please let me buy him therapy. please

me when sugilite: i hope he fucks himself

[mrmeowski]

Hello~ I just read ur work "Can I" and aughhhh im falling in love with my biases more XD If it alright, could i make 2 requests and you can choose either one or both of em? the characters are fr dan heng, aventurine, dr ratio, jiaoqiu, jing yuan and ae!sunday 1. Them with a s/o who is sensitive to the cold but they refuse to complain to him thinking it may bother them. like how'd they

2. Them with a s/o who wants to exchange bites of food or sweets with them (they have one food and the boi has another that they wanna try basically so they askin fr a nibble). Tempted to see the fluffy behaviours or maybe teasing ones whichever u assume And just in case, I apologise if its too much wrk XP

.🍮♠💙

˚✧𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞✧˚

Synopsis: You’ve always caught colds quicker than others, and even when you’re uncomfortable, you struggle to speak up, prioritizing others over yourself. But what happens when you meet someone who makes your well-being theirt utmost priority?

CW: Coughing blood [Jing Yuan], injured soldiers [Jiaoqiu], slight character backstory spoilers [Aventurine, Jiaoqiu], slight suggestive

A/N: Hey Anon!! I'm really glad you liked my work and I'll be making both of your requests becuase they look sooo fun to make☺️ And since I'm dried up of HSR ideas

Word Count: 6.5k

Characters: 🧡༻✧ Aventurine [1.4k] 💜༻✧ Dan Heng [872] 🧡༻✧ Dr. Ratio [827] 💜༻✧ Jiaoqiu [985] 🧡༻✧ Jing Yuan [1.1k] 💜༻✧ Sunday [1.4k]

⋇⊰AVENTURINE⊱⋇

Sigonia-IV was a harsh world, its sun scorching during the day and its nights plunging into a cold that felt as though it could freeze your very bones. The people here learned to adapt, to survive under the relentless heat by day and the bitter chill by night.

But for you, the balance was difficult, especially during the cold nights when your body felt as if it were being shredded by the freezing temperatures. You could barely get any sleep, constantly waking in discomfort, wrapped in whatever rags you could find to keep yourself warm.

Your friend, Kakavasha was always the one to notice when you’d start wearing down, never letting you hide it for too long.

"Man, [Name]... you look awful." He pinched your cheek one morning as you rubbed your eyes, groaning as you tried to shake off the exhaustion.

"Shut up," you hissed, swatting his hand away.

You rolled your eyes, feeling the weight of the bags under them. You'd been running on fumes for days, the sleepless nights piling up on you.

His laughter following you as you walked through the dusty streets.

“You know, [Name]... we should skip the labor for the day. Your birthday’s coming up, riiight?”

You yawned and rubbed your eyes again, trying to ignore how tired you really were.

“...You know we can’t,” you muttered, not bothering to look at him.

You knew how it would go. The labor was constant here. There was no such thing as a break unless you could afford it—and you couldn’t. Not on Sigonia-IV.

"Augh, come on, look at you!" He nudged your shoulder with his elbow, forcing you to look at him. His grin was cheeky, a playful glint in his eyes. "You look like a corpse! Just.. one day. I know a spot!"

His persistence made you sigh in defeat. You’d been too exhausted to argue, and deep down, you knew he wasn’t going to let you say no.

“Fine,” you said, giving in with a resigned shrug. "But only this time." His eyes sparkled with excitement, and before you could brace yourself, he’d grabbed your arm, pulling you along as he charged forward.

“Wait—” you stammered, struggling to match his pace as you stumbled over the uneven ground, nearly tripping on rocks and loose debris. “V-Vasha, hold up!” But he either didn’t hear you or chose to ignore your plea, his laughter ringing out as he weaved through the sparse crowd.

Soon, the noise and remnants of the town faded, and you found yourself surrounded by open, barren land. The sun blazed overhead, intense enough that you had to pull your hood up to shield yourself from its harsh rays, but heseemed unfazed by the heat, charging ahead with an energy that felt endless.

“Are we close?” You panted, but he only grinned, slowing down just enough to keep the mystery alive.

You trailed him along a path winding up the side of a rocky slope. The terrain was uneven but soon you found yourself climbing higher until the view stretched out into something unexpected.

You were speechless, mouth slightly open as you gazed at the sight before you.

The endless expanse of desert and mountains glowed under the skies painted in a deep hues of red, purple, and a soft, golden orange that radiated from the sun. Feathery clouds streaked across the sky in hues of crimson and violet, blending into an almost surreal canvas.

"It's… beautiful," you whispered, transfixed by the stunning view, your eyes locked on the horizon.

“I know.” He murmured softly, but his gaze wasn’t on the horizon—it was on you, taking in the awe in your expression, the way your eyes reflected the colors of the sky. “It’s truly beautiful... Come on, no time for sightseeing! We're still not there," He called out, his hand suddenly grasping yours, giving it a gentle tug to bring you closer.

“Wait… this isn’t the spot?”

“It’s... a part of it, but the real gem is just ahead." He moved ahead, his hand still holding yours as he led you toward a cave entrance, hidden behind a curtain of beads.

The beads shimmered in the dying light of the day, the sound of them clinking lightly against one another as he pushed them aside, revealing the interior of the cave.

You gasped, stepping inside. The walls were lined with old trinkets—fragments of forgotten times, relics from some long-past era.

The flickering remnants of a campfire sat cold in the center, and around it were pillows and blankets, their fabric faded and worn.

“Do you like it?” His voice carrying a hint of nervousness as he watched you take in the small cave.

“Yes! So, you found all of this?” You reached out, tracing a finger over one of the metal pieces scattered about, fascinated by each strange object.

He grinned, looking pleased.

“Yeah! There are tons of these out here, though I couldn’t tell you where half of them came from,” he laughed, watching you examine one in particular with intrigue. Recognizing it, he moved closer. “Wait—give me that one for a second. I wanna show you something cool.”

From the on, the two of you spent hours talking, laughing, and experimenting with each trinket. But eventually, the light began to fade.

The sky outside the cave transformed into rich shades of red and purple as the sun dipped low, casting shadows across the cave walls. You blinked, realizing how late it had gotten.

“The sun’s going down…” you murmured, a hint of worry creeping into your voice. “I-I don’t think we’ll be able to get back in time.” He only gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“That’s fine,” he said, squatting down to gather some rocks. “I’ve spent the night here plenty of times. I’ll get a fire going. We’ll be warm.” You tried to smile, but the idea of spending a night in this cold made you tense.

For him, it might be comfortable enough, but for you…

The fire crackled softly, you asked him about his favorite piece, his eyes lighting up as he shared the memories.

Eventually, as the sun dimmed and the stories faded, the chill in the air grew sharper, but you tried not to let it show. You faked a smile as he settled down across from you, rolling onto his side with a yawn.

"Goodnight, [Name]..." he murmured, half-asleep already.

“Goodnight, Vasha,” you replied, burrowing into your thin blanket and tucking your legs into your hoodie.

As soon as his eyes were closed, your smile faded. You could feel the cold seeping into your bones, making you shiver despite your best efforts.

No matter how tightly you wrapped yourself, the fire offered little relief, and your fingers and toes started to go numb. Glancing over, you noticed that even he seemed affected; he shifted occasionally, his face scrunched up as he tried to stay warm in his sleep.

A thought flickered through your mind—perhaps you could just inch closer to him, share a little warmth. But then again, he was sound asleep now, his chest rising and falling steadily. You didn’t want to disturb him.

Instead, you pulled off your own thin blanket and quietly moved over to him, draping it around his shoulders. For a moment, you watched as he unconsciously snuggled into the extra warmth, a slight smile softening. You hoped it would help him rest a little better.

With your blanket now gone, you returned to the fire, trying to warm your hands over the low flames.

The chill was so intense that your entire body trembled, and you pulled your legs tighter to your chest. It was then that you heard a low, sleepy voice break the silence.

"[Name]...?" His voice heavy with sleep. "You're still awake?"

You froze, trying not to let on how miserable you felt. His gaze narrowing as he took in your shivering form. He noticed then, your thin blanket draped over him instead of you, and his expression shifted from confusion to concern.

He sat up slowly, his gaze lingering on your hunched figure for a moment before he crawled toward you without saying a word. He closed the distance, his brows furrowed.

Without warning, he pressed his side against yours, wrapping one of the blankets around both of you. You felt the warmth of his body as he pulled you close, his arm sliding around your shoulders to hold you firmly against him.

"Why didn’t you say anything, huh?" He murmured,

"I… I didn’t want to wake you," you admitted, cheeks flushing at his closeness.

He huffed softly, almost amused, as if the very idea was ridiculous.

"I’d rather be woken up than see you trying to freeze yourself like this. Giving up your only blanket like a self-sacrificing hero..." he teased, nudging his head on the crook of your neck.

"Guess you’re lucky I’m here to take over that role."

⋇⊰DAN HENG⊱⋇

Man, it sure is chilly here. You despised the cold—it crept into your bones, made your fingers stiff and your thoughts sluggish. Yet, somehow, you found yourself sitting in Dan Heng’s room, enduring what felt like the iciest atmosphere on the Astral Express.

How did this happen? Well, you had volunteered to help him with his research on a particular planet and its people. It had seemed like a good idea at the time—spending time with him, delving into his meticulous work, maybe even impressing him a little with your insights.

But you hadn’t considered one key detail: He liked his room cold, arctic even. And now, with the cooler set to its lowest possible temperature, you were fighting the urge to shiver.

You glanced at him, sitting calmly at his desk, completely unaffected by the temperature. He had always been composed, almost detached in his demeanor.

Asking him to turn down the cooler felt... intrusive, like you’d be disrupting his sense of balance. This was his space, after all, and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in his own room.

“Hey, [Name], take a look at this." His calm voice pulled you from your thoughts.

He turned slightly, his teal gaze meeting yours, the faint glow of his device reflecting in his eyes. You pushed yourself up from where you were sitting.

Every step was a fight to suppress the shiver running through your body, your fingers numb despite being stuffed in your pockets.

“What is it?” Keeping your voice steady as you moved closer to him.

He gestured toward the display, a map of a distant planet spinning in holographic detail. “This planet—Denvalis-IV—caught my attention. Its climate is… unique.”

You leaned in to get a better look, but instead of focusing, your mind was drawn to the faint warmth radiating from his form. It was subtle, like a beacon against the icy atmosphere of his room.

For a moment, you let yourself indulge, thinking maybe, just maybe, you could edge a little closer without him noticing—

“[Name], are you even listening?”

The sharp question jolted you from your reverie, your eyes darting back to the screen.

“O-Of course!” You said quickly, trying to play it cool.

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but he didn’t push.

“Hmph...” He turned his attention back to the screen. “What did you learn of this place?"

"Let me show you.” With a few tap, images of its habbitants displayed on the screen. "The inhabitants—look at them." You pointly but the moment you relieazed your hand was shaking you instantly put it down. "They’re… incredible."

The projection showed a group of Denvalis-IV's residents—tall, sinewy figures with thick, layered exoskeletons that shimmered faintly, almost like armor.

"Despite the violent storms, extreme temperatures further amplified by the Stellaron, they've been able to adapt," you continued. "And it’s not just physical. Look at these structures—they’ve developed entire cities that are mobile, designed to migrate with the weather patterns."

“It’s fascinating,” he murmured, leaning closer to study the images. “They’ve managed to build entire civilizations in this planet... even after the Stellaron erupted." His gaze flicked to you, something unreadable in his expression. “You’re knowledgeable,” he said, his voice soft. “And you’re also…”

You froze, sensing his next words before he spoke them.

“…cold.”

He then raised his hand, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. The warmth of his touch made you involuntarily lean toward him, seeking it like a moth to a flame.

His warmth was comforting, but it also amplified how much the freezing temperature of the room had bitten into you. Eyes softened slightly as he observed you.

“Your cheeks are puff..." He glance down, noticing your tembling hands, "and you’re shivering.” His lips pressed into a thin line, and with a sigh, he turned away to adjust the cooler.

The hum of the air system shifted, and the temperature in the room began to rise.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He asked, his back still to you.

You tried to shrug it off, shoving your hands into your pockets to conceal their shaking.

“You’re… quite observant.”

He turned back to you, his gaze piercing yet patient.

“Deflecting the question won’t help you," he said, his tone soft but firm.

You hesitated but finally, you admitted, "Well, I just… I-It’s your room. I didn’t want to bother you. I figured you like the cold, so—”

“So, you prioritize others’ comfort above your own?” He interrupted, stepping closer.

The sudden proximity made your breath hitch. He was so close now, his quiet intensity pulling all your focus. His warm breath brushed against your chilled skin, and for a moment, all you could do was stare.

He tilted his head slightly, observing you as though trying to read the thoughts you weren’t voicing. “Hmm...” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost teasing.

His arm moved, slow but deliberate, slipping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Your pulse quickened as the heat of his body cut through the lingering chill in the room.

His expression remained composed, but the faint blush dusting his pale cheeks didn’t escape your notice.

“...I do enjoy being this close to you. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

⋇⊰DR. RATIO⊱⋇

The library was your sanctuary, a place where the air hummed softly with silence, inviting you to dive into your work. Today, it beckoned like a far-off paradise, you'd love to go there if the winter wind isn't creeping through the walls, chilling you to the bone.

Bundled up in your thickest jacket, you made a quick hot cocoa in the small kitchenette, hoping it’d warm you just enough to keep working. Your dormmate, Ratio Veritas, was engrossed in a dense-looking tome, his gaze fixed in a way that made him look almost statuesque, detached from the cold entirely.

You sighed, slipping back into your room, hoping to hide your shivering mess from him. You knew he disliked interruptions, and you didn’t want to hear him complain about you 'ruining his concentration' with your uncontrollable shivers.

You sat at your desk, fingers trembling as you flipped open your books, each word on the page starting to blur. But you refused to tell him and do something that can help.

It's no use anyway, he'd only huff, make some pointed comment about your lack of preparation, or worse, pretend to ignore you altogether. Besides, you didn’t want to burden him, especially when he was absorbed in his work.

Time passed, or so it felt. Your focus drifted, every fiber of your being caught in an cold-induced fatigue. You thought about getting up, maybe crawling under the covers of your bed, but as you pushed yourself to stand, the world swirled and faded into black.

When your eyes opened, you realized you were no longer at your room but on someone’s lap. Warmth wrapped around you, unfamiliar and yet... oddly comforting.

A gentle hand brushed through your hair, moving rhythmically, soothing you back to wakefulness. Blinking, you looked up, eyes trailing from a complicated book cover down to his familiar profile

“Veritas...?” You murmured, still disoriented.

He glanced down, face as unamused as always.

“Ah. You’re finally awake.” His voice held its usual cold tone, but his hand didn’t stop its careful stroking through your hair.

It felt far gentler than his gaze would ever imply.

“W-What happened?” Stammering, trying to shift, but he placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you still.

“You passed out,” he replied, his voice a low mutter as he went back to his book.

Your eyes widened. You... passed out? Now that he mentioned it, you could feel a faint throbbing in your head and a dull ache in your abdomen from the fall. Heat crept into your cheeks, embarrassed and unsure.

You hadn’t meant to make a scene, and you hadn’t meant for him to get involved.

“I’m… I-I’m sorry." The words rolled out your tounge before you even realized it.

He raised a brow, tilting his book slightly to inspect you as though you were an anomaly in need of explanation.

“Has the fall scrambled your brain?” He asked, his tone dry, even a bit amused. “What could you possibly be sorry for?” He closed his book completely, leaning in a bit, scrutinizing you with a detached but focused intensity. “Hmm... perhaps there’s an internal bleeding and affected your speech?” He mused.

Your cheeks flushed as you averted your gaze.

“No, no… It’s just… you were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you, so—”

“So, you chose to hide that your suffering?” He chuckled, a sound both mocking and strangely warm. “I would never undermine the value of academic focus, but you’ve taken it to the extreme. This involves you life, not just a mere distraction.” Leaning back, he reopened his book, though his eyes lingered on you, assessing. “In any case, I can study while you… stay here,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“What?” You shifted slightly, instinctively finding a more comfortable position, only to feel the firmness of his thigh tense under your head.

His fingers paused, but only for a moment, before he resumed the gentle circles on your scalp, thumb tracing patterns.

“I said, get some rest,” he replied, a slight edge in his voice, though the warmth in his touch betrayed any irritation.

For a man with such cutting words and an aloof demeanor, his touch was remarkably gentle, grounding you in a way that no words ever could explain.

Minutes passed in silence, the stillness of the room broken only by the faint rustle of the pages. Then, almost reluctantly, he bit back his pride and spoke, his voice softer, quieter.

“Hey... [Name],” he murmured, feeling you hum in response, shifting slightly in his lap. A shiver ran through him, though he quickly masked it.

Hidden behind his book, his cheeks flushed red, and he brought the book up to his face, hoping it concealed his expression.

“If... if you ever need anything or… if you want help with something,” he continued, voice barely a whisper. He swallowed, speaking through his own restraint. “Just… tell me, alright?”

⋇⊰JIAOQIU⊱⋇

You looked up at the artificial skies of Xianzhou Yaoqing, watching as what could only be described as raindrops fell from the simulated heavens. Though the rain was artificial, the chill it carried was all too real.

You shivered as the cold breeze brushed against your skin, and instinctively, you pulled your coat tighter, wishing it would do more to ward off the biting wind. The camp had just won a major battle, but the aftermath was far from over. The injured were many, and every hand was needed.

You couldn’t afford to slack off now, not when the medics were busy patching up soldiers and treating the wounded. The chill in the air was nothing compared to the urgency of the situation.

You swallowed your discomfort and turned toward the tents where the injured were being treated, your footsteps quickening as you walked deeper into the makeshift infirmary.

And then, you saw him—Jiaoqiu, focused as always, sitting beside a bed where a man lay, his hands deftly bandaging the soldier’s wounds.

The moment he heard your footsteps, his ears twitched, and he looked up, flashing you that signature, bright smile. His tail wagged, the motion almost too endearing.

"[Name]!" His voice was cheery, but there was a slight hesitation in it as his eyes lingered on your flushed cheeks. "You’re looking a little… flushed. Are you alright?"

You quickly masked your discomfort with a smile, trying to sound nonchalant despite the cold creeping into your bones. No, you couldn’t tell him. Not now, not when everyone needed all the help they could get.

"I'm fine," you said, though your voice lacked conviction. "Just.. a little tired. I-I’ll get going—there are still a lot of hands needed." You flashed him a quick smile, trying to appear unaffected. "See you later during your break."

With that, you hastily walked away, eager to get to work. What you didn’t notice was the way his eyes followed you.

Your movements had become sluggish as the day wore on. Your fingers were a bit stiff, the chill in your bones seeping into every part of your body, and you found yourself sniffling more than you cared to admit.

No, you couldn't—You couldn't let the Foxian or anyone see you like this. You were the one who was supposed to take care of the injured, not the other way around! You couldn't afford to show weakness.

"Dr. [Name]...?" A voice interrupted your thoughts. You blinked, looking down at the soldier in front of you. His face was pale, his breath shallow. "A-Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course," you answered too quickly, trying to brush off the unease you felt creeping up on you.

In reality, it was hard to focus on your work when you felt like your body was betraying you. Before you could go back to your task, you heard that voice again. It was familiar, and now, it sent a shiver down your spine—not from the cold, but from the sudden concern you knew it carried.

"As a medical student, I expect you to care of yourself, [Name]." His tone was lighter than usual, but you could still detect the hint of worry in it.

You turned to see him standing there, arms crossed, his smile gone, replaced by a frown.

"Ah, but I’m fine," you protested weakly, chuckling to dismiss the concern.

But when he closed the distance between you, his hand gently rested against your forehead, and the warmth from his touch made your heart skip a beat.

He hummed softly, the sound both soothing and commanding. "You have a cold, [Name]. It’s better to rest than push yourself." His voice was firm yet caring, and it made it impossible for you to argue.

"But—"

"No buts," he interrupted, his tone soft but resolute. Before you could react, he slipped his arms around your waist, effortlessly pulling you toward him. "Let's get you some rest, hm?" His smile returned, and it was warm and gentle, a stark contrast to his usual playful teasing.

You could feel your resolve crumbling as he drew you closer to his side. It felt like he was enjoying this a bit too much, if the sly smile playing on his lips as he led you away wasn't obvious enough.

"I could do it myself, Jiaoqiu! You need to go treat the soldiers!" You sighed in defeat, but you knew deep down that resistance was futile.

The moment he set his mind to something, you knew you’d lose.

"I’m on my break," he simply said, as if that explanation was enough to make you stop worrying. "I have nothing to do." Just as you were about to shoot another complaint, he raised his hand, signaling to one of the nearby medics.

"Need a hand over here!" He called out, his voice calm and commanding, directing the medic to help with the soldier you’d been treating earlier.

Turning back to you, he flashed you an innocent smile. "See? No need to worry about anything!" Every part of him practically pressed against you.

His arm was firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you close, and you could feel the soft, comforting weight of his tail winding gently around your leg.

Sure, it was a bit of a struggle to walk with him so near, but the heat from his body made it easy to ignore the chill that had settled deep within you.

You could feel the vibration of his chest as he chuckled, a soft sound that filled the air. His gaze lowered to meet yours, your eyes neatly closed and mouth slightly parted as though you were feeling heaven.

"I suppose I'm your medicine?" He mused, his finger tracing down the curve of your cheek with a gentle touch. He paused, his grin widening as he leaned closer. "Not that I mind... I could be all the warmth you'd ever need."

⋇⊰JING YUAN⊱⋇

You stared out from the fleet, watching as the snow-covered planet loomed into view, a world blanketed in endless ice. Even from behind the glass, you could feel a chill settling into your bones.

How did you end up here? Well, it had all started with a single slip of the tongue—admitting, without much thought, that you'd never once seen snow.

He’d looked at you curiously, his golden gaze sharp but gentle.

"Never seen snow?" He asked, surprised, his usual calm demeanor giving way to a hint of wonder.

You’d shrugged, brushing it off, mentioning briefly that your mother had never let you go anywhere with winter’s bite, then tried to change the subject.

But Jing Yuan had clearly taken it to heart. The General, in his subtle, thoughtful way, had decided he’d remedy that, and when the opportunity came—a mission to a world wrapped in eternal winter—he’d practically dragged you along.

Seeing his excitement, you hadn’t the heart to tell him the truth, that your mother hadn’t been overprotective without reason. She had known, as you did, that you were sensitive to the cold. But how could you ruin the General’s rare, genuine smile?

The doors slid open, and a harsh gust of icy wind hit you instantly, slicing through even the thick jacket he had insisted you wear.

You braced yourself, steeling against the cold. It wasn’t too bad—yet. Surely, you could hold out for a little while, right? Just enough to take in this strange, pristine winter world he’d wanted to show you.

"Isn't it magnificent?" He raised his gloved hand, catching a snowflake as it fluttered down.

He watched it melt into his palm, an almost childlike wonder on his face. The sight shook you from your thoughts, and, for the first time, you really looked around. Winter, in your mind, had always seemed bland—just a blur of whites and grays, cold and endless.

But standing here now, you could see the glistening world laid out before you. Snow blanketed the landscape, softening every angle, making everything look divine, untouched, as though you’d set foot into a world beyond reality.

You stepped out, your foot sinking deep into the snow. A sharp gasp escaped you at the sudden cold, and you whipped around, catching him chuckling behind you.

Embarrassment flared in your cheeks, warming them a bit as you muttered, “It’s not funny…” You turned your gaze back to the vast, shimmering landscape, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up your cheeks. “But… it is beautiful.” You took a few more steps, each one slightly awkward as your feet sank into the soft, powdery snow.

The crunch underfoot was strangely satisfying, each step sending a tiny thrill through you. Just as you were getting used to it, you felt something hit your back with a soft, cold thud. Whirling around, you found the General standing there, a mischievous grin plastered on his face, a snowball in hand.

“A general, starting snowball fights?” You said, raising a brow, trying to keep a straight face.

He shrugged with a smirk, as if throwing snowballs were a part of some important tactical training.

“Come now, did you think I’d let you enjoy this in peace?”

You bent down to gather some snow, forming a snowball of your own.

“In that case, General." Smiling as you took aim, “Prepare for battle!” The snowball left your hand, hurtling toward him, but he dodged it effortlessly, flashing you a playful smirk as he prepared to throw his next one.

And so began a wild, impromptu snowball fight between you and the general, each of you laughing and teasing as snow flew back and forth. In the thrill of the moment, the biting cold around you seemed distant, almost... forgotten. But there was a dangerous oversight.

You had underestimated winter’s toll on you. Between handfuls of icy snow and the chilled wind cutting across your exposed face, your body quickly began to feel the effects. Reality crashed down on you suddenly; your knees wobbled, then buckled, sending you crumpling to the ground.

“[Name]? [Name]!” His voice broke through the haze, distant and muffled, as you felt yourself slipping.

Everything grew fuzzy and dim, until all you could see was the stark white ground tinged with an alarming splash of red. He knelt before you, his voice laced with a rare edge of worry.

“[Name]?” He called again, urgency straining his usually steady tone.

His strong hands tilted your face up, but you barely registered it as the void overtook your vision.

In what felt like seconds—or perhaps hours—you blinked your eyes open, squinting against the dim light. There was a gentle weight on you, the tickle of soft hair brushing against your neck.

Groggily, you let out a faint groan, your hand sluggishly rising to push away what felt like a very heavy, unyielding presence on top of you. Whoever it was clearly had no sense of their own weight.

A low rumble vibrated against your chest as if this someone was grumbling, “Awake, are we?” His usual calmness was there, but you could hear a faint tremor of relief as he lifted his head to meet your gaze. His face softened, though his brow remained furrowed with concern. “You worried me back there.”

He lifted his head to meet your eyes, his face softening, though his brow remained knitted with concern.

“I’m sorry…” The apology left you in a near-whisper, and he made a quiet, thoughtful hum as he continued observing your features with that intense, almost unrelenting gaze.

“Perhaps this is why you’ve never seen snow?” His voice laced with a gentle tease touched by a genuine worry. “The medics said you got cold so quickly… your fingertips were already turning purple, you know. It wasn’t something to brush off.” You swallowed, cheeks warming, not quite able to meet his eyes.

“Y-Yeah... I’ve always been sensitive quite to the cold,” you admitted.

His hand rose to your cheek, his thumb brushing gently along your skin, warm against the lingering cold.

“But you did enjoy it, right?” He murmured.

Caught off guard, you hesitated, the warmth of his touch melting away the lingering chill that had clung to you since you’d first stepped onto the snowy planet.

You gave a small, reluctant nod.

“Of course I did..."

He chuckled, the sound low and soothing, “Good." his hand lingering on your cheek for a moment longer before slipping down to rest on your shoulder, pulling you closer.

“Then perhaps next time, you’ll tell me if you’re cold, hm? I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you with my actions...”

⋇⊰SUNDAY⊱⋇

The halls and rooms of the Astral Express felt colder than usual. You couldn't quite pinpoint why. Maybe you were coming down with something, or maybe it was the emptiness of the train itself.

Most of the crew was out on a mission, leaving only you, the ever-adorable conductor Pom-Pom, and the Halovian from Penacony, the newest addition to the crew.

You still weren’t sure how to feel about Sunday after everything that happened on Penacony. His calm demeanor and polite words seemed genuine enough, but there was still a sliver of doubt lingering in the back of your mind. Yet, as time passed, part of you wanted to believe his sincerity.

Sniffling softly, you tapped your fingers on the table, waiting for the coffee maker to finish brewing. The silence of the Express was unnerving. You’d grown accustomed to the lively presence of the Trailblazer and March 7th, always filling the place with their laughter and chatter. Now, the quiet was heavy.

A faint sound—the flip of a page—caught your attention. You glanced over, your eyes landing on him, seated on a nearby sofa. He was engrossed in a book, his wings tucked neatly behind him. Those small, puffy wings at the side of his head caught your eye.

Halovians had three pairs of wings, you'd heard. How warm did they feel? You couldn’t help but wonder, and the thought of running your fingers through those feathers danced at the edge of your mind. Would they be soft? Would they radiate warmth? And where are his other two?

You shook your head slightly. That would be way too forward, especially since you barely knew him. It was a silly thought anyway, but the cold made your mind wander.

You tore your gaze from his wings, only to meet his calm, steady eyes watching you intently. For a moment, you froze, unsure if it was from the lingering cold or simply the intensity of his gaze.

“[Name]?”

Blinking, you scrambled to regain your composure, attempting to smile as you buried your shaking hands deeper into your pockets.

“Wha… What is it?” you asked sheepishly.

“Your coffee’s finished.” He tilted his head ever so slightly, watching you with that unflinching gaze.

Your breath caught, feeling embarrassed under his stare. You must have looked like a wierdo.

“A-Ah! Right… thank you.” You tried to play it off, reaching quickly for the mug’s handle.

But your fingers, numb from the cold, barely managed to grip it before the weight slipped from your grasp. Everything happened in a blur.

The mug began to tilt, and in a desperate attempt, you reached with your other hand to catch it, only to feel the sharp sting of its hot surface searing your palm. With a reflexive jerk, you dropped it, the mug shattering against the floor.

"Shit..." You muttered under your breath, frustration bubbling over as you crouched to survey the damage.

From the distance, a high-pitched screech shattered the silence. “[Name]!” Pom-Pom’s unmistakable voice rang through the room, their little paws on their cheeks in cartoonish shock. “What have you done??”

You turned to face the adorable conductor, their tiny body practically vibrating with indignation. “Hmph! Clean your mess this instant!” They declared, paws now firmly planted on their hips.

You swore smoke is puffing out of their ears from frustration.

“I-I’m sorry, Pom-Pom! I’ll clean it up right away!” You stammered, scurrying off to fetch a dustpan and broom.

The air felt even colder when you returned, and as you knelt to sweep up the broken shards, you couldn’t help but notice how your hands trembled uncontrollably, each movement sending shivers through your already frozen body. Your teeth chattered despite your attempts to keep them still.

Focused on the mess before you, you didn’t realize someone was standing behind you until you bumped into them. Startled, you flinched and spun around, nearly dropping the broom in your hands. There, mere centimeters away, stood he, his piercing gaze fixed on you.

“May I assist you?” The Halovian tilted his head ever so slightly. “You appear to be shaking like a deer.”

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, perhaps a little too quickly, as you gripped the broom tighter in your trembling hands.

His brows knitted together, frowning.

“You’re clearly not fine. Your hands are trembling, and you’ve been shivering since earlier.” He crouched down to your level, his expression still composed but his gaze is a lot softer now.

“I said I’m fine,” you insisted, your tone firmer this time as you swept up a pile of shards, though your movements were clumsy and uneven.

His frown deepened, his golden eyes narrowing as they took in your trembling form.

"Enough." Before you could react, his gloved hands gently but firmly taking the dustpan and broom from your grasp.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the pointed look he shot you silenced you immediately.

"Get some rest, [Name]." His tone was calm yet commanding, leaving no room for argument. "If you'd like, I can brew you another coffee."

You stared at him, dumbfounded. The former head of the Oak Family, was kneeling on the floor to clean up a mess you had made? The thought alone was mortifying. More than that, you'd interrupted his reading—something you had tried so hard to avoid.

“I’m sorry...” You murmured, your voice barely audible as you quickly turned away and scurried down the hallway.

Once inside your room, you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh. The heater was on, but the cold seemed to seep through every crack and crevice, wrapping itself around you like an unwelcome guest. You tugged a blanket over your shoulders, but it did little to stop the shivers.

Moments later, a soft knock echoed through the door.

"May I come in?" His voice was smooth and quiet, like honey drizzling over a frozen lake.

You hesitated, clutching the blanket tighter.

"Y-Yeah." The door slid open, and he stepped inside, holding a steaming cup of coffee in one hand.

His elegant composure hadn’t faltered even for a bit. He set the cup down on the small table by your bedside before sitting beside you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his golden gaze sweeping over you with a hint of concern.

“I’m fine,” you lied, averting your eyes. “Just... a little chilly, that’s all.”

He reached for the coffee and handed it to you, his fingers brushing yours briefly. The warmth of the mug felt like a lifeline in your frozen grip.

“Drink,” he said simply, leaning back against the headboard.

You looked at him then at the steaming mug before taking a cautious sip, the heat spreading through your chest and chasing away some of the cold.

You didn’t notice him moving until you felt the weight of his coat drape over your shoulders.

“Sunday—”

“Shhh..." He instantly hushed you down.

As the coat fell more snugly around you, you caught sight of something dark behind him. Two faintly shimmering pairs of wings stretched just beyond his back, their colors deeper and more shadowed than the smaller set behind his ears. They shifted slightly before folding back.

Your eyes lingered on them longer than you intended, and his lips quirked into the faintest smirk.

“Curious?” He asked, his voice teasing yet calm.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I wasn’t staring—”

“Oh? Then my eyes must be mistaken becuase you were,” he said, cutting you off again, though there was no malice in his tone.

“Oh? Then my eyes must be deceiving me, because you were,” he chuckled softly, a sound rich and melodic, like the first note of a forgotten song. "It’s fine, my dear," he murmured, though his voice faltered just slightly.

His gaze shifted momentarily, and for the briefest of moments, a shadow of vulnerability flickered across his features. His wings, darker and more imposing than usual, twitched faintly behind him, betraying his uneasiness.

But you paid no mind to his hesitation, far too enveloped in the unexpected warmth of his coat and presence. The heavy fabric wrapped around you like a cocoon, shielding you from the bitter cold that had clung to you all day.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable but instead soothing, like the calm after a storm. It was he who broke the serenity.

His voice low and steady as he spoke, “Next time, [Name], don’t shy away from me.”

Sweet Bites» [WIP] Request» Masterlist»

[st4r-th0ughts]

That sucks man. I can't imagine losing ever losing my tumblr acc like that. Somebody probably just reported and ran like a little bitch. Things are gonna get better, and I do hope that you're doing better now. *blasts you with aventurine pussi water* :333 — 3000 🔫 anon (i forgot my anon name 💀)

Bet they did, and I have a small idea of who it could be tbh. Glad to see you again :3 (mm pussi)

[avcnturine]

THE SAXOPHONE IS UNEXPECTED, BUT APPRECIATED. it blares not a second before his hand turns the door handle, and even the aventurine of stratagems, accustomed to entrance as he is, arches his brows in subtle surprise. the attendees of the dreamjolt hostelry part like sand dunes under a storm, opening up a convenient walkway right as he steps in, and for a split second he wonders if this is the good doctor's doing, if maybe making it out of penacony alive warranted even that astringent man's congratulations, enough to orchestrate a welcome party.

and then, as he realizes all the occupants' backs are turned and they're cheering for the lights coming on over the small stage at the other end, he remembers who invited him here and chuckles quietly to himself, pocketing his phone with an easy gesture.

though he wasn't the reason for it in the end, aventurine walks the makeshift red carpet with a carriage as though he were, a self-assured poise that has others moving around him naturally without thinking. over the years, it's become easier and easier to see just how much money and position talk an invisible language, even when no one knows who you are and could likely care less about your being there. and as for his destination, ratio hadn't told him exactly where in the hostelry to meet him, but judging from their last clandestine encounter in a similar place, he navigates to the bar like a compass north, and it isn't long before a tall back comes into view, topped in indigo and gold wreath like a sore thumb——a touchpoint of the pristine in a spot better known for chaos. a drink is being set down in front of him by the bartender as he approaches, swirling with color, and he can only imagine what kind of expression the other must be wearing as he looks it over.

"penacony's drinks are better experienced than studied, professor." his comment is light and friendly in lieu of greeting, the look in his eye suggesting perhaps at your expense. in the same beat, he offers their host a congenial nod, his smile a practiced obfuscation of familiarity or the lack thereof, and in the next moment slides into one of the well-cushioned seats, apparently content to go on.

"you picked such a surprising place to meet ; i almost thought your account had been compromised. but seeing you here. . . " he gives the doctor a token, cursory once-over, "it doesn't look like there's anything wrong. no hologram, not even a plaster head. were you really just so excited to see me again?"　/　@incitomniaveritas

Low Spirits

veritas ratio & aventurine & gallagher thread 一 " Invitation "

[maidflowery]

Fortified Wager ♠♠♠ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 11

♦︎♦︎ Aventurine x Reader ♦︎♦︎ 𝕀𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

🄱🄰🄲🄺 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ １０】

𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

POV: Aventurine

⬥⬦⟣⟐⟢⬦⬥

Having lived a high-stakes life, only a handful of events ever stood out to Aventurine.

If he were to describe them in colors, his childhood days would shine with a blinding golden brilliance that never ceased to fade. Meanwhile, the thrilling, exhilarating days would burst with vibrant, fleeting hues—a series of colors that quickly turned into a dull gray.

In fact, most of his days, if not his entire life, were like this. After all, even the joy of turning the tide and achieving impossible victories was short-lived, especially when his success was practically guaranteed. They were exciting, but also forgettable.

Hence, if asked about his most noteworthy moments, he could recall them easily, as they were few and far between.

The day he was blessed by Aeon of Preservation, Amber Lord, was one of them.

Well, anyone would, when a god essentially granted them superpowers. Calling it a new beginning wouldn’t even be an exaggeration, as it marked a fresh start in their life—going from zero to hero.

How could anyone forget such a moment in life? Aventurine felt the same way—but for a different reason. Back then, he also felt emotions far more intensely compared to now.

It must have been around his final few days as a slave, shortly after he had killed his master, unsure whether the feat would send him to the IPC’s doorstep or the gallows.

So, when he awakened his power, he laughed until he cried, then cried until he laughed.

All he saw was red.

His father. His mother. His sister. His people. His homeland. The kind strangers who had helped him along the way. His enemy. His heartless, tyrant of a master. They were all gone—dead. And yet, the power bestowed upon him was a shield!

Even though there was no one left to protect.

Even though there was nothing left.

If...

In that moment, amidst his chaotic thoughts, a single word flashed.

—Don’t.

Something within him seemed to warn, urging him not to finish that thought. It was a warning, lest he reached a point of no return. Yet, his thoughts continued on, beyond his control.

If he had gained that power sooner, perhaps all those lives could have been saved. Perhaps, his sister wouldn’t have had to die.

Aah...

More than being shunned for the crime of being born an Avgin wherever he went; more than witnessing his own kin murdered in cold blood; more than the cruel, senseless whippings and beatings from his master—this 'what-if' hurt him the most.

Dying would’ve been better. How he wished he had perished alongside his kin, fallen in one of those life-or-death duels in the arena, or met his end at the hands of his master.

But alas, he survived them all—all thanks to this curse called luck.

As if that wasn’t enough, after losing everything, a god had mercifully bestowed upon him an impregnable shield, as if the heavens themselves were mocking him.

...Unforgivable.

When it felt as though he had no tears left to cry, he looked up toward the sky. Only one word lingered in his mind.

Unforgivable—!!

No matter if they were a priest, a prophet, a saint, an angel, a god, or an Aeon, there was one thing they should never have done!!

And so, he condemned the heavens.

Ever since then, he never cried anymore.

His gamble paid off, earning him a place in the IPC shortly after. Afterward, he eagerly volunteered for the deadliest missions, throwing himself into the most perilous situations without hesitation. He became known as someone who greeted death with a smile, welcoming it with open arms like a thrill-seeking madman.

Everyone thought he’d lost his mind—that unable to cope with the pain of losing his homeland and everyone he had ever known, he deliberately sought death.

Well, they weren’t entirely wrong.

What they didn’t know was that it was also his personal vendetta against gods—an all-out war against the heavens. To put it simply, he was making whoever up there earn their paycheck.

By risking his life time and again, the angels, gods, and Aeons would scramble to align every occurrence, incident, and coincidence, ensuring the survival of the blessed man, Kakavasha. And if they couldn’t keep up, let the heavens fall. He didn’t care if he died.

Maybe, he had lost his mind the day he awakened his powers. But then again, he probably had been crazy all along. It would’ve been crazier if anyone had managed to stay sane after everything that had happened.

Later on, he fully grasped his power. It seemed to evolve around his number one hobby in life: gambling.

He could convert his wealth and net worth into poker chips, conjuring them out of thin air. As he succeeded and climbed the ladder, the wealthier he became, which in turn made him stronger. The power was volatile, helping everything from fund transfers to demolishing the place. IPC’s wealth was infinite anyway, making him invincible. He could also summon a massive roulette wheel to inflict damage. He had one more trick up his sleeve, reserved for emergencies.

He'd use all of them to aid him in his mission—everything, except for that shield. Never that shield.

Besides, his unparalleled luck served him well, steering him clear of crises and deflecting tragedies—perhaps too well. As a result, throwing himself into danger became second nature to him. These days, the mere mention of collaborating with him on a project was enough to send everyone in his department running for the hills.

He wagered his life, hoping for a breakdown in the machinery. Yet, each and every single one of his attempts was thwarted, ending in spectacular failure. Try as he might, this was one battle he couldn't win, no matter what.

At that time, he still didn’t know.

The more he made attempts on his life, losingagain and again, the less he cared about everything.

In fact, all he could recall of the all-consuming, undying rage he felt that day was but a flicker of a dying candle now.

Those were the times.

If only he knew how lucky he was back then.

To be able to cry, to get angry, to bear grudges, to openly declare war against the heavens, to resent life, to long for death. They certainly weren't the brightest days, but at least he felt something.

Now, he was just another cog in the machine, existing solely to use and be used.

Most of the time, he couldn’t discern if he was happy or sad; a perpetual calm settled over his mind. This tranquility allowed him to view certain things clearly.

Looking back, the reason why he was granted such an indestructible shield was plain and simple.

Gaiathra Triclops, his oh-so-benevolent goddess, wanted him to save himself yet again.

The goddess of his clan, who granted salvation to only one man while condemning the rest to perish, wanted him to be the sole survivor once more.

✦✦⟡✦✦

After observing you, Aventurine had come to a single conclusion: you seemed so eager to lose your job.

“—SHUT UP—!! SHUT THE FUCK UP—!!”

“...Actually, I take it back. You’re no piece of shit. You, who extort money from orphans, are even less than that!”

Every taunt you directed at Billy burned with fiery resentment. He suspected that your long-held resentment had finally found its liberation today. As for why you decided to act out of lines now—of all times—he had a slight inkling.

The reason lay within the palm of your hand.

Amidst the shouting match, Aventurine saw you sneakily retrieve both the collar pin and the emerald. By then, he had already pieced everything together.

Didn’t everyone get reckless the moment they landed riches? Especially a downtrodden waiter, who’d had to suffer because of a problematic customer for a long time. He could see why you’d quit your job in a heartbeat with a secured nest egg.

Hence, he accepted being used by you.

After some time, it became obvious to him that you were deliberately drawing attention this way. All you had been spitting out were nothing but provocations, fanning the flames.

For what purpose? Who knows.

He couldn’t really complain now, considering that was exactly what he did himself. In a way, it was like a joint crime—a win-win. He got what he came for and you left with a hefty sum.

That’s why, isn’t that enough?

“You, who extort money from orphans, are even less than that!"

You shot back at Billy Burnett, who in turn narrowed his eyes, grinning maliciously.

Aventurine knew exactly what it meant: that man had set his sights on you. You, once just an insignificant waiter, had become a target—a prey. And once a man like Billy targeted someone, he’d be hellbent on ruining their life, stopping at nothing.

Aventurine tightened his grip around his half-empty drink.

“...Well, don’tcha just say a bunch of interesting things? Seriously, who put you up to this? Your manager is which bastard?”

“No one.”

Was it your conscience that made you stand up for your abused co-workers?

Why?

Then, from Billy’s mouth, came the fates of those he had ruined.

“So, an outsider? Who was it?! Was it that bitch from the pub?! Need I remind her that I know which kindergarten her kid goes to?!”

“...”

“I know! It’s that old coot who lives under the bridge! I should’ve broken her other leg as well!”

“...”

“It’s the fisherman—”

“Aren't you basically admitting to your crime? Aren't you afraid someone will report you to the police?”

“The police?! Pfft, ahaha! Do you see me getting arrested!? They work for me! I’m the law! I’m absolute!”

The crowd was in an uproar over the revelation, yet all he focused on was your hand—how tightly it clutched the jewels he had given you, as if offering a prayer. At a glance, he could see how terrified you were. Nevertheless, instead of running away, you stood your ground.

...Why?

Did striking it rich make you overconfident, thinking you were invincible?

Then again, he had expected this. That was why he gave you those fine jewels in the first place—so you'd reveal your true self, which was exactly what you did.

From the moment he let you go, he had decided to sit back and enjoy the show. At least, that was what he usually did—especially when watching someone eagerly seeking troubles.

So, why?

The entire time he watched you, he felt a mix of emotions—neither of which were happiness or joy.

When he thought about what you were going to say next, a strange unease welled up within him. Not even when he stood at the precipice of life and death had he felt this way.

Then it hit him—it was fear. But him? Afraid?

At the same time, a different emotion clamored within him, about to break loose.

Why do you keep saying things that will land you in deep water?

Even when Billy called you all sorts of names, you didn’t say a single word in your defense. And yet, when it came to those people who’d fallen victims—to him...

“There. Is. Nothing. That. Isn’t. Good. About. Him!!! Where do I even begin?!”

“Why the hell are you laughing?!”

Billy’s scream snapped him out of his reverie, just in time for him to see your lips curl into a smile.

“Because I’m happy.”

There was neither arrogance from landing a fortune, nor satisfaction from putting someone in their place—only pure happiness from having risked it all, regardless of the result.

Why... did his chest ache so much?

At the same time, your words flashed across his mind.

“—SHOW THEM!! SHOW THEM WHAT YOU GOT!! DON’T LOSE!!”

The words you’d screamed at the top of your lungs.

“...Hic, your eyes, they are, hic... so pretty.”

The words you’d drunkenly spun.

“But so what—?! So what if he killed his master?! I’d have done the same!!”

The words you’d uttered amidst your tears.

“—He has the most mesmerizing, luxurious blond hair that glimmers like spun gold in the sunlight. I mean, it’s not just blond, it’s practically ethereal! I can only imagine how soft and silky it must feel to touch! Don’t get me started on those eyes! His eyes are a stunning blend of violet and cyan, like a breathtaking sunset blending into—...”

...And then, that heartfelt, fiery confession.

Were they the cause?

To him, words—even those laced with Truth Serum—were, in the end, just that: words. The most unreliable thing in existence.

However, before he could figure out why, he saw your smile deepen, laced with taunting defiance. He had nothing but bad feelings about that.

“What’s there to be happy about?! You’re fucking dead meat after this!”

“Oh, wouldn’t you want to know?”

“Shut it, mouthy bitch! Just admit you’re scared!”

“...Scared? Of a guy bragging about his crimes like they're some kind of heroic deeds?”

Sure enough, you upped the ante, boldly ridiculing Billy.

“I’m embarrassed for you!!”

Aventurine watched the exchange, chewing the inside of his cheek until the lingering sweetness of his drink gave way to a salty, metallic taste of rust.

"—If I were you, I’d die from sheer fucking shame!”

This better be part of your plan, because at this point, you were just signing your own death warrant.

“YOU—!!”

To no one’s surprise, Billy exploded, throwing a punch straight at your face.

Meanwhile, you simply stood there, doing nothing.

Someone’s foolishness wasn’t his responsibility. Besides, if things went awry, his sidekick would be there to save the day. There was no need for him to do anything.

Yet, despite knowing that, he found himself reaching for you, letting go of the glass in his hand.

“Huh?”

As he grabbed your right arm, you stared at him in disbelief, as if he’d interrupted something.

That look on your face told him everything he needed to know—you had planned to get hit from the start.

Realizing this, something inside him snapped.

He pulled you, letting you fall against the red sofa before pinning you beneath him. With that, he’d graciously ignore the wise old adage, “Never turn your back on your enemy.”

A deafening bang rang out, followed by glass shattering. Fueled with rage, Billy had swung his fist with all his might. And yet, even with his back exposed, Aventurine remained unscathed—a testament to his luck.

His surroundings were in chaos, yet nothing could rival the whirlwind of thoughts in his head. From an outsider's perspective, Aventurine appeared very calm, but in truth, he was losing it.

And the reason was none other than the masked girl beneath him.

Why didn’t you run?

Why are you just standing there?

Besides watching you, becoming acutely aware of the curves and softness of your body with every subtle movement, he didn’t know what else to do. After all, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this angry.

He wasn't bulky; his physique was lean and evenly toned. Nevertheless, compared to him, you were smaller and more delicate.

To still challenge someone like Billy despite that...

You shifted beneath him, still stubbornly closing your eyes. Seeing that, something inside him seemed to settle, despite you being the very reason for his anger in the first place.

But then, his gaze flicked to your right hand, held tightly by him. The sight of your tightly clenched fist reignited his fury—just in time for your eyes to flutter open.

You stared at him, dumbfounded, before struggling to break free. He didn’t even exert much force, yet you couldn’t resist. And somehow, you thought you could withstand a punch from a street thug like Billy.

Realizing it was useless, panic and nervousness began to creep onto your face.

Even though it took everything in him not to lash out, seeing your fearful expression was all it took for him to let it go.

...Silly girl.

He let out a wry laugh instead, sighing inwardly.

Well, hopefully you’ve learned your lesson.

Still, there was one thing he couldn’t let go.

“Someone’s clearly been working hard to earn those gems.”

His gaze fell on your right hand again, where the emerald and sapphire collar pin were hidden. Until the very end, you clung to them for dear life, disregarding your own in the process.

Perhaps you thought that no matter how badly Billy rearranged your face or broke your bones, a few trips to the hospital would fix it all without issue. After all, the fortune you'd stumbled upon was no small amount. Except, it could very well lead to your death.

“Just a reminder, no amount of wealth can reverse death.”

Coming from someone who risked his life as often as he breathed, it must’ve been rich.

“Die...”

Just then, Aventurine heard something, but he didn’t bother turning around. A beast who missed its first attack would naturally go berserk.

In the split second that followed, Aventurine was made to turn around as an immensely powerful force tugged at him. Before he knew it, he was falling, with you on top of him.

“Aventurine—! Watch out—!”

He didn’t know how you managed to push him down.

Then, he witnessed Billy lifted the table, which was supposed to be nailed to the floor, with his bare hands. The 50kg metal table barely seemed to weigh anything as the large man hurled it effortlessly.

Meanwhile, you positioned yourself above him, ready to bear the full brunt of the attack.

Aventurine trusted nothing, least of all words. Words were easy; anyone could say anything and do absolutely nothing. So, he’d rely on adversity to reveal one’s true color instead.

During hard times, especially when someone's life was on the line, there was no room for lies. The first action a person took revealed everything about them.

Seeing the metal table crash down, knowing you'd be lucky if you only suffered broken bones, you chose to shield him instead.

As he saw the table inching closer, it felt as if time had slowed down. It was far too late to dodge, let alone escape, but he’d remain safe—at your expense.

When it dawned on him that his accursed luck was at play again, his heart almost flew out. He rushed to wrap his arm around you—tightly, desperately.

Belatedly, he realized that it was fear he was feeling.

Then, with the desperation of a dying man grasping at straws, he extended his other hand forward.

He could conjure most of his skills without chanting, yet he didn’t want to risk this one.

Channeling all his power, he uttered the name of the shield he never used, to the point where it almost slipped his mind.

“Fortified Wager.”

From beyond his reach, dazzling golden light expanded rapidly, enveloping his surroundings like the rising sun.

“WHAT?!” Billy screamed in bewilderment.

His aureate shield appeared just in time for the table to collide with it.

There was an ear-splitting bang, followed by the loud crash of something shattering into pieces.

After the dust had settled, his gleaming golden shield was the last one standing.

Naturally, his resentment and bitterness toward the shield wouldn't magically disappear.

Yet, knowing it was the only reason you stayed safe, he felt a twinge of gratitude.

╚══════╝

🄾🄽🅆🄰🅁🄳 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ １２】

A/N: As Aventurine's girlies, don't we all want to be protected by his shield :)))) Honestly, ever since he was announced to be a tank, I was hoping to see him use his shield to protect us in cutscenes... but I never see him use it anywhere!!! >:O (except in mah own team)

[sirenwriter]

Aventurine 🎰🎲♠

Warning : public,fingering, passive possessive aventurine etc

 Hidden sex🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

Aah~ A gambler who would definitely have risky sex. Of course he wouldn't take you for a joyride just anywhere or anytime. He takes his sweet time 'teasing' you up whether it's through fingering your cunt discreetly or whispering sweet dirty nothings that will make your thighs slick with your love juices. Once he runs out of patience, both of you will end up in a discrete area, him lapping your pussy desperately,edging you, until he finally fills your pussy after several orgasm denials…

 Begging 🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

If you weren't drunk on the way his fingers are digging into your cunt, you would definitely see how his eyes would be clouded with hunger…. EVERYTIME you beg with your sweet voice, whispering to him to make you cum,he is losing his rationality…EVERY clench of your cunt , EVERY silent moan and EVERY word from your soft wet lips begging for release is making him want to bend you over the table and fuck you in front of all the people. Make them know how much you cum from his cock, making sure all the leeches who were leering at you know that he is yours and only he will take that spot in your heart.

But showing his love to you in public can wait for next time….

  Edging🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

Aventurine is a man who takes pleasure in keeping you on edge literally and figuratively….you can be having a toy inside your hole and the next moment you are cross legged,desperately trying to quiet your whimpers and hide your flushed face from people at the casino.

'High.low.high.low' you could feel the vibrator going at unpredictable speed…. His head resting casually on your shoulder…. Occasionally giving you pecks on your lips & neck and staring back at the men who were staring for way too long with an angry smirk.

‘Eyes.off.of.my.woman’.

My first fics 💕🎉🎊

I hope you liked it a lot i really would appreciate tips to improve and requests for your favourite character.

*Also don't steal my works please i put my soul into it.

~with love

Siren🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐