#Gambling Den Desire

[fuckyeahmeikokaji]

Meiko Kaji (梶芽衣子) in Gambling Den Desire (鉄火場慕情), 1970, directed by Keiichi Ozawa (小沢啓一).

Scanned by me.

[yinyuedijun]

translation

Aventurine doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you. (Or: You are the only person in the universe who understands Aventurine in his mother tongue. He often regrets teaching it to you.)

5k words. gender neutral reader, established relationship, angst, non-graphic sex (reader bottoms, anatomy neutral), themes of cultural loss, references to slavery, aventurine’s canonically implied desire to die. MDNI.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

Deception does not come easily to him in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak—and too kind. The universe was a different place in the days when his life was coloured by the warble of Avgin dialect. It felt simpler, partly because he was a child and partly because Sigonia was yet untouched by outsiders. There were no corporations, no casinos, no commodity codes. His entire world was sand, desert, mother, sister, father (or more often—ghost), goddess, tent, wagon, luck, sin, rain, blessing, Avgin.

Katican.

Aventurine is sure that he knew more than just those words. He was fluent as a child. He had conversations with his sister that were complex enough to make his heart hurt, though perhaps his heart was just constantly aching anyway. But the rest of his early words escapes him. He could maybe dredge them up if he thinks long enough, but he also isn't sure if his tongue and lips could form the shape of them anymore. Sometimes he still counts in Avgin, memorises phone numbers in it, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually strung together a full sentence in the language.

When Aventurine was first stolen into slavery (a word that he had not known as a child, and still doesn't know in Avgin), he wasn’t given a Synesthesia Beacon. He had to rely on his ears and his wits, deciphering the harsh edges of the Katican dialect and then the strange garble of Interastral Standard Language. By the time he had a Beacon installed, it was already translating all speech into Standard—his dominant language.

Sometimes he feels a little aggrieved by it, but at least it wasn't Katican. He'd have blown out his brains if it were.

But it is easy to console himself: Avgin is not a useful language anyway. Dead languages have no value, and the Avgin dialect was killed along with its people. You can’t perform commerce in a dead language, can't negotiate contracts, can't enter a gambling den and use your silver tongue to rob people blind. You can't use a dead language to fell governments and extract resources; you can't use a dead language to bring an entire planet to its knees. You can’t use a dead language to gamble your life; you can't use it to save yourself from the gallows.

You cannot deceive people in a language that is defined by sand, sister, goddess, ghost.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin. His command of it is too weak, and there is no one left to which he can lie, anyway.

When you ask Aventurine to teach you his first language, he gives you an amused look.

“Why Avgin?” he asks. “No one speaks it anymore. I can teach you Common Sigonian if you’d like. Or we could learn Xianzhounese together. Maybe Intellitron code? I know a little.”

“You speak Avgin,” you argue.

“Not often,” he says. “And badly when I do.”

“But it's still your language. And I want to understand you.”

Aventurine has to stop himself from laughing. Understand him? He hates being understood. When people understand him, it makes him predictable. And unlikeable. Hardly a position from which he can manipulate people in.

You understand him well enough to know that.

“You'll have to give me a better reason than that,” he says neatly. “Make it worth my while. Reward me.”

You look at him as you ponder, your eyes lingering on his. Perhaps trying to read him, though he prefers to think you're just enjoying the sight of them.

“I’ll teach you my language as well?”

“You mean—you'll reward my hard labour with more work?” he says, lighthearted.

You frown at him despite the joke. “You don't want to understand me better than what a Synesthesia Beacon would allow?” He blinks, pausing. “It’ll be convenient too. We can talk shit about other people in public and no one will understand us.”

Aventurine considers you. He doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you.

He also likes the idea of talking shit in public.

“I'm listening,” he says, voice lilting. You lean in, smiling. Sweet. It makes his heart feel something he isn't used to. Something addictive. Something disgusting. He scrambles to cover it with one of the usual tools: humour or distraction or maybe just plain old lying—his most reliable weapon.

“I'll throw in a kiss?” you try.

He hums. “Just one?”

“One per day.”

“Three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Well, I am a businessman.”

You snort, but he knows you're endeared. You have very noticeable tells when you’re flustered.

“Okay,” you say. “Three kisses on days you teach me.”

“Deal.”

Aventurine remembers more Avgin than he thought he would.

It comes to him slowly, painstakingly. You aren't interested in structured lessons, and he wouldn't be able to provide them anyway. He has a nonexistent grasp of grammar aside from this sounds right and that sounds strange, and Avgin dialect is both so niche and so dead that no textbooks are available. The scholars have abandoned the language as much as the politicians abandoned its people. Aventurine only has you, his fragmented memory, and whatever questions come to mind as you live out your days with him.

Mostly, you ask him about basic vocabulary. Sometimes you ask him to repeat sentences from your conversations in Avgin, like he’s some kind of multilingual parrot. Each prompt forces him to wade through the fog in his mind, the one that’s been shrouding his childhood memories until now. He's startled at how naturally the old words roll off his tongue: One, two, three, four. Good morning. Good evening. Good night. Sweet dreams. Five, six, seven, eight. You're lying to me. Why do you always lie to me? I don't know what you're talking about. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Welcome home. Have you eaten? Have some bread. I made you stew. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. That was dangerous. I thought you wouldn't make it back to me. Sometimes I think you want to die. One hundred, one thousand, one million, one billion. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

When you say, How do I ask you to let me hold you, he answers easily. He'd heard the words so often as a child: Let me hold you, Kakavasha. Let Mama hold you. His mouth forms the sounds without conscious thought.

He regrets it almost immediately.

When Aventurine hears it from you—stilted, halting, but no less gentle—he stops breathing. Let me hold you. You say it all the time in Standard, but it feels different in Avgin. More painful. A strange sense of panic closes in on him when he's wrapped up in you, thinking in Avgin, thinking sand, sister, goddess, ghost. He holds you tightly, like the rags cut from his father’s shirt, or his mother’s locket won back from the shell-slashers, or a bag of poker chips beneath a card table, clutched within his trembling grip.

“Aventurine, is something wrong?” you ask in Avgin, and he replies in Standard with his usual smile.

“Hm? No. What could be wrong if I have you here?”

Lying is one of his greatest tools. Sex is another one. So he says, “I think I'd like my reward now,” and he runs his lips along your jaw, your pulse, the spot over your heart (there's a word for that in Avgin but not Standard, he tells you), until you're laughing. I thought you wanted three kisses, you tease, and he replies, Who said I wanted to kiss you on the mouth?

But he coaxes open your thighs, and once he's inside you, he collects his payment properly. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and you swallow his lies whole.

There are some things that Aventurine doesn't teach you. Mostly, they’re things that he can’t teach you.

There are countless gaps in his Avgin. His speech is painfully childish—probably more childish than it was when he actually stopped speaking it. He doesn't know how to swear (something that disappoints you) and he doesn't know how to flirt (something that devastates you). He doesn’t know any words that would be useful for work either: commercialization, governance, stakes, winnings, profit. When you ask him what his job title is in Avgin (“Was senior management even a thing in Avgin society?”), he laughs and gives you the word for gambler.

Then there are the words that he remembers—has remembered his whole life—but never says. Not to you, and not to himself. He doesn't teach you any prayers. He doesn't teach you any blessings. He doesn't teach you about Mama Fenge, or the Kakava Festival, or how the rain fell when he was born. When you ask him, What holidays did you celebrate when you were little? he shrugs and says, We didn't have any. Sigonia’s too bleak to do any partying.

Then you ask him one day, while your bodies are spent in the afterglow of sex, sticky with sweat and sweetness, how to say I love you. And he goes quiet.

Love is a cheap word in Interastral Standard. In the language of globalisation and trade, love has been commercialised, commodified, capitalised for power. You say it to him in many contexts: I love this, I love that, I love you. He hardly ever reacts, and he's never said it back. It would feel unnecessary and also cruel if he did: Aventurine has only ever said the words himself as either a joke or a manipulation.

But love feels different in Avgin than in Interastral Standard, doesn't sound like a thing that can be traded or bought. Kakavasha only ever said the word love to his mother, to his sister, to his father's grave. Love in his mother tongue feels priceless.

When Aventurine thinks about you saying it—I love you, Kakavasha, in clumsy, earnest Avgin—something so painful swells in his throat that he can hardly breathe.

“There is no word for love in my language,” he tells you.

You blink. “Okay, then what's an idiom for it?”

“There is none. There’s no word or phrase expressing love.”

You raise a brow. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Is it?” He smiles. “There’s no Avgin in the known universe who cares about love. Only scheming, thieving, and treachery—and you can't do those things when love is involved.”

You look at him in alarm. “Why are you saying that?” You're practically squirming in your discomfort. “I don't know why you think I'd believe such a racist stereotype.”

“It’s not a stereotype,” he says. “I'm not talking about the Avgin culture. I'm talking about myself.”

After all, he is the only Avgin left.

It is an unfair thing to say. A cruel thing to say. After all the laughing and kissing and crying and fucking, after all the tender eyes and gentle words from you—it is probably the worst pain imaginable: I don't give a shit about you. He waits for you to cry.

But you only stare at him calmly, studying him. You brush the hair out of his eyes, seeing them clearly.

“If you lie to me all the time,” you say in Avgin, “eventually I'll stop believing anything you say.”

Aventurine is speechless. His heart does that addictive, disgusting thing again. He thinks about leaving, but then you say, Let me hold you, and he can't do anything other than obey.

Avgin dialect was once included in the Synesthesia Beacon list of functions. The Intelligentsia Guild added it before the Second Katica-Avgin Extinction Event, when the IPC was trying to get a political foothold on Sigonia via the Avgin people. The language was alive then, with enough value to be included into the Synesthesia LLM by the linguists.

But since the Extinction Event—since Kakavasha ran away from home—the Synesthesia data on Avgin has been stagnant, a fossil. Aventurine knows because he's subscribed to software updates for certain languages (Avgin Sigonian, Common Sigonian, Interastral Standard, and now your mother tongue). He gets pinged every time there's a new addition for slang, for neologisms—but there hasn't been a ping for the Avgin dialect since he had the Beacon installed. The live translation function hasn't even been available since the previous Amber Era. When he checks its page on his Synesthesia app, it's very clear why—

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 0 STATUS: Extinct END OF SERVICE: 2156 AE

The complete death of the language has led to an irritating dilemma for you and Aventurine. You keep running into words that he doesn't know—this time not because of his childlike speech, but because they never existed in his language to begin with. Ocean, tropical, rainforest. Starskiff, accelerator, space fleet. Stock market, shortselling, mutual funds. Black hole, event horizon, spaghettification. All things that never came up for Kakavasha, but now come up for Aventurine, and the language has not evolved to include it.

He always wants to switch to Standard to discuss these things, but you're insistent on speaking in Avgin as much as possible. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't mind humouring you—partly because he likes to indulge you, and partly because he’s grown used to hearing the honeyed timbre of Avgin dialect in your household. The place would feel strange without it.

So you start filling the gaps with other languages, filtering them through the lyricism of Avgin. Loanwords, he thinks they’re called. You take ocean, tropical, rainforest from Amazian; starskiff, accelerator, space fleet from Xianzhounese; stock market, shortselling, mutual funds from Interastral Standard. For the astrophysics terms, you try directly translating them—with limited success.

“Can't I literally just say ‘black hole’?” you ask in Avgin, and he nearly spits out his coffee.

“Please don't. That's a dirty word.” He can't bring himself to say what it means, but from the way you’re laughing, you can clearly guess.

“I thought you said you didn't know how to swear.”

“You've just reminded me how.”

“You're welcome.” You look on the verge of cackling. Aventurine finishes his coffee and wonders when you're going to surprise him with your newfound vulgarity.

“Let's just do the space terms based on Standard,” he says. Begs.

“No, that's so boring.”

“Then let's do your language.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Give him a blank look.

“You don't know how to say those words in your mother tongue either, do you,” he intuits.

“Well, ‘spaghettification’ doesn't really come up in everyday conversation, does it?”

“Then maybe we don't need it.” He smiles, senses an opportunity. Smells blood. “How about ‘love’? I'd much rather know how you say that. I bet it sounds beautiful.”

You give him a long look. Your eyes are vulnerable when you share it: Love. I love you. He’s fascinated by the sound of it. Your voice is never that fragile when you say it in Standard. It's never so earnest. He repeats it, staring at you, and your gaze falls to the ground. His mouth curls.

“I like it,” he says. “Let's use that. It'll sound nice in Avgin.”

You try to recover. “Sure. That works. But back to ‘black hole’—”

And the two of you continue like that for days, weeks, months. It feels like a complete bastardization of his mother tongue on some days, in some conversations. Almost unrecognisable. But it doesn't feel bad. It’s all he has, it's all you have, and when he walks into your home, he starts speaking it without thinking: your bastard, patchwork language. The Avgin dialect that exists only in your house. A tongue that can only be understood by a liar.

And then, one lazy Sunday morning, he gets a familiar ping. He expects it to be Interastral Standard, as usual. The language balloons with each planet that the IPC colonises.

But instead, he opens his screen and freezes.

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 2 STATUS: Endangered. SERVICE RESUMED: 2157 AE NEW UPDATES: 103 loanwords and 5 neologisms added.

He can't stop looking at the status. Endangered. Endangered, which means dying, but alive. The Avgin dialect is alive again. The Intelligentsia Guild determined it, so it must be true. But Aventurine can't agree: there are no Avgin speakers in the known universe other than the two of you, and what you speak isn't real Avgin. The Avgin spoken by his mother and father and sister is dead; the Avgin spoken by Kakavasha is dead. The festivals are gone; the deserts have been terraformed. There are no wagons; there are no dances; there are no prayers. There are no blessings, and he has no home—

As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.

His throat locks up.

“Aventurine?” you ask. Your voice is drowsy, but concerned. “Is something wrong?”

He looks at you from his phone, a polished smile on his face.

“No.” His syllables are plain and efficient in the noise of Interastral Standard: “Just looking at details for a new assignment. It’ll be a long one.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Will you be away from home for a long time, then?”

He stops himself from swallowing. “Yes, I'll be away from the house. For several months, probably.”

“Okay.” Your voice is small. “Take care of yourself, okay? I'll miss you.”

Each word you speak resonates with heartbreak. It always does in these conversations, even in Standard—but the sorrow is amplified in Avgin. His mother tongue has an inherently sad quality to it, he's noticed. His people have lost so much over their history—their language is one of loss. It's his language of loss. Kakavasha did all his grieving in Avgin; Aventurine has never felt sorrow in Standard. When the language died, so did Kakavasha—and all his regrets with it.

“You'll come home to me, right?” you ask. It's a beautiful sentence in Avgin. A heartrending one. He feels something that he hasn't known since he was a child.

It's a feeling he has to kill.

“Yes,” he says in Standard. “Of course I'll come back.”

This is not the first time that Aventurine has been mistaken for dead, but this is the longest time.

The latest world to join the IPC network was a tough acquisition. It had been ruled by a despot who wreaked havoc on both the people and the planet, and who was too stupid and reckless to resolve conflicts with his trade partners. He probably would have blown up the whole star system had he been left to his own devices. Aventurine had no qualms about bringing him to ruin, nor did he have qualms about nearly dying in the process.

If things had gone his way, he'd either be dead or missing. This would have been the perfect opportunity to do the latter, actually—to be freed from the IPC. Free to drift alone, speaking with strangers in strange, unfamiliar tongues. No connection to his past, to the cruel history of his luck, to his commodity code. No tether to his inherently unjust destiny. But instead he's back in your house, pockets heavy with his borrowed wealth, speaking to you in his bastardised, childish Avgin. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Your Avgin is—shockingly fluent. He doesn't know how. He can't think about it right now. All he can process is the wounded animal noise of your speech as you yell at him, as you cry. Like an injured songbird, or a weeping child. Why did you leave, why did you lie, why do you always lie to me, why don't you give a shit about me, you spit. Why do you want to die, why do you want to die, why do you want to die, you keep saying. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost, he keeps hearing. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost. Don't leave me, big sister. People will die. Why do you have to go?

“I’m sorry,” he tries again, this time in your language. “I'm so sorry. Come here. Let me hold you.”

You collapse into your mother tongue. Aventurine is both relieved and horrified. Relieved that he doesn't need to hear the language of his grief—horrified that he needs to hear yours. He's never heard you cry like this. He's never heard you break like this. These must have been the words you used when the soldiers found you hiding in your closet, when they dragged you out of your home. You were just a child.

Aventurine doesn't know the words you are using—you've never taught them—but he still understands them.

You're very malleable when you’re sad; even more so when you're hysterical. Aventurine understands this about you, and he understands how to calm you—this time in your native tongue—and he understands how to kiss you. He understands that you need to feel close to him. He understands that there are ways to accomplish this other than sex. A normal person would talk it out, have an honest conversation, come to a mutual understanding, and maybe even stop trying to kill himself. They wouldn't fuck you into the mattress while your face is still wet with tears.

But Aventurine is not a normal person. He doesn't know how to have an honest conversation, and he doesn't want to be understood. Lying is his greatest weapon, and sex is a close second. So he kisses you until you’re too breathless to cry, fucks you until you can't think, and makes you come so hard that you’re in too much bliss to grieve. And maybe it's horrible of him, but he enjoys it. He enjoys the way your body takes him in so easily, the way your nails dig into his back, the way you tighten around him when you climax, so wet and needy for him. The way you beg for him in your language for liars as he spends himself inside you: I love you, Aventurine, I love you, I love you, I love you—

Only because it feels good. This is all only because he enjoys fucking you. This is all only because you enjoy fucking him. This is all it'll ever be, and it'll be this way until he gets to meet his end.

(Some months ago, Aventurine started dreaming in Avgin.

It surprised him when he first noticed it. The last time he remembers having a dream in his native tongue, he was twelve years old and still in chains. And even then, it had become a sporadic, strange thing. Awful to wake up from. One minute he was with his mother and sister on a cool, rainy day, speaking fluently in Avgin as he laughed and played—and the next minute, he was being shaken awake in his cage, hearing the cruel lash of Katican.

But ever since he's started speaking Avgin with you, he's been dreaming in it. Vividly. Sometimes he's a child in these dreams, and sometimes he's grown. He's always back in the Sigonian desert, among the tents and the campfires and his family wagons. His mother and sister are alive. Sometimes his father is too. The skies roar with thunder and the stellar winds are always harsh, but they always keep him cocooned up in their arms. He's always warm.

Sometimes Aventurine dreams of nicer days. Clear skies, warm sun, cool breeze—all blessings from the Mother Goddess. On these days, he tends to be an adult, and you tend to be there with him. Your Avgin is fluent but strange, filled with funny loanwords and peculiar slang. His father likes the neologisms and starts using them—but only in wrong ways. His sister finds it embarrassing and keeps apologising to you.

His mother loves you. She loves you so much it hurts. This is how I know you're blessed, Kakavasha, she says, glowing. You’re so lucky to have found such a kind person.

Kakavasha knows this. He knows he's lucky, and in his dreams, that isn't a bad thing. In his dreams, his luck means that his home is not violently excised from his heart: his father never dies; his mother never dies; his sister never dies. The tents are not burned; the wagons are not destroyed. He is never forced to forget his people's dishes, their songs, their language, their joy. And in his dreams, his luck means that he meets you anyway, without all the loss and the chains and the lying.

In his dreams, he is able to bring you to the desert. He is able to teach you the Avgin he spoke as a child, to cook all the meals his mother used to make, to share with you their coffee and their tea. He teaches you prayers. He teaches you blessings. He tells you about Mama Fenge, about how the rain fell when he was born. He takes you to the Kakava Festival, shows you how to dance, sings to you all the Avgin songs until you're singing back. He presses his palm to yours in prayer; he kisses you in devotion, not avoidance.

Sometimes the two of you still fight, the same fights that you have in real life, but he handles them with honesty. He listens to you. He apologises to you. He tells you that he’ll change, and he means it—because this world is a kind one, and he has no need to be so cruel to you.

In this kind world, when you lay in bed with his arms tight around you, you smile at him and say, I love you, Kakavasha. You say it in Avgin—real Avgin, not the dialect born from genocide and deceit—and when he responds, there's not even a little bit of insincerity in his voice. Because Kakavasha never became Aventurine in these dreams, so he has no Interastral Standard in which he can lie to you, no silver tongue with which he can manipulate you, no commodity code that inspires his fear of being controlled by you. Kakavasha only knows Avgin, and he only has his sand, his family, his goddess, his home.

And he has you. Finally, he has you.

He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and then he tells you the truth.)

.

.

.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

You noticed this very early on: whenever he lies to you, he always switches to Interastral Standard. Probably he wouldn't be able to do it in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak, and the words he knows are all too kind. He speaks with the innocence of a child, and children cannot deceive people in the way that adults can. Children cannot perform commerce or negotiate contracts. They cannot use a silver tongue to rob people blind. They cannot save themselves from the gallows.

So Aventurine’s Avgin is defenceless. Vulnerable. So vulnerable it hurts. You are not so vulnerable in your first language because your captors spoke it on occasion, and you learned to lie in it to gain their pity. You told Aventurine that knowing it would help him understand you, but this was a deception. Aventurine’s mother tongue was a language of trust, but yours is a dialect of abuse.

The Avgin language died before Aventurine could be gutted by it; this is why it disarms him so completely. This is why he’s so indulgent and so warm when you use it with him, why he yields to all your requests. Not requests for money or gifts—you’re certain those are meaningless to him—but for affection. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. Let me kiss you. He can never say no.

This is also why he loves hearing you speak his mother tongue, you think—it makes him feel at home, it makes him feel safe. Maybe it even makes him feel loved. He never seems so at peace speaking any other language, so you try to use Avgin as much as possible. You like seeing him happy. You like it even if it means you need to teach him your own native language in exchange, even when it means you need to hear him say all the things your captors used to say. You don't mind it if it's him. You never mind the harm he inflicts on you, especially not when it brings you closer to him.

It is convenient that he cannot lie in Avgin. You only wanted to learn it in the first place because he talks in his sleep—mostly in Standard, but sometimes in his native tongue. And now that you know he cannot lie in Avgin, you also know he's always being honest in his dreams. Honest when he throws his arms around you in his sleep. Honest when he grabs you so tightly that you bruise. Honest when he buries his face into your neck and whispers prayers into your skin.

Most of the words he says are common ones, the earliest vocabulary that he taught you. But there are some things he's withheld from you—and to learn those things, you had to track down linguists from the Intelligentsia Guild, bribe them with your dirty money, have them give you all their deprecated, extinct data. It felt two-faced, and it was violating, but it was the only way. You already know that Aventurine would rather die than translate his feelings for you, would never want this part of himself understood.

I'm sorry for always leaving you.

I'm sorry for making you cry.

I can't bear the thought of losing you.

Freedom would be too lonely without you.

I don't want to hurt you anymore.

I don't want to lie to you anymore.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

end

afterword

[biboomerangboi]

My friend was watching the show for the first time and they brought up a misconception that I think we see a lot in fandom. So I want to talk about The Gamblers Den and specifically this scene in particular:

My friend genuinely wondered what Hua Cheng would do and then when they heard his explanation they were even more confused:

They basically messaged me saying, wait Hua Cheng would have made the bet. He bets people’s lives and some how Xie Lian is okay with that. How???

And to anyone else who’s thinking the same thing or falling for the Demon King vibe Hua Cheng is trying to sell here I am here to tell you, you have all been duped.

What’s import to understand is that Ghost City actually came from making one of Xie Lian’s ideas work:

Xie Lian is talking about a specialised market here, a place where the common people couldn’t just stumble into without reason and that’s what Ghost City is and The Gambers Den is the foundation of it. While Xie Lian didn’t say hey go gamble, Hua Cheng is taking a risk and playing into his greatest strength and then showing of for his crush is the most dramatic way possible when talking about it.

For Hua Cheng the house always wins! Literally. Or at least what he wants the bet to be will always happen. His luck is just that good. If the gambler wins it’s genuinely because Hua Cheng let him.

In the Den he is acting as Judge and Jury with Xie Lian as his moral code but he can’t just turn down the deals. If he does then these people could go to less safe options (looking at you Qi Rong) to get what they desire which negates the reason he built Ghost City in the first place.

Hua Cheng has to let these people play by his rules if he wants to follow his Gods wishes. So he has to be creative and look at loop holes, phrasing and Xie Lians most important teaching finding the third path.

For this moment specifically giving the options I think Hua Cheng would have taken the 20 years of his daughter’s life. Why you may ask? Well the phrasing is easier to manipulate. While the eradication of his competitors is pretty well laid 20 years of his daughters life is pretty vague.

Option 1) Hua Cheng could take her away from her shit father and put her in an apprenticeship and marry a man of her choosing since her hand is now her own to decide since Hua Cheng doesn’t want it.

Option 2) She has to work in Ghost City for 20 years and is married to Yin Yu in name only (because Hua Cheng can’t have a wife at all or he won’t win Gege) then gets pleasantly divorced and giving a severance payment after 20 years.

Option 3) He could decide life is a vague term and after she dies she has to spend 20 years in Ghost City and matchmake a future marriage between her and another ghost.

Option 4) He could decide what she has to do with the next twenty years of her life which could include an actual good marriage and education. Where she has to worship his shrine and be only his devotee for 20 years.

Option 5) He can literally say I’ll collect when I decide and never cash in.

He can do anything because the wording is so fluent and for Hua Cheng debater and Civil God Killer it’s probably easy. He’s not a demon king, he’s a crafty trickster spirit basically a fae lord.

He’s playing the system and he’s winning that’s what Xie Lian figured out and why he supports it. He knows Hua Cheng well enough even back then to trust that he would make the right decision because he believes in Hua Cheng and he’s right too.

[sisislair]

Thoughts on the importance of ghost city arc to building up Hualian's relationship.

Hua Cheng showing Xie Lian his true form as promised. Xie Lian getting to see him in his role as ruler of the ghost city, and not casting any judgement on it. He already trusts Hua Cheng enough to wholey believe he won't let things get out of hand in the gambling den.

God the gambling cup scene. What can I even say? The tenderness, the obvious teasing in this moment of intense intimacy. The shared bun. How obviously he dotes on him from the very beginning.

And it's not like Xie Lian trusts him blindly! He is very aware that Hua Cheng could very well be behind the missing official giving the timing. He just doesn't believe that Hua Cheng goes around killing or kidnapping people willy nilly. So when the waning moon officer is acting suspicious, he gladly latches onto another possible explanation for what's going on, but he doesn't fully dismiss his suspicions.

Trust but verify.

I always love reading Xie Lian's introduction to paradise manor, because it is so blindingly obvious that Hua Cheng is trying to court him. But he still leaves enough room for interpretation that if Xie Lian doesn't want this, he can pass it off as a joke. Just being in his presence, being able to feed him and offer shelter is enough for him.

And luckily for him it is working! Xie Lian is a bit overwhelmed at times by how much Hua Cheng gives him, but you can also tell that he deeply cherishes it.

And he is so excited about the armory! Hua Cheng set this up specifically for him, and the only reward he desires is getting to see Xie Lian's reaction to it. To see Xie Lian get to express himself in genuine happiness, to share love in an interest that they both have, truly I think that is the happiest both of them have been in a long time.

Of course the time that Xie Lian spends with him as San lang in book 1 is important! It's vital for establishing their initial rapport with each other, as well as the beginnings of trust. But it is under false identity. Ghost city allows both of them to interact for the first time both fully knowing who the other person is, and what that means for each of them.

They get to just bond and exist together for a bit during this arc, and that's very important to building up their relationship enough to see through some of the things ahead.

[simpxxstan]

i’ve just finished reading your wonwoo!fics from the 550 followers event and i decided i need to request something myself because they were just TOO GOOD

given that, i thought about police officer!wonwoo (or mingyu, i wouldn’t mind—) who’s like super handsome and hot and all but also super nice and helpful and loves cats and—

and maybe he’s living in the same neighbourhood as y/n and they just feel drawn towards each other? idk, i’m not really good at making up scenarios 😭😭

it can go both ways, starting fluffy and then get smutty or angsty, everything’s gonna be fine <3

all i know is that i need to read something from you again 🫶🏼🫶🏼

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! so firstly, I apologise if I disappoint you because instead of wonu, I did mingyu, because I had this wildest fantasy about him but I hope you like it still!! And I also added a few twists in the plot, because I wanted to spice it up a bit. I really pray you'll enjoy my version too!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here!

also, thank you to everyone who's interacted with the event <333 your enthusiasm is so so much appreciated! the event is still on till the end of this month so you can still send in requests, my inbox is open hehe :) also to those who have sent in requests, T_T i am SOR SORRY for making you wait but honestly i am trying my best :((( i will answer your request as soon as i can, thank you for your patience <3

genre: strangers to lovers, police and criminal au, smut, fluff, neighbours au

word count: 5k words

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT police officer!mingyu, discussions of illegal racing, gangs, criminals, criminal activities, gambling (but nothing is explicit except the racing activities). smut warnings: unprotected sex (please please do not do this irl), almost public sex, oral (m. receiving), making out, usage of pet names, size kink, mingyu's a perv for reader

It's been six months since Mingyu has shifted to this town, and he's not regretted it a single day. it's a wonderful, quaint little town, on the edge of the city, that's close enough to the hustle but far enough to not be a site for trouble. The people are lovely and they've really accepted him with a full heart- the old ladies who bring him their delicious cooked food during his lunch breaks, the young boys who follow his gym routine meticulously, the mothers who either shamelessly flirt with him or try to set up their children with him, the fathers who pat his back proudly after a long day of work, the children who run around his clean police station with curious eyes.

After his busy five years in his posting at the city, this feels like heaven to him. He had joined the force in his craving for adrenaline and his innate nature of being helpful to everyone had driven him deeper into the profession. But he's twenty-seven now, and maturity has dampened the fire within his soul, although not his desire for social peace and justice- hence his choice to shift here.

It's not a town renowned for crime, and most of his days are peaceful with minor reports of petty theft or pickpocketing. But Mingyu has his fair share of excitement- being on the outskirts of the city, the edges of the town are less tame than the heart of it. It's a den for many gangs- all linked by the illegal racing grounds outside the town. Mingyu doesn't have any way to reach the gangs- they're being pursued by the force in the bigger cities with far more resources than sanctioned to his police station. But he tries to ensure the gangs and their dirty business doesn't get into his town. And Mingyu has his hands full with it.

But being busy keeps Mingyu happy. He's loved by the townsfolk and he's found a kind of peace here, different and yet beautiful. It's a slow town, and he's fallen into a routine that's good for his slowing-down body and his slowing-down mind.

So it's been a long, long day of work and at the end of the week, he's tired and ready to fall into his bed after eating anything that's in the fridge. But when he's walking up the stairs of his apartment building, his eyes meet a scene that's out of routine.

"Hello? Can I help you?" Mingyu walks up quickly as he sees you struggle to pull up two suitcases up the stairs, along with the clearly heavy rucksack on your back. "No! Thanks, no, I'm fine." "Please allow me, I live right here on this floor." And Mingyu casually picks up the suitcases, with a smile on his face. He doesn't miss the ways your body relaxes instantly and your eyes light up. "Umm, I'm here on this floor too. Just moved in into 309." "And I'm in 311. Right across your flat!" "I'm so happy to meet a neighbour already. I'm Y/N." "And I'm Mingyu."

And Mingyu feels the exhaustion of the day wear out when he sees your whole smile- not a tight-lipped smile, but the one that shows your teeth and your dimples. Well, dimple. There's only one big dimple on your left cheek, and it's a beautiful smile that stays on Mingyu's mind long through the night after you disappear into your flat and Mingyu goes into his own.

_

Mingyu doesn't know why he's suddenly choosing to skip his daily gym routine in favour of a run through the town at 5.30 am (nearly an hour before he's ever woken up in his entire life). Maybe one day he wakes up at 5.30 to use the washroom but spots you leave the building in your jogging shorts and earplugs. He joins the dots and his body joins them too- safe to say, he couldn't sleep again that morning. And neither the morning after that, because he's determined to join you on your run.

You don't talk much except brief interactions, and your speed is much faster than him, but he doesn't mind the exhaustion. The wink you throw him every time he lags behind and the bottle of water you offer him right after you drink from it too is enough motivation for him to keep running. Of course it helps that you compliment the way his muscles strain through his tank top and Mingyu's chest blows up even further with pride.

And it's so subtle, but Mingyu feels you slowly open up more to him.

It's in the won't you come in for coffee? I make a mean iced coffee.

It's in the I was shopping for groceries and brought you cooking oil, since you were asking for it yesterday. I thought you may not have had the time to go for shopping, since you're so busy at work.

It's in the see this magnet? my baby cousin made it.

And Mingyu goes to you like a moth drawn to a flame. He's drawn to you when he decides to take you out (for a friendly afternoon outing, he calls it officially, but internally he's treating it as a date). He's drawn to you when you show him around the veterinary where you work. He's drawn to you when he sees you eating ice cream on his couch after he's cooked dinner for the two of you. He's drawn to you when you barely touch his arm and tell him that you really like all your neighbours and the entire community in the town is great, but you're especially glad to have found Mingyu because he's one of the only people here who's near your age. And he's drawn to you when you smile for him, that rich, dimpled smile, after he tells you that you're exactly the friend he's been looking for since he's come here.

After that, Mingyu doesn't know what happens in what order. Do you kiss him first? Or does he kiss you first? Do you climb into his lap? Or does he pull you onto him? Do you bite his lip when his hands wander down to your ass that he's been eyeing for weeks now on every morning run? Or does he bite your lip when your hands weave through his hair? It's a blur, and when you pull back for a breath, your lips swollen, the first button of your shirt open, and a hickey already blooming near your collarbone, Mingyu knows only one thing. How he wants. Wants you. Wants more. Wants now-

"Mingyu, I- I don't know how to say this... it's not like I didn't like this. And I- I- umm. Maybe I should leave? Because if I stay I won't be able to hold back and I want to think about this a little bit?"

And oh, your eyes are so wide and so pretty, and the skin of your arms feel like butter under his touch, but he lets you go. He lets you walk away, a shy smile on your lips. He lets you kiss him on his cheek once before disappearing into your own flat, and Mingyu shuts the door and takes deep breaths as he leans on his door.

He's ready to give you all the time in the world to think, but he's sure that he's already yours. He just knows at the end of it, he needs to make you his too.

_

"Hello, darling."

The tone on the other end is unmistakable, and Mingyu sighs. "Don't try to seduce me, love. It's not gonna work." He's said this before, but the message clearly hasn't gotten through. The honey voice drawls on in a painfully slow pace, "You're late tonight. What's up?" "I was busy," he huffs, his heart still beating fast from making out with you a few minutes ago.

"Busy? Unbelievable." "A police officer can't be busy? Is it so unfathomable?" "No. What's unfathomable is that Kim Mingyu is off his routine. I wonder if there's something new... or someone new?"

The voice laughs, and Mingyu knows it's friendly prodding. His relationship with the person on the other side of the line might be anything but friendly but it's yet again become a part of his routine, and at least the friendly banter breaks the monotony.

"Are you jealous that I talk to women apart from you?" Mingyu smirks, knowing two can play this game.

"I'm jealous that she's taking up my time. You have to show her what's her place, really."

"Don't be rude love. You know I've got my ears on your voice only. Now, tell me if you have any news."

"Oh, getting straight to the point, I see..."

"Oh come on!"

The voice becomes serious instantly. Gone is the sexy drawl, and it's replaced by crisp words that are music to Mingyu's ears. "I've heard Taffy's gang making some noise in the borders. You might wanna come and look at it once for yourself."

"Do you have any more information?"

"Nothing much right now, officer. Look, I'm holding up my end of the bargain but you've got to be patient."

Mingyu groans. It's not good news, and it's certainly not enough news. But he'll take a look himself to make sure he understands the graveness of the situation correctly.

"Okay. When should I come? Tell me when Taffy's men are lurking around the area?"

The voice shifts again into a teasing, seductive tone, making Mingyu jerk at the sudden transition.

"Come tomorrow? Race night."

"Yeah no that's not happening. I'll-"

"Tomorrow, babe. Wanna see you race. A big boy like you likes his fast bikes, don't you?"

The thought of racing sends a spike of adrenaline rushing through his veins, but he knows this is illegal. It's one thing allowing the leader of the races to become his informant so that he can keep an eye on the circuit as well as get key pieces of information that remain hidden to the legal eye. But it's an entirely different thing getting into the centre of the mess himself and be involved in it.

And yet, a part of him wants to feel the thrill again. Tonight, after years, he felt that adrenaline rushing through him when you'd tugged at his collar and kissed him repeatedly. Fuck. It had felt good, hadn't it? One night won't matter, will it?

"I'll be there."

"Fantastic. Can't wait to see you, babe."

_

Mingyu doesn't see you the next morning. He waits outside your door at 5.30, but doesn't knock, hoping you'll come out eventually. But you don't. He doesn't spot you through the rest of the day either, and it makes him worry. But he's decided to give you your space and time, so he will be patient... at least for one more day.

It's a Sunday so Mingyu has a half-day at work. When he's back from work, his mind is still all over the place. Should he even go to the race tonight? He's raced a bit back in college days, but everything pretty legal. Nothing like the den of vice he knows he's going to walk into tonight. But he also knows that this is the best way for him to infiltrate through the layers of middlemen that stop information from reaching his ears.

By the time 8.30 comes around, there's no text from you. Instead, there's a text from his informant, saved under the codename of layla (he knows it's not her real name, but he doesn't care enough to ask about it).

I'll see you at the circuit tonight, darling. Don't be late.

Mingyu's heart speeds up. Is it wrong to feel excited right now? As a conscientious police officer, he should definitely not feel excited. But as nothing more than a man, he feels his blood become warm at the thought of meeting the woman behind that voice he's spoken to for almost three months now. He's almost 100% sure the voice isn't generated by a voice modifier or AI, but it's also impossible for that to be someone's real voice, so there must be some pitch changes or something along those lines. Nevertheless, their conversations has often made him wonder about the woman herself.

She's a shadow- no one really knows who she is. But about four months ago, when she'd called him up herself to supply information in order to buy protection for herself and her racing infrastructure, Mingyu had yielded instantly by weighing his priorities. And since then, he's tried endless times to put a face to the voice, but it's been a search in vain.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he's gonna see the face for himself and put all his wandering thoughts to rest. Thoughts late at night after a particularly long phone call with his informant, that made him wonder whether the flirting was real or all for show. Wonder whether the woman herself would be as sexy as the voice. And wonder what kind of woman she must be in order to be capable enough to singlehandedly run an entire illegal racing system.

Fuck it, Mingyu thinks, after seeing the clock strike 8.45 and still no contact from your end. He wears a black tank top along with a black leather jacket- intending to fit right into the crowd he expects to see there. He just hopes there's no one else there who'll recognise him. And he certainly hopes nothing will happen to make him regret this decision for life.

_

You're such a fool, Mingyu, he thinks to himself. You're such a fool for thinking you'd fit in.

Mingyu may be just twenty-seven but he doesn't feel young at all when he sees the crowd at the race. The people here must be of his age, but they all seem so different from him. Perhaps it's because his job has taken away his youth that he'll always feel perpetually distant from even people of his own age.

And so Mingyu stands there awkwardly, stiff amidst a crowd of half-drunk and half-high people, wearing colourful headbands and smearing eclectic neon colours on their skin. He feels out of place- and yet, a part of him wishes he could fit in. He wishes he could have enjoyed his youth like this- on the edge of the other side of the law. He wishes he could have lived like this for even moment of his life- beyond academics, beyond career, beyond mere survival.

"Hi beautiful, looking for someone?" A woman with a cigarette between her fingers strolls up to him. Her hair is flying in the wind, exposing the tattoos all over her skin.

Before Mingyu can say anything, the crowd around him suddenly erupts in loud cheers, and she quickly pulls his hand and drags him towards the centre of the entire crowd. He sees two bikers mount on their bikes- exquisitely reworked to glow in the dark. A woman hops up on a platform in the middle of the two bikers and lifts a gun towards the sky. And as the crowd counts down, she shoots the gun right after 1 and the two bikers zoom out into the blackness ahead, the crowd going wild with cheers for the biker they support.

The scene makes Mingyu's skin feel alive too- the sheer speed of the two bikes, the sound of the engines revving and the general merriness around him induces adrenaline to flow through his veins. When he turns to look at the woman next to him, he sees her looking at him with a curious smile on her face. "Umm, I'm... I'm not really here for the race."

"You're not? Layla told me you would be." The smile on her face deepens, and Mingyu gasps. "You know Layla?" "I do. But that's not important. Let's get you on a bike, hmm?" Mingyu's somehow missed to noticed how her hand's still on his arm, gently stroking his bicep over his jacket. "No, really I don't want to." She steps right up close to him, "But you can try once, pretty boy." Her eyelashes cast long shadows on her cheeks, but Mingyu doesn't care. "I don't want to try." "Let loose for one night." "I'm not here for fun. I'm here for work-" The woman in front of his laughs. "Yes Layla said that too. Don't worry, she's going to work. But only after you race against her."

Mingyu feels his heart speed up. Race against Layla? Fuck. Now, why does that sound so tempting? It makes him only more curious to meet his informant, because why must she make herself so mysterious?

"Are you her friend?" Mingyu knows that this woman is not Layla, because the voice doesn't match by miles. This woman here has a lisp in her voice, unlike Layla's clear diction, and no amount of pitch changing or machine alterations can change that (Mingyu knows that the hard way).

"I'm her sister. Well, kind of. Now, no more questions pretty boy. Next race starts in a few minutes. Let's get you on a bike!" And Mingyu finds himself in no position to protest as the woman drags him away without hearing him anymore.

_

In the blink of an eye, Mingyu finds himself on a beautiful beast of a motorbike, his entire body drunk on adrenaline. There's so many people he's never even met before, but they're hyping him up. The attention-whore in him goes crazy at the cheers. There's coloured smoke being released into the sky, and Mingyu wears his helmet to prevent it from clouding his eyes. And finally when the smoke fades away, he sees his opponent standing along side him.

Layla.

Fuck.

Still no face to the voice in his head, but it's still an enigmatic visual that draws Mingyu in and reels his mind. He watches the way her black latex pants hug her long legs as she swings her legs over her bike. And he watches the way her helmet covers her face but her hair's still flying in the air. There's something still mysterious about her, and yet so oddly familiar.

But before he can say or do anything, the crowd begins the countdown, and in a second, the gunshot goes off. And Mingyu zooms ahead, revving his engine from 0 to 100 in a moment, a smile spreading on his face as the excitement of the speed injects itself in his veins. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Layla take a spin around the corner of the racetrack, her stable figure undeterred by the sharp turn. Mingyu may not be a professional, but it's not the first time he's racing. He's done this before and he can feel that familiar thrill returning, as he picks up speed and makes up his mind to defeat his worthy opponent.

It's a long and winding course, but to Mingyu it feels like a few minutes only. The cold night air hits his body and makes him feel like he's flying. Soon the ending flag is in sight, and he sees Layla speed up, hunching over her bike, determined to get there first.

But at the last minute, she steps back, her posture loosening as she sits back and watches Mingyu whizz off ahead of her.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath. Knowing she let him win easily hurts his ego, and he slows the bike down as they drive into the nothingness of the deserted roads ahead. When he finally comes to a stop, he gets off the bike and sees her stand a few metres away from him, her helmet still on her head stretching her legs.

"Hey! Layla! You let me win! I would've won anyway- fair and sq-"

Layla spins around and takes off her helmet, her hair whipping across her face, and Mingyu finally sees the face behind the voice.

_

"Y/N?" Mingyu's eyes are wide, his brain running as fast as his bike was a short while back, as he tries to connect the dots.

The voice is unmistakable, now slightly higher in pitch, and Mingyu wants to kick himself as he realises how big a fool he's been. "We finally meet, Kim Mingyu." There's a beautiful smile on your face, one he's not seen before. There are other things too- there's a nose pin on your button nose, making your features look sharper, and a necklace hanging off your neck, which is odd since he's never seen you wear jewellery before.

"Y/N? H- wh- how?!"

You don't answer him. You simply walk towards him, your hips swaying and Mingyu groans at the sight of your pretty legs in those tight pants. Fuck him for not recognising that ass sooner in spite of being obsessed with it for weeks.

"I thought I should come clean to you, officer, before you make any choices." You casually slot yourself between his legs, as Mingyu leans back against his motorbike. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

He thinks he's a fool for not finding out more about you before falling for you. He thinks he's a fool for maintaining a contact with someone as dangerous as La- you. And he thinks he's a fool for finding you even sexier after discovering this persona of yours.

And he thinks he would be a fool with regrets for all his life if he lets go of you now.

So Mingyu grabs onto your hips, and pulls you closer.

"You've got me by my balls, baby. Got me eating out of your hand. And you know I happen to like it. So it doesn't matter what I think, love. What matters is what you think." His fingers rub against the skin exposed as your crop top rises up as you dangle your hands around his shoulders. You laugh at his words, pressing even closer to him, the air between you two turning to electricity. "It doesn't matter what I think either- because I'd fallen for you ages ago when I first saw you around in town. The new, dashing police officer, Kim Mingyu, enquiring about gangsters and fending himself off prying old ladies at the same time. Since then I've just wanted to make you mine." Mingyu's heart hasn't stopped thumping loudly all night, and at your confession, his body tingles with a dangerous feeling.

"Glad we're on the same page, baby."

_

"This is my office," you whisper to him in between kisses as you drag him to a shady-looking room at the back of the building that's on the edge of the racing circuit, now deserted because everyone's busy at the races. "Office?" Mingyu giggles, because the term is ridiculous. The place is anything but an office- with the way dishevelled boxes are just stacked everywhere, and instead of desks there are more pool tables and boxes of alcohol. It's a small, dingy place, and the single tubelight at the end of the corridor flickers every other minute, but it's a vibe. Mingyu's not unfamiliar with seedy places in his line of work, but it's so novel to think this is where you truly work.

But fuck him if he doesn't think it just makes you hotter. Because there's something about you being the boss of a pack of hundred delinquents associated with even more hardened criminals that makes his dick chub up real quick.

Like it is right now, when your hands make quick work of removing his jacket and throwing it on the floor as you touch his bare muscle. Mingyu carelessly runs a hand through his hair as he sees you push him onto a chair on a desk that's in your office, the room lit only by the mercy of the distant tubelight and the moonlight streaming in through the window panes. "Fuck, you're so big Mingyu. Let me blow you? Please? Wanted to do this for so long." Your eyes are so pretty as you bend in front of him, fingers lazily rubbing into the tent in his pants, making him hiss. "Go on, baby. Whatever you like. Fuck, but kiss me once more."

And you do. You taste like berries, and Mingyu loves it. Mingyu knows he's got it bad, but he doesn't care. You're on your knees and you want to blow him, and if this isn't the mental image to which he's jerked off for days now, he'd be damned. So he pushes you down in between his knees after kissing you to his heart's content, and you quickly take off his pants. "God," you almost drool and Mingyu whimpers when you take off his boxers too. "You're so fucking big, Gyu. Never seen such a big, pretty cock," you say reverently, as you pump it and it twitches in your hands. Your eyes go wide when you lick it and fit your mouth barely against the tip, and Mingyu throws his head back and moans. He's not going to last long, if just this much has got him feeling like this.

Thankfully, you don't tease him much, eager to feel the heavy weight on your tongue too. So you take him as much as your throat allows, and Mingyu feels himself on the brink of heaven. When you bob your head a couple of times, Mingyu reaches down to tug your hair back and you moan around his cock. The vibrations send him over, and he cums into your mouth even as you continue to suck him. When you finally pull off with a pop, another squirt from his dick leaves a string of white cum on your lips and Mingyu feels himself getting hard again.

"That was so hot baby. You're so hot," he says, as he picks you up from the floor and on the desk. It's so easy for him to manhandle you like that, and you pull him close quickly. "You're hotter, Gyu. Can't tell you what fantasies I've had about you in these last few months." Mingyu smirks, his hands removing your beautiful pants, and spreading your thighs apart as he feels his way through your folds. "Umm? Really? Now don't be a bad girl, and tell me what you've thought about me."

You open your mouth to say something but then Mingyu pinches your clit, and any words fall away as you moan out loudly. Your hands steady themselves on his biceps as Mingyu begins to finger you painfully slowly- to the extent that he can hear the squelching sounds, and it drives him crazy.

"Tell me, Y/N."

When your breathing slows down as you feel Mingyu driving two fingers into you at a steady pace, his eyes fixed on yours, biting his lip in concentration, you tell him softly.

"Before I shifted into the flat... I wondered what you'd be like from up close. Because I'd only seen you from afar. And after hearing your v- aaah- voice, it just got worse." You feel Mingyu stretching you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as he kissed your neck.

"And then when I did shift in... fuck. It was so hard to not give in to you. Whenever you looked at me with your puppy eyes and y- y- your smile- ah, fuck I'm g- gonna cum, Mingyu!" You scream as he fingers you through your orgasm, and he licks his fingers clean once you come down from your high.

"Then who asked you to not give in to me?"

"I wanted to make sure you'd like me in real life and not judge me simply as an informant." Your simple, vulnerable words take his breath away, and Mingyu pulls off your top in one go. "Fuck, you're so cute baby. I'd like you in every form, in every life. You drive me crazy, do you know that?" And Mingyu knows that now, as you hold on to his shoulders as he enters you in one go. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. Tighter than your pretty mouth, fuck." He's trying so hard not to cum right now, but as you grip his hair and moan filthily, a stream of curses falling off your pretty lips, Mingyu lets his adrenaline take over. And he thrusts into you without any hesitance, hips moving fast, his balls heavy as he slams against you again and again. The desk creaks, and you pant in his ears, begging him to go harder, and Mingyu can feel the way your pussy clenches him at every thrust.

"Gonna cum, Gyu. Please-" Your nails dig into his nape, and it drives him over the edge. When you come along with him, there's a sharp buzz spreading through his body and he feels like he's gone to heaven.

He holds you close like that for the next few minutes, unable and uninterested in letting you go. When you both finally feel the high subside, you look up at him, a hazy smile on your face. "I really like you, Gyu. I hope you can like me too beyond who I am in this racing circuit. Trust me, it's.... it's not my entire life. I am a person bey-"

He kisses you quiet. "Stop explaining yourself." You try to protest, but he kisses you again. "You know Y/N, I think I liked you from the first day I met you. And I get what you're saying but... trust me. Fuck. I don't know how to say this. But safe to say if I thought you were amazing as Y/N? I think you're absolutely the epitome of perfection as Y/N plus Layla. So hot, so gorgeous, and I love every bit of you."

And then there's that single-dimpled smile again.

"I also like the nose pin. Why'd you take it off?"

You giggle, "Didn't want it to be a deal-breaker once I had my mind set on you."

Mingyu kisses your nose at the pin itself and you shiver in his arms.

"Nothing about you can be a deal-breaker, baby."

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

hello hello!! i was rereading the sunshine p2 headcanons, and i read a part that said “it’s not even the worst he’s done, you’re just that type of person in bed.” and it made me wonder… so what’s the worst san lang and xie lian has done to m!reader?? and what triggered them to be so horny towards reader? something reader said or wore? or was the two talking amongst eachother and had ideas?

i hope you’re taking care! i remember once you said you’re in school, so i hope that’s going well too!!💗

☀️anon

Sunshine headcanons 3

Hua Cheng x M!reader x Xie Lian

Thank you for waiting so long💕

I'm continuing off the sunshine reader headcanons for this

If the gif isn't Tgcf ignore it because the Internet sucks ass I'll fix it later

I did this at school 😊

I'm putting it in headcanons since there's multiple questions but just tell me if this isn't what you meant

Made up scenarios

There might be slight misinformation remember when Hua Cheng had the weird rut thing? Yeah I'm using that, but my details might all be messed up.

Ignore grammar mistakes

Maybe OOC

If you do not like these things do not read this.

NSFW, slapping, spanking, bondage, overstimulation, edging, choking ahead!!!

Sunshine headcanons part two

Sunshine part four

____________________________________

Xie Lian and San Lang have done plenty of things to you!

Of course you've enjoyed it

San Lang likes to bully you so of course the things he's done have been more rough.

San Lang likes to edge you, or overstimulate you. It just depends on his mood

He'll do it for hours too.

Each time he makes sure you're crying and babbling. If you're not then San Lang doesn't think his job is done.

San Lang's favorite things is to fuck you dumb

Whether it be in bed, or over a calligraphy table, or in the gambling den, even over an alter!

His goal is to make your vocal chords raw and your legs shake.

San Lang makes sure by the end of the night that your poor cock can't cum anymore and you're all emptied out

So after a long time of making you wait, or pushing you over the edge many times you obviously start to squirm.

It's a natural body reaction that San Lang enjoys to see but he doesn't appreciate when your hands reach him and attempt to pause his ministrations.

(Obviously he would stop if you said your safe word or seriously wanted to stop)

Which leads to something else he enjoys.

Bondage!

San Lang loves, loves, loves to tie you up in pretty red ropes so that you can't escape him

It just does something to him, to see you tied up like that.

Like if you wanted to you seriously could break out of them but you enjoy being good for him and being pretty for him too.

San Lang won't get physically rough with you, he isn't one to hit you or spank you.

He likes to watch though

Xie Lian is mostly the gentle one, you both are gentle.

That doesn't mean he can't be rough though

If you're in the mood to get physically aggressively that's Xie Lian's domain.

While San Lang would rather not put you in serious pain, Xie Lian knows you want it and it's in a safe space.

He wouldn't ever purposely hurt you either, this is only in the bedroom.

So Xie Lian surprisingly enough is the one who will slap you if you get too mouthy, or spanks you if he thinks you deserve such a punishment

Your guy's sex life didn't always look like this.

It used to always be vanilla and gentle. Which of course you all enjoyed but everyone was hiding deeper desires

It started more with Xie Lian and San Lang talking

You aren't assertive at all so of course you didn't make a peep about your own feelings

Xie Lian and San Lang had just been making ideas of their own, they aren't dumb

They just decided to keep it to themself for now until there was an opportunity to discuss a more complex bedroom life

Their plan of smoothly introducing you to this failed very quickly when Hua Cheng went through one his strange rut things again

Xie Lian doesn't know why but he had been planning on taking care of it himself.

He's dealt with it before and he's sure Hua Cheng doesn't want you to see him like this

Especially when Hua Cheng rarely remembers what happens

Well that didn't go as planned either, when you accidentally enticed Hua Cheng

Honestly it's all your fault (jk)

Xie Lian had left for a literal 30 seconds before he could hear thumps in the room.

It was an accident on your part, you had come home with a new outfit you wanted to show your lovers

Some pretty robes you got from the ghosts

You were very pretty but the robes were obviously meant for more vulgar work. Not that your oblivious self knew.

So when you decided to show Hua Cheng how you looked, his rut-adled brain jumped on you immediately, pushing you into the bed and ripping the many layers off

Which was unusual for Hua Cheng, who was usually patient and waited for you to carefully disrobe.

So when Xie Lian went to go check what was going on it was already too late🤷

Hua Cheng already had you pinned under him and your poor, ripped up robes were now just scattered cloth on the floor.

So that's how your bedroom life changed.

After that night of aggressive, and endless sex you decided you white enjoyed it

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng enjoyed it too

🦊🪷

"A-Lang, A-Lian, I'm home!" You call, walking into Paradise Manor. However your lovers don't answer, do you decide to just go to the bedroom. Unknowingly for you, you've just passed Xie Lian in the kitchen, and your lover can't warn you about San Lang. Woops. Your first mistake of the night.

You continue on to the bedroom. You had been out most of the day. Xie Lian and San Lang ushered you out of the house, so you decided to hang out with your ghost friends. The women were absolutely adored with you and wanted to dress you up. The women's work was to try and attract the attention of men to have sex but you were friends with them anyways!

They're quite chaotic and fun to be around. They dressed you up in some of their robes. You know how you looked. Enticing, pretty, sexy, etc. The point was you wanted your lovers to see you. Why wouldn't you show them? You're dressed up so pretty for someone's attention so of course you want your lovers to be the ones to give you such attention. Your second mistake of the night.

When you open the bedroom door, you find only Hua Cheng in the room. You don't remember seeing Xie Lian anywhere else in the manor so maybe he went out? "A-Lang what are you doing all alone in the bedroom?" You hum.

Your voice immediately drags Hua Cheng's attention. His head snaps in your direction and then you see his eyes roaming over your form. He never replied and he only looks at you like prey. You should've run them but that was your third mistake. You just watched your lover stalk closer to you and stay where you are instead.

If Hua Cheng is a fox, and Xie Lian is a ferret, you're definitely a rabbit. You just freeze in place, staring at him. Hua Cheng lightly runs a hand over your cheek and he just looks at you for a few seconds. The silence is broken when he's suddenly grabbing you by the elbow and showing you down in the bed. He doesn't even say anything just low grunts and growl like sounds come up from his throat.

You yelp in surprise. Hua Cheng has never done this. He's always careful and even hesitant to touch you but something has changed. Before you can ask what's happening or try to move out of under him, Hua Cheng rips your robes. "S-san Lang, wait just a minute?!" You shriek and blush. You try pushing back, and attempt to sit up but Hua Cheng shoves you on your back and forces you under him.

Xie Lian finally decides to see what's going on and quickly finds the two of you. He blinks in shock. He never saw you come in. Also your situation right now is shocking as well. Xie Lian is quick to move Hua Cheng back and off of you, using rouye to keep him in place. Xie Lian at first though you might've been scared. After all you've never seen Hua Cheng like this but you're actually, shamefully hard.

You're blushing and shut your legs, trying to hide but you can't when Xie Lian has already seen. You don't know why you're turned on. This should be scary and frightening but that's the opposite of what you're feeling right now. The way Hua Cheng harshly forced you under him, as if he was going to devour you right then and there? The way he ripped your robes without care, because he's too impatient and wants to fuck you now?

You quite enjoyed that.

"A-n, are you alright?" Xie Lian smiles at you and walks closer to run a hand over your hair. You can only bid slowly. You're still staring at Hua Cheng who struggles a bit in Rouye's hold.

The perfect time has presented itself so why not take it by the hand? Xie Lian tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, and he leans down, pressing his lips near your ear. "Baobei, do you like this? Do you like how San Lang treats you?"

You blush and gulp nervously. You turn your head trying to move your sensitive ear away from Xie Lian's lips. His breath tickles your ear and his voice just makes you ache more. "U-uhm"

Xie Lian tried out something for himself and he grips your hair, forcing your head to stay where it is. When you moan, Xie Lian stops feeling bad about it. "Do you A-n?"

"I-I like it" you gaze at bed, too aroused to meet any of your lovers gazes. Xie Lian smiles at your answer, and sits next to you on the bed. "Would you like to help San Lang this time around?" Xie Lian looks at Hua Cheng, who's staring at both of you with a predatory gaze.

Xie Lian's hand rubs over your thigh, "Let's try it then." He releases Rouye and lets the bandage wrap back around his wrist. Hua Cheng is immediately up and moving, getting on the bed and dragging you into a rough kiss. It's different and you like it. Hua Cheng explores your mouth with his tongue, and he nips your lips until the bleed a little.

Xie Lian doesn't mind watching, he likes seeing Hua Cheng enjoying you. He leans back against the headboard while Hua Cheng decides just kissing you is getting boring. His hands find your hips and he pulls you into his lap, spreading your legs around him so you can't hide your pretty cock away from him.

Hua Cheng attacks your neck next. Biting, and sucking roughly on your skin. Hua Cheng gets more handy though and one his hands dig into the plump flesh of your ass. Another hand starts rubbing your dick. You thought it was Hua Cheng but it's Xie Lian. You can only cling to your lover and moan. "San Lang face him this way" Xie Lian switches up the position.

You're still on Hua Cheng's lap but your back is to his chest, and now Xie Lian is in front of you instead. You cling to your lover's arms trying not to tip over, but Hua Cheng pulls your knees up to your chest instead, spreading you apart again. "You're pretty flexible A-n" Xie Lian laughs softly.

You flush at his words but a moan leaves your mouth when Xie Lian starts prodding oil covered fingers into your hole. "San Lang really wants to bully you Baobei but I'll make sure you don't get hurt" Xie Lian is only teasing you though, and you really want to cum by now. You whine impatiently, as Xie Lian purposely avoids your prostate.

Your prayers are answered though and his fingers leave you empty, the emptiness is soon replaced by something much bigger though. Hua Cheng keeps your legs hiked up and he bullies his cock inside you. A cry tumbles from your lips when Hua Cheng pushes your hips down, forcing you to take all of him.

He doesn't wait for your comfort like he usually does and goes straight to thrusting his dick into. He acts like he's been starved for years! "Ah~ A-Lang please, p-please!" You don't really know what exactly you're begging him for. Whether it's to slow down or for him to keep going but he successfully wrings an orgasm out of you, and it splatters across your tummy.

You've never had the chance to have more than one orgasm in a night but that's going to change today because Hua Cheng is moving again and he's shoving your face in the pillows. Hua Cheng prefers this, he can fuck you better when your on your hands and knees, and perking your ass in the air. His cock bullies deeper into you and his hips slap hard against your ass.

Xie Lian is thoroughly enjoying himself. Your eyes rolled back and your cries muffled by the pillows. He has a better idea though. "A-n can I borrow your pretty lips?"

You only babble an incoherent sentence at him, a mumbled "yesh~" and something else. Xie Lian really only cares for the consent though. He disrobes, enough to where he can let his cock escape its confinements. Then he fists his fingers into your hair and forces you to look up at him. Xie Lian was going to try and guide you through it slowly but you immediately nuzzle up to his dick and start licking his head.

Xie Lian moans and grips tighter when you take his cock down your throat and gag. Hua Cheng's fucking only makes you take both of their cocks deeper and soon tears are running down your face and another orgasm shakes you to your core. Xie Lian takes the initiative to face fuck you. Both of them make sure your holes are never empty for too long.

"A-n you're doing s-so well" Xie Lian purrs out, he stutters from your lips around his dick though. Not that you would notice you're too busy drooling and babbling. They aren't invisible to the pleasure they're receiving from you either and it's not long until they're both cumming in you at the same time. Hua Cheng's and Xie Lian's cum both feel warm in your belly. You can feel Hua Cheng's cum drips down the back of your thighs.

They pull out of you but Hua Cheng doesn't let you go. He keeps his arms wrapped around you and tucks his face into your neck. You breathe heavily and Xie Lian wipes the drool from your chin. You sigh leaning back on Hua Cheng's chest, resting. Hua Cheng chuckles in your ear and for the first time in the night speaks for the first time. "You don't think we're done do you?"

Of course you aren't. 💕

____________________________________

I hope you like 😭🙏

[nodusomnis]

title: ending scene pairing(s): aventurine x gn!reader word count: 8.6k+ synopsis: a perfect ending, a moment divine. two souls entwined, their destinies aligned.

In the wake of the debacle that unfolded within the confines of Clock Studios Theme Park, Aventurine found himself clashing with a torrent of memories, cascading upon him amidst the tumultuous clash with The Nameless. The encounter with the Emanator of Nihility, Acheron, added another layer to his introspection. He had not anticipated a meaningful exchange with her, let alone receiving the answers to the questions that had long haunted his thoughts, yet remained unspoken. 

His mind had been consumed by his mission, driven by a desire to unearth the truths obscured by The Family's clandestine ploys. Yet, beneath it all, lay a vulnerability he had concealed, encased within layers of self-preservation.

Aventurine was a fragile soul, shielded by layers of barriers against the insecurities coursing through his veins. Each layer seemed meticulously etched into his being, a defense mechanism designed to protect his fractured self from further harm. It was as though he had been molded by circumstance, destined to endure until the end.

The specter of Death had loomed large, a tantalizing prospect of liberation from the shackles binding him in place. However, it appeared that fate had other designs, offering him a reprieve, albeit bittersweet. Aventurine had exhausted every resource, staked his final chip and his very essence, to grasp the one elusive prize he coveted above all else—freedom.

The sensation was intoxicating, a long-denied elation flooding his senses as he bid farewell to his former self, Kakavasha. With measured steps, he approached the yawning abyss, a void of darkness and uncertainty where his final gambit awaited. Here, amidst the unknown, his destiny beckoned, and it was within his power to seize it, to forge a new path toward the life he yearned for.

True death, once a tempting prospect, now held no sway over him. He had relinquished its grip on his destiny, opting instead to embrace the unknown with resolve, prepared to confront whatever trials lay ahead on his journey to redemption.

As Aventurine's resounding footsteps echoed through the cavernous space, punctuated by the gentle splashes of water with each step, a voice resonated within his mind, disrupting his thoughts like a sudden thunderclap in the silence.

"Do you believe your luck will never wane?" 

Aventurine froze in his tracks. The voice, hauntingly familiar, sliced through the stillness, dredging up memories of chance encounters and shared moments in the Land of Festivities.

It was you, the enigmatic figure he had crossed paths with amidst the opulent walls of a Penacony casino, where the allure of chance beckoned like a siren's call.

In a rare departure from his relentless pursuit of his mission, Aventurine had allowed himself a fleeting indulgence—a dalliance with Lady Luck amidst the glittering lights and frenetic energy of the gambling den. The thrill of the game, the towering stacks of chips exchanged like currency in a high-stakes dance, held him in thrall. 

Seated at the poker table, surrounded by fellow players, each with their own tales of triumph and despair, Aventurine reveled in the stimulating blend of risk and reward. The round table, a silent witness to the ebb and flow of fortunes, bore witness to his calculated gambit, his skillful manipulation of the odds. 

For Aventurine, winning was not merely a possibility—it was a certainty, as innate to his being as the very act of breathing.

As Aventurine boldly wagered half of his towering stack of chips, each worth a staggering million, the atmosphere around the table crackled with disbelief, leaving his fellow players astounded and speechless. Unconcerned with the monetary value or potential rewards, he sought only the thrill of risk, a sensation that coursed through him like a tempestuous tide, simultaneously exhilarating and unnerving.

Confident in his own luck, he staked his fortune on the game, even with a modest hand of two pairs. Trusting in the whims of fate and the calculated odds, he remained poised, concealing the tumult of anxiety that churned within him beneath a mask of stoic composure.

Yet, beneath the veneer of confidence, Aventurine grappled with the relentless pounding of his heart, the palpitations echoing the intensity of his emotions. Clutching a single chip beneath the table, he clung to it as if it were a lifeline, a tangible anchor amidst the rumpus of uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm him.

"That is an audacious wager, Mr. Aventurine. Are you unequivocally committed to this course of action?" inquired the individual seated across from him, their voice tinged with apprehension.

In response to the incredulous query from his fellow player, Aventurine offered only a sardonic smirk, a silent affirmation of his resolve. "I am certain," he replied, his voice laced with a quiet confidence. "This is but the grand finale of our game—a conclusion befitting of our stakes."

"Is he not one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC? The individual notorious for his gambling addiction?"

"Yes, indeed. His name is rumored to be Aventurine."

As murmurs rippled through the crowd, whispers of his identity as one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC—a figure rumored to be consumed by the allure of gambling—reached his ears. He’s not surprised if they know him. After all, the influence wielded by the IPC was not to be underestimated, its reach extending across the cosmos, its prominence ensuring the preservation of its power and prestige. Therefore, rather than shying away from the scrutiny, Aventurine embraced the spotlight, reveling in the recognition bestowed upon him by the throngs of onlookers.

With a subtle shift of his gaze, he surveyed the faces of his fellow players, noting the flickers of trepidation that danced across their features. It was a sight that brought him a perverse sense of satisfaction, a reminder of the raw essence of gambling—the interplay of anxiety, anticipation, and despair—that fueled his very existence.

As the tension peaked and the moment of truth arrived, Aventurine and his adversary revealed their cards to unveil identical two pairs, setting the stage for a climactic showdown. However, it was Aventurine's hidden ace that tipped the scales in his favor, securing his victory in the final round and solidifying his reputation as a master of chance.

The audience erupted into gasps of awe and scattered applause, their reactions serving as testament to Aventurine's extraordinary luck and skill. Their admiration only added to the weight of his legend, reinforcing the notion of his seemingly boundless fortune.

“Do you believe your luck will never wane?”

Amidst the flurry of excitement, Aventurine's gaze intersected with where he heard the voice. There you stood, a stoic figure amidst the throngs of spectators. Your expression, devoid of the fervor that gripped the crowd, exuded a palpable indifference that set you apart from the sea of adulation.

For Aventurine, accustomed to the praise and criticism that accompanied his every move, your silent scrutiny held a weight far greater than the cacophony of voices around him. It was as if your gaze alone bore the gravity of a thousand judgments, casting doubt upon his invincible facade.

As you gracefully departed from the scene, gliding through the crowd with an effortless poise, Aventurine felt a fleeting impulse to pursue you, to unravel the mystery behind your statement. Yet, before he could act upon his impulse, the dealer's call snapped him back to reality, redirecting his attention to the present moment.

With a final glance in your direction, Aventurine reluctantly tore his gaze away, refocusing his attention on the game at hand. Though your departure left a lingering curiosity in his mind, he knew that the cards had been dealt, and it was time to play his hand.

The following day, Aventurine ventured once more into the hallowed halls of the casino, his gaze wandered across the expanse of the venue, alighting upon a figure seated at a poker table amidst a horde of eager players. In an instant, recognition dawned upon him, for there, amidst the sea of faces, sat the individual he had encountered the day prior.

Without hesitation, Aventurine strode purposefully towards the table, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected reunion. Never had he anticipated crossing paths once more with you in a city as vast as Penacony.

As he approached, he observed the scene unfolding before him—the table abuzz with the energy of the game, the players immersed in the pursuit of fortune. However, amidst the dissonance of chips clinking and cards shuffling, his attention was drawn inexorably to you, seated with an air of composed indifference despite your apparent lack of chips.

It was the same familiar insouciance he’d seen in your first meeting. How funny.

The mocking taunts of a fellow player echoed through the room, directed towards you with a mixture of derision and amusement. Despite your depleted reserves, you remained unruffled, your countenance betraying none of the desperation that typically accompanied such circumstances.

"It appears fortune has yet to favor me," you remarked casually, your tone devoid of any hint of concern.

A ripple of laughter emanated from your adversary, his jeering palpable as he sought to goad you into yet another round of play, urging you to replenish your dwindling supply of chips. Yet, you met his jests with an inscrutable gaze in the face of his provocations.

Aventurine, with a knowing glint in his eye, couldn't help but chuckle softly at the scene. He was well acquainted with the minds of these gamblers, their intentions transparent as glass. It was clear they sought to deplete your remaining resources, confident in their ability to emerge victorious. Indeed, in their minds, the prospect of claiming more rewards danced tantalizingly.

"They will engage in further play," Aventurine interjected, his voice slicing through the air, commanding the attention of all present, including yourself. The seasoned gambler spared no glance for your fellow players; instead, his focus lingered keenly upon you, a fact not lost on the others.

Interrupting any potential protests, he spoke before you could voice your objections. 

"Since it appears they lack anything of value to offer, why not allow me to play on their behalf instead? Care to oppose?" The challenge issued by Aventurine lingered, met with smirks and laughter from the assembled men, their eyes alight with greed.

"Well, well, well... I admire your audacity, lad. The more stakes, the merrier, isn't that right?" Their laughter cascaded like a chorus, oblivious to the fact that in Aventurine, they faced a master amongst masters in the art of acquisition.

"How naive..." you muttered under your breath, earning only a gentle touch from Aventurine atop your head, his actions eliciting a look of incredulity from you.

"Regardless, shall we proceed?"

With the deal struck, the game unfurled as the dealer meticulously distributed cards to each player. You observed with keen interest, your gaze occasionally drifting toward the blonde gentleman seated beside you. Sensing your scrutiny, he met your eyes briefly before offering a sly smile, his actions enigmatic yet intriguing.

Furrowing your brow in silent inquiry, you sought to discern his intentions, but he merely pressed a finger to his lips in response.

"Remain composed and observe," his silent directive seemed to convey.

Resigned to his inscrutable demeanor, you acquiesced, allowing him free rein. As the game progressed, the man who had thus far dominated proceedings wore a self-assured smirk, placing a bid worth half a million credits. The others hesitated, yet one figure, the notorious gambler seated beside you, sees this as an opportunity.

"Ah, now we're truly delving into the heart of the matter," Aventurine chuckled, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes as he adjusted his tinted glasses with a light touch. "Since you seem to relish in the thrill of risk-taking, my good sir, why not elevate the stakes even further?"

His words trailed off, drawing the attention of all present once more, including yours, earning him a quizzical raised eyebrow. You couldn't fathom what he had up his sleeve, but a sense of impending audacity pervaded the atmosphere.

"If fortune favors you," Aventurine continued, his tone laced with a hint of challenge, "I shall generously double all the chips you currently possess."

Gasps and murmurs break through the assembled spectators at the grit of his offer, whispers swirling with tales of his legendary gambling prowess. But, to you, his proposition came as no surprise. You were well aware of Aventurine's penchant for daring wagers, although the sheer magnitude of this gamble caught even you off guard.

"But," Aventurine's voice lowered, carrying an air of quiet authority, as he plucked a single chip from his side and deftly flicked it across the table to the stunned recipient, "should fortune favor me..."

The chip landed in the bewildered man's grasp, his expression a mix of confusion and apprehension as he gazed back at Aventurine.

"You will forfeit all the chips you've amassed from this individual," Aventurine concluded, his gaze steady and unwavering.

Your eyes widened in disbelief at his bold proclamation, a protest bubbling at the edge of your lips. 

"Hey—"

"I am the player at present, am I not?" Aventurine's tone brooked no argument, his gaze met yours, a silent reminder that he held the reins of the game.

With a resigned sigh, you bit your lower lip, restraining yourself from interjecting. After all, you weren't a participant in the game at this moment, merely an observer. And within the confines of the casino, such displays of audaciousness were not uncommon. Still, the realization that Aventurine was willing to go to such lengths to aid a stranger only added to the ever-growing meter of outrageousness you held for him.

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as the man across the table digested Aventurine's audacious proposition. Initially met with disbelief, a subtle transformation overtook his countenance, the contours of his features twisting into a sinister smirk. A chill of foreboding gripped your senses, a premonition of impending turmoil settling like a shadow upon your consciousness.

Amidst the mounting tension, your gaze darted toward Aventurine, seeking solace in his unwavering composure. His demeanor remained calm amidst the tempestuous currents swirling around you, offering little insight into the hand he held concealed beneath the veil of his cards. With bated breath, you awaited the revelation that would determine the outcome of this high-stakes gamble, each passing moment fraught with palpable suspense.

"Very well, let us lay bare our fortunes," the old man declared, his tone laced with arrogance as he motioned towards the deck. With a flourish, the cards were revealed, their secrets laid bare for all to see.

In a swift and decisive move, Aventurine emerged victorious, his triumph resounding with effortless grace. The cocky facade of his adversary crumbled in an instant, replaced by an expression of bitter defeat as he clutched his head in despair. With a rueful sigh, he relinquished the spoils of his ill-fated gamble, returning to you the chips that had once slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.

As you and Aventurine exited the confines of the casino, the weight of gratitude settled upon your shoulders like a heavy mantle. Despite the reckless nature of his intervention, you couldn't help but feel a surge of appreciation for his timely assistance. Yet, beneath the surface of your gratitude lurked a nagging sense of wariness, a reminder of the perilous waters into which you had unwittingly waded.

"Thank you for your help back there," you offered sincerely, the words heavy with genuine appreciation. Aventurine responded with a disarming smile, though his subsequent words bore the weight of underlying intent.

"Do not misconstrue my actions as mere altruism. I acted with purpose, not without consideration for my own interests," he remarked, his tone tinged with a subtle edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "Surely, you are aware of who I am."

Closing the distance between you, Aventurine's imposing figure loomed over you, his gaze piercing and inscrutable. You felt the telltale twitch of your eyes and the tightening of your fists at your sides, a reflexive response to the palpable aura of danger that surrounded him.

"This is precisely why I avoid entanglements with individuals like yourself," you admitted, your voice laced with a mixture of resignation and apprehension.

Aventurine's laughter rang out, a melodic sound that grated against your nerves. "But in this instance, you have no choice but to engage, do you not? Now, onto the matter at hand – I seek answers regarding your cryptic statement from yesterday."

Your eyebrow arched in bemusement at his unexpected inquiry. "There was no deeper meaning to my words. I merely commented on your inherent luck, having observed your exploits within the casino since your arrival in Penacony."

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you cursed inwardly at the unforeseen repercussions of your offhand remark. Aventurine's scrutinizing gaze bore into you with unsettling intensity, seemingly searching for any trace of falsehood within your composed demeanor.

"Very well, if that is indeed the case, then I have another proposition for you," he declared, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. Your heart quickened at the implication of trouble brewing on the horizon, yet you met his gaze with steely resolve.

"And what might that be?"

"Be my eyes and ears here in Penacony," Aventurine proposed, his smirk widening into a grin that sent a chill down your spine.

The story of your unlikely alliance with Aventurine had begun. If ever the unexpected news circulated amongst the circles of Penacony, many would find it incredulous that someone of his stature, a member of the esteemed Ten Stonehearts, would place trust in a mere stranger. Indeed, to the uninitiated observer, the notion seemed absurd – a contradiction in terms that defied logic and reason. But, for Aventurine, such trivial matters held little sway over his calculated decisions.

To him, trust was a commodity to be traded with caution, its value contingent upon a myriad of factors that extended far beyond surface appearances. In his world, betrayal and deception were the currency of every world, woven seamlessly into his existence. And so, when he extended his offer to you, it was not born of blind faith or naivety, but rather a calculated gamble rooted in the certainty of his own capabilities.

He knew, with certainty, that even if you were to betray him or fabricate falsehoods in his presence, he possessed the keen intellect and astute intuition to discern truth from lies. In his eyes, you were but a pawn in his grand scheme – a pawn whose movements he could predict with precision, regardless of the facades you chose to adopt.

However, to his surprise and consternation, you defied his expectations at every turn. Despite your initial reluctance and the aloof demeanor you projected, you proved yourself to be a reliable ally – one whose resourcefulness and ingenuity surpassed his own assumptions.

How did you gather your intel, he wondered? Was it through mingling with the citizens of Penacony, ingratiating yourself into their midst to extract information like a skilled puppeteer manipulating marionettes? Aventurine pondered these questions with a mixture of intrigue and frustration, unable to fathom the depths of your strategy.

Perhaps it was a sense of indebtedness that drove you, he mused. The desire to repay a perceived debt hanging heavy upon your conscience, compelling you to fulfill your obligations despite your reservations. Or perhaps, you were simply averse to owing favors, unwilling to be beholden to another soul, even one as formidable as Aventurine.

Whatever the reason, Aventurine found himself grappling with the mystery that was you – a puzzle whose pieces refused to align neatly within the edges of his understanding. And though he may never unravel the mysteries of your motivations, he couldn't deny the undeniable truth: in you, he had encountered a force to be reckoned with – a fool, perhaps, but a fool whose strength lay in the depths of your unfathomable resolve.

In the bustling streets of Penacony, amidst the cacophony of laughter and music that permeated the air, you continued your clandestine endeavors as Aventurine's trusted confidant. With practiced discretion, you navigated the labyrinthine alleys and bustling marketplaces, seamlessly blending into the tapestry of everyday life in the Land of Festivities. To the casual observer, you were but another face in the crowd – unremarkable, inconspicuous, and utterly forgettable.

Yet, beneath the veneer of anonymity, you carried out your duties with unwavering dedication and precision. Gathering tidbits of information like shards of broken glass, you pieced together the intricate puzzle of Penacony's underworld, all the while maintaining a facade of normalcy to ward off any suspicion that may arise.

Aventurine, ever the astute observer, commended your efforts with a rare display of generosity, treating you to rounds of soulglads despite your persistent protests. You rebuffed his gestures with firm resolve, adamant in your refusal to be indebted to him once more. Yet, despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of detachment, Aventurine possessed a knack for circumventing your defenses, his genuine concern and camaraderie slipping through the cracks of your stoic exterior.

For Aventurine, whose existence had long been steeped in solitude and mistrust, your presence offered a rare glimpse of authenticity amidst the sea of duplicity that surrounded him. Though he wore the mask of manipulation and trickery with practiced ease, there lingered within him a kernel of genuineness – a flicker of humanity that defied the confines of his carefully constructed facade.

Trusting others had always been a precarious endeavor for Aventurine, a vulnerability he was loath to embrace. To him, every word spoken and gesture made was a calculated maneuver, a chess move in the intricate game of deception that defined his existence. Yet, in your company, he found himself traversing uncharted territory – a realm where sincerity and trust held sway, however fleetingly.

As days transitioned into days, and days into weeks, the bond between you and Aventurine grew stronger, shaped within the crucible of mutual understanding and respect. 

The vibrant hues of dawn painted the skyline of Penacony's skyscrapers in surreal brilliance, you stood alongside Aventurine at the Dream's Edge, marveling at the breathtaking spectacle unfolding before you. The scene was surreal, almost otherworldly, for how could there be a sunrise in the Dreamscape—a world where reality and dreams intertwine?

However, amidst the awe-inspiring panorama, a sense of anticipation hung in the air, tinged with a hint of uncertainty. Why had Aventurine summoned you to this ethereal realm, away from the hustle and bustle of waking life, with no other souls in sight?

As you gaze upon Aventurine's countenance, a wave of surprise and intrigue washes over you, for the sight before you is unlike anything you've ever beheld. The ethereal glow of the sun caresses his features, casting a radiant halo around him, as if nature itself conspired to illuminate his presence.

His visage, once adorned with the mischievous curve of a smirk, now wears an expression of profound introspection. Those eyes, usually dancing with mischief, now reflect a depth of emotion you've never witnessed before—a blend of serenity and sorrow that tugs at the strings of your heart.

Gone is the cocksure grin that was his trademark, replaced by a solemnity that seems to weigh heavily upon him. It's as if a veil has been lifted, revealing a side of Aventurine you never knew existed—a side that is raw, vulnerable, and achingly human.

Aventurine stands amidst the whispers of the breeze, his silhouette a portrait of contemplation against the canvas of dawn. His golden tresses dance in harmony with the wind, a silent symphony of nature's serenade. But it's not just the tendrils of his hair that sway; there's a subtle dance in his demeanor, a rhythm of emotions that ripple beneath the surface.

In the soft glow of sunlight, his features are painted with an ethereal hue, casting shadows that play upon the landscape of his face. There's a longing, a yearning, etched in the lines of his brow, as though he's searching for something beyond the horizon, something elusive yet tantalizingly close. His eyes, windows to the depths of his soul, betray the secrets he guards so closely, each flicker and glimmer a testament to the complexities hidden within.

You've been tethered to his side, bound by a debt that intertwines your fates in a dance of obligation and intrigue. Yet, despite the proximity, the enigma of Aventurine remains veiled in mystery. He is a man of many facets, a puzzle with pieces that shift and rearrange with every passing moment. Cunning and unpredictable, he defies easy categorization, a riddle waiting to be unraveled.

Through numerous interactions, the two of you have maintained a strictly professional relationship, focused solely on exchanging gathered information. Neither of you delved into personal matters, content with knowing only the basics about each other. This engagement is a singular occurrence, with no desire to complicate matters further. There's a firm boundary between you, each respecting the other's space and avoiding unnecessary entanglements.

In the midst of a tranquil moment, punctuated only by the soft whispers of the breeze, his voice broke the silence, drawing your focus away from the horizon. Without turning to meet your gaze, he posed a question that seemed innocuous on the surface but hinted at a deeper curiosity.

"What brings you to Penacony? Is it for leisure or some other purpose?"

Your response, delivered with a casual nonchalance, betrayed none of the complexity brewing beneath the surface. "No particular reason. Just wandering, as wanderers tend to do."

As you drew closer to him, mirroring his contemplative stance.. But it was his next words that stirred something within you, a recognition of the carefully guarded boundaries you both maintained.

"You're an enigma," Aventurine mused, his tone betraying a hint of curiosity tinged with respect. "I know nothing of your origins, your affiliations, or even the world you call home. You exist as a blank canvas against the backdrop of the universe."

His observation prompts you to turn towards him, a faint grimace touching your features. It's clear that his words have struck a chord, stirring a sense of curiosity within you that matches his own.

"You went snooping into my background?" Your words cut through the air with a sharpness that catches Aventurine's attention. 

"And the idea of me discreetly digging into your background never crossed your mind?" Aventurine's tone carries a hint of amusement.

"I had my suspicions, especially considering your ties to the IPC. Knowing you, you always manage to dig up information to give yourself an edge. But I'll give credit where it's due; at least you're forthright about it, even if it does irk me."

"Right now?" Aventurine raises an eyebrow, his amusement growing.

"Yes, right now.”

"But why can't I detect any anger in your demeanor?" 

"Because I'm not one to wear my emotions on my sleeve. I prefer to keep them under wraps," you explain, a sense of guardedness creeping into your voice.

Aventurine's laughter rings out at your refusal, his amusement evident in the glint of his eyes. "Unfair, isn't it? You hold all the cards, knowing who I am, while I'm left in the dark except for a mere name and your claim of being a wanderer. But how about a little game?"

Your expression twists in disdain at his transparent attempt to glean information. You see through his ploy and have no intention of playing along.

"I won't indulge your little charade just to satisfy your curiosity about me. Nice try," you retort firmly.

Aventurine's grin widens as he deftly flips a coin through his fingers, the metallic glint catching the light before he catches it effortlessly. 

"Such a shame.”

Once more, silence descends between you, a tense pause punctuated only by the soft rustle of the wind. Then, Aventurine breaks the quiet again with a pointed question. 

"So, perhaps you know my origin?"

As you locked gazes with Aventurine, a subtle shift in his demeanor didn't escape your notice. His voice, usually laced with confidence and bravado, now carried a hushed tone, tinged with an underlying tremor that uncovered a vulnerability you had never before witnessed in him. It was a nuance that spoke volumes, revealing a depth of emotion that contradicted his stoic facade.

In that moment, as the weight of his unspoken words hung heavy in the air, your gaze was drawn to his features—the striking contours of his face, the subtle symmetry that bespoke a beauty both rare and captivating. It was a beauty that bespoke his heritage, his lineage tracing back to the long-lost race of Avgins, a people now consigned to the annals of history.

The knowledge of his origins colored your perception of him, for you understood the burden he bore as one of the last of his kind. Avgins, known for their exquisite beauty and mesmerizing eyes, had long been subjected to discrimination and extinction, their very existence a reminder of a bygone era fraught with prejudice and fear.

You couldn't fault him for his choice to conceal his eyes behind tinted glasses, for you knew all too well the scrutiny and suspicion that awaited those who carried the unmistakable mark of their ancestry. In every world where difference was met with disdain, Aventurine's desire to shield himself from prying eyes was not born of vanity, but of necessity—a means of self-preservation in a society quick to judge and condemn.

And yet, even as he sought refuge behind his carefully constructed facade, there was a rawness to him, a vulnerability that transcended the barriers he had erected. In his eyes, you glimpsed the echoes of a lost heritage, the silent lament of a people erased from history, and in that moment, you found yourself drawn to him in a way you had never imagined possible. For beneath the mask of his bravado lay a soul as fragile and ephemeral as the dawn, yearning to be seen and understood in a world that had long since forgotten of the adversity.

"Yes, I do..." Your admission lingers in the air, carried away by the wind that brushes past, stirring the stillness that settled over the conversation. Aventurine's reaction is subtle, a scoff followed by a nonchalant shrug, his gaze shifting towards the towering skyscrapers that dominate the skyline.

"Not surprising," he remarks dismissively.

As you watch him, a faint blemish mars the pristine image you've always held of Aventurine. It's a glimpse of vulnerability, fleeting yet unmistakable, like a small blotch of ink on an otherwise clean canvas. It catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

But just as quickly as it appeared, the vulnerability vanishes, replaced by Aventurine's usual composed facade as though nothing had transpired.

His sudden question jolts you back to the present, breaking the silence once more. "Do you think life is meaningless?" 

It's unexpected, a departure from the usual banter and guarded exchanges between you. For a moment, you're caught off guard, searching for an answer devoid of pretense or artifice.

"Well, if you ask me, maybe it is, maybe not." Your response carries a sense of introspection, reflecting the uncertainty that comes with a life spent wandering the vast expanse of the universe without a clear destination. "I've been traveling aimlessly for many years, letting my feet guide me wherever they please. In essence, I suppose you could say my existence lacks a defined purpose. So perhaps life does seem meaningless."

You pause, considering your next words carefully. "But then again, don't we all have something we yearn for, even in the midst of aimlessness? Whether it's something grand or seemingly insignificant, there's always a longing, a desire to attain or achieve something. And perhaps, in the pursuit of that something, we find purpose."

Aventurine regards you with an inscrutable expression, his eyes betraying nothing.

"What if that something is death?" he poses, his question hanging heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the conversation.

You allow the silence to envelop you, granting it the space to linger between you before offering your heartfelt response. 

"If one desires death, shouldn't they cease struggling to stay alive, to preserve themselves? Why endure the effort of self-preservation if death is the ultimate desire? It seems contradictory."

You continue, your words measured yet earnest. "Self-preservation, in itself, suggests a desire to continue living, to pursue something beyond mere existence. And in that pursuit, even if it leads to death, there lies purpose. For what is life, if not a series of pursuits, desires, and aspirations?"

As you continue speaking, Aventurine's attention remains fixed on you, though his mind is a hurricane of conflicting emotions. He finds himself grappling with a sudden surge of questions, an inexplicable urge to peel back the layers of his carefully constructed pretense and lay bare the vulnerabilities he so meticulously conceals.

The landscape before him, though undoubtedly breathtaking to most, elicits a different reaction in Aventurine. Instead of wonder or awe, he feels a deep-seated unease, a gnawing sense of unworthiness that claws at the edges of his consciousness. It's as if he's an intruder in a world to which he doesn't belong, a sentiment reinforced by his own self-imposed exile from the beauty and splendor that surrounds him.

For Aventurine, the harsh realities of his upbringing on a barren, unforgiving world have left an indelible mark on his psyche. He's accustomed to a life of scarcity and struggle, where survival is earned through grit and determination rather than basking in the luxuries of a privileged existence. The opulence of his surroundings only serves to highlight the stark contrast between his own perceived inadequacies and the perceived perfection of those around him.

And yet, despite his inner turmoil, Aventurine's gaze remains fixed on you, drawn to the radiant warmth that seems to emanate from your very being. In your presence, he feels the weight of his self-imposed limitations pressing down upon him, a reminder of the vast chasm that separates him from the world above.

As you stand bathed in the golden glow of the sunlight, Aventurine can't help but feel a pang of envy, a longing to inhabit the same ethereal orbit where you reside. But deep down, he knows that such aspirations are futile, for he is bound by the shackles of his own insecurities, forever consigned to the shadows while you soar amongst the stars.

He is nothing.

He ushered you to this secluded spot, not for another mission or strategy session, but to bid you farewell. The contract that bound you together, the alliance forged through countless endeavors, has reached its natural conclusion. Every detail meticulously arranged, thanks in no small part to your invaluable insights. Now, standing before you, he prepares to embark on the final leg of his journey, a path long contemplated and now irrevocably chosen.

Meeting you, sharing in the trials of your joint mission, has been a rare pleasure. Your presence, marked by spirited banter and unwavering determination, injected vitality into the often grim landscape of their pursuits. Despite the looming risks and the gravity of his objectives, he couldn't help but relish the moments spent in your company.

As he extends his farewell, he acknowledges the uncertainty of future encounters. Though he harbors a wish for another meeting, circumstances dictate otherwise. Your captivating insights and spirited exchanges will be dearly missed, yet he remains resolute in his chosen course, prepared to confront the perils ahead, come what may. 

"Well, thank you for your answers. Anyway, I brought you here to let you know that our meeting has reached its conclusion. You've fulfilled your role as my eyes and ears, and now you're free to go about your business," Aventurine stated, slipping back into his old mask—his facade.

You blinked a few times, absorbing his words. Finally, this chapter was over.

"Is that so? I'm finally free," you sighed in relief, stretching your arms with a smile. "Being around you was quite draining."

"It seems I've been a handful, haven't I?"

"Yes, you have. You're insufferable. So, you're ready to part ways then?"

"I do tend to be insufferable, I won't deny that. And to answer your question, yes I am. Thanks to your intel, my plans are set. You've proven quite reliable, considering you're a wanderer."

"Well, being a wanderer does have its advantages. I can gather information without raising suspicion since I blend in with the crowd," you remarked, nonchalantly shrugging.

"You do seem rather ordinary, so you blend well.."

"Excuse me?"

As you leveled a sharp glance at Aventurine, expecting defiance or retort, you were instead met with a sight that stirred a strange sensation within you. His countenance, usually guarded and conniving, softened into an expression of genuine warmth. His eyes, usually veiled with caution, now held an openness that caught you off guard. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing a side of him you had never seen before.

His words, spoken with a sincerity that resonated in the air. "How I'd love to be one. To be ordinary," he uttered, his voice carrying a weight of longing and acceptance. 

You found yourself speechless, unable to respond to the exposure he laid bare before you. Despite the complexities of his past and the challenges he faced as an Avgin working under the IPC, his desire for normalcy spoke volumes about the inner turmoil he grappled with.

Your own internal conflict is mirrored in the clenching of your jaw, rendering you unable to articulate a response. Yet, amidst the silence, a silent understanding seemed to bridge the gap between you. Aventurine's earnest gaze conveyed more than words ever could, laying bare the vulnerabilities he harbored beneath his mask..

Driven by an impulse you couldn't quite comprehend, you took a step closer to him, closing the distance between you. With a gentle touch, you extended your fingers and playfully poked his forehead, eliciting a look of surprise and astonishment from him. But what followed was even more unexpected—an expression of genuine tenderness gracing your own features, a smile that reached the depths of your soul and offered solace in its warmth. In that fleeting moment, barriers fell away, and you realized that beneath the surface, you and Aventurine were not so different after all.

"You know, if you really wanted to, you could just blend in and be ordinary like everyone else," you murmured gently, finally tearing your gaze away from him. Aventurine, startled, snapped out of his trance.

"Oh, is that right?" Aventurine chuckled.

"Yeah, it's an option," you replied nonchalantly. "Anyway, I should get going."

"So soon?" Aventurine turned to you, surprised.

"Yeah, got some other stuff to take care of, and my debt to you is settled," you explained.

"You wound me," Aventurine feigned hurt, gesturing dramatically. "Our last day together, and you're leaving so soon?"

"You're not seriously trying to guilt-trip me into staying, are you?" you teased.

Aventurine smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Alright then," you said, increasing the distance between you two as you walked away. Glancing back over your shoulder, you smirked. "Once you're done with your mission, let's meet here again."

"What?" Aventurine was taken aback, still processing your words as he watched you walk away. You stopped, meeting his gaze.

"Didn't catch that? I said, let's meet again after your mission.” you said firmly, facing away from him as you delivered your final words, arm raised in farewell.

“All you need to do is survive.”

As Aventurine watched you depart, his mind swirled with contrasting emotions. Your parting words lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the connection he feared he might never experience again. Despite the gravity of the situation, he remained silent, resigned to the path he had chosen, knowing that his decision to face his final gamble in Penacony was irreversible.

In the depths of his thoughts, a sense of acceptance settled within him. He chuckled softly, a wistful acknowledgment of the irony of his predicament. The weight of his impending fate bore down on him, yet a flicker of defiance burned within his soul.

With a shake of his head, he banished the doubts that threatened to cloud his resolve. This was his moment, his grand finale, and he would meet it head-on, whatever the outcome. As he stepped forward into the yawning chasm of uncertainty, he braced himself for the challenges that lay ahead, knowing that his ultimate gamble would redefine everything.

Survival or death—there was no middle ground. And as he prepared to face the unknown, Aventurine steeled himself for the ultimate test of his mettle.

Let’s meet again, (Name).

Aventurine's eyelids flutter open, a groan escaping his lips as he gradually regains consciousness. The world swims into focus, the familiar surroundings of his hotel room greeting him with muted hues and soft shadows. Yet, despite the comfort of familiarity, a dull ache permeates every fiber of his being, a lingering reminder of the ordeal he endured in the depths of his subconscious.

As he gingerly shifts his weight, Aventurine feels the weight of exhaustion settling over him like a heavy blanket, each movement a testament to the toll exacted by his nightmarish journey. It's as if his very essence has been drained, leaving behind a shell of his former self, battered and bruised by the trials of his own mind.

With trembling fingers, he reaches out, tracing the contours of his hand as if searching for reassurance in the solidity of his own flesh. It's a small gesture, but one imbued with profound significance—a tangible reminder of his resilience in the face of adversity, a testament to his survival against all odds.

As the realization of his newfound freedom dawns upon him, Aventurine can't help but feel a surge of disbelief coursing through his veins. To think that he has emerged from the depths of despair, liberated from the shackles of his past, is nothing short of miraculous. With his ties to the IPC severed, he stands at a crossroads, poised on the precipice of uncertainty, yet emboldened by the promise of possibility.

But amidst the uncertainty, one thing remains clear—Aventurine is free. Free to chart his own course, to forge his own destiny without the constraints of fate or expectation weighing him down. And though the path ahead may be fraught with challenges and unknown dangers, he faces it with a newfound sense of determination, ready to embrace whatever the future may hold.

Aventurine's body protests as he pushes himself upright, the sharp pang of pain shooting through him like lightning. Yet, despite the discomfort, he manages to muster the strength to survey his surroundings, his gaze landing on the figure nestled on the sofa. At first, his mind struggles to comprehend the sight before him—a flicker of disbelief mingled with a hint of incredulity.

But as recognition dawns upon him, Aventurine's eyes widen in astonishment, his breath catching in his throat as he realizes that it's you who occupies the space in his room. The realization sends a surge of diverging emotions coursing through him, a mixture of surprise, confusion, and a strange sense of comfort.

He watches you in silent wonder, your form bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, your features serene in the embrace of slumber. It's a sight that both perplexes and soothes him.

Aventurine's mind races with questions, each one vying for his attention as he grapples with the inexplicable presence of your presence in his room. Did you wait for him? Why are you here? And most importantly, why him? The answers elude him, shrouded in a veil of uncertainty that only serves to deepen the mystery surrounding your unexpected reunion.

Despite the barrage of inquiries swirling in his mind, Aventurine finds himself unable to suppress the tender smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. In this moment of exposure, your presence serves as an anchor of solace, a comforting reminder that he is not alone in this vast and unforgiving universe.

Nevertheless, Aventurine expressed gratitude towards you. Despite your indifferent demeanor towards him and your aversion to getting involved in troublesome situations, you found yourself in his room, patiently awaiting his return, even though the odds of survival were slim.

Aventurine watches as you stir from your slumber, your movements hesitant yet purposeful as you rise from the sofa and approach him with a sense of urgency. His heart quickens at the sight of you, a mixture of relief and apprehension coursing through him as your eyes meet in the dimly lit room.

Your sudden appearance catches him off guard, the lines of fatigue etched into your features a stark contrast to the serene calmness of your slumber. But, despite the weariness that hangs heavy in the air, there is a palpable sense of anticipation, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that binds you together.

As you draw nearer, Aventurine's breath catches in his throat, his gaze fixated on your every movement as if trying to decipher the thoughts racing through your mind. He waits with bated breath for you to speak, but the silence stretches on, punctuated only by the soft sound of your footsteps echoing in the room.

Unable to bear the quiet any longer, Aventurine breaks the tension with a gentle smile, his voice soft yet filled with warmth. "I didn't expect to see you here," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting them in the darkness.

You remain silent, your expression unreadable as you stand before him, your eyes searching his face for answers that remain elusive. Aventurine's smile falters slightly at the lack of response, a flicker of uncertainty clouding his features as he waits for you to break the silence that hangs heavy between them.

"Are we just going to have a staring contest?" he jests, prompting a weary sigh from you.

"You're finally awake," your voice was calm but tinged with concern. "How are you feeling?"

Aventurine blinked. "Like my entire body's cramped up, and my head's splitting in two. So, basically, like crap."

"That's because you've been out for weeks. You need to rest."

"Do I really have to when I've basically been sleeping for the whole duration of my coma?" he scoffed, earning another sigh from you.

"What I meant was rest like a normal person. Sleep in a proper bed, not in this decrepit bathtub. It's different when you're not in the Dreamscape," you explained matter-of-factly, rolling your eyes. Aventurine chuckled at your bluntness.

"Are you worried?" he asked.

"No," you replied flatly.

"Really? Then why are you here in my room, sleeping like a log?" he teased, and you grimaced at him.

"I'm only here to keep my word."

"Your word?" His eyebrow arched in confusion.

"When I said we'd meet again."

Aventurine's laughter rings out, breaking the weighty silence that had settled between you like a heavy fog. It's a sound filled with incredulity and a touch of irony, a reflection of the tumultuous emotions swirling within him as he grapples with the gravity of the situation.

For him, the realization is nothing short of staggering—that you, of all people, had placed your trust in him, believing in his ability to survive against all odds. It's a notion that borders on the absurd, given the precarious circumstances that had surrounded your parting, but one that now takes on a profound significance in the wake of your unexpected reunion.

As your gaze locks with his, drawn by the unexpected sound of his laughter, Aventurine finds himself at a loss for words. How could he have ever doubted the sincerity of your intentions, the faith you had placed in him even when all hope seemed lost?

"What's so funny?" you asked, puzzled by Aventurine's sudden burst of laughter.

Aventurine's laughter subsided, and he regarded you seriously. "I never expected this. You always manage to surprise me. Are you that determined to ensure our next meeting?"

Your expression twisted in disgust at the thought, which only served to fuel Aventurine's amusement. He laughed even harder at your reaction.

"It seems you're back to your usual self now," you remarked between laughs. "Well then, I suppose I'll be on my way."

But just as you turned to leave, Aventurine caught your wrist, halting your steps. "Oops! Just kidding. You really don't have much of a sense of humor, do you?"

You shot him a glare in response, but he seemed unfazed, his gaze softening as he spoke with a newfound seriousness. His words carried a weight that belied their simplicity.

"You know, I want to become a wave and run anywhere," he confessed, his voice tinged with a wistful longing. "Because even if I get swept away and get lost, I'm free."

There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that laid bare his innermost desires. It was a sentiment that resonated with you on some level, stirring something deep within your own heart.

"Even if you get lost again," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "you still will know your way back. You know it yourself, after all, you're still breathing up until now."

Aventurine's gaze softened, his eyes searching yours with a depth of understanding that took you by surprise. And then, almost coyly, he made a request that seemed to hang in the air between you like an unspoken promise.

"Could you stay here a little longer?" he implored, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that debunk his usual confidence.

Aventurine's touch on your wrist sent a shiver down your spine, his thumb tracing a delicate path that seemed to awaken a flurry of sensations within you. Despite your initial instinct to recoil from his unexpected gesture, you found yourself captivated by the gentle caress, unable to tear your gaze away from the intensity of his eyes.

As you met his hypnotic gaze head-on, you couldn't help but acknowledge the sheer beauty that radiated from within those mesmerizing orbs. Up close, Aventurine's eyes were a breathtaking kaleidoscope of colors, each hue dancing in the light like shards of precious gemstones. It was a sight to behold, one that left you momentarily spellbound by its sheer magnificence.

"What? Why do you want me to stay?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of confusion.

For a moment, Aventurine remained silent, his gaze never wavering from yours as if searching for the right words to convey his thoughts. And then, with a quiet sincerity that took you by surprise, he spoke.

"Have you already forgotten?" he responded, his voice a soft murmur that seemed to envelop the space between you. "You were the one who encouraged me to speak my mind, weren’t you? I simply followed your advice. But truthfully... It's because I desire your company. It's strangely... comforting."

You sighed, feeling the tension in your shoulders dissipate as you contemplated his request. "I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to indulge your request occasionally," you relented, a subtle smile playing at the edges of your lips. "I'll grant you some leeway, considering you appear to be like a patient in bed."

Aventurine's laughter filled the room once more, a melodious sound that seemed to echo with a sense of amusement.

"How lucky I am," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he savored the moment. It was as though he reveled in the serendipity of your encounter, finding solace in the unexpected connection that had brought you two together.

As the laughter subsided, he couldn't help but be curious about the circumstances that had led you to his room. 

"So, how did you get in my room?" 

Your expression turned thoughtful for a moment, as if pondering how best to explain. "Oh, I met this Doctor called Veritas Ratio.”

As Aventurine chuckled at the absurdity of it all, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twists and turns that had led you to this ending scene, here and now, with you by Aventurine’s side.

[romchat]

The Double (Ep. 17): Into the fog of the unknown

I'm not a fan of color theorizing, but they're really pulling all the stops here to communicate how different Xue Fangfei and Duke Su's relationship is, aren't they?

What I especially love about this visual parallelism is that while there's some similarity in the camera's framing, there are significant differences in the context and blocking of the two scenes:

The moment doesn't take place in an idyllic fairytale setting under falling blossoms but instead outside a seedy gambling den in the pouring rain. Although Fangfei might be drunk, she's no longer under any illusions about the dangerous world she has decided to enter for her revenge.

She's no longer dancing to her ex-husband's tune but instead forging her own path and reveling in the well-earned success of her life's gamble.

She doesn't feel the burden of acting like a demure and selfless wife and daughter-in-law but instead free to express herself (and, to a certain extent, her desires). See also: @songkangsbottomteethcirca2020's excellent analysis of Fangfei and Duke Su's character development.

SIDE NOTE: I laughed when she teased Duke Su (sorry, I guess we've graduated to "Xiao Heng" now) for getting shy at her calling him handsome. She can't admit her growing attraction without using alcohol as an excuse, but she wants him and recognizes his feelings too, which is why she gets annoyed when he rejects her for not being sober enough.

As usual, he gives her enough space to encourage her to think through the situation so she can exercise her autonomy and take full accountability for her choices.

What I find so compelling about their dynamic is that Fangfei might not be able to share the full truth of her situation, but she trusts Duke Su enough to have expectations of him. So when he confronts her for not only being dishonest about her feelings but also her identity and revenge plot, she still offers a small drunken confession:

Duke Su: I'll take you home. Fangfei: Home? I don't have a home anymore.

It's a just another confirmation of what he already suspects but it's painfully honest and makes her vulnerable. Yet despite learning more about how her attempted murder fits within larger political machinations at the Capital and how involving himself can affect his own plans, he still decides to side with her:

Duke Su: What coincidence. I also don't have a home anymore.

Unlike with her husband, Fangfei's faith in Duke Su isn't misplaced.

(Although I now wonder if there's any symbolism in the switch in costuming from her blood red robes to Shen Yurong's white. Will Fangfei sacrifice Duke Su in the future like her husband did in the past?)

Also, this gorgeous shot of them (literally) crossing a bridge into the fog of the unknown together?

I adore The Double's shameless sense of drama.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 17)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

When an invitation to Tommy's wedding arrived, it was like a tsunami of feelings struck your spirit, shocking you to your core and leaving you breathless even after it passed.

Deep down you knew, deep down, that you would never forget the consequences that would run through your family's very roots if you turned down the invitation to his wedding. However, in the midst of this profound insight, your contemplative mind wondered if the heavy weight of emotional turmoil that this occasion bore was truly worth the endurance and perseverance it required.

Your father Arthur had gone silent, not a word exchanged, for months on end. He did not know about your secret yet, namely that, several months ago, you gave birth to a healthy baby boy. In fact, no one knew other than Ada and, luckily for you, Ada vowed to honour her commitment of utmost secrecy to you, valiantly concealing her own penetrating doubts about the progenitor's identity, yet lacking verifiable certainty.

Two months had passed since her last visit, when destiny laid bare the truth before her very eyes. The arrival was an unforeseen surprise but, she has been supporting you ever since. Being a single mother herself, she understood what you needed and this was emotional support and encouragement especially after you told her that you never intended to carry this pregnancy to term.

By a cruel twist of fate, it was discovered at the last minute that you were expecting your uncle's child. Termination was an unthinkable option by this point and one that you fiercely denied as you had already carried your son for twenty weeks without showing. It was confusing to you having to go through this alone but, in the end, you managed surprisingly fine.

Then, after you gave birth, in the midst of a maze of people, you met a kind hearted doctor named Robert who looked after your son after he was born.

Rich and well-connected, Robert seemed like a perfect match for you. He was kind and loving, treating your son as if he was his own. He was a man of unwavering dependability, someone you could always count on. However, a sense of unease crept over you when he expressed his desire to accompany you and your son on the imminent journey to Birmingham.

Robert was blissfully ignorant of the fact that your son was born out of the covert union between you and your very own uncle as, for months, you had been entwined in a web of forbidden passion and secrecy. He also had no idea how powerful your family really was and that their illegal activities could potentially put him into danger. Thirdly, you knew deep down in the pit of your heart that Tommy and your father would never approve of him.

“Robert, I am not sure if you coming to Birmingham with me is really such a good idea,” you thus said cautiously as Robert looked up into your eyes with a hint of doubt on his face.

"Y/N, please," Robert said with genuine sincerity. "I will be extremely happy to become acquainted with your family, especially if you should ever feel inclined to accept my marriage proposal,” he went on to say, causing you to sigh.

"We talked about this, Robert," you said coolly, looking into his sincere eyes. "My heart and mind aren't ready to dive headfirst into the world of commitment just yet,” you told him before taking a moment to collect your thoughts and attempting to unravel the complex web of your family's past.

“You see, Robert, my family is not like other families. They have a certain toughness that comes from running those factories and gambling dens I told you about,” you casually disclosed, hinting at the lawful ventures conducted under your family's wise leadership, rather than their illegal and illicit endeavours.

Robert dismissed the statement with a casual shrug of his shoulders and said, "So what? They export machinery and take bets on horses”, causing you to nod. “There are worse ways to make money," he then told you reassuringly, cupping your face before telling you a disturbing story of young desperation. He described a terrifying reality that had occurred just the day before. Two frail spirits, who were both gently starting their fourteenth year, had fallen prey to the deadly grip of cocaine's seductive appeal. But even before his depressing words could fill the room, you spoke up, breaking the heavy silence.

"Alright, alright! I will take you to meet my family, but you need to promise me not to bring up stories like this when you are around them. No mention of drugs and no mention of...anything to do with the prohibition and...just keep it simple...small talk only," you stammered nervously, not wanting him to create a conflict within your realms.

Robert nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting the love he had for you. "I promise, Y/N. I will be on my best behaviour and avoid any topics that may cause discomfort or conflict. Your family's approval means the world to me, and I would never want to jeopardize that."

***

As the days passed and the date of Tommy's wedding drew near, you couldn't help but feel a mix of resentment and nervousness. The thought of introducing Robert to your family, specifically your unpredictable father and secretive uncle, made you tremble with apprehension. But evermore so, the fact that Tommy was getting married to Lizzie made you sick with nausea.

You despised her and, unbeknownst to Robert, you still loved him. You were in love with your very own uncle who was a dangerous man and the father of your son, whom he knew nothing about.

This incestuous relation had kept you captivated against all odds. You had often dreamt of the day when these secret encounters would turn into an actual romantic relationship, though you realized that this will never happen.

And there lay the crux of your problem – your undying infatuation towards Tommy amidst the growing bond with Robert, even after all the heartache Tommy had caused you. 

The torrid dance between love and hate played out ceaselessly inside your restrained psyche now, consuming you entirely again. 

On one hand, you never wanted to see your uncle Tommy again but then, on the other hand, you longed for him more than anything else. It appeared almost inconceivable how deeply enmeshed you were in the intricate snarl of these raw, fervent emotions. And, unfortunately, as much as you hated yourself for harboring these feelings, you simply couldn’t deny them.

Love or lust, whatever it was - it was intense. Every time you heard his name, every thought of him sent waves of arousal coursing through your veins, a constant reminder of your last few nights together before you were sent to America.

One night, in particular, was engraved in your memory like a tattoo and even though, that night, you were furious about his will to send you away just over elven months ago, you resolved whatever tension there was simply by being honest with each other.

That night, Tommy told you that he loved you more than life itself but, just like life, love wasn't always fair. 

Backflash...

In a backflash, you remembered how, just the night before you left for Boston, Tommy took you to a place had never taken anyone else before.

It was his sacred place, his sanctuary, nestled among ancient trees where memories whispered softly in the wind.

Located on long abandoned land which he purchased without the knowledge of his family, a Gypsy wagon stood amongst wild flowers. Inside, candles flickered softly casting dancing shadows upon rough wooden walls covered in paintings depicting scenes from his past. There, hidden from prying eyes, he felt safe enough to express himself freely and vulnerably. 

"Why did you buy this land?" you asked him quietly as you dismounted your horse and secured it against one of the large trees while looking around the peaceful scenery. 

Tommy's voice sounded deeper than usual, touched with emotion, as he explained his reasoning behind purchasing the land. "Because I needed somewhere quiet to think sometimes, someplace where I didn't have to worry about anyone finding me," he told you as he approached and cupped your face tenderly. 

His thumb caressed your cheekbone, the tenderness evident in his gaze as he stared intently into your eyes. "Away from everyone and everything," he continued softly, his fingers brushing across your lips. "Just one more time… let us forget about who we are, eh? Let's enjoy ourselves here tonight..." Tommy went on to say and you couldn't resist the intensity of his stare nor his touch, the warmth in his voice drawing you closer to him.

"Why do I have to leave, Thomas?" you questioned him sadly, unable to mask your sorrow.

"Because, unless one of us does, I will not be able to resist this constant temptation that pulls us toward each other Love," he admitted solemnly, regret etched on his brow. His eyes held yours steadfastly, refusing to look away, seemingly willing you to understand why it must be done.  

"Then don't resist!" you urged passionately, stepping forward to press your body against his firm frame. Desire surging between you two, like an electric current sparking alive every cell within your bodies.

"You know it's not that fucking simple, eh?" Tommy growled, frustration seeping into his tone. "You are my fucking niece and we both know that this needs to stop," he declared forcefully, trying to suppress the desire threatening to consume him whole. But instead of withdrawing from your embrace, he pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate, hungry kiss. It was as if the very essence of his soul sought release through your mouth, through your body.

As your tongues tangled, he delved deep inside, probing and exploring, seeking something neither of you fully understood. With each thrust of his tongue, he seemed to find a part of you, awakening new sensations and passions.

"Don't you dare push me away for good, Tommy" you murmured breathily, clutching at his waist, digging your nails into his skin.

"We can't go on this way Love," he groaned, sweat trickling down his temple. "I want to protect you, and the rest of my family," he insisted, pulling back slightly, yet still maintaining eye contact with determination. "We need distance," he added.

He pushed you further against the tree behind you, pinning you there as he ravaged your mouth once more, his hands roaming eagerly over your curves.

Swept up in the moment, you lost track of time, the space around you falling away until there was only him—his scent, his taste, his touch. As his hand skimmed teasingly down your throat, stopping at the base of your neck, the feeling of being desired by this man consumed you completely.

He pressed harder against you, the heat radiating off his hard body causing your nipples to pebble beneath your clothes. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you ground your hips against him, silently begging for relief.

"Please, Tommy," you pleaded, gasping for air, begging him to take you. 

Tommy paused, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain control of his ragged breathing. Gathering what little composure remained, he ran his calloused finger down your neck, tracing its curve towards your shoulder blade, creating goosebumps along your skin.

Reaching beneath your skirt, he pulled down your panties roughly, exposing your feminine folds to the cool evening breeze, sending shivers running down your spine. Your legs began to quiver involuntarily.

His hot breath tickled your ear as he muttered huskily, "just one last time, eh?" before unbuckling his belt swiftly. He then unzipped his pants and pushed them down, causing his erection to spring free, thick and hard, demanding attention.

Without warning, he pushed up your skirt and made you lift your right leg so that it would wrap around his waist, giving him the perfect angle to align his manhood with your soaking wet core.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him position himself. Desire, excitement, and fearsome anticipation melded together inside you, creating a potent mix of emotions. Your thighs trembled violently, preparing themselves for his penetration.

In spite of his best efforts to retain self-control, the animal instinct rose to the surface when Tommy grabbed hold of your ass and yanked you flush against his rock-hard cock. Then, he gave it a slight push, forcing entry into your tight, moist cavern.

"Ah! Oh god yes!" you cried out loud, welcoming his fullness with sheer bliss.

Feeling the warmth of his flesh spread throughout your entire being, you moaned, reveling in the pleasure you were experiencing.

Your head fell backward against the tree trunk as you absorbed the powerful sensations pulsing through your body.

Every nerve ending came alive with exquisite pleasure as Tommy began to move rhythmically inside you. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his rugged features, illuminating the raw passion consuming him. The air filled with the primal sounds of ecstasy as your lovers joined together in their most fervent union.

As the fire ignited between you both grew stronger, Tommy wrapped his arms securely around your waist, locking you tightly against him. He moved with deliberate precision, ensuring he hit all the sweet spots with each thrust.

"Fuck Love, you feel so good," his voice rumbled low in his chest, resonating deep within your core.

"Tell me how good my cock makes you feel, tell me how much you want it."

Panting heavily, you managed to reply, "Oh God, Tommy... I can barely stand it anymore... I want it so bad, so fucking badly... you make me feel things I've never felt before."

Tommy grunted with satisfaction, increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so fucking much," he said hoarsely, reaching down to cup your breast, rolling your already swollen nipple between his fingers. 

"I love you too, Tommy" you moaned as the pressure built up gradually, becoming almost too intense. Sensations flooded your body, culminating in a wave of pure bliss that coursed through you as you reached orgasm. Throwing your head back, your cries echoed around the woodland clearing, filling the silence with your rapturous release and, within seconds, Tommy followed suit. 

His movements became erratic, his breath coming in short bursts. Grunting audibly, he poured every bit of pent-up energy into the act, leaving nothing left for tomorrow. The earth shook beneath you, trees creaked and rustled, and birds scattered as the primordial forces took hold, claiming its prey.

Drenched in perspiration, Tommy cradled your face, tears streaming down his own as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"Promise me, no matter what happens in America, you won't forget our time together, eh" he whispered, a note of desperation in his voice.

"Never," you replied earnestly, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss upon his forehead. "Our connection runs far deeper than just blood. It may change form, but it shall always remain," you said without knowing that your forever continuing connection would be through the birth of your son. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

[fuckyeahmeikokaji]

Meiko Kaji (梶芽衣子) and Chieko Matsubara (松原智恵子) in Gambling Den Desire (鉄火場慕情), 1970, directed by Keiichi Ozawa (小沢啓一).

Scanned by me.

[one-flower-one-sword]

Sending virtual hugs! 🌸

I’m wondering about your thoughts on Xie Lian and how he views Hua Cheng and the Gambling Den.

He expressed to Hua Cheng his concerns about how dangerous it is, and let it go when he understood that he and Hua Cheng have differing views on the matter.

It makes me wonder how things would have unfolded if the man who gambled to have his competitors die or give his daughter’s life and marriage if he lost, had been able to complete his bet without interruption. Like how much is Hua Cheng involved in something like that?

Would that man simply have walked away with the luck he needed to get what he wanted? I can’t see Hua Cheng actively hunting down and killing those people.

But I can see him allowing the man the luck needed to make his desires come true - so not actively engaging but not interfering with the man’s terrible decisions - kind of like with how he dealt with He Xuan.

I’m not completely sold on that thought though…😅 your thoughts?

Thank you! 🌸

And thank you for your ask! I love talking about Ghost City :3

I've thought about similar things regarding the Gambler's Den, but ultimately, I think it's on purpose that we don't find out for sure and are left to wonder. Especially since, at this point in the story, both the reader and Xie Lian are still slowly uncovering who Hua Cheng is as a person.

When we look at this scene after everything is revealed, I think it's quite clear from the mockingly derisive way he talks to him that Hua Cheng did not like that guy, and I wonder if he would even have taken that second bet if Xie Lian and the others hadn't been there - he seems to have a pretty good understanding of Lang Qianqiu's character when be talks about him with Xie Lian later, so I can see him use that second bet as a lure to make Lang Qianqiu cause a commotion. Because then Hua Cheng gets to "discover" that Xie Lian and the others are there, which means he has a reason to invite Xie Lian to Paradise Manor, which is necessary to make that whole "have them rescue 'Ming Yi' so that He Xuan's cover isn't blown" plan work.

As an aside, though of course Hua Cheng is always happy when he gets to spend time with Xie Lian, I think he must have deeply hated deceiving him like this. It speaks to how much he values his arrangement with He Xuan and how vital the information He Xuan provides is to him - which is proven when right after this, the whole Fang Xin reveal happens. Without He Xuan monitoring what's happening in heaven and relaying the information to him, Hua Cheng wouldn't have known that Xie Lian got locked inside his palace and couldn't have come to rescue him.

Back to the topic at hand though. I think it's worth looking at the actual dialog when Xie Lian and Hua Cheng discuss the den because there's so much in there:

After some hesitation, Xie Lian spoke up again. "San Lang, it may be out of line for me, but I still have to say it. That Gambler's Den of yours is incredibly dangerous. Won't it blow up in your face one day?"

A place that allowed the betting of sons and daughters and people's lives, granting wishes for others' sudden deaths - it was dreadfully sinful. Never mind a little brawl; if one day the bets got out of hand, the Heavenly Realm wouldn't be able to stay on the sidelines.

Hua Cheng gave him a look.

"Your Highness, did you ask Lang Qianqiu why he had to jump into that mess?"

Xie Lian was slightly taken aback, not quite understanding the intent of the question.

Hua Cheng continued, "I bet he must have told you that if he didn't do it, no one else would."

He was amazingly on the mark, obviously having seen through Lang Qianqiu.

"That's indeed what he said." Xie Lian admitted.

"Then I'm the complete opposite," Hua Cheng said. "If I don't control a place like this, then someone else will. I'd rather that person be me."

Xie Lian knew when to back down, and he nodded. "I understand."

It seemed, although Hua Cheng was the sentimental sort, he also cared more about control and power than Xie Lian realized.

It's fascinating that it we look at what Xie Lian actually says and thinks here, what he mainly seems to be worried about is what would happen to Hua Cheng and his friendship with Hua Cheng should Jun Wu be given reason to actively start going against him. Which is also what Xie Lian worries about during this entire mission - what will happen if it turns out Hua Cheng is involved with a heavenly official's disappearance and heaven retaliates, what will happen if he's not involved and Xie Lian has destroyed their friendship by deceiving him. It doesn't matter to Xie Lian that Hua Cheng is a Ghost King and that they're technically on opposite sides - he's decided based on his own experiences and judgment that Hua Cheng is a good person and a good friend, and he's already at this point very protective of him. Especially since he's not unaware that the heavenly realm in general and Jun Wu in particular do not share his opinion on Hua Cheng, and the political implications thereof:

Jun Wu turned around. "Tell me, what kind of extraordinary character did you engage with when you descended this time?"

Xie Lian raised his hand. "My Lord, I swear I did nothing. Just, one day by chance, I encountered an interesting young man on the road, and we spent some time together. I didn't think much of it."

Ju Wu nodded. "Chance encounter, young man, Supreme Ghost King. Xianle, surely you are aware what the consequences would be if Ming Guang was to question you further and you confessed to this in front of the other officials? No one would believe you."

"Xianle knows," Xie Lian replied woefully. "So, I'm grateful for My Lord's timely intervention. My Lord, you're not actually going to interrogate me, are you? I wouldn't collude with the Ghost Realm. These are absurd concerns."

"Naturally, I know you would not intentionally collude with the Ghost Realm," Jun Wu said.

"I'm grateful for My Lord's trust," Xie Lian replied.

Xie Lian is definitely stretching the truth here with the "I didn't think much of it" part, given that by the end of his investigation in Banyue, he damn well knew that the "interesting young man" was Supreme Ghost King Hua Cheng, and then he kept spending time with him regardless. He's very careful about protecting their friendship by downplaying it and being vague, and further than that, he's very careful about protecting Hua Cheng. We've already seen this earlier when Pei Ming was interrogating him - Xie Lian even pretended not to know who that "red-clothed young man" was because he rightfully deduced that Pei Ming would try to use Hua Cheng as a scapegoat to get Xiao Pei off the hook. Then when Pei Ming does try to pin the whole thing on Hua Cheng, Xie Lian immediately speaks up in his defense:

"General Pei, let's keep things clear and separate. Let's not talk about whether the young man I traveled with was Hua Cheng or not. At the very least, even if he was indeed Hua Cheng, that has nothing to do with what General Pei Junior has done. A Supreme Ghost King might have the worst possible name on people's tongues, but not everything can be blamed on him."

I find it very telling that the reason Xie Lian is being so carefully vague is less so he himself won't get into trouble and more that he's very aware that if Hua Cheng gets wrongfully accused, no one will question it simply because of who and what Hua Cheng is. And it's that kind of injustice and prejudice that Xie Lian will always stand up against. At this point he still completely trusts Jun Wu, but when it comes to Hua Cheng, Xie Lian not only disagrees but actively disobeys, though he's careful about how much of that he shows in front of Jun Wu:

Jun Wu shook his head. "I should not comment on the friends you make, but I will say this: Be careful of Hua Cheng."

Hearing this, Xie Lian bowed his head slightly, keeping his eyes down and saying nothing. He should've responded with "Yes, My Lord," as he should have been able to say yes with ease by that point. Yet, for some reason, he really didn't want to say that particular "yes".

Hua Cheng likewise also understands his and Xie Lian's respective positions and is careful not to endanger Xie Lian. Like here, when he explains why he put up somewhat of an act of not knowing Xie Lian because there were other heavenly officials present:

"Since gege is here, why not come in? We haven't been apart for that long, so don't be a stranger to San Lang."

At his beckoning, Xie Lian let down the beaded curtain. "Earlier in the Gambler's Den, it was San Lang who pretended not to recognize me."

Hua Cheng approached and stopped at Xie Lian's side. "Lang Qianqiu was there too, so if I didn't put on an act, I'd be giving gege trouble."

Or here when he's content to be accused of having maliciously kidnapped Xie Lian if that means Xie Lian won't be suspected of resisting his arrest and made to look guilty:

Xie Lian finally understood. Shi Qingxuan could see that Hua Cheng had no ill intent, but on the surface, they had to pretend that Hua Cheng had only barged into the Heavens to collect his due. It would prevent gossip from those how might suggest that Xie Lian had maliciously and intentionally absconded. Hua Cheng understood Shi Qingxuan's intent and had played along. However, Xie Lian didn't want to go this route.

"All right, stop acting. He only came to the Heavens to save me. San Lang had good intentions, so why conceal them?"

Hua Cheng does this to protect Xie Lian, but Xie Lian likewise wants to protect him. This has ended up quite long-winded, but I wanted to look for more evidence of why I think that Xie Lian mainly brought up the Gambler's Den because he's worried that the bets could end up endangering Hua Cheng himself.

Hua Cheng sincerely thanks Xie Lian for his concern, but makes it clear that he doesn’t quite agree, and I think it's worth looking into why that is.

I've seen Hua Cheng be described as completely amoral by fans, but I don't think that's how the text actually portrays him. He certainly can be quite critical and cynical with his views on both humans and gods, but his reasoning for establishing and keeping the den isn't "I don't care what happens there" or "I want places like this to exist for my own gain". He is, at least from his perspective and based on his experiences, simply being grimly realistic about how if he forbids these kinds of bets, the people who want to conduct them will simply move underground and do their gambling in secret. So not only will these bets happen either way, someone else will eventually take control of such a place, and Hua Cheng doesn't trust that such a person wouldn't take advantage of it.

Hua Cheng isn't amoral, he just has his own perspective on morality and justice. He's also not passive and uncaring in the face of what he perceives as wrong and unjust, but he doesn't really talk about that openly unless prompted. Like here during the Black Water arc, when they discuss the scroll with (supposedly) the names of victims of the Reverend of Empty Words:

Xie Lian turned to Hua Cheng. "San Lang, you said it's full of outrageous mistakes. How so?"

Hua Cheng scooted over to him, they were now sitting much closer than before. Hua Cheng pointed at a few names. "These are wrong."

Xie Lian looked at the names closely; all of them were known to be lawless, malevolently evil tyrants. "How do you know?"

"Because I killed them," Hua Cheng said.

Hua Cheng deeply hates people who abuse the power they wield, to the point that he personally acts against them. I think this ties in well with his reasoning about the Gambler's Den. I don't think there's anything in the text that suggests Xie Lian is upset to realize that Hua Cheng cares more about power and control than he'd thought, just surprised - until he comes to Ghost City, Xie Lian has mostly been around the very laid-back "San Lang", and this is the first time he's encountered Hua Cheng in his own territory, where he's a Ghost King ruling over the largest settlement within the ghost realm.

Also Xie Lian doesn't know this yet, but given everything we later learn about Hua Cheng's past, I think it's quite obvious that Hua Cheng's preoccupation with the power and control he wields, as well as his contempt for those who abuse theirs, is rooted deeply in the trauma he's gone through. Control in particular is a huge thing for him for several reasons, one of the main ones being that as a child, he was repeatedly punished for things outside his control, and he internalized that pattern to the point where he now punishes himself for things outside his control, as is shown repeatedly when he decides he's failed Xie Lian in some way. But I'm going to go into more detail about this in my Hua Cheng + trauma responses meta.

Lastly, I think it's important to keep in mind that the text makes clear that even when Xie Lian and Hua Cheng disagree, rather than a point of conflict it's actually proof of how strong and healthy their relationship is. I've sometimes seen fans (not you) portray their relationship as Xie Lian being irritated with Hua Cheng's attitude towards others, having him either be somewhat grudgingly resigned to it or actively trying to change Hua Cheng's behavior. But when we actually look at the text, we realize that nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, the opposite is the case - Xie Lian is incredibly protective of him and repeatedly gets defensive when others judge and blame Hua Cheng. I'm gonna examine that in more detail in my hualian meta though, so for now, I hope this turned out a satisfying answer!

[corvus-the-trickster]

Honestly is it any wonder that Evie and Jacob gravitated towards Henry & Roth (respectively).

A month after their father's passing (at least according to theirs and George's bios) they're sent on a mission with George who seems annoyed by them both ("a successful mission then, in spite of you two") and then they go to London and (at least that we can see as an audience) Henry is the first person to truly offer condolences for their father's death, something that would resonate with Evie considering how much she revered Ethan. And then there's Jacob, who spends most of the game being insulted by the templar's (Ferris calling him a coward, Elliotson mocking him about Ethan, Pearl using him, the Earl of Cardigan calling him a villain and a coward etc) and then here comes along this man (Roth) who calls him brave and heroic and seems to genuinely like him and the way he does things (which is important later with Evie's comment of "father was right he never approved of your methods").

They're probably both still grieving to various degrees and are looking for some sort of comfort. Evie resonates with Henry who is kind and gentle (and we know Ethan was emotionally and physically distant from them) and Jacob resonates with Roth who shows him approval and praise and warmth, something he might not have gotten from Ethan. In a way Henry and Roth are filling in the gaps of what Evie and Jacob might've felt was missing from their lives. Except in Jacob's case Roth is more so what he wants rather than what he needs and it ends in tragedy.

This is long and ramble-y sorry. I just have a lotta thoughts about these 2 and I'm bad at articulating things.

Jacobs bio at the end also talks about how Ethan's death granted him freedom from being the watchman and that freedom aspect probably tuns a whole lot deeper what with his canonical night time escapades in gambling rings and dens. And what does Roth offer? That very same freedom he say desires. Maybe not explicitly but it's very much implied.

Jacob gets that freedom away from Ethan's expectations (be it from ethan, evie, george or other assassins) via that chaos from Roth. Even with as cautious as one should be around Roth, Roth still gives him at least the illusion of choice when it comes to the start of their partnership.

[justporo]

In between madness

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 8

Author's Note: It's been like a week since I last updated - I needed to a bit of a break from this and now I feel the creative juices flowing better again. This is still rather... unremarkable? We're getting back into safer waters and to more exciting stuff soon I hope!

Astarion and Tav catch a small break from all the hedonistic craziness - not from their own shenanigans though. From here on out it will be a lot of chaotic gremlin energy with these two...

Songs: Stuck - Thirty Seconds to Mars Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Rating: Explicit Warnings: talk of past trauma

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER ~~~

Having had enough of all the sinful shenanigans happening all around you for the time being, you both decided to get back to the ballroom – there was only so much of deep and dark desires that you could handle all at once. Although you couldn’t help but feel that you were of course much more affected by all this than Astarion was.

When you mentioned that observation to Astarion while you were making your way back, the vampire threw you a genuine tired smile. As you kept walking he dragged on your joint hands to pull you in closer so he could talk to you more silently as you passed through previous rooms. The guests, it seemed, had only become drunker and more unhinged since you had started exploring.

“Two hundred years of stuff like this is a quite frankly a long time to have your reactions dulled down a lot, my sweet”, he simply said – his voice lacking the usual tinge of playfulness.

You squeezed his hand affectionately before you replied: “I’m sorry, darling. I- I hope this is not…” Before you could even finish Astarion made a dismissive gesture with his other hand. Immediately you saw how his usual wit returned.

“I’m replacing tainted memories with more lovely ones as we speak, dear. For all that twisted shit going on here and all the memories it might bring back: I am still mostly thinking about that delicious strawberry that you so graciously offered me earlier, my heart”, the vampire drawled. His eyebrow twitched teasingly and his signature smirk was back also.

You would never get over just how quickly this man’s mood seemed to swing. One could argue that the term ‘drama queen’ would spring to mind.

Not even replying to his sultry comment you just gave him a look. He chuckled. And the rising tension of unwanted memories was at least for the moment resolved.

“It’s just… I thought I was more prepared. I mean, I’ve seen my fair share of messed up shit”, you continued as you left another room you had crossed before – the gambling den (and you couldn’t help but notice that cards and dice strewn about meant that some tables must have… tipped.)

“Absolutely, my love, I mean I was there for what I would guess was some of the most messed up shit. And if I may add” – he put his hand on his chest in his casually elegant manner – “I might even have been responsible for some of the fucked up stuff you’ve been put through”, Astarion gave back. The teasing tone was fully back now and his voice lowered for the last part until it was nothing but a whisper. His breath caressed your ear before he softly nibbled on it shortly – a drive-by reminder of what he could put you through.

You blushed and pressed your lips together until they were nothing but a thin line. This bastard just always had to keep going until he had you all flustered. You heard his triumphant chuckle.

You abruptly stopped and stomped down on his foot, catching him off-guard – payback! He stumbled into you and almost doubled over, making a nearby servant having to swerve around you.

“OWW!”, Astarion yelped and then hissed at you – his undying love for you temporarily put on hold. “You shithead!”, he spat at you.

“Yeah, just be thankful you didn’t put heels on me, you twat!”, you hissed back. He could change the mood suddenly. But guess what, so could you.

“What in the Nine Hells was that even for?”

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what that was for! Stop making me all blushed and flustered at the most unwelcomed of times – and very much in public!”

Astarion’s eyes narrowed dangerously and you saw in his red eyes that he was ready to spit back again. But he, surprisingly, seemed to think better of it. But your sense of victory was only short lived when you saw the devilish sparkle in his crimson eyes.

“Oh, this isn’t over, love. Far from it”, the vampire promised, letting his tongue roll around in his mouth.

You stared at him and realised you might have made a mistake in thinking you could take it up with him on that. You stared at each other for a while. The vampire did not falter in the slightest.

But then Astarion just put his hand on the small of your back and proceeded to push you forward. “Not now though, my love, my payback will come in its own time, don’t worry”, he said cheerfully and drew out the last two words. And you blushed again.

But you were trying to be smarter about it now and refrained from trying to resist. You didn’t need to look at your vampire to know that a feral grin had found its way on his beautiful face.

Then, the two of you wandered quickly back through the rest of this maze of a mansion while trying to avoid the incubus or the drug den. And surely only after a few more minutes you made it back to the staircase that would quickly lead you back to the ballroom. You had been silent during the last couple of minutes of walking. But not because you were mad at Astarion (you could never stay mad at him for long if you were honest with yourself), but rather because your mind kept circling back to all you had seen, replaying scenes and images like a carousel. And on top of that you could feel that the whole rush of adrenaline set off by all the happenings so far started to wear off.

As you walked down the stairs, holding Astarion’s hand, the vampire threw you another glance: “Everything alright, my love?” He actually looked a little worried about you now.

You nodded at him as you kept thinking and dwelling in the oncoming wave of exhaustion. Truly, an opportunity to rest your eyes for a moment and also sit down would have been nice. But you were also determined to not let up and let Astarion have the full fun evening he’d been excited about for quite some time. So you decided to just push on – bit of exhaustion had never kept you from going on when much more perilous things than your social standing had been at stake during your joint adventures.

“I’m good”, you answered and squeezed his hand in assurance as you took the last couple of steps and were standing at the base of the staircase. Other than servants carrying around trays to and from the kitchen like bees busy to feed and provide for their hive, it was almost completely and pleasantly quiet and empty.

Every now and again, guests ventured up the stairs. But again, you couldn’t help but notice that people seemed to wander upstairs but so far it seemed you were one of the few that had come down again. Seemingly, it was almost as if two parties were going on at once – leaving the guests to decide if they were willing to cross a line; and some might even discovering that it had been a point of no return.

You were already heading back towards the direction of the big ballroom, but Astarion tugged on your joint hands and dragged you towards another direction – towards where the kitchen must be and the servants kept crossing. You grumbled at him for just dragging you on but the vampire just kept pulling you on with a smirk and a wink (“so many people would dream of me stealing them away and leading them to a hidden, dark corner, love. And here you are complaining for getting special treatment? Tss. Also didn’t we just talk about how you wanted me to not make you flustered in front of others?”)

But he didn’t lead you to a dark corner or even towards the kitchen but straight to where you hadn’t even noticed another set of double doors led outside. Much smaller than the ones you’d seen before and when you saw that it was just some of the staff standing around there and catching a break, you figured that it must be like a side entrance.

Astarion dragged you outside, earning some displeased looks from servants. But they still just went and left – obviously being instructed to not mess with guests and treating them with the utmost respect; no matter if they deserved it or not.

You stepped out onto a small round backyard that was now deserted except for the two of you. The space was surrounded by high hedges and much less pompous than the rest of the gardens or estate. A gravel path led around a pretty boring fountain and that was already the extent of the decorations.

It was pretty clear, that whoever had built this place had thought to accommodate servants with a little space – but only with barest minimum, baring them even from having a view on the city. Probably so they wouldn’t get ideas of working somewhere else, down there.

But despite the dull surroundings you were actually grateful for getting to have a few moments of peace amongst the rush of everything that was this night. You had imagined that it would be a wild ride, but this had felt quite like the fever dream for some parts.

Already you weren’t sure if you had actually seen the incubus with his pack of thirsty adorers or the poet reciting his dark words while being covered in blood. You still felt the buzz from all the drinks you’d had so far but in the crisp autumn air it let up a little. Your head cleared – as if you had come up from a dive and could finally get some fresh air into your lungs.

A sudden and even more urgent rush of exhaustion overcame you now and you realised that you had been holding way more tension in your body than you had admitted to yourself. And you suddenly felt the need to sit down.

So, you did and watched how a very poor stream of water came out the top of the boring fountain and pattered down into the basin below. Carefully you draped your skirts around you as to not ruin the wonderful garment. And on a whim, you stuck your head between your knees and let out a muffled groan – a mix of exhaustion and the pent-up tension.

Apparently, this, all this had taken much more of a toll on you then you would have thought: from the prospect of having to go to this spectacle and having to put up with rich arseholes (instead of just stabbing them with the pointy end of a knife and taking their purse) to experiencing a literal carnival of sin that tried to lure you in at every corner. Having sat down, giving yourself just a tiny break, you felt a bit like an oil lamp that you realised was about to run out of fuel.

“So, that’s what ‘good’ looks on you, my love, eh? What does ‘bad’ look like then, hm?”, Astarion said with a teasing and soft tone to you as he sat down beside you on the few steps leading down to the gravel path. Some tiny stones crunched under the soles of his fine leather shoes.

He softly placed a hand on your back and let it wander up and down – from your tailbone up to the nape of your neck where some small strands of hair had escaped from Astarion’s attempts of taming them with some pins.

“I’m not made for this kind of shit”, you muttered, your head still buried in between your knees.

You felt incredible grateful in this moment for Astarion seeing and realising your need to catch an actual break for a moment. It sometimes still surprised you how incredibly perceptive the vampire was. And the way he was so concerned about your well-being actually melted your heart.

Since the two of you had actually been in a committed relationship Astarion had been nothing but an actual sweetheart.

Yes, you bickered like an old married couple most of the time but that was just part of your chemistry. Yes, he made you occasionally want to scale a wall because of his antics. And yes, he sometimes almost lost his mind when you were unreasonable and stubborn about something.

But you loved each other and cared for each other deeply. And that fact was so deeply rooted in the basis of your relationship now that you could honestly assure yourself that there wasn’t something you were surer of in your life.

And so, you were thankful for Astarion – yet again – helping you with taking care of yourself a little better. This time, by having you sit down for a minute and relax instead of forcing yourself to always just push through.

For a few moments you just sat there, eyes closed, listening intently to the pitter of the boring fountain weakly spewing out water and some clattering from the nearby kitchen while focusing on the pleasant feeling of the vampire’s hand gently stroking your back.

“I think you’ve done rather well so far, my love!”, Astarion cheerfully exclaimed after a few more moments of calming near-perfect silence and pat-patted your back. “You screamed at some pretentious people, were the most beautiful person at this event and yet still haven’t sold your soul away for some temporary indulgence and also still have all your limbs about yourself – not even to mention your dignity”, he went on happily. “I’d actually call this evening quite the success so far.”

The vampire affectionately put his arm around you and pulled you against his shoulder as he said that. Then he bowed down and pressed a small kiss against your ear that tickled you and made you wriggle in the comforting hold of his arm.

“I thought I was only the second most beautiful person at this event?”, you replied from between your knees but couldn’t help letting a teasing tone enter your voice.

“I mean obviously, my sweet. But that’s what I get for trying to be nice? For trying to put my beloved before myself? I was only trying to make you feel better, love, but if little white lies is where you draw the line... And don’t go complaining about my ego again then!”

You peeked from where your head was still buried between your legs and saw that Astarion had started to gesticulate in one of his dramatic fashions. He was clearly putting on an act to cheer you up – and you loved him for it. Also, it was working.

“Yeah yeah, you’re putting me before you especially in the kind of situation you want me to stab someone for you”, you simply replied as you felt yourself starting to grin.

“What art thou accusing me of, villain, ‘tis a vile rebuke!”, Astarion went on placing the back of his free hand on his forehead then looking at you from the corner of his eyes seeing you peek up from your crouched position.

“Also, I can very well do my stabbing myself, thank you very much.”

The non-sense he kept spewing already made you forcefully draw down the corners of your mouth to not completely lose it.

“You’re full of shit – and yourself!”, you threw in.

“At least, I’m full of something!”

“Did you just call me hollow?” You lifted your head up from between your legs and stared at him in mock disbelief while struggling more and more to not break into laughter.

“You tell me.”

The audacity on this insolent godsdamned vampire.

But then as you kept staring at each other, both grinning, you just couldn’t contain yourself anymore. Some more tension easily left your body with the companionable laughter the two of you shared then.

Afterwards a hearty yawn broke free from your chest. And as you calmed down you went back to putting your head in between your knees with a deep breath. You really wanted to get back up again and keep going but then again – just sitting here with Astarion and goofing around was its own worthy pastime. Your partner started stroking your back again as you relaxed some more.

“If it’s too much though we can always leave, my heart. Get away from all this debauchery and the pretentious pricks. Although we’d be missing more chances to make ourselves the talk of town by the end of this night. But we could maybe grab a bottle or two of this wonderful champagne and make our own sinful little fun – at home”, the vampire broke the silence softly after a while – and with a tinge of naughty promise at the end.

You considered it for a moment because the thought of just spending the rest of the night with Astarion who would also probably make good on some promises from earlier in the night was indeed very enticing, but…

“No! We’ve fought literal fucking Gods! I am not going to back down because some wealthy, privileged noble arseholes are being mean to me or can’t keep it in their godsdamned pants”, you replied with a sudden exclamation and lifted your head up, looking up at Astarion.

And you saw the glint in his ruby eyes and knew that this had been exactly what he had intended. Astarion – as always – had known exactly what buttons he had to push with you. He knew exactly that you wouldn’t back down from a challenge.

But he had incited something in you know. You wouldn’t be intimidated or taken aback by all this stuff – as you’ve said before: some time ago you would have insulted all these arrogant assholes and taken their jewellery in the process. And ruining the night of some more of those nobles actually sounded like a wonderful idea right now.

You stood up from your reclined position, straightened your back and rolled back your shoulders, lifting up your chin. Astarion looked at you full of pride. His chest positively swelling with love and adoration for his fierce companion and lover.

“Good, because I didn’t have a single dance with you yet, my heart, and I would surely be inconsolable if I wouldn’t get the chance once to show off my wonderful lady. We can’t have that, can we?”, Astarion purred at you while he got up from his sitting position and stood in front of you.

He put his arm around your waist and pulled you to his chest in a single quick motion that made you gasp. Astarion looked at you with a fire starting to burn in his eyes that immediately made you feel the heat rise up in you again.

With his other hand Astarion cupped your face as he placed his forehead onto yours while firmly holding you against his body.

“No, we absolutely can’t have that”, you replied as a huge mischievous grin started to split your face.

Astarion’s smirk answered you with full power and he kissed you quickly and passionately. You were almost ready to completely lose yourself to him right then and there on the steps of this mediocre backyard when the vampire pulled back.

His glazed over eyes from the passionate and fierce kiss quickly coming back to a devilish sparkle.

“Let’s wreak some real havoc on this party then”, Astarion whispered, quickly pressing his lips onto yours again.

The grin you answered him with was almost feral: “Yes, let’s.”

Tags: Tags: @aurasyn

@margoteve

@usuallyunlikelyfox

@hollowmasque

@worryknotdear

[an-aroaces-harem]

I find it interesting how different Kate reacts in concern of them seeing her underwear in Jude's and Ellis' premium ends of the current story event (VILLAIN'S NIGHT)

Nsfw-ish content under the cut

Jude's end is way more crude and sexual and while Jude is dangerous af, Kate cannot say no as long as she wants/likes what Jude's doing to her (thanks to William using his ability on her, ordering her to 'act on her desires'). So anyway, Kate turned up at the place where Jude is (an illegal gambling den) with a little something in her pocket which is a buttplug in the form of a cat tail (courtesy of Alfons, who else lol) and Jude wants her to use it on herself (I believe though that she didn't use it in her butt because no prep and everything). While doing that, Kate is just like 'please don't see my underwear'

And then we have Ellis. Ellis' end has more of a wholesome and cute atmosphere. Because Ellis wants everyone to be happy, he was worried about the other crown members being unhappy while under the influence of the full moon, so Kate suggested they find a way to solve or at least surpress the effects. They ended up at the palace garden where special flowers bloom and apparently, they have to do with the sins growing stronger, and so Ellis collapses. Of course, Kate wants to get help but because Ellis' sin is restraint (which she doesn't know btw), he clings to her and doesn't want her to leave him alone. And well, Kate actually enjoys Ellis acting selfish for once, so she just goes along with his whims and they make out in the palace garden. I mean, she even tried the trick of 'that doesn't make me happy' and yet, Ellis asked if they could continue. Anyway, Ellis holds her wrists and starts kissing down her neck, sliding off her blouse and pushing down her underwear and Kate DIDN'T EVEN FLINCH. Oh, and she found out what his sin is WHILE making out.

So, what I wanted to point out before I slightly derailed with Ellis' end (I love that man a bit too much, what can I do?), how Kate went from 'please don't see my underwear' in Jude's end to 'doesn't even flinch' in Ellis' end. As an Ellis simp, it was so satisfying to see how much she actually trusts Ellis and how comfortable she is with him.

[archiveikemen]

『 Villain's Night 』 Story Event: Chapter 2

Jude Jazza

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

(This is the place—)

My body had followed William’s command and moved according to my desires, and so I arrived at the gambling house Jude was at.

Drunk Man: Hey, kitty, you look adorable. Meow for me.

Kate: … Sorry, I’m here to look for someone.

The crowded gambling den was filled with people dressed up for Halloween.

I reluctantly put on only the cat ears Alfons had given me, and blended into the crowd.

Apparently, the place was not just a gambling house for Duel Betting, it was also a brothel. The men present were eyeing the frightened women locked in cages, as if evaluating their worth.

(... Human lives are of lower value than money here…)

While feeling disgusted by the cruel scene… I continued looking out for the man I was there to find.

(— I want to find Jude as soon as possible.)

(But… what do I want to do once I find him?)

(I highly doubt I’ll be able to convince him to return to the castle without causing trouble.)

Despite those thoughts, my body moved on its own and kept looking.

(What do I desire? Is it to find Jude?)

(I don't know what it is myself, and yet my body is following this “desire”...)

(William’s ability is truly frightening.)

Kate: Excuse me… pardon, but is there a man by the name of Jude here?

Kate: He wears a black coat, has a sinister look in his eyes, and—

I asked around while scanning the crowd, unable to find him, and just then—

???: You’re Jude Jazza’s woman?

Kate: Huh…?

…

Jude: If you accept my terms, I’ll spare your life at the very least.

Jude quietly put the guards to sleep and entered the room before crushing the jaws of two or three more guards, he then threw the overbearing and unreasonable terms at the organiser.

Organiser: … Hahaha. Hey, calm down.

Organiser: Withdraw from Duel Betting and human trafficking, then give you all my earnings… don’t you think you’re demanding too much?

Organiser: Didn't you lose only a few thousand pounds?

Organiser: Besides, your employees are the ones to blame for it.

Jude: I don't give a fuck. Accept my terms or die.

Jude’s glare was sharper than a newly sharpened blade, making the organiser gulp.

Then, a subordinate rushed into the room and whispered something into the organiser’s ear.

In an instant — his eyes took on a triumphant look.

Organiser: — Looks like you’ve got a guest.

Jude: … A guest?

Brought in by two burly men, almost dragging her on the floor… was Kate who laid unconscious.

Jude: — Ah? Ꙩ_Ꙩ

Organiser: I heard that she wandered in here to look for you. A very brave lover, isn't she?

Organiser: So, what do you say? If you take back the terms you stated earlier, I’ll return this woman to you unscathed.

Organiser: Hmm? There's something in her pocket… oops, look what we have here.

Burly Man: HAHA! Bringing this sort of thing to a place like this… she’s a surprisingly slutty woman—

Burly Man: — Huh?

For a brief moment, the man blinked in confusion as if he didn't know what was happening.

His hand, along with Kate’s unconscious body, fell to the floor with a thud.

Burly Man: Wh– AAAAHHH!?

Jude: Negotiation failed.

Jude: I’ll spare the boss monkey. We have much to talk about.

Jude: Everyone else can die.

< timeskip >

Kate: ugh…

The first thing I heard after regaining consciousness was the sounds of groaning and sobbing.

(What… what happened to me…? I’m pretty sure I heard someone call out to me, and…)

Kate: Ggh…!?

The moment I got up, the horrifying scene before my eyes made my breath catch in my throat.

The floor, walls, everything was dyed red with blood splattered on them.

The dead bodies laying around barely looked like human beings anymore, they were mere red lumps of “something” thrown around like objects—

Standing in the middle of it all, was Jude.

(Jude…?)

Jude: Don’t worry, I’ll at least keep your artery intact. You can't pay me if you die from excessive blood loss.

Jude slowly cut his blood soaked sword into the legs of the man who appeared to be the boss of the establishment.

Organiser: F- Fine… ggh, I’ll give you the money! S-Sixty… sixty percent of my earnings… ugh

Jude: WHAT!?

Organiser: AAAAAAAAAA!

Jude: You don't need ears that can’t listen well, right? Let me cut them off for you.

Jude grinned, as though he enjoyed the sound of the boss’ shrieking.

Watching the cruel scene in front of me, a feeling of fear I had long forgotten came back to me.

He was a villain who lived in a different world from mine.

(And yet… here I am, witnessing this.)

(I keep wondering if he’s bleeding from anywhere.)

I didn't know what I wanted to do after finding him.

But, now, I knew clearly what it was that I desired.

(This is like a regular occurrence for Jude.)

Even if it was due to the traits given to him by his curse, or because of a promise he made with someone I didn't know…

(For this man who lived in the darkness while putting his own life at risk, this man who was always pushing me away from that darkness… I wanted to do something for him.)

Tonight, the cursed people were even more dangerous than usual.

(And yet… all I did was cause more trouble for him.)

There was an overwhelmingly large distance between the two of us.

(— I’m so frustrated.)

I bit my lip and watched as Jude tortured the boss for the information he wanted — and he finally sheathed his sword after thrusting it into the man’s heart.

Jude: …

(... I think this is the first time I’m seeing Jude use his sword.)

The usual Jude hurt others, but he never killed them so easily.

He would always say that it was much more efficient to exploit them for labour than to kill them, because killing them would cause him too much trouble afterwards.

– Flashback Start –

Victor: That’s right. As for the cursed person, they find it harder to control themselves… something like that.

Victor: It’s a dangerous night for both the cursed person and the people around them.

– Flashback End –

The pale moonlight shone through the window.

(Right now — Jude isn’t in his normal state.)

(It’s too dangerous to approach him.)

That was what I thought, and yet I found myself moving closer towards his bloodied back.

On this Halloween night, the cursed people were going mad—

And I, too, was going mad with desire because of William’s command.

Kate: Jude.

Jude: …

Jude didn't look back.

My hand lifted itself and grasped his coat.

Kate: … Are you hurt?

Kate: —!

Before I could finish talking, my body was suddenly pulled.

With a thud, I collided with him and a shock ran through my back, making me gasp in pain.

Jude: Why did you break your promise?

Kate: J-Jude…

Jude: You know what happens when you break a promise with me, don't you?

Kate: … ggh

It was hard to breathe with his hand tightly gripping my collar.

That hand felt nothing like the one that held my shoulder and drove the strange man away on the streets of London earlier that day. It was cruel and cold.

Kate: ah… ugh…

Jude: Ahh, did you break the promise on purpose because you wanted to be punished by me?

Kate: …? …!

He snickered when I hurriedly shook my head in denial.

Jude: You probably thought I’d let you off with a couple of threats as usual, Princess.

Jude: But I don't think that’ll be enough to satisfy me tonight.

Jude: “Trick or Treat”... I’m not going to ask you that.

Jude: — Ready to be ridiculed?

Jude’s amethyst eyes glimmered under the moonlight streaming into the room through the window.

[akkivee]

my hypster magazine finally came in the mail lmao and man the special feature talking about how the world is coping without mics is very interesting??? like:

crime as a whole is at an all time high

within ikebukuro, the police are doing fck all about it so the bb have volunteered their services to making the civilians feel safe

ichiro’s been a mediator within more casual disputes, expressing his desire to talk things thru if possible, jiro’s got his whole high school as a neighbourhood watch and saburo’s set up a huge surveillance system to keep watch

in yokohama, the sea port has been particularly targeted and the report says the police and yakuza have teamed up to protect the flow of commerce. katengumi has stepped up to protect the territory and rio is keeping watch via satellite images and drones

in shibuya, dice complains of disruptions in gambling dens and the lack of real gambling has dulled his senses lol. he’s trying to compensate by making his own gambling game lol and he hasn’t been able to pay his phone bill due to lack of funds so he hasn’t been able to talk to ramuda or gentaro

curiously, neither of those two were mentioned in the article, save for dice using the section to try to reach out to them

in shinjuku, the day is desolate and the night scene is busier than ever. doppo’s company has been particularly hit by logistics nightmares as they’re haemorrhaging money due to lost medical equipment. (doppo’s boss has been accusing him of stealing funds and doppo claps back asking what exactly has he been managing currently lol)

shinjuku central hospital has been at full capacity with patients due to the inability to fend off armed criminals. fragrance has seen a significant uptick in patrons

in osaka, businesses have taken a sharp turn towards maliciousness, with scams at an all time high. sasara and rosho advise not to go out at night alone, and rosho, as a teacher, further explains that adults have a duty to protect minors, especially as a person who has been affected by scams in the past. neither sasara nor rosho have heard from rei in a long while, stating dh is on hiatus because of it

in nagoya, petty crimes are up because there seems to be a restlessness amongst them without the mics giving the populace the power to stand out. hitoya himself watched a dude climb up nagoya castle literally for the memes. the court of law has been barren as of late so nobody is being tried for crimes but he believes justice will prevail in due time

kuukou and jyushi have taken up patrolling nagoya in order to persuade others into not doing crimes and all three of them still practice rap battling together