#can you feel my heart bring me the horizon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aventurineswife · 23 hours ago

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Dear amazing author (you really are! I and my friend have always feast 💜)

If I may request something - may I please request the hugs and assurance, that everything would be alright? For Aventurine, Argenti, general Jing Yuan, Boothill, DHIL / Dan Heng (you may add more, if you want, I'd gladly read it all!)

Not only I, but also my friend has bad period of time... These last two months mainly... :') college in the last year is not funny, ngl...

Thank you sincerely 💜

(also Toki, surprise ;D no matter what would happen, we are strong introverts forever 💜🤭)

We Mend as We Go

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Dan Heng IL x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Vulnerability, Reassurance, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Introspection, Found Family, Slow Burn (implied), Mutual Support.

Warnings: Mentions of Trauma, Burdens of Leadership, Existential Doubt, References to Vengeance and Loss, Themes of Loneliness and Emotional Isolation, Mentions of Past Violence (in Boothill and Dan Heng's parts).

A/N: 😭😭STAWWPPP!! Y'ALL ARE TOO NICE 🧍‍♀️😔, ALSO I can relate with college... It's never fun but neither was school (for me at least) :') enjoy this! ;)

The moon hung high over the city, casting a soft, silvery glow across the balcony where Aventurine stood, his sharp eyes fixed on the distant horizon. Despite his outwardly confident demeanor, there was a deep unease within him tonight, a rare crack in his carefully crafted facade.

You approached him quietly, your footsteps soft on the stone. He didn't turn to look at you, but the subtle shift in his posture told you that he knew you were there. You stopped beside him, taking in the view, before gently reaching out and placing your hand on his shoulder.

Aventurine’s smile was as enigmatic as always, but his eyes—held a flicker of something else: vulnerability. It was fleeting, hidden just beneath the surface, but you had learned to read him, to see past the games and the charming mask.

"Everything’s a gamble, isn't it?" he mused, his voice light, but with an underlying tension. "No matter how many victories I've had, there's always that nagging feeling... What if it all crumbles?"

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a tender embrace. He froze at first, caught off guard by the warmth of your presence, before he slowly relaxed, a soft breath escaping his lips.

"Then we'll rebuild it together," you whispered, your voice calm, filled with assurance. "You’re not alone in this. Whatever happens, we’ll face it."

Aventurine stood still for a moment, his heart pounding with an unfamiliar comfort, before he allowed himself to lean into the hug. His arms hesitantly wrapped around you, the gesture more vulnerable than anything he had ever shown.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "You make the gamble seem worth it."

The night was quiet, the stars shining brightly above the peaceful valley where Argenti had paused in his travels. The weight of his armor felt heavier than usual tonight, as if the burden of his sacred duty pressed down upon him more than ever. He had been wandering for so long, always alone, always with the call of duty at his side. Yet, tonight, there was a crack in the armor of his conviction—a moment of doubt.

You found him sitting on a rock, staring at the night sky with a distant expression, as though lost in thought. Without a word, you sat beside him, the silence between you both comfortable in its familiarity. You didn’t need to ask what was troubling him; you could feel it emanating from him like an unseen weight.

After a few moments, Argenti spoke, his voice quieter than usual, filled with the kind of uncertainty he rarely allowed himself.

"Do you ever wonder if I’m doing the right thing?" he asked, his eyes reflecting the stars above. "I’ve faced so much... I’ve fought countless battles, restored cities, but... is it enough? Am I truly bringing beauty to the world?"

You reached out, gently resting your hand on his, offering him the comfort he often denied himself. Argenti looked at you, his sharp gaze softening as he met your eyes.

"You’re bringing beauty with every step you take," you replied, your voice unwavering. "It’s not about the battles or the victories. It’s about the light you share, the way you inspire others. You don’t have to carry the world alone."

Argenti’s shoulders relaxed, the tension that had built up slowly dissipating as he leaned into your embrace. His armor was cold against your skin, but the warmth between you was enough to melt the doubt away, if only for a moment.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. "It’s a lonely path, but with you, it feels less so."

The evening was calm on the Xianzhou Luofu, a rare stillness settling over the grand halls and corridors. Jing Yuan had long since finished his duties for the day, but the weight of centuries seemed to linger in the quiet moments, especially as he found himself gazing at the stars from his study. His eyes, sharp and calculating, softened as he thought about the future, the past, and the delicate balance he maintained as the General.

You entered the room quietly, approaching him from behind. Jing Yuan didn’t turn, but the slight shift of his posture told you he was aware of your presence. You stepped closer, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, the touch grounding him in the present.

"Jing Yuan," you said softly, "everything will be alright."

He chuckled, a deep, warm sound that seemed to carry the weight of both amusement and something more. "You say that, but you know how fragile peace can be," he remarked, his voice soft with the wisdom of ages. "How long can it last?"

You knelt beside him, your presence a reminder that he was not alone in his struggles. You placed a hand over his, your fingers intertwined with his, and offered him a comforting smile.

"You’ve kept the peace for so long," you said. "You’ve already proven that you can handle whatever comes. But it’s alright to lean on others too. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself."

Jing Yuan’s gaze softened as he looked at you, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. "And will you be here... when the burden feels too much?"

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, offering the kind of reassurance only love and time could bring. Jing Yuan, for all his wisdom and strength, leaned into your embrace, a sigh escaping his lips. He had known countless battles and victories, but in this moment, it was the peace of your presence that soothed him.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. "With you, I know everything will be alright."

The cold winds of the galaxy howled through the dim-lit room, the hum of the ship's engine the only sound breaking the silence. Boothill sat by the window, his mechanical hand tracing the outlines of the distant stars. His white hair framed his face, the black streaks almost seeming to shimmer in the faint light. His sharp teeth were barely visible, lips tight, eyes focused on something far beyond the stars—something far beyond the pain he’d been through.

You entered the room quietly, your footsteps soft against the metal floor. You had always known when Boothill needed space, but tonight, something about him seemed different—more distant, like the weight of his past was pulling him under. The bounty on his head grew heavier by the day, and Oswaldo Schneider was still a shadow, always out of reach. His quest for vengeance was endless, and it was slowly consuming him.

Sitting beside him, you placed a gentle hand on his. His cold, metallic fingers trembled slightly under your touch, a sign of just how much his humanity was still alive beneath the hard surface.

"Boothill," you whispered, your voice steady but full of warmth, "it's okay. You’ve fought so long, but you don’t have to fight alone anymore. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. You’re not alone. Everything... everything will be alright."

He didn’t respond immediately, but you saw the slight shift in his posture—the way he leaned just a little closer, his hair brushing against your arm. His eyes, those sharp, calculating eyes, softened, just for a moment. The aim symbols within them flickered slightly, as though they, too, were taking a break from their endless mission.

His voice was low, rough, as though it had been unused for far too long. "I... I don’t know how much longer I can keep fighting like this." The words came out almost as a confession, a crack in his usually impenetrable armor. "Everywhere I go, it feels like I’m chasing ghosts. My family... my home... it all just keeps slipping away, no matter how hard I try."

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. He stiffened at first, his mechanical body too rigid, but then, slowly, he let go of the tension, allowing himself to be enveloped by your warmth. His chin rested on your shoulder, the weight of his past pressing against you, but you held him tighter.

"It’s okay, Boothill," you murmured, your voice a gentle whisper. "You don’t have to carry everything alone. I’m right here, always. And I’ll help you find your peace, even if we have to fight for it together. We’re a team, and I’ll never leave your side."

For the first time in a long while, Boothill let himself relax, his grip on you steady but soft. The storm inside him had not yet passed, but in this moment, there was comfort—a fleeting sense of safety.

"You’re right," he whispered, his voice low, almost hesitant. "I’ve been carrying too much... Maybe it’s time to let someone else carry a little of the weight."

And for a moment, the stars outside seemed to shine a little brighter. As if even the universe itself was reminding him that he was not alone.

The stars stretched infinitely before you, the ship gliding smoothly through the cosmos. Dan Heng stood near the observation window, his eyes distant, gazing into the void. His posture was tense, as it often was, his sharp features betraying none of the turmoil within. The weight of his past, the memories of his previous incarnation, lingered like a storm cloud hanging over him.

You had known him long enough to recognize the signs—the way his shoulders would stiffen, how he would withdraw into himself when the shadows of the past grew too overwhelming. He had always been like this: detached, burdened by things he could not control, unable to fully reconcile with the legacy of his past life as the Imbibitor Lunae.

Without saying a word, you approached him. He didn’t turn to face you, but you didn’t need him to. You knew what he needed, even when he didn’t.

You reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath your fingers, but the tension in his body was like a barrier—one that you knew he had built over countless years. Still, you could feel the way his body subtly relaxed at your touch, just a fraction, but it was enough.

"Dan Heng," you said softly, your voice the only thing breaking the silence. "I know you carry a heavy burden, and I know it’s not easy to shake the past. But you don’t have to do it alone. Whatever comes, I’ll be here. You don’t have to keep everything locked inside. Everything will be alright, I promise."

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. He simply stood there, his gaze fixed on the stars, his expression unreadable. But you didn’t pull away. You stayed close, your presence offering the quiet reassurance he needed.

Finally, his voice came, almost like a whisper. "It’s hard," he admitted, his tone low, vulnerable in a way you rarely heard. "To live with all these memories. To know what I’ve done... what I was capable of... and still wonder if I can ever make up for it."

You stepped closer, placing your other hand on his back, your warmth reaching through the cold walls he had built around himself. "You’ve already done so much, Dan Heng. You’ve made a choice. And that choice is yours, not anyone else's. The past doesn’t define who you are now. You are not your past life. You’re you—and you are enough."

He exhaled slowly, as if your words had finally reached him, breaking through the fog of his thoughts. His hand, which had been resting at his side, slowly reached up, fingers brushing against yours. The touch was small, fleeting, but it was enough—a silent acknowledgment of your words.

For the first time in a long while, Dan Heng allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—everything would be alright. And as he turned his head slightly to meet your gaze, the faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice soft. "I... I needed to hear that."

And in that quiet moment, amidst the vast expanse of the stars, you both knew that, no matter how far you had to go or how many trials awaited, you would face them together.

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