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seelestia · 5 months ago

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✧ the gambler and his knight.

aventurine can't stand having his outfit exposed to the elements nor to the rude hands of clients that won't cooperate – luckily for him, he has you to take care of it all. { aventurine with a bodyguard!reader. }

⎯ fluff & angst. 2.9k wc. headcanons w/ some written scenes. the plot is vv subtle but it's there a.k.a aventurine simps for you (jokingly) but you both end up catching feelings (not jokingly). mentions of violence, death & russian roulette. pre-penacony timeline. a self-indulgent piece to celebrate this blog's 2nd anniv! ★

★ 〜 masterlist.

aventurine who graciously welcomes you under his employment with a game. just a little something to ease your nerves and get you used to his ways. you look at him with such incredulity as if he just fell and hit his head silly. he pays no mind to this – finds it to be amusing a great deal, actually. keep it up, newcomer!

“heads or tails?” he asks, flipping a coin in the air and catching it seamlessly. a routine for him, you would've figured from the sight. “that's. . . an odd way of saying hello,” you point out but your tone bears no hint of protest. he notices that.

“i've heard that one before,” aventurine tilts his head with a smile, nonchalant. “so what's your guess?”

“tails,” you reply without any delay. it's a mindless answer; getting it wrong this way would prove to bear less disappointment compared to putting actual thought in it. “heads for me then,” he whistles.

aventurine opens his palm. it's heads. you frown as if to suspect foul play—but you don't because you know about his notoriously good luck—and your new boss chuckles, almost placatingly.

“looks like i win,” he grins without a care in the world at all. “aren't you starving? let's fetch ourselves a meal, friend.”

a loss rewarded with a prize? you blink. with grace so in contrast to the whiplash you feel, aventurine walks past you with a trail of expensive perfume in his wake. obviously, he expects you to follow and you do after a moment's reluctance.

(this guy is more confusing than the stellaron.)

aventurine who grows quite fond of seeing you acquiesce to his wishes, whether serious or trivial. could you ward off those reporters? could you pour him a drink? could you play a game of poker with him? could you join him for lunch? you're always so professional that he starts to find some mirth in pushing your buttons (never too much). unlucky for you, he does it to be affectionate and lucky for him, you always say yes even if you roll your eyes every single time.

aventurine who trusts you with his credit card. . . to a worrying degree. when asked if he's sure about this, he just waves it off and says it'll be safer in your hands. seriously, this card has been in your possession longer than it's ever been in his. sometimes, he does ask for it back – only to drop some 200k credits to your account. “a tip for doing a good job,” he'd wink casually while you're flabbergasted beyond belief.

aventurine who finds it extremely attractive whenever you step in to protect him from harm. dealing with uncooperative clients is a day in his life, yet some are so brutish they resort to getting physical – but he has you to make sure their hands stay off him. a gun in his direction? knocked off before the trigger even has a chance to get pulled. reaching out to grab him by the collar? they're already on the ground, your foot threateningly pressed on their back as a warning. what a dashing sight – and thanks to you, his pristine outfit has been saved more times than he could count at this point.

aventurine who likes to call you his “knight in shining armor” teasingly. awh, you don't like it? he thinks you're more than deserving of that title with the way you always swoop in to get him out of trouble. if the thousands of credits he gives you aren't enough yet, won't a cute title suffice? “it sounds corny,” you tell him with a grimace—and maybe, yes—but he just chirps coyly, “dunno. i think it's fitting.”

aventurine who makes it his responsibility to check on you after a rough mission. credits are no problem, he'd even reserve the most expensive private doctor in the cosmos if that means you'll recover faster. sadly, he has little to no medical skills – so the most he can offer you is bandages. sure, you can take a bullet to the stomach and handle a punch or two, that's your job, but what about tiny scratches? . . .don't tell him you're about to reject his kind offer.

“what's your favorite color?” he queries, somewhat out of the blue considering the situation where he is helping you tend to a minor cut on your finger. you raise an eyebrow, “why do you wanna know?” as he gently plasters a plain-colored bandage on your skin (which he's only been granted permission to after minutes of begging you to let him do it).

“for the bandages,” aventurine answers. he finds no need to hide his intentions as he runs a thumb over the bandage, softly as to not hurt you, to keep its position secure. “so that the next time you ask, i'll have some in your favorite color for sure.”

“how. . . thoughtful of you,” you snort, amused.

(briefly, he resists the urge to ask if he can place a kiss on your cut for 'luck'. but if he does, you might have his head. so, he'll try another time.)

aventurine who slowly begins to find a sense of comfort in your company. maybe, it's the way you scoff at his quips with a smile or the way you always tell him to be careful. maybe, it's the way you take him seriously or the way you stay by his side—is your job description the only reason why?—or maybe, he's just pathetic and reeks of so much loneliness you feel sympathetic. he can't tell, but he hopes the luxuries he has can persuade you to stay just a little longer. even if you don't actually care. (you do.)

aventurine who notices how anxiety brims in your gaze when you watch him gamble at the table – with a sum too high to be considered sane and sometimes, his own life. he can see it all; how your hands shake as if you want to reach out, how your lips tremble as if you want to tell him to stop. but this is what he's made for, is it not? he'll survive one way or another. . . until fate decides the bill for all his past good fortune is finally due. and when the time comes, he'll be ready for it. (will you?)

a game of russian roulette.

it always starts with thrills only to end with carnage spilled all over the table. luck is the only thing worth praying for at that point and oh, is luck not the dearest friend aventurine ever had? hence the reason why he always agrees, not with a yes but with a “why not?”.

you're there as his protector, yet utterly condemned to the role of a witness as soon as aventurine nods along to that darned game. panic rushes through your veins as the gun is passed around so relaxedly, so easily with laughter all around. aventurine's next in line, you realize grimly. the next decision that comes after is spontaneous, so different from your usual calculated nature – you drag him out of the casino in a frenzy before the weapon even lands in his hand. in your head, there is no other thought louder than: he could've died.

“a shame i didn't get to the fun part,” you hear him hum from behind you, too disturbingly calm for your liking. the bustling noises inside the establishment have all but faded into the background. “that was close, hm?” he laughs, a sound you would've found endearing if this was another occasion. any occasion that doesn't involve teetering dangerously on the precipice of death.

you stop in your tracks and aventurine, behind you, naturally follows. your silence is something he first takes note of and the way your hand shakes as it holds his is the second. you still haven't let go. what's going through your mind? he calls out your name softly, perplexed at your lack of explanation.

“. . .why did you say yes?” you respond with a bitter question. “you could've died. you almost died,” you try to hold back a shout – yet, your words are spat in such a fusillade he feels a seed of guilt starting to bloom inside his lifeless heart. he discards it in favor of putting on a frivolous smile.

“oh, relax,” he lets out a chuckle, one that sounds so ignorant of the taut tension in the air. “it's just some russian roulette. why so serious?” he shrugs as if to physically brush off any seriousness clinging to his figure. his remark gives off the assumption that every single hint of your worry has flown over his head.

“it is serious. . .” you bite your bottom lip. he sneers in return, “yeah? since when?” as if to challenge you to give an actual answer. his life is full of risks, to say otherwise would be a lie. “you're sweet for worrying but you don't actually care about me that much, do you?” he snickers to himself. like the thought of your caring about him can't possibly be true, like it's all just a terrible joke.

but he's the only one laughing.

aventurine falls quiet and finally, genuinely meets your gaze for the first time that night. he doesn't like what he sees. your lips are downturned, unamused and saddened—you do care, a realization that has been left unsaid—and all remainders of levity in him are replaced by immediate dread. it only now registers that the anger, concern, frustration on your face are for him; they're the unavoidable consequences from caring about him.

(his eyes widen. no, no, no.)

“c'mon, you—” he covers it up with a carefree smile, as feigned as it came. he shoves his hand in one of his pockets. it's shaking. “. . .worry too much. you've seen me play a handful of games before. i've never lost a wager, remember?”

you don't look convinced at all. in fact, you look as if you've arrived at the brink of seething. “and if you do? for once in your life, you lose?” you prod him for more. for something, for anything – perhaps, for a promise that he won't do it again.

(but you know aventurine, you know there would be no such promise.)

“then i lose,” he says, final and resigned. “there's really nothing else to it,” he tries to offer you another smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “hey. at least, you'll be there to witness my spectacular fall, right? it'll be a show to remember.”

he nearly doesn't manage to keep up the façade. it's already as precarious as it can be. you don't reply to him this time – instead, you let go of his hand to wipe at your cheeks. his gaze trails after your fingers and it freezes upon seeing the pearly tears falling free from your eyes.

aventurine has never seen you cry before. you're always so stone-faced, so hard to break that he recalls almost cheering when he heard you laugh for the first time. that was when you finally won a round of poker against him. a pity, he would've reminisced about the memory more. . . if only the matter of losing and winning a game isn't as serious as it is now.

“don't say that,” you mutter, harshly wiping away at the incessant tears pouring from your eyes more than you'd ever allow them to. some make their way into your mouth, they taste just as bitter as your current frustration. does he truly value his life so little? you can't fathom it, you can't fathom him at all.

but there is one thing you were certain of, at the very least: “you hired me to protect you,” you shake your head unrelentingly, “so i'll do it. until you throw me away, i won't let you die.”

you've stopped crying then. aventurine feels remorse; the tears that you shed because of him are starting to dry. the selfish part of him wants to reach out and brush them away with his thumb – but would you let him? would this lead you further down the rabbit hole that is him? in the end, he decides against it.

“. . .i'm sorry,” he sighs instead, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. whatever it is he is apologizing for, he doesn't have a clue either. he lets his eyes slip shut. he can't bear to look at you, can't bear to look at his pitiful reflection in your eyes.

(he's not worth caring about, can't you see? he dances hand in hand with death – there is no need to subject yourself to being a spectator.)

the two of you then part ways that night with shallow pleasantries on your tongues. no inside jokes, no evident yearning for the other to stay, no more than an awkward exchange of “i'll see you tomorrow.”

on his way 'home', regret and relief clash to form something inexplicably hollow inside kakavasha's chest. he wanted to wipe away your tears—what a regret—but if he did, they would've burned on his skin and became another mark to haunt him—what a relief he didn't. and frankly, if destiny is about to reap his debt, he'd rather go with no regrets at all.

whether those regrets include you? he doesn't have an answer just yet.

(the name at the bottom of his contract with fate is signed as kakavasha. but you wouldn't recognize that name. not as him, at least.)

aventurine whose eyes can't flutter close at night ever since thoughts of you fill his mind more than they already do before. you care for him, you want him to live—all his fault, he allowed himself to get too close—but these realizations are rooted in too deep and refuse to leave. what to do, what to do, what to do?

it isn't supposed to turn out like this.

what he and you have is meant to be transactional; he'd be spared from unnecessary scuffles and you'd be compensated with monetary payment. he means to keep it superficially fun; for him to tease you with jests—so you'd stay and save him from the deafening silence in his head—and for you to dismiss him with that adorably annoyed look on your face. just some silly banter, that's it.

so then, since when are there rounds of poker where he'd coo over your frown when you lost? or the sound of your lecturing after he secretly got you a high-end item? or meals shared together where you'd bicker over the bill? or bandages in your favorite color kept inside his bedside table? since when do you start to care? . . .since when does he start to care?

think of something else.

kakavasha tosses and turns in his bed, but the soft pillows and blanket do nothing to quell these bothers of his. are feelings always this complicated? he places a hand over his eyes, tired and exhausted, and stares at the ceiling as if it could provide him with an answer.

but there's no use.

in a moment void of logical thinking, he reaches for his phone and hovers a finger over your name in his contacts. he is usually good friends with bad ideas – but not this time, he sets his phone down and lets out a frustrated sigh that only his expensive pillows are there to hear.

(for gaiathra's sake, he hasn't even told you his real name yet.)

aventurine who becomes awfully distant the next time he sees you. you accompany him to meetings with clients per usual, but it's different. . . he talks to you succinctly, not verbosely with that trademark grin of his. his face is bereft of the things you grow to like seeing on him. a sincere smile instead of one just for show, for example. but even that's difficult to ask for since he only speaks to fill the silence with empty chatter. he doesn't look you in the eyes either; you feel a pang of hurt, you've always loved his eyes.

aventurine who discards all thoughts of you as soon as he steps inside pier point to be assigned a project. a conclave between the stonehearts is a matter of top confidentiality and you, dutifully, are ordered to wait for him outside the office. though, he'll admit; your absence by his side actually does leave a gaping void—such hypocrisy, really—but at least, those pesky voices in his head know how to shut up when it comes to work.

“penacony. . . is diamond finally ready to do something about it?”

aventurine rests his left hand on the small of his back, fiddling with the clubs-shaped detailing on the fabric there. it looks like an act of idleness from afar, but anyone observant enough would know it's a way to subdue whatever nerves he wishes to hide.

he waits for the person in front of him, gazing at the purplish-red sky of pier point at sunset, to speak. for their next words shall mark the start of his next journey in fate's course.

aventurine who hesitates to let you come to penacony with him at first. but it'd be poor reasoning not to, since some might have a bone to pick with him as the corporation's representative. . . and he knows you'll protest to come with anyway. fine then, situationship discomfiture be damned – not even a second after he steps out of the meeting, his neon eyes finally meet yours. “so, how does a trip to penacony sound?” he announces with a confident smile. you blink, noticing how his lips are wobbling at the sides. you don't say no, however. (if only the two of you know what sort of ride you're getting yourselves into.)

— thanks for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. why don't we all sob over this man like it's a cryfest ♡

#hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x you #hsr headcanons #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #hsr angst #seelestial.inks #gambler & knight 🎲

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harmeu · 4 months ago

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GUILT

(HSR MEN X READER) (ANGST)

(GN!READER)

Synopsis: You and Sunday were dating but then you overhear him talking to those who work with him about how you’re just a pawn for his games.

SUNDAY:

Soft footsteps echoed as you walked through the halls of where your beloved boyfriend Sunday lived. Though a feeling of unknown dread crawled onto you as if warning you of something soon happening.

Click. Click. Click.

Your eyes lit up as you heard your boyfriend speaking to those who worked under him and you couldn't help but eavesdrop. The curiosity of how he acted when he wasn’t around you dwelling in your mind.

“It’s simple. I’m using them. They are just one step closer for me to get closer to my goals.” Sunday said with a calm smile, hands gently tracing his desk looking down at the men who were talking to him.

You were confused.

What were they talking about?

“Sir..are you sure? Aren’t they attached?”

“My so-called significant other is definitely attached. Though that benefits me. Much. More. Easier. To manipulate.”

You paled.

He was using you.

Tears bubbled up in your eyes and you held your hand to your mouth to stifle any noises of sadness that were threatening to come out.

Hitching and turning on your shoe you make a dash for it unaware that Sunday caught a glimpse through the slit of the door open with his eyes. His wings twitched in surprise and soon lowered as a disgusting feeling of shame hit him.

It was an oddity for Sunday.

“Oh dear.” He murmured out making his way out to find you.

Synopsis: Aventurine and you dated but when he bets you in a game everything goes downhill.

AVENTURINE:

You catch your boyfriend, the renowned gambler betting as usual. You told him his hobby wasn't good. But as if that would stop him. Eventually you gave up and just let him do what he wanted despite worry filling you each time he pushed a chip forward with his iconic trademark smirk.

“Babe..” You murmur out unease written all over your face.

“Oh! Hey darling~ this man just won’t seem to give up..even after I basically drained his savings. He’s penniless and now putting bets on things he doesn't even own!” Aventurine chuckled, holding his head amused.

“Maybe you should stop? It's getting intense, no.?” You worriedly whisper out.

“Oh no no no sweetheart. Once you go in. You can’t come out.”

“Huh?” You fluster.

“In gambling! What were you thinking of?” His smirk grew and became more toothly as you spluttered but it soon died down as Aventurine noticed that the man he was gambling with was slowly earning his chips back.

“You pull up a tough fight.” Aventurine spoke and you just knew he was going to pull an impulsive move.

“Seems my chips have vanished. What a shame. Yet I do not intend to lose. I bet..my darling sweetheart right here.”

You flinched at his words staring at him with a ‘did you really just say that’’ look making Aventurine smack back into reality.

“Oh..doll wait I didn’t mea-”

He got cut off by you walking off.

Ping! New message!

(AVENTURINE HAS SENT $1,000,000)

Synopsis: Dating Dr. Ratio was nice. Though he puts more time with other matters, neglecting you.

DR RATIO:

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend Veritas in a while because of him either studying, working, teaching others, or doing something other than hanging out with you. You're aware of his passion to join the Genius Society but he can work on that while hanging out with you too right?

You felt left out.

So you decided to make your way to his office excited to see him but also a bit nervous due to the thought of him brushing you away to work on something else.

You knocked.

“Come in.” You hear his British pompous voice making you crack a small smile not hearing it in a while.

“Veritas..” You open the door smiling but it broke as you saw him writing down something in his notebook not bothering to spare a glance at you.

“What is it? I’m quite busy.” He whispered out, still looking engrossed in his work.

“Do..you want to hang out? It’s been a while and I’ve been worried about you overworking yourself. And I miss seeing you.” You blush at your own words staring at him.

Veritas sighed, dropping his pen and rubbing his temples.

“Dear how many times must I have to tell you that I am busy?” Annoyance is apparent in his tone making your eyes droop in defeat.

“Oh. Sorry. I just wanted to ask..since it's been such a long time.” Another sigh left Veritas as he ran a hand through his hair and finally made eye contact with you.

“I’m doing work at the moment so please leave me to it.” He picked up his pen again taking a glance at you but his eyes widened as he saw your vulnerable expression of defeat. You nodded softly and shut the door leaving.

Veritas stared at the door, his heart clenching in what he just did. Guilt poured onto it.

“My lord.” He murmured holding his now aching head.

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azullumi · 8 months ago

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”know it’s for the better” ; aventurine

summary — memories come in waves and tonight, he’s drowning; the grief of his past haunts him and visits him in his dreams; alternatively, you comfort and assure him after his nightmare.

pairing — aventurine (w/gender-neutral reader)

warning — 2.1 QUEST SPOILERS (about his past)

tags — established relationship, angst with comfort, soft and kind of insecure aventurine, mentions of alcohol (he just drinks a glass that’s all), there’s some fluff if you squint, lots of metaphors, mentions of death, mentions of depressing and negative thoughts, all told and narrated in aventurine’s POV, i never proofread, 2.1k words ; one-shot

tagging — @toorurs !! dedicating this to you

note — this is what reading his character analysis, character essays, scene and dialogue interpretations, and his whole ass lore and dissecting each one of it does to you. day 3 of writing for him.

“kakavasha.”

he opens his eyes to the sight of his planet: seemingly empty, barren, as nothingness continues to stretch towards the horizon. there was nothing on this land but the stench of death and cruelty that lingers in the air—it was heavy, thick, as if the clouds were binding him down to the ground and forcing him to look at what once was. he could feel the ache in his chest, the feeling of familiarity starting to seep into gaps between his fingers, and the the lump starting to form in his throat.

he knew this place, the stones that surrounded him and the mountain that leered over him. he knew of this, was all too familiar with it—the sunken ground and disturbed dirt from when his sister knelt before him with tears in her eyes as she uttered her promise of reunion before she bid him her farewell (he’ll always carry her last words as if it was part of his existence). the memory plays in his mind all over again, the voice of his sister echoing:

“this is where we go our own way, kakavasha…”

“...this is a gift from gaiathra, and you are kakavasha, whose good fortune will bless your sister with success.”

“as long as you are alive, the blood of the avgin will never run dry. so run, kakavasha, do not be afraid, and do not look back…”

he could feel the rain starting to pour down on his form but he doesn’t run, he doesn’t move, he doesn’t seek for something that will shelter him from the cold. instead, he stands under the pouring rain with heavy shoulders and thoughts that seem to claw and scratch at him. no matter how much he tries to cover up and escape from his past, to run and run until his feet hurt, until he falls and crumbles to nothing, it will still haunt him. it chases after him; it hides in the corners of his room, behind the wallpapers, and amidst the settling dust and cobwebs, and it creeps up on tuesday mornings as he tries to revere the sun that once never shined on him. he’s always painfully reminded of the things that he has to carry—the weight of his sister who carries her parents, and who carries their parents.

“...the rain will accompany you, and the rain will bless you.”

the distant cries, screams, and roars all ring inside his ears but the sound of the rain breaking into smaller pieces as it falls to the ground that he walks on masks it all.

he feels so pathetic. the hatred that he has for himself continues to gather and manifest into his likeness to sing choruses of condemnation in the guise of shattered and broken praises that are shaped like knives, stabbing his guts and making blood spill from his lips (he doesn’t know what his mother looked like anymore yet he could remember the distinct smell and taste of iron as blood stains his skin).

“why are you all doing this…” he remembers what he answers to her sister before she walks off to her death. he remembers asking her as he covers his ears with his small hands—too weak and frail to even carry stones, much less move boulders. he remembers the pain, the confusion, the guilt of it all. he was just a small child who had too much to hold.

what even is the worth of his life? it was just merely 60 tanbas. even if he dresses himself in luxurious and expensive clothing his past self could never dream of having, it doesn’t rid of the grasp the ipc has over him; his shackles. the cold and harsh metal is not there anymore but he could still feel it tugging on his neck, he could still feel the letters burn as it engraves itself—death would have been a more merciful fate for him than being held by such cruel and dirty hands.

“kakavasha.”

aventurine opens his eyes to the sight of his ceiling. there was no empty land that is of semblance of his planet before him but instead there were the patterns, the walls, and the chandelier that hangs in the middle of it. he was in his room; the silence accompanied with the ticking sound of the clock strikes a balance between quietude and noise.

1:56, he looks at the time. it was still deep into the night—the stars cast its light into his room as it poured itself on the cold floor. there was a rustle by his side and he turned his head to look at you, peacefully sleeping in the comfort of his blankets and you mumbled something underneath your breath though he couldn’t hear it. your face scrunches for a moment before it relaxes into a soft one and he watches all of it happen; he wonders what you’re dreaming of.

unable to sleep—a heavy feeling resides in his chest ever since he woke up—, he slides himself out of the bed. slowly and silently, dare he might disturb your sleep. he slips into his slippers before walking off to the direction of his kitchen. he doesn’t even know what he’s going to do there; he’s not even thirsty nor hungry, he just follows where his feet brings him (that’s how it usually was for him, often aimless and wandering with no direction in mind, he just doesn’t where to go, where he belongs).

he’s not an alcoholic but sometimes he just seeks for the bitterness of the liquid—to replace the taste of blood on his tongue and momentarily feel what it’s like to have nothing on your shoulders; his hands are empty yet it holds so much. he pours himself a small glass, honey-coloured liquid spills into it and a few drops gets into the surface counter. he picks the glass up, swirls the liquid for a few moments and watches its motion, before he brings it to his lips and drinks it all.

the scent is harsh against his nose and the liquid burns at his throat. the taste was too bitter and he felt like spitting it all out but he didn't, he continued to swallow it until there was nothing left in his fill. he tried to think of something else, to avoid those thoughts from entering his mind: the plant there needs to be watered, that reminds me of the light bulb has to be changed, do i even have a future ahead of me?, the painting there is slightly out of place, am i even supposed to survive?, are you still in his room?

he wonders if you’re still tucked in his sheets, if you’re still sleeping in his bed, he wonders what you were dreaming of that got you mumbling and knitting your eyebrows, he wonders when you’ll walk away from him after you realize how ugly and utterly worthless he actually is.

“‘rine?” a voice calls out to him along with the light sound of approaching footsteps. as soon as you enter the kitchen, you are greeted by the sight of him: an empty glass in his hand with a newly-opened bottle of alcohol in front of him. it was currently 2 in the morning, your lover was missing from your side when you woke up but you found him drinking alone in the kitchen.

“what’s wrong, my love? are you okay?” you ask, worry following your tone as you spoke. but aventurine remains silent. he can’t tell you his thoughts, of the overwhelming despair that drags him back down to his misery, and it’s not because he doesn't want to but he can’t—it would break your heart.

(and you know his silence too well. you didn’t carve yourself inside his heart just for nothing, you didn’t consume his flesh to not know the humming of his thoughts inside his chest.)

“you know you can tell me anything, right?” you didn’t care that he’ll break your heart. you wanted all of him and that includes his hatred and anger. if it makes him feel better, break it, shatter it into pieces and you’ll keep on picking yourself up for him. even if you don’t have the ability to stop the downpour, you’ll walk with him through the rain.

after what seems to be moments of hesitation coming from him, he shuffles from his seat and approaches where you stood. and he lets himself fall and crumble for you to catch him in your embrace—he feels safe, he feels okay but the grief, misery, and guilt still tugs at his heart ever so often as it beats.

(“where do i put all of this grief?” he asked you once while you admired the stars with him. “you hold them until it turns to love.”)

you caress his back softly, a small act of comfort as you cradled him in your arms. he doesn’t put all of his weight on you but he pulls you close and buries his face on the crook of your neck, heaving out a sigh as he did; you let him, let him whisper his worries and write his thoughts on your skin.

“did you have a nightmare again?”

“…not really.” the faint smell of alcohol wafts to your nose as he speaks. “i just…”

“it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“i’m sorry.” he says and you didn’t fail to notice the crack in his voice and the feeling of something warm and wet on your skin. you hold him closer, tighter, and you brush your hand against his hair, tangling your fingers in his soft locks.

“you have nothing to apologize for. it’s not your fault, kakavasha. nothing is ever going to be your fault.”

“it feels like it does.”

“no, no, my love… you were just a child. you did all that you can to survive and fulfill your promise.”

you start to gently sway him into the melody of your hum and he follows your form like the wind would on your hair. this continues for long until he’ll let go—you’ll hold him for as long as he wants to if it would lessen his burdens.

“i wouldn’t love you any less nor will i think of you as worthless.”

he has days likes this, days where he contemplates and thinks of everything, days where he doesn’t know what to do or what to say, days where he feels like he never changed and he’s still the same weak child who walked away from his sister instead of begging and asking her to go with him (the survivor’s guilt goes hard), days where it feels like everything is falling apart and he’s left on his own again, days where all he wants to do is to just cry in your shoulder—

“are you feeling better?” you ask him as he lifts his head from your shoulder; dry tears are left like trails of stars on his features. you cup both of his cheeks and wipe away the remnants of his misery and ache.

“mhm, a little bit.” he nods and you beckon him closer to your lips just so you could kiss his forehead before peppering his whole face.

—but there are days of warmth and sunlight. days where it all feels a little bit bearable and he can breath, days where every step he takes isn’t heavy, days where he could taste the kindness of the sun on his lips, days where he wakes up with you by his side and thinks he could have this forever, days where he could hear his mother’s lullaby that would comfort him, days where he could hear his sister’s voice telling him that she’s proud of how far he have come, days where everything feels okay and worth it.

years of these little bits of happiness—in silence, in chaos, in tranquility, in destruction—he wants a lifetime of it with you. and though kakavasha was never a greedy man, the ache, the yearning, and craving for those moments with you fills the empty spaces of his thoughts; you looked like what peaceful dreams are made of.

“i love you.” he knows that you know that already, he just thought he’d say it again.

#aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai imagines #honkai x reader #honkai #hsr aventurine x reader #hsr x you #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #aventurine imagines #aventurine x you #aventurine #star rail aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine angst #honkai x you #honkai star rail x you #azul.writes

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felibrary · 8 months ago

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wish you were sober

synopsis: in which you drunkenly confess to aventurine and he doesn’t believe you, rather believing that he’s not worthy, less even deserving of your love. despite that, his insecurity, you're under the belief that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. love - something that you want to introduce to him and show him “what it means to love you.”

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 2.3k (i’ve gone insane) | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol; they're both drunk, insecure aventurine, unestablished relationship, they label themself as friends but reader barely knows anything abt him LMFAO, dual pov, DO YALL GET THE REFERENCE IN THE SYNOPSIS LMFAO??, rushed ending icl, half assed-ly proofread; oneshot

a/n: yesterday i listened to wish you were sober by conan gray and was like “damn.. this’d fit sunday” but then i asked azul what he thinks cause i couldn’t decide between su**day and <aventurine3. and they replied with that it’d be so much more angsty with aventurine (okay not quote on quote but you get the msg) and i dislike su**ay anyway!! so boom! (y’all are still getting another sunday fic..yay..ig.....)

tags: beloved @azullumi <3 and @cherieiu (stop punching me)

“i love you.”

your confession doesn't come over as surprising for aventurine, he anticipated it. just like how the ebb awaits the flood, yearning for it but disappearing as soon as it arrives. missing out on each other for just a split second, as the other party sweeps and slips away from the grasp of the other. nevertheless aventurine is glued to his seat on the rich sofa.

colorful poker chips are splattered around the rich mahogany floor tiles, bottles of vodka and wine, some already with their cork removed and empty, others who haven't even been opened yet. a chandelier adorning the ceiling of the big room, its lightbulbs glowing dimly in the caliginous room, illuminating it.

one of the lamps flickers while the others continue to shine brightly - too brightly aventurine thinks, if he were to watch them any longer he’d feel like melting. the closer he got to you the sun, the deeper he'd fall into the bottomless pit he managed to crawl out of.

the room reeks of alcohol. is the temperature rising? he feels like every time the last number on the digital clock changes the warmer it gets. his blond bangs stick to his forehead and beads of sweat are running down his flushed cheeks - that answers his question.

it’s hot - humid even. he's not sure if he's able to bear the heat in this narrow atmosphere any longer. he tries to blow the sweat away by waving at his face with his hand, trying to cool off his face - a futile attempt. god, what's this a/c even good for, if it can't do it's damn job.

he opens his mouth with the intent of wanting to say that you're lying, that you shouldn't say stuff like that when you're drunk and that you'll regret later. but he doesn't, he refrains from doing so. instead he gulps down the words immediately, letter for letter. they're a bitter pillow to swallow. flowing down his throat like the wavering water running down a stream - intoxicating, similar to the alcoholic liquid you've downed.

the blond looks at you through half lidded eyes. you lift yourself off the ground, he takes notice that you have a hard time doing so, legs slightly trembling as you remove them from the floor tiles. (you've always been a lightweight he thinks)

as you make your way over to him, standing up and wanting to sit yourself next to him on the large black leather sofa. you clumsily bump against one of the almost empty shot glasses that still lies on the floor. tripping over the small glass as your foot comes in contact with it. the glass that still contained some of the red wine you've poured in, not too long ago, tumbles as easily as a domino tile, falling upon the smallest touch. making the flimsy piece immediately meet the ground.

it breaks into a few sharp shards and the remaining alcohol starts seeping out of it, staining your once white socks with crimson colored alcohol. “ah m’sorry!” you mumble as you quickly bend down to gingerly pick up the fragments, placing them in the palm of your hand carefully, so that they won't cut you and leave slits.

aventurine takes another peek at you as you tidy up. your face is flushed, your cheeks tinted in a bright red and you let out incoherent sorrys, blabbering incomplete phrases. he wants to tell you that it's alright. that he feels the same and reciprocates yours feelings, that you don't have to apologize and he'll help you.

but he freezes.

the words that he wants to tell you, the ones he's been longing to say don't leave his mouth. neither does he move. instead he coughs, continuing to watch you while you clean up. a tissue has found its way into your right hand, helping you soak up the alcohol. (its his hand that should be intertwined with yours, not the tissue)

his throat hurts.

(he's not in the right mindspace to acknowledge if it's because of you - the unsaid words that he didn't reveal to you yet or because of the alcohol.)

it's dry and lacks any kind of refreshing liquid that'd quench the drought that occurs in his throat. he contemplates, thinking about the choices he has. swallowing down his own spit isn't worth it, it makes his throat burn even more.

he comes to the decision to pour himself another glass of alcohol. (debatably his worst decision until now.)

twirling the almost translucent liquid in his glass, before fully gulping it down in one go. a bit of the alcohol escapes the depths of his mouth, running down his chin and messily staining his porcelain-like skin.

he doesn't like the bitter taste, he can't seem to befriend himself with it. (neither can he befriend him with himself) although it's not the worst, he's just not able to find a reason to like it. after all, after a single sip it starts to sting as it enters his mouth.

the scent isn't great either, it smells strong, too strong for his liking, a scent that reeks of cleaning detergent and not to mention, it prickles on his tongue and burns as it slides down his throat when it makes its way into his blood. but there's one thing aventurine can't deny: it's efficiency.

it fulfills its purpose well making him lightheaded and dizzy, to the point of forgetting everything.

all sounds are drowned out. even the lame pop songs playlist you turned on because you insisted that “it'll set the right mood” is barely audible for him now. his ears hurt hellish, he wants to put his hands over his ears to escape the white noise. the sound that plays in his ears is similar to the one of when an airplane starts boarding - an unpleasant noise.

the only sound that remains for aventurine’s slightly drunk state is your voice. it echoes through his ears. your drunk confession playing over and over in his mind like a broken record, anticipating the day it'll be fixed, so the misery it is in ceases.

his sloppy and sluggish movements - the way his hands tremble as he pours himself another glass, the nervousness that forms inside his body and the blush that spreads as quickly as a wildfire on his cheeks - they're tormenting him, and he blames none other than the alcohol for it.

“a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, drunk words are sober thoughts, when you're drunk you reveal your true desires” his ass. the both of you are just friends. friends that are acquainted through work, nothing more, nothing less. aventurine couldn't bear to lose his only friend, after all he's already lost everything.

(anything he'd never want to lose will eventually be lost. it is as if fate had decided that everything that is worth wanting, everything that he wants to have and keep, will be lost the moment he gets his fingers on it. to aventurine there’s nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life that is full of anguish.)

his father whom he never got to meet, his mother and sister whom he was forced to leave behind and kakavasha, his younger self. all will be lost - everything was lost. if he wasn't careful now, one slip up on the thin ice or feet accidentally trampling over the floor full of eggshells, he'd not only lose himself in the process, but you too. his one and only friend.

crossing this line he set for himself, as he drew it along the earthy ground with his calloused fingers, trembling as they traced over the mud.

walking past the border that was created to keep everything and everyone distant from him, as he stood on the other side turning his back from the world, walking away and waving, to bid his goodbye from them.

the wall he built around him to shield him from the world, protecting everyone from the ugly thing that was kept inside , protecting himself from the people that only want to torment him.

forgetting all of these things, leaving them behind for you would mean showing you who he really was. a frail human being that hides himself behind a mask. the theater curtains revealing the person who played the role of the man who had called himself aventurine for the past years. placing him in the spotlight and giving the audience a show they'll never forget, like the fool he is.

aventurine doesn't think that he is loveable, that he's undeserving of love - your love.

you think that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. providing him with said love, embracing him and showing him how pure love can be.

the blond caught your eye right away. he was charming, funny and handsome. aventurine turned into your little work crush, your motivation to convince yourself just to see him.

the road was rocky and full of obstacles, set up by none other than aventurine. it gave you a better perception of who he really was and it intrigued you even more. why does he hide himself away from the world? why does he convince himself to not get anyone close to him even though he longs for the touch of another person? who is aventurine, really?

you can't answer any of these questions and neither are you certain if aventurine really can but that doesn't stop you. you continue to climb up all the way to know who he is, who the person you fell in love with really is.

love, is weird isn't it? it comes in all different shapes and forms.

if someone were to ask you why you like him, you wouldn't know how to answer, because neither do you know.

but nevertheless you still like him. why? how come you like someone that you don't even know, someone that is foreign to you, almost like a stranger. even though the both of you label yourself as “friends.”

you're not sure what the color is that infuses his irises, he keeps them hidden beneath his glasses. despite that, you long to stare into his eyes and let all the plain and dull parts of your life get painted in the same colors of his hues. a color that brings you comfort and cures your sorrow. it's the hues that you want to stare at as you tuck a golden strand of hair behind his ear, in return he grants you a small but genuine smile.

a smile that you want to see more often, one that you want to keep for yourself.

as for his scent, every person has their own unique and special scent. you plead to the gods above that he’ll let you bury your head into the crook of his neck and absorb his smell so it becomes the only scent that lingers around your nose.

there are so many more things that you want to know about him but you're unaware of. one might say that you're odd for liking - no, loving someone that you barely know.

a stranger, a foreign person whom you know little about to almost nothing about, is the person that you love. absurd isn't it? but love is weird, love can be pure and ridiculous, but it can also be painful and heart wrenching. love is a feeling that not only brings joy to oneself but also causes pain. but it's a feeling that you never want to get rid of - not until you introduced aventurine to it. showing him what love has to offer and has in store.

in the iridescent light aventurine remains to look as ethereal as ever. a scent of vodka lingers around aventurines figure, the smell is strong, but you couldn't care less. his hair is disheveled but nevertheless continues to shine in the dazzling light. he lets out a tiring yawn and you couldn't imagine aventurine any more beautiful than in this moment.

vulnerable and for your eyes only. making it unable for you to tear your gaze away from the sight before you.

he's like a shooting star, if you don't continue to watch and follow it and blink, even if it's just for a single moment - it's all over and you'll never see it again.

“stop looking at me like that.” aventurine mumbles quietly, almost whispering. upon hearing that, you make your way over to him, glass shards long forgotten as you place them on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.

your arms reach out to aventurine, clutching your hands on his shoulders. your grip is sluggish but you don't falter and continue to hold him. “like what?” your lips are slightly parted and your gaze is drowsy as you counter aventurine's question with a question of your own.

“like that.” he placed the hand that just rested on his thigh, on your cheek, slightly caressing it. “you're just gonna hurt the both of us if you keep this up any longer.” he's not sure where the boldness came from, he blames it on the alcohol once again; it finally seemed to kick in.

“‘m not lying” you hiccup. tomorrow i’ll tell you how much i love you, no matter if it's once” a cough exits your throat “or a hundred times.” the words that leave your mouth are slurred, they're incoherent and muddled up. your grip on his shoulder weakens, hands slipping off and head falling against his chest.

..did you seriously just black out?

aventurine can only sigh at that. a small smile finds its way onto his face. he snakes his arms around you waist, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and hugging you with the remaining power he had left before falling asleep. guess there'll be a lot to unpack tomorrow but for now he allows himself to indulge in this shared moment between the two of you.

e/n: hope yall enjoyed this as much as i hated writing this!! (i wanted to throw up) i acc hate how i wrote this. it's not as choppy as when i started writing it but it still feels so rushed and so idk.. anyway reblogs with comments are very much appreciated! >< ALSO that one paragraph written in brackets..guess whose speech it was inspired byyyyy (hint: bsd!!)

#toorurs #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #aventurine angst #aventurine imgines #aventurine headcanons #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #hsr headcanons

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kotoku · 8 months ago

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ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - sunday x injured! reader / aventurine x injured! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ angst but with comfort/ fluff in the end

warnings - a bit of angst (?), maybe like two sprinkles..

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

Sunday had been filing through his paperwork, eyes skimming over the contents before tucking it into its rightful folder. The ticking of a clock was the only sound that filled the room, besides the noise of papers being shuffled. It was then his mind had begun to wonder, filtering out the ambiance and recalling the last conversation the two of you had shared before leaving for work.

“It seems that something urgent has come up at work. I’ll be leaving now, Sunday.” You quickly put on your footwear that you normally use for work, making sure that it isn't loose. Sunday stood near the front door and offered you your bag that held your belongings when you got up.

“Alright, stay safe, my dear.”

And with a quick peck on the lips, you had set off to work, leaving Sunday in the doorway feeling a little lonely.

With a shake of his head and the shutting of the door, Sunday had made his way to the bedroom to start his own routine.

There was no need for him to feel lonely. As you would be back in his arms later that day.

He wouldn’t have had to wait that long, as he was notified of your disappearance by your boss.

Sunday had dropped whatever paperwork he was doing, the papers that were once neatly organized scattered across his desk. When he had got the call from your superior, knots of dread had weaved itself in his stomach and it made him want to puke.

He left his office in a hurry, not bothering to close the door fully as he sprinted to the place your superior had sent you to. Your superior had said that you had an assignment within the real dreamscape, something about the memetic entities within it that were disrupting the environment. The group that was sent to the area had lost you somewhere deep within it before they were attacked by those monsters.

The thought of you being by yourself while facing those things made a shiver run up his spine. He knew how capable you were but he didn’t want to risk losing another person again.

Not after what happened to his sister.

When Sunday got to the real dreamscape, he had met with the group you were sent with before leaving on his own to find you. He tore the entire place apart, searching for any traces of where you could have gone before stumbling upon a trail of freshly spilled blood. Your blood.

Sunday cursed under his breath, following the trail that led him through door after door. It was then the trail stopped, your beaten up form sitting up against the wall, a pool of blood beneath you from the blood that you were losing. You were on the verge of unconsciousness.

For a moment he felt his heart stop, hands clenching in anger and fear at what had done this to you. But despite the urge to eliminate whoever was responsible, he needed to focus and bring you somewhere safe.

You hadn’t registered the footsteps that were quickly approaching you, the gentleness of the person who was carrying you and the soft fluttering of wings against your face, nor the warm grip on your hand while you got transported to the infirmary. It was then when you could barely make out a couple of people above you that you were swept away to darkness.

-----

There was a faint noise coming from beside you. It was the sound of the monitors that were hooked up to you, the IV pole sitting nearby with its saline bag half empty. The bright lights that flooded your vision as soon as you woke caused you to wince, slowly shuffling in the medical bed you were set on.

The pain you felt was almost unbearable. The myriad of bandages on your body and the cast around your leg were proof of where the pain originated. You could barely move around that much with how everything was restricting you, yet you attempted to find a comfortable position.

However, you felt a lightweight resting on your thigh and a loose grip holding your hand.

“Sunday..?” You croaked out, peering over at the man who slept peacefully with some of his loose feathers around you. You figured that he must’ve been so stressed that some had popped right off, poor thing.

Reaching out a hand and carefully swiping away some of his disheveled hair, you saw the bags that had formed under his eyes. How many days has it been? It was clear that he had spent a while there with you, waiting for the moment that you’d awaken, but his tiredness eventually caught up to him. You couldn’t help but shake your head, feeling a little guilty you had caused your lover this much stress.

Sunday stirring awake snapped you out of your thoughts. He slowly blinked his eyes open and lifted himself away from where he lay as he noticed that you were awake.

“_____..? You’re awake..! Thank Xipe..I almost thought you weren’t going to wake up anytime soon.” Sunday breathed a sigh of relief, the feelings of stress and anxiety that ate away at him disappearing. He carefully cupped your face and pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get there in time, My Love…”

“Sunday… You don’t need to apologize for that. I should be apologizing for my recklessness…” You murmured, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You sunk further into his touch, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your cheek.

“Nonsense, you were only doing your duty.” Sunday firmly stated, nudging you to look him in the eyes. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for.”

Tears began to well in your eyes, not just from the pain but the reassurance that Sunday gave you. You would not have known what to do if either one of you lost the other, so you were eternally grateful that both of you were alive at this moment.

A brief silence fell between the both of you. It wasn’t uncomfortable but rather comforting, enjoying the presence of each other for a little longer before the nurses would check in on you.

“If you think about it… You’re kind of like my guardian angel, Sunday.” Sunday chuckled.

“I guess I am."

-----

You and Aventurine had an..interesting start to your developing friendship that brought you to where you are now. The both of you had first started working at the IPC in the same department so the frequent appearances of the other never really surprised either one of you. There would be times when you’d guys share small talk, but that never really lasted long as you got swept away to another assignment.

When you had started rising through the ranks, there was an unspoken rivalry that began to form between you and Aventurine. You never really cared or bothered to feed into this ‘rivalry’, but you had to admit that it was pretty funny seeing Aventurine so fired up if something fortunate happened to you. This led to constant teasing and bickering whenever the two of you encountered each other. It got even worse when you got paired to the same assignment as him. Yet he did know when to take things seriously so you both could get the job done.

It had been a rather uninteresting day of work for Aventurine, bound to his desk and reviewing important documents that had been submitted to him from his subordinates. Eventually, he had concluded everything and placed them into a cabinet for further inspection later. He just wanted to take a quick walk to stretch out his body after being strapped to his chair for the entire day.

The scenery outside the spaceship was what you’d expect, yet he never grew bored of it. Sometimes he’d stare out into the vast sea of stars and planets, distracted by the idea of just how small he and his problems were. In a way, it distracted him from the stresses of life.

Aventurine had begun to near the area where people would come in, a group of workers that had recently finished an assignment passing him. He noticed some familiar faces amidst the group and started to wonder when you’d be back to see him.

It had been 2 weeks since you left for your assignment, giving him a long kiss that left him dazed before departing. Aventurine didn’t lie when he said that he’d miss you as he whined about you leaving for 2 weeks, clinging to you when it was the morning of your departure. Yet he whined a little less when you promised to text him whenever you had a moment of free time.

Speaking of which… The last message you sent to him was a while ago, around 2 days in fact. He never heard anything from you since you bid goodnight to him which made him a little worried. But he knew more than anyone that you were a capable and dependable person, so his worries grew a little less.

…Yet he could feel a small twinge of dread in his stomach whenever he thought about the time span.

The opening of the doors leading to the docking area brought him out of his thoughts, glancing over to check what ship had come back. To his surprise, it was you..but in crutches and countless bandages as you awkwardly made your way past the door with someone assisting you.

Aventurine stared for a couple of seconds, registering your beat-up form before rushing over. “_____!”

You had strained your neck to look towards where the voice came from, seeing a distressed Aventurine catch up with you and your coworker.

“Ah.. Aventurine–,” you started, giving him an awkward smile. “--didn’t think I’d see you so soon. How has work been–”

“What happened to you??” Before you could finish your sentence, Aventurine had taken your coworker’s place, assisting you towards the infirmary. You were trying to explain what happened during your mission and brushed off the injuries, as it was never uncommon to come out with a few scratches and bruises… Aventurine disagreed in a heartbeat.

“Missions can be dangerous so you must take care of yourself.” Aventurine huffed, getting you checked into the infirmary.

After you were settled into your room with everything taken care of, Aventurine came back in to stay by your side. You could tell he was upset and concerned for your well-being, sighing as he continued to whine and lecture you about safety.

“You should’ve given me a call, you know I’d be there in a heartbeat–”

“Aventurine…”

“Who knows what could’ve happened to you if the circumstances were different–”

“Aventurine.”

“Whatever happened… Whoever did this to you I’ll–”

“Aventurine!”

He stopped pacing around the room, head snapping towards you when your voice finally got his attention. You sighed softly, looking down at your hands that had medical equipment attached to them. “I’m okay. Everything is fine–” “How can you say that?”

Aventurine gave you a frown, crossing his arms as he stood at the foot of your bed. “You came out with multiple injuries, hell you could barely walk. How could you say that everything is fine?” His eyes had narrowed, staring down at the tiled floor that reflected back at him.

You stared at him for a bit, thinking of what you could say to him. After all, he was right, you came out bearing a multitude of injuries that would leave a couple of scars. But..you didn’t want him to be so worried for your sake, you couldn’t bear burdening him. The grip you had on the sheets loosened, your head leaning back onto the pillow.

“I…” A pause. “..I’m sorry, Aventurine. I didn’t want to cause more stress for you but.. I’ll be fine. I promise.” You firmly spoke, watching him look back at you before coming over to sit beside you.

“No I… You don’t need to apologize.” Aventurine sighed, moving to hold your hand. “I was just..scared. I’m sorry for lashing out on you, _____.” His gloved fingers felt warm against your bare skin, thumb gliding over your knuckles.

You hummed in response, your hand interlocking with Aventurine’s. “I know, Aven.” He gave your intertwined hands a kiss, pressing his forehead against them.

“Geez… You really don’t know how worried I was when I didn’t hear anything from you for two days.” Aventurine whined, head moving to rest on your stomach. You stroked his hair, fingers gliding through his golden strands as he sighed in bliss.

“...I missed you.” He mumbled, peering up at you like a kid through his lovely eyes. You smiled softly at him.

“I missed you too, Aven.”

“You won’t believe how work has been without you, though…” “Really? I’m all ears.”

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - sorry for the sudden disappearance everyone! 😀 i hope that you guys haven't missed me too much but i'll promise to post stuff soon! thank you guys for your patience and i hope you guys have a safe and wonderful break/week!

#writing➠#honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #angst #fluff in the end tho #comfort #injured s/o

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vererur · 6 months ago

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You had given him your whole world but he had only given you a glimpse of his.

You were always honest and open with him. He always kept you at arms length.

You willingly waited and waited for him. You patiently stood by his side in hopes he would open up one day.

He claimed to love you and yet he never confided in you.

You truly start to question does he? Does he love you?

How much love and patience can you give until you’re at your limit?

Ayato, Zhongli, Venti, Kazuha, Kaeya, Dainsleif, Dan Heng, Blade, Adventurine, Loucha, Sunday, and any character that would apply 🫶

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cherrylovelycherry · 3 months ago

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𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and a pain au chocolat."

Contracts and preferences pt.1 pt.2

pairing. Aventurine x gn!reader x Dr ratio (poly) cw/genre. angst, argument, some slow burn again, slight being left out, some nsfw in pt.2, negligent attitudes synopsis. you went from being “decoration” and “ partner” to “ servant” and “assistant”. full menu

The more you gave, the more they seemed to demand, leaving you feeling like you were slowly sacrificing your own identity in the process.

Each passing day brought a new chore, a new task to complete.

You longed for a moment of understanding or appreciation, but it felt like your efforts were going unnoticed.

But you always pushed these thoughts and feelings down, telling yourself that it was just part of the job, part of being their assistant.

You were already managing to hold it mentally, even feeling a little calmer.

But it all went to hell.

You were currently in bed, trying to rest after a busy day.

Both Aventurine and Ratio were there, on the other side of the bed.

Your body was turned, looking at the wall, you've always liked that place.

About an hour, it was only a damn hour before you started hearing faint sound of kissing and movement in bed.

Your body stiffened as you heard the sound of their make-out session in the bed, right beside you.

You tried to ignore it, telling yourself it was normal.

But the sound of their movements and sighs of pleasure filled the room, making it impossible to escape the intimate atmosphere.

You clenched your fists, feeling a mix of discomfort and frustration.

Every kiss, every touch they shared felt like an invasion of your already limited space.

You desperately wanted to shout at them to stop, to show some respect for your feelings and the boundaries of the relationship.

But you lay there, frozen in place, your body tense and your nerves on edge.

The sound of their voices filled the room, intertwined with whispers and panting.

"Ah, wait, not that...not yet," Aven muttered.

You felt a flash of frustration, but you held your tongue.

Each moan and gasp seemed like a knife twisting in your heart.

You tried to block out the sound of their pleasure, but it was like a damn torment.

"Are you sure they're asleep?" you heard Aventurine ask, keeping his voice low.

"Yeah, just be quiet," Ratio responded, his voice hushed.

Your heart sank at his words, realizing that they thought you were sound asleep, oblivious to their intimate moments.

How many times had they done this before, assuming you were asleep?

The realization hit you like a punch in the gut.

Their voices became more hurried, their movements more urgent.

You hated this.

Their breaths, their moans filled the room, mingling with the rustling of sheets and the creaking of the bed.

You clenched your jaws, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.

Each sound seemed to mock your presence, disregarding your feelings and boundaries.

Damn, it'd be a long night.

…

It was a long night.

You barely managed to get the dream together.

You stayed all night in the same position you were in, so you felt your body sore and numb.

When you tried to move, you felt something was attached to your back.

Aventurine was curled up against your back, sleeping peacefully.

You were trapped in his embrace, unable to move without waking him up.

You felt a mixture of irritation, struggling to untangle yourself from his grip.

But Aventurine seemed to cling to you, his arms wrapped possessively around you even in his sleep.

You gritted your teeth, frustration and frustration growing.

Ratio lay on his back, still sound asleep.

You didn't even notice that they had settled like that.

Aventurine's embrace was warm and tight, but it felt suffocating.

You tried to carefully wriggle free, but his grip only tightened, pulling you closer against his chest.

You cursed silently, feeling trapped.

Each futile attempt to move only made him snuggle tighter against you, his breath tickling your skin.

Their sleepy murmurs and sighs only added to your frustration.

Aventurine murmured something unintelligible, his head nuzzling against your shoulder as he slept.

You tried to contain your frustration and desperation.

You didn't want to make a scene, but the longer you stayed stuck like this, the more your irritation grew.

The feeling of being trapped, both physically and emotionally, was unbearable.

Finally you couldn't take it anymore and with one hand you shook his shoulder a little.

Aventurine muttered in his sleep, stirring slightly at your touch.

He let out a groggy mumble, his grip loosening slightly.

"Hm... what..?" he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.

Ratio stirred too, waking up due to the disturbance.

He blinked clearly, rubbing his eyes.

You took the opportunity to break free from Aventurine's embrace.

With a slight push, you managed to move away from him, freeing yourself from his grip.

Ratio groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking sleepy.

"What's going on?" He asked, His voice still groggy.

"Nothing, nothing," you said, once you had finally freed yourself from his arms.

"You can go back to sleep," you added, as you moved down the bed, getting up.

Ratio raised an eyebrow, noting the tension in your movements.

"Are you alright?" He asked, genuinely confused.

Aventurine mumbled incoherently, his arm still outstretched as if trying to find you in his sleep.

"Better than ever," you said, with some sarcasm in your tone.

Then you left the room, to go to the bathroom and then start doing your things.

Ratio watched you go, a mixture of concern and confusion etched on his face.

He glanced at Aventurine, still asleep and mumbling in his sleep.

"What the hell was that...?" Ratio muttered, running a hand through his hair.

For your part, you were still in a bad mood, because of the bad night and everything that was starting to come together.

You left the bathroom, somewhat refreshed, starting to go to the kitchen, to prepare the damn breakfast, as always.

You entered the kitchen, feeling a pang of frustration as you began preparing breakfast.

The motions felt mechanical, your mind preoccupied with the events of the night before.

You couldn't shake the feeling of being ignored and underappreciated.

Every task felt like another responsibility piled on your shoulders, another item on a never-ending checklist.

As you went about making breakfast, the kitchen slowly began to fill with the aroma of food.

The sounds of frying and sizzling filled the air, a familiar routine you had grown accustomed to.

After some time, Ratio entered the kitchen, still a bit sleepy.

He approached you, leaning against the counter as you continued to work.

"What's on the menu today?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

You replied without looking at him, focusing on preparing the food.

"Toast, scrambled eggs, and sausage."

Ratio hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze following your every move.

He opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it soon after, noting your distant behavior.

Ratio stayed for a moment, observing you in the kitchen, noting the slight detachment in your demeanor.

The silence between you was palpable, as you continued preparing breakfast without meeting his gaze.

Ratio shifted his weight, leaning against the counter.

"You seem quiet today," he finally said, breaking the stillness.

"As always, love," you said, as you continued to move the sarten a little.

Ratio's eyes narrowed slightly at your response.

"Is everything alright...?" He inquired, his voice laced with concern.

You shrugged nonchalantly, continuing your tasks without lifting your gaze.

"I'm just focused on the breakfast," you replied, dodging the question.

Ratio let out a thoughtful hum, studying your demeanor.

"Are you sure? You seem... tense now."

He tried to catch your eyes, wanting to gauge your mood.

"Nah, you think too much," you said, turning the eggs.

Ratio sighed, realizing that you were not going to give in easily.

He leaned his head slightly, his eyes fixed on your back as you continued cooking.

"Sweetheart, you know you can talk to me, right?"

He tried to sound reassuring, hoping to draw an honest response from you.

Meanwhile, Aventurine appeared in the kitchen, still a bit disoriented.

"Morning," he chimed in, approaching Ratio.

Ratio glanced at him, his expression conveying a silent message.

Aventurine, still half-asleep and disheveled, shuffled closer to Ratio.

He yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes, unaware of the tension in the air.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked, his voice gravelly with sleep.

Ratio looked between Aventurine and you, noting the contrast in your demeanors.

He turned his attention back to Aventurine, trying to divert his attention.

"They're making eggs and toast," he responded, keeping his voice neutral.

Aventurine hummed in approval, the scent of breakfast rousing him further.

He took a seat at the table, still a bit groggy.

"Sounds delicious," he commented, his stomach grumbling.

However, Ratio's eyes lingered on you, his concern growing.

He observed you as you moved around the kitchen, noting the subtle signs of frustration in your movements.

Ratio cast a glance your way, noticing the way you seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking at Aventurine.

He furrowed his brow, mentally noting the subtle cues of discomfort.

He needed to tread carefully here.

"Sweetheart, can you make me a coffee?" Aven asked, from the table, lying down a little on this.

You paused your tasks, turning your gaze towards Aventurine, who was leaning on the table.

His request was a routine one, yet today it felt like another demand added to your already overflowing to-do list.

You let out a soft sigh.

"Sure, love," you responded, forcing a neutral tone.

You tried to keep a neutral expression, though the irritation was bubbling just beneath the surface.

Ratio watched the interaction with a keen eye, sensing the subtle tension in your response.

He observed as you moved to prepare Aventurine's coffee.

The silence in the kitchen was punctuated only by the sounds of brewing coffee and the sizzle of eggs frying.

Ratio continued to study you, noticing the small telltales of your frustration, the slight clenching of your jaw.

Aventurine, blissfully unaware, hummed in appreciation as he waited for his coffee.

He approached you, with calm steps, before taking your waist and attaching his body to your back.

You froze for a moment as Ratio's body suddenly came into contact with your back.

His hands on your waist were a usual gesture, but today felt like an invasion of your personal space.

You tried to conceal your discomfort.

His breath tickled the back of your neck, but instead of comfort, it only heightened your discomfort.

"Uhm... could you?" You said, as you moved your arms a little. Waiting for him to catch the hint.

Ratio seemed to misunderstand your meaning, thinking you were gesturing for something else.

He leaned in a bit more, his presence enveloping you from behind.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice soft and intimate.

Frustration welled up within you as his grip tightened, his body pressed closer against your back.

You let out a forced laugh, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy.

"I need to finish cooking," you explained, your voice slightly strained. "Can you... give me some space, please?"

Ratio seemed a bit surprised by your request, but he immediately released his grip, stepping back to give you some space.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression showing a hint of concern.

"Sure, of course," he said, his voice laced with understanding.

You let out a sigh, something relieved.

"Can you take this to Aven?" you said as you pointed your hand at the fresh cup of coffee.

Ratio nodded, picking up the cup of freshly brewed coffee.

He approached Aventurine, who was still sitting at the table, and placed the cup in front of him.

"Here you go," Ratio said, his tone soft, while kissing him on the head.

Aventurine let out a slight laugh at his actions.

"Thanks," he said, recording the cup and taking a sip.

Ratio smiled back at Aventurine, watching him save the coffee.

Meanwhile, you attempted to return to cooking, trying to suppress the turmoil of emotions welling up inside you.

However, Ratio's eyes remained fixed on you, his observant gaze taking in your every movement.

Once you finished preparing breakfast, you walked to the table, holding their plates for them to eat.

You left them and also left yours in your place.

Ratio and Aventurine began to eat, the sound of their forks clinking against the porcelain creating a gentle rhythm.

However, Ratio couldn't shake off the unease he felt as he observed your behavior.

He could see the subtle signs of tension in your body language, the small gestures that hinted at your inner turmoil.

Ratio tried to engage in light conversation, hoping to ease the tension.

"The food is delicious, as always," he commented, his gaze flickering towards you.

Aventurine nodded in agreement, devouring his food with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, it's really good. You always make the best breakfast," he said, with his mouth still somewhat full.

"I'm glad you like it," you said, and before you started eating, you got up from the table, to head towards the bedroom.

They watched as you got up and started to leave the table.

His eyebrows furrowed, knowing that something was off by your abrupt departure.

"Sweetheart, you're not going to eat?" Aventurine asked, his voice tinged with concern and confusion.

You paused in your steps, turning slightly to look at them.

"Huh, yeah," you replied, your voice soft. "I'm just going to change the sheets in bed,"

"'cause I don't think you two changed it," you muttered between your teeth, before continuing on your way to the bedroom.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged glances, realizing the hidden meaning behind your words.

"Right..." Aventurine murmured, a slight hint of embarrassment in his tone.

Meanwhile, Ratio pursed his lips.

Now, more relieved to change the dirty sheets, you left them in the washing machine.

And again you headed towards the dining room, sitting in your place.

When you arrived, you hadn't realized that your plate was now in your hands and suddenly you were now sitting on Ratio's lap.

Ratio, taking advantage of your moment of surprise, had gently pulled you onto his lap without you noticing.

A small gasp escaped your lips as you found yourself sitting on his thighs, the unexpected move leaving you momentarily flustered.

Aventurine chuckled, amused by the sight of you on Ratio's lap.

Ratio wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you snugly against his chest.

"Okay, sweetie," Aven said as he turned a little in his seat.

"Open your mouth," he added, as he approached your fork with food toward your mouth.

You felt a mixture of surprise and slight resistance as Aventurine tried to feed you.

Ratio's arms held you firmly on his lap, preventing you from moving away.

"I can feed myself," you protested, trying to push away Aventurine's hand with the fork.

Aventurine smiled mischievously as he brought the fork closer to your lips.

Ratio let out a soft chuckle, holding you tighter against him, enjoying the playful interaction.

"Come on, sweetheart, don't be so difficult," Ratio said.

"Let Vasha feed you."

Aventurine nodded in agreement, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.

"That's right. Let us pamper you a bit," he added, bringing the fork closer to your lips again.

You moved something inconsulate, as you pulled your face away from the fork.

"No, I can do it alone," you said again, with some tension in your voice.

You were trying to control yourself so that frustration and irritation wouldn't consume you.

Ratio tightened his grip around your waist, keeping you firmly seated on his lap.

He leaned in closer, his voice now a soft murmur in your ear.

"Sweetheart, relax," he said, his breath against your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

"Just let us take care of you."

Meanwhile, Aventurine continued to attempt to feed you, enjoying the little game he had initiated.

He brought the fork gently to your lips once again, his eyes fixed on your stubborn expression.

"C'mon, just one little bite," he coaxed.

Your irritation grows more and more, your patience slowly reaching its limit.

Ratio's firm grip on your waist and Aventurine's persistence to feed you were driving you to the edge.

You gritted your teeth, trying to control the feeling of frustration that was coursing through you.

"I don't need to be pampered," you snapped, your voice strained.

You tried once again to push Aventurine's hand with the fork away, but Ratio's hold kept you firmly on his lap.

Ratio's grip remained steadfast, his arms firm around your waist.

Aventurine let out a soft chuckle, enjoying the challenge of trying to feed you.

"Oh, but we want to pamper you," Ratio said, his voice low and persuasive.

"Just one small bite, sweetheart," Aventurine echoed, attempting to force the fork into your mouth.

You were trapped between the two of them, their insistence to pamper you clashing with your growing frustration.

You couldn't hold back anymore.

The feeling of being controlled and restricted was overwhelming.

You snapped, your frustration finally exploding.

"No!" You exclaimed, pushing Aventurine's hand away forcefully, causing the fork to fall to the floor.

"I don't want to be pampered! I just want to be left alone and do things myself!"

Ratio and Aventurine froze, their playful expressions changing to surprise at your outburst.

Ratio's arms loosened around your waist as he was startled by your outburst.

He exchanged a glance with Aventurine, both of them taken aback by the force behind your words.

"Sweetheart, we..." Ratio began to say, his voice soft, but you interrupted him before he could continue.

You pushed away from Ratio's lap, standing up abruptly.

"I don't need your pampering. I can manage myself just fine," you said, your voice still tinged with anger.

Aventurine stood still, watching you get up, his eyebrows frowning a little in an hurt way.

Ratio wasn't going to keep quiet, first you push Aven's hand hard and now you behave like that?

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked as he got up from his chair.

You spun quickly, meeting Ratio's gaze, your frustration and irritation still visible.

"What is wrong with me? What's wrong with you two?" you retorted, your voice rising.

Ratio stepped closer to you, his eyes narrowing.

"We just want to take care of you," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "Can't we even do that?"

"Oh," you let go, almost lowering your tone, sarcastically. "of course, of course, now you both want to take care of me,"

"How funny, really," you added, letting out a slight laugh without grace.

Ratio was getting exasperated by your attitude, his patience wearing thin.

"What the hell does that mean?" He demanded, his voice raising in volume. "We've always taken care of you, so why are you acting like this now?"

Aventurine, who previously was watching the argument, finally spoke up.

"He's right, sweetheart," he intervened, "we're just trying to be nice, why are you getting mad?" his voice soft but still carrying a hint of offense.

"Oh, aeons," you let go, smiling a little as you ran your hand across your face.

At this point you didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Although you two had great jobs, apparently never learned the meaning of a few words," you snapped.

You meant the word 'always', by Ratio's words, since according to him, they always took care of you.

Ratio's irritation only grew in response to your sarcasm.

"Oh, please, enlighten us then," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "What words do we need to learn?"

Aventurine, now with more upset in his facial expressions, frowned.

"Yeah, I'd like to know too," he echoed Ratio's sentiment, "since apparently we've been doing a terrible job of taking care of you."

You let out a frustrated sign, your emotions boiling over.

"Do you really want to know what words?" You asked, your voice rising.

"Alright. Let's start with always. Apparently, you define 'always' as 'sometimes'," you exclaimed, your voice filled with bitterness.

"Ha! Or even like 'almost never'."

They exchange surprised glances, taken aback by your response.

Ratio crossed his arms, his irritation still palpable.

"What? We take care of you all the time," he retorted, his voice defensive.

Aventurine nodded in agreement, adding to Ratio's defense.

"Yeah, we do everything for you. We look after you, we're kind to you, and make sure you're comfortable. How is that not 'always'?"

You let go of another laugh, as a mockery.

"Oh guys, you are for each other" you said.

"Seriously, you two are completely oblivious."

Before they could answer, you kept talking.

"Oh, but let's see," you said, as you put a hand on your lips, as if you were thinking.

"Because you two are so kind and considerate to me, surely thought it would be a good idea to fuck next to me, while I was 'sleeping,'" you said as you made quotation marks with your fingers.

"Oh right," you said before clearing your throat, ready to mimic their voices.

"'Are you sure they're asleep?','Yeah, just be quiet'."

They both froze, their eyes widened in surprise at your revelation.

Ratio's expression turned from annoyance to a mix of surprise and sheepishness.

"Oh come on, it's not like we were intentionally—"

Aventurine interrupted Ratio, trying to defend themselves.

"You... you weren't asleep?," he said, his voice hesitant.

You raised an eyebrow at their words, not letting their words diminish your anger.

"Surprise, surprise! No, I wasn't sleeping," you retorted, "It's hard to sleep when the bed is shaking violently and there's moans all night long."

Aventurine's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, realizing the implications of your words.

Ratio's annoyance returned, trying to defend their actions.

"Well, we didn't realize you were awake," he said, "We just thought you were a heavy sleeper or something."

"Bullshit," you released.

"Oh, Aven, how is your back?" You asked, pretending to be concerned.

Aventurine's embarrassment only deepened.

"Uh, it's... fine," he muttered, his voice quieter than usual.

Ratio, however, was not about to back down.

"What's the big deal anyway?" he said, his irritation seeping into his voice. "We're in a relationship, it's normal for us to be intimate."

You let out an exasperated sign, your frustration growing even more.

"The 'big deal' is that it's disrespectful and inconsiderate," you said, your voice growing louder.

"You two made all that noise and didn't even bother to check if I was asleep or not."

Ratio rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed.

"Oh, come on now," he said, "you're blowing this out of proportion. We just forgot to check. It's not a big deal."

"Yes, it's a big deal, because I'm also your partner!" you snapped, with a heavy annoyance in your tone.

Ratio seemed unfazed by your assertion.

"Yes," he responded, his tone not matching your annoyance. "You are our partner, but we have our own relationship too."

This only fueled your irritation even more.

"So what? You think I'm just an accessory to your relationship?" you snapped.

Aventurine, sensing the tension, tried to intervene.

"Sweetheart, that's not what he means," he tried to mediate.

"Shut up," you let go, as it was starting to irritate you to want to appease the situation, as if it wasn't anything important.

Aventurine's attempt to intervene was abruptly shut down by your sharp words.

Ratio, feeling provoked by your reaction, shot back.

"Hey, don't talk to him like that," he snapped, his irritation reaching its peak.

You, on the other hand, were not backing down.

"Why not? I'm tired of you two treating me as if my feelings don't matter," you said, your voice rising once again.

Ratio's defensive attitude was not waning.

"Your feelings do matter," he retorted, "but you're overreacting. It's just a small example."

You were becoming more and more frustated by Ratio's dismissal of your feelings.

"Example?" you asked.

"You want more examples?, of course," you let go, getting a little closer to both.

"Maybe that 'decoration' and 'partner' stuff isn't the best term for me."

Ratio's annoyance turned into confusion, as he exchanged a glance with Aventurine.

"You know what should be the term that describes me?" You asked rhetorically before answering yourself.

"Assistant who is more of a servant,"

Ratio and Aventurine fell silent, shocked by your words.

Ratio seemed taken aback, his expression turning dark.

"Assistant? Servant? What are you saying?" He asked, his voice low.

Aventurine, on the other hand, seemed saddened by your words.

"Is that really how you see yourself?" He asked, his voice soft.

"And you still ask, Kakavasha?" You snapped, as you looked at him, after asking that stupid question.

"Now all I hear are petitions, petitions and more petitions." You kept talking, not waiting for them to respond. "Even some become orders,"

Ratio was becoming angry at your comparison.

"That's not true," he argued, "we don't treat you like a servant."

Aventurine was already getting tense again, bothered by the tone you were talking about and how to say things that, to him, made no sense.

"We just ask for your help with small things sometimes," he said, his voice steady.

But you continued to express your frustration.

"It's not just 'small things,'" you said, "It feels like that's all I'm there for, to do whatever you ask, whenever you want."

You saw that Ratio was going to speak again, you supposed to dismiss your words, so you didn't let him answer, speaking first.

"Put this in the washing machine, did you change the bath towels?, Pass me this, pass me that, You have the agenda tomorrow and in the past?, Wash the clothes, Clean the house, Wash the dishes, Order our belongings, Make me a coffee, Is breakfast ready?" You said suddenly, several examples of what they were asking for. "And the list goes on,"

Seeing their faces, you mocked, "A little more and I'm ordered to make an appointment for you two."

Aventurine was starting to get defensive, but he was still trying to control himself.

"We just ask for your help because we need it," he said, his voice rising. "We're busy with other things."

You, on the other hand, weren't accepting their excuses.

"You two are always too busy," you said, your own voice rising. "What about me? I'm busy too, I have things to do, you know?"

Ratio, who had been quiet for a few moments, suddenly interjected.

"Are you really that busy?" He asked sarcastically. "You're just at home, doing nothing all day."

That stung hard.

You felt a stab of resentment at his words, as if he had dismissed all the hard work you did day in and day out to keep their life together.

"Doing nothing all day?" You echoed, your voice filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. "You really think that?"

Ratio held his gaze, his eyes cold as he spoke.

"Well, what else do you do?" I've inquired.

"Ha, right," You let out a bitter laugh, "I don't do anything and you're both so busy, so I have to be always on call to wait on you."

Ratio's expression hardened, not appreciating your sarcasm.

"We're not asking you to be on call," he said, his voice growing louder. "We just expect you to help out around the house and with other matters. It's a partnership."

"You live here too, so you should pull your weight," Aventurine added, echoing Ratio's words.

You felt your frustration boiling over.

"Pull my weight?" You repeated, your voice rising. "I already do-"

"How much you complain about, if that's what you signed the contracts for, that's what you're our assistant for." Ratio interrupted you, coldly in his tone.

Your irritation shot up even outside, fueled by Ratio's words.

"And there it is," you snapped, "the real reason you two want me here, right? I'm just your little helper, your assistant, here to do the dirty work while you two play."

This time, Ratio didn't deny anything. "Yes, because that's who you are."

You felt a pang of pain at his confirmation. It was as if he had just confirmed all your fears, that you were nothing more than a convenient presence in their lives.

Aventurine chimed in, his voice trying to defend Ratio.

"It's not just about that," he said, hesitantly. "We value your company, and we enjoy spending time with you-"

You cut him off.

"As long as I'm useful, right?" You said, your voice tinged with bitterness.

The realization that your relationship with them had been reduced to a transactional, one-sided partnership hit you hard.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, but you pushed on, refusing to back down.

"Is that really all I am to you?" You asked, your voice shaking slightly. "Just a convenience?"

Ratio's Demeanor remained cold, unfazed by your emotional display.

"You knew the terms when you signed the contracts," he stated matter-of-factly.

Aventurine, a little quieter up to that point, chimed in.

"We told you what the arrangement would be from the start," he said, his tone less harsh than Ratio's. "But that doesn't mean we don't have a relationship."

"Right, a 'relationship,'" you repeated, with a touch of sarcasm. "Is that what you call this? Because from where I'm standing, it feels more like you two just want a live-in maid."

Ratio's expression darkened even more, clearly not appreciating your tone.

"We're not forcing you to stay here, you know," he said. "If you're so unhappy, you can always leave."

His words were like another knife in your heart.

You weren't sure how to respond. The thought of leaving them had never crossed your mind. Despite everything, you loved them. But the way they had just treated you, like you were nothing more than a convenience, had hurt deeply.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Veritas?" You retorted, your voice quivering slightly.

But as much as you tried, you couldn't stop the tears you were trying not to shed from falling.

Ratio shrugged nonchalantly, as if to say that's what he really thought. Aventurine, on the other hand, remained silent, unable to defend you.

It was so unfair.

You looked at Ratio with displeasure, no matter that your vision is blurred by tears

You stopped looking at him, to look at Aventurine, waiting for him to say something, to take your side in this.

But seeing that he wasn't going to say anything, you were instantly agitated.

"I met you first," you said, almost in a plea.

He looked down to one side.

"Vasha...?" You asked, something fearful about his action.

"...I met him first." He said, in a low tone.

Your heart sank further. It was as if Ratio's words had just confirmed everything you had feared. It was clear that they valued each other more than they valued you.

Oh, you felt so stupid.

You started sobbing, with that, humbling yourself more in front of both of you.

You didn't want to do that, but after suppressing your feelings for a long time, it made it difficult for you to control yourself a little.

Both Ratio and Aventurine seemed uncomfortable at the sight of your crying. Ratio looked away, clearly not interested in dealing with your emotional outburst. Aventurine, on the other hand, looked conflicted, torn between comforting you or respecting Ratio's attitude.

He took a step closer to you, but Ratio stopped him with a gesture.

"Don't coddle them," Ratio commanded, his voice still firm. Aventurine hesitated, looking conflicted, but ultimately stayed put.

"You're being cruel." Aventurine mumbled, looking at Ratio with a certain disapproval for his way of acting.

Ratio shot a sharp glance at Aventurine.

"They're just being overly emotional," Ratio said, dismissing Aventurine's concern.

Meanwhile, their words and lack of compassion only deepened your sobbing. You felt completely alone in this.

Maybe you were from the start.

Even standing there in front of them you tried to cover your face, with your hands you tried to clumsily wipe your tears, to stop humiliating yourself.

Ratio's coldness contrasted sharply with Aventurine's visible concern.

"Oh, stop," Ratio said, rolling his eyes.

Aventurine protested again.

"They're obviously hurt," he said, his eyes flickering to you, "We can't just ignore that."

Ratio shrugged indifferently.

"They'll be fine," he said. "They're just being dramatic."

Aventurine looked at Ratio with a mix of disbelief and disappointment.

"You're unbelievable," he mumbled.

Meanwhile, Ratio looked almost annoyed.

"Now, come on, it's been late," he said, starting to walk into the bedroom, to change and get out.

Aventurine watched Ratio leave the space and then turned his gaze to you.

You kept wiping away your tears as best as you could, still trying to compose yourself, but the hurt and frustration were deep-seated.

When he approached you, you took a step back, feeling vulnerable and a bit defensive after the previous argument.

His voice was softer than Ratio's had been.

"Here, let me…" Aventurine said, gently reaching out to help you wipe your tears.

You didn't refuse, but it wasn't like you accepted or made the slightest attempt to stick to him.

Aventurine tried to be gentle as he dabbed away your tears.

But you were still feeling raw and hurt, and it was difficult for you to feel comforted. You kept looking down, avoiding his gaze.

You didn't feel special or anything, at that moment you could just continue sobbing and letting the tears soak your face.

Ratio, impatient and already on his way to the bedroom, called out to him. "Vasha, come on."

Aventurine shot a concerned glance at you before looking back at Ratio.

"What about them?" he asked, gesturing towards you.

Ratio didn't even look back.

"They'll be fine," Ratio repeated, as he opened the bedroom door. "They just need a moment to calm down."

Aventurine let out a sigh, torn between staying with you or complying with Ratio's demand. He seemed torn, as if he didn't want to leave you in that state, but also didn't want to ignore Ratio's call.

He looked at you again, his eyes reflecting his conflict. Finally, he spoke in a hushed tone, as if he didn't want Ratio to hear.

"We'll talk later, alright?" he said, trying to give a small reassurances.

Then, without waiting for your response, Aventurine reluctantly followed Ratio into the bedroom.

The door closed behind Aventurine, leaving you alone in the hallway.

The silence echoed in your ears, the only sound being your shallow breathing as you tried to contain your sobs.

You felt so alone and unimportant. It seemed as if your emotions didn't matter to Ratio, and even Aventurine's attempts at comfort seemed half-hearted.

The apartment was now quiet, and you were left with your thoughts. The realization of Ratio's harsh words, his casual dismissal of you, and Aventurine's inability to defend you or at least stand up for you, weighed heavily on your heart.

You remained standing in the hallway, the sobs still making your chest ache with each deep breath.

You managed to go and lock yourself in the spare room next to the master bedroom, seeking solace in that bed.

After locking the door, you climbed into the bed and curled up in a ball under the covers.

The tears continued to fall, your body trembling from the force of your sobs. The room was dark, and the silence around you seemed to amplify your pain.

The conversation with them played over and over again in your mind, their words like poison in your heart.

They just see you as their little helper, someone who serves their needs.

You clutched a pillow tightly, burying your face in it as you tried to muffle your sobs. The pain of their indifference was almost physical, like a weight pressing heavily on your chest.

It was as if the bed enveloped you in a cold, embraced the loneliness you felt in your core.

But just being there and allowing yourself to cry felt good, you didn't hold back.

You don't know how long you were there, sobbing and sobbing, but at some point, tiredness made you practically faint, falling sound asleep.

Even at night, when they had both already returned home, you were still in that room, sleeping.

As they entered the apartment, they noticed that the table was still with the dirty dishes and your breakfast plate that you did not even arrive to eat.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a knowing look as they noticed the untouched breakfast.

Ratio spoke first.

"They didn't eat anything all day, huh?" He said, a hint of indifference in his voice.

Aventurine nodded, a mix of guilt and shame on his face.

"I guess not," he mumbled.

Ratio let out a sigh, as he squeezed the bridge of his nose a little.

Ratio walked a little further through the apartment, his expression hard to read.

Aventurine followed him, his footsteps echoing behind Ratio's.

"Maybe we should have checked on them," Aventurine said, his voice tinged with guilt.

Ratio remained silent, while frowning somewhat hesitantly.

Aventurine spoke again, his voice was low.

"Do you think they're still upset?" he asked Ratio.

Ratio let out a sigh again.

"Of course they're upset," he replied, "We literally said hurtful things to their face, Vasha."

Aventurine looked even more guilty as Ratio stated the obvious.

"But I thought you said they were just overreacting?" He said, almost defensively.

Ratio looked to the side, somewhat annoyed by Aventurine's comment. "And I think they are," he said, "But that doesn't mean we didn't hurt them."

There was a moment of silence between the two, before Ratio spoke again. This time, his voice softer than before.

"We may have to find a way to apologize," he said, sighing again.

Aventurine nodded in agreement, seemingly glad that Ratio had considered some kind of reconciliation.

Ratio continued to look at the dirty dishes, the ones they had left there before going out and the breakfast that you had prepared but not touched. That made him feel a new pang, a pang of guilt, but he refused to dwell on that now.

Aventurine spoke again, breaking the silence.

"We should talk to them, right?"

Ratio considered for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, we can talk to them."

Aventurine seemed to take a silent sigh of relief, glad that Ratio agreed to the option.

"When?" he prompted.

Ratio looked at the bedroom door, clearly aware that you were in there.

"Now," Ratio answered, his voice firm.

Aventurine stared at Ratio, slightly surprised by the response.

"Now? But they might be asleep..." he muttered, hesitantly.

Ratio's expression didn't change, as he was resolute.

"It's still early," he replied, "And they are probably awake."

Ratio started walking towards the bedroom door, Aventurine following close behind.

As they approached the door Ratio paused, listening for a moment to see if he could hear any sounds from inside.

Meanwhile, Aventurine stood by, his heart racing a little.

In the finals, he ended up knocking on the door, not too loud.

There was no response after five minutes.

Aventurine shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe they really are asleep," he said hesitantly.

Ratio sighed, a slight trace of worry crossing his expression.

"Maybe...we should check on them," he suggested, his voice tinged with a subtle concern.

Aventurine nodded, agreeing with Ratio's suggestion.

"Yeah,"

Ratio took a breath, then reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it, opening the door a crack to peek inside.

Ratio slowly opened the door and looked inside.

The bedroom was dark, the only light coming from the lamp in the hallway. However, it was enough to see you lying on the bed, your face buried in the pillows.

A soft, regular sound betrayed the steady rhythm of your breathing.

Ratio pushed the door open a little further, his eyes still fixed on your sleeping form.

Aventurine peered over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of you.

"Are they...?" Aventurine whispered, looking at Ratio.

Ratio answered, still observing you. "Yes, they are asleep."

Aventurine let out a sigh, relieved to know that you were indeed asleep.

"That's good, right...?" he said, half expecting Ratio to agree with him.

Ratio, still looking at you, however, didn't answer immediately.

He simply stood there, watching you sleep silently, a strange expression on his face.

Ratio's sudden silence confused Aventurine. He looked at Ratio's face, trying to understand his expression.

"Veritas?" Aventurine murmured, his voice a little higher than a whisper.

Ratio turned his head slightly, his eyes still fixed on you.

"Hm?" he responded, almost as if he had forgotten that Aventurine was there.

Aventurine looked at Ratio and then at you again, starting to realize that Ratio was strangely contemplative.

"Are you...ok?" Aventurine asked, a note of hesitation in his voice.

Ratio seemed to come out of his trance, snapping his eyes back to Aventurine.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said, though there was a slight hesitation in his words.

Ratio slowly closed the door, then turned to Aven.

Who grabbed his face, somewhat worried.

"Tomorrow we will talk to them and everything will be fine," he said, rubbing his cheeks gently.

"Yes, tomorrow," he repeated, more as if assuring himself than Aventurine.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting Aventurine's hands remain on his face for a while.

It was somewhat comforting, but Ratio's mind was still occupied with the previous argument.

...

The morning sun slowly shone through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom.

Ratio and Aventurine, both already awake, were still lying in bed. However, neither of them had gotten up yet.

Ratio had his eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling while Aventurine sat against the headboard, looking thoughtful.

There was an unusual tension between them, the events of the previous day hanging heavily in the air.

Aventurine broke the silence first.

"Veritas," he said, looking at Ratio.

Ratio turned to look at him, wordlessly waiting for him to speak.

Aventurine continued, his voice low but firm. "We need to talk to them, like we said we would," he said.

Ratio sighed slightly, already knowing what was coming.

He knew they had agreed to speak to you, but the thought of it made him uncomfortable.

"I know," he murmured, turning his gaze back to the ceiling.

Aventurine noticed Ratio's uneasiness and looked at him with slight irritation.

"Why do you look so reluctant?" he asked, a note of annoyance in his voice.

Ratio didn't answer immediately, he looked away to one side, avoiding Aventurine's gaze.

Aventurine pressed him again.

"Veritas."

Ratio finally turned to him, his expression somewhat resigned.

"I feel like I went too far," he said.

Aventurine's expression softened a little, hearing Ratio's confession.

"I think we both went too far," he said, gently.

"Yeah," he confessed, his voice softer than usual. "What I said yesterday was...harsh."

"You feel...bad?"

Ratio nodded slightly, sighing afterwards.

"I feel ashamed," he admitted, still avoiding eye contact.

Aventurine moved a little closer to him, a hint of empathy in his eyes.

He reached out and placed a hand on Ratio's shoulder, a gesture of comfort.

"I feel the same," he said quietly. "I should have said something, tried to stop you..."

Ratio finally looked at him, the corner of his mouth tugging slightly in something resembling a weak smile.

"I wouldn't have listened to you anyway," he said, not trying to hide the truth.

Aventurine couldn't help but chuckle a little despite the serious atmosphere within the room.

"Probably not," he agreed.

There was a moment of silence, before Aventurine spoke again, changing the topic.

"Do you think they will forgive us...?"

Ratio closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about the question.

The events of the day before played again in his mind, each harsh word, and your tearful expression.

"I don't know," he responded truthfully, his voice low. "I hope so, but..."

He was going to say something else, but he shake his head, pushing away negative thoughts.

"No, they're going to forgive us." He said, in a way of convincing himself.

"They will," Aventurine said, in an attempt to give some comfort, although his face said that he had doubts.

Ratio nodded slightly, yet the look in his eyes betrayed the uncertainty he still felt.

Then, another silence fell across the room, only the sound of a clock ticking could be heard.

After a long moment, Aventurine spoke again, breaking the quiet.

"We should get up...and go talk to them," he said, glancing at the bedroom door.

"Yes, we should..." Ratio agreed, though neither of them made any effort to actually get up from the bed.

They both lay there for a few more moments, as if they had both suddenly lost the courage to do what they had promised.

Aventurine was the first to stir, sitting up.

"Come on," he said, reaching out a hand towards Ratio, silently prompting him to get up as well.

Ratio looked at Aventurine's outstretched hand for a moment before finally grasping it and pulling himself up.

He swung his legs off the bed and got to his feet, feeling somewhat reluctant but knowing that the conversation was unavoidable.

No one said anything as they left the room to go to the dining room.

As they entered the dining room, their eyes immediately fell on the breakfast table.

Or, more precisely, on its lack of dirty dishes.

The plate they had left after breakfast was gone. The table was completely clean and polished as usual.

Their eyes fixed on the spotless surface for a moment, then they heard noise in the kitchen.

They both turned in the direction of the kitchen at the noise.

As they stepped into the kitchen, they were met by the sight of you standing by the counter.

Currently, you were busy placing clean dishes in a cabinet.

You even had food put in a pan, which was being frightened, while you arranged some clean dishes and glasses that you had just finished washing and drying.

They stood at the entrance for a moment, both a little unsure of what to say or how to behave.

You seemed to be too focused on your tasks to notice their presence at first.

Aventurine and Ratio exchanged a quick glance, both aware that this was the moment they had to talk to you.

Then, Ratio took a step forward and cleared his throat slightly to get your attention.

Your head snapped over to look at him, surprise and a slight hint of cold indifference appearing on your face as you made eye contact with Ratio.

Seeing your expression made Ratio hesitate for a moment, his throat feeling dry. He swallowed, trying to find the right words to say.

Aventurine, standing next to him, shot him a look that clearly said, say something.

There was a palpable tension in the air, the events of the day before still hanging heavy between you all.

You broke the silence first, your voice quiet but steady.

"Good morning."

Seeing that no one was speaking, you were not going to be rude, especially to your bosses.

Ratio took a moment to respond, feeling a bit taken aback by your flat greeting.

"Good morning," he returned, his voice somewhat awkward.

Ratio opened his mouth slightly, to try to say something again, but words got stuck in his throat.

He wanted to apologize right away, but he couldn't find the right words.

Aventurine noticed his struggle and decided to act first.

He stepped forward until he was standing next to Ratio, then sighed slightly before speaking.

"Can we...talk to you?" he said, his voice softer than usual.

You finished placing the last glass in the cabinet and closed the door before turning to face them fully.

"We're already talking," you said, something obvious.

Ratio pursed his lips at your response, a bit irritated by your coldness. But he knew it was their own fault, he tried to stay calm.

"But yeah, we can talk when I'm done preparing breakfast." You spoke before they said anything.

"Also, I also have to talk to both about some things," you added, calmly, as you turned back to the stove, to make sure that the food does not burn.

They watched you turn your back to them to tend to the food, a lump forming in each of their throats.

They both hadn't expected such a sharp and indifferent response from you, but they knew they deserved it.

Ratio looked at Aventurine, who seemed just as uncomfortable and regretful.

Neither of them spoke, waiting for you to continue.

The only sounds in the room were the quiet sounds of the food cooking and the sizzling.

After a few moments, you spoke again, still with your back to them.

"You can sit down," you said, gesturing slightly towards the table behind them.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a look, then both sat down at the table, silently.

They waited, the silence seemed to stretch on indefinitely.

"Love, you want me to, huh, help you?" Aventurine tried to break the uncomfortable silence.

You shook your head without turning around, silently rejecting Aventurine's offer.

"No, thank you. I'm handling it."

They remained silent again, watching you work.

Ratio leaned back in his seat, his hands clasped together under his chin, as he watched you in silence.

Aventurine, for his part, was tapping his fingers nervously on the tabletop, his gaze flitting back and forth between you and Ratio.

The atmosphere was uncomfortable, with none of them knowing how to begin the conversation.

You continued your tasks in the kitchen, acting as if they weren't there.

Finally, you turned off the stove and turned around to face them again.

You had plates in your hands, which you put in front of them. The smell of the food was good.

"Here's the food," you said, still in a cold tone.

Then you turned around again, bringing your own plate, as you sat in front of them.

Ratio and Aventurine looked at the food on their plates.

It all looked very good, just like you always prepared.

But, they didn't feel like eating, the knot in their stomachs preventing them from doing so.

You started to eat, silently. Ratio and Aventurine didn't move.

Another silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable.

Aventurine glanced at Ratio, silently communicating to say something, before it got even more tense.

Ratio took a moment to look back at Aventurine.

He knew Aventurine was right. They had to start the conversation.

He turned his gaze to you, who continued to eat, without looking up.

He opened his mouth to say something, but still, the words didn't flow.

Finally, after taking a deep breath, he managed to start speaking.

"We… we want to apologize," Ratio began, his voice strained, "for what we said yesterday."

You didn't respond to Ratio's apology right away, continuing to eat.

However, they could see that you had stopped for a moment, listening to him.

"We said some things that...we didn't mean," Ratio continued, his expression remorseful. "And we didn't act right, towards you," he added quietly, casting his eyes downward.

You finished chewing and swallowing what you had in your mouth before you spoke.

"Okay, now I want to hear you," you said, looking at Aventurine.

By the time you had listened to Ratio, so now it was time for you to hear him.

Aventurine swallowed hard, feeling like a child who had just been scolded.

He swallowed, feeling the knots in his stomach tighten even more.

"I also want to apologize," he said, his voice slightly unsteady. "I shouldn't have said what I said yesterday," he admitted, regretting the words he had spoken.

Then, he added, his face more distressed. "I also shouldn't have been silent, when Veritas-" He stopped short, realizing he almost referred to Ratio as such.

A small, almost bitter smile pulled at the corner of your mouth. But you said nothing about it.

Ratio, at that, felt a sudden pang in his chest.

But, he kept quiet, his lips pursed.

He had noticed, throughout the previous day and this morning, how you responded differently to each of them.

You seemed to forgive or react better to Aventurine, than to him. Which he couldn't blame you for, but it hurt more than he would like to admit.

You sat quietly for a few moments, letting them speak.

You knew they were trying. You could tell, they were at the very least, sincere in their apologies.

You took another bite, slowly chewed, and swallowed before speaking again.

"I accepted your apologies, both of you," you confirmed.

Ratio felt some relief at your words, even if your cold tone still hurt. But he still remained silent.

Aventurine, on the other hand, also felt that small load leave his shoulders and he smiled slightly, glad you forgave him.

He looked at Ratio, encouraging him to continue the conversation.

Ratio couldn't help but notice your cold tone, even after accepting their apologies, and it only made him feel worse.

He wanted to say something about it, but held back, knowing it wasn't the right time.

Instead, he continued, speaking again, his voice still somewhat strained.

"We really regret what we said," he said again, his eyes fixing on yours. "We want...we want us to go back to how we were before," he said, swallowing hard.

You took a pause to study both of them.

You could see that Ratio was uncomfortable and, although Aventurine was trying to look better, you could tell he was uncomfortable, too.

You couldn't deny that the relationship between you had deteriorated, and you wanted to change that, too.

"I don't think we can go back to how we were before..." you said, your eyes looking away to one side, as you continued to speak. "But we can...start again," you suggested, your head turning back towards them.

Ratio felt a pang of hope at your words.

Start again.

Maybe you had more hope for them than you wanted to show.

He relaxed his shoulders slightly, feeling some of the tension being released.

"You...you're giving us a second chance?" Aventurine asked, his tone a mixture of disbelief and optimism.

You nodded slightly at Aventurine's question.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "Yes, I'm willing to give you both a second chance," you said, your tone less cold than before.

"Have you two finished speaking?" You asked, in a calm voice.

At that, Ratio shook his head a little, all of the above had been his imagination.

"Uhm, yes," Aventurine said, quietly, responding for him and Ratio.

You let out a small sigh and looked at both, your expression still cold.

"Like I said before, I accept your apologies, but they don't erase what you two said, or what happened."

They both knew that, but it still hurt to hear it.

"We understand," Ratio said quietly, still looking down, as he fiddled with his fingers nervously.

You took another bite, slowly chewed, and swallowed before speaking again.

"Good," you responded, your tone not so cold, but still guarded.

"So, don't take my forgiveness as a sign that everything is fine between us," you clarified.

They nodded slightly, understanding the warning in your words.

"We won't," Aven said, his voice hoarse again, the knot in his stomach twisting even more.

Silence fell again, a heavy one.

You continued to eat silently, while Ratio and Aventurine remained sitting, staring at their plates, their untouched food.

You looked up from your food again, noticing their plates.

"You both are going to eat that or just stare at it?" You asked, an edge of sharpness in your voice again.

They both stiffened at the sharpness in your voice.

Ratio opened his mouth to answer, "We aren't-" he started to speak, but a loud rumble interrupted him.

He stopped, a look of embarrassment crossing his face as he realized the source of the sound.

He hadn't even realized that, since he hadn't eaten breakfast, his stomach was protesting.

Aventurine stifled a laugh, looking at Ratio amused, and trying to cover his mouth with a hand.

Looking at them, it was kind of bitter to you.

The table was silent for a while, every now and then you looked at them, finally they were eating.

You let out a sigh, before placing your fork on the plate again.

"I wanted to make everything clear, because that's what the worker-boss relationship I have with you is all about." Your voice came out calm, without any hint of hate.

They both froze in their seats, looking at you as you spoke.

Ratio could not help the feeling of his stomach twisting upon hearing those words.

Aventurine was much more expressive, his face fell, disappointment clear in his eyes.

He felt his chest tighten and his breathing become slightly ragged, but he didn't say anything. He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke, "So, you...you mean we're just...boss and employee...again?"

Your eyes moved back and forth between them as they spoke, noting their reactions.

You took a moment to think, you knew your words would hurt them, but it was necessary.

"Yes," you answered, your tone firm.

"For the moment, our relationship can't be as it was before. We need to redefine the limits between us."

They swallowed hard, both of them still looking at you with slightly dejected expressions.

On the one hand, you wanted them to feel bad. The things they said were not acceptable, and it stung that they had thought you would forgive them so easily.

But at the same time, you didn't like seeing them like that, and a small part of you was screaming to just say 'no, that's not it' and hug them tightly.

"I'm thinking about myself this time," you said, holding firm in your decisions.

Ratio and Aventurine sat silently, silently processing your words.

Ratio's shoulders slumped, a mixture of guilt and disappointment in his eyes.

He couldn't blame you for your decision, as it was a logical one.

Aventurine, on the other hand, was visibly upset by your statement, but he tried to keep his voice level and composed.

"What does that mean? What are the limits again?" he asked, his voice tinged with barely suppressed frustration.

You leaned back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest as you looked at them.

"The limits include a more professional relationship, no intimate nicknames or comments," you listed some examples, your tone matter-of-fact.

"No touching me without my permission, even something small," you added a bit firmer, your eyes slightly hardening.

Ratio bit his lip at your words, feeling a pang in his heart at the thought of not being able to hold or hug you anymore.

However, he understood, it was his own fault for everything that was now happening.

Aventurine was visibly more frustrated by the established limits, but he tried to control himself, although his words came out a bit sharper than he wanted.

"And, how long are we going to be like this?" He asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

You raised an eyebrow, totally unbelieving of his words.

"I don't think you two are getting it," you said calmly.

Ratio glanced at Aventurine, clearly not liking his tone.

Aventurine, however, chose to ignore Ratio's look and focused on you.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

Ratio, on his part, chose to remain silent, watching silently for now.

You let out a small sigh, not surprised that your words hadn't gotten through to them.

"The duration of this situation is indefinite," you said, matter-of-factly. "Maybe permanent,"

Ratio's stomach dropped upon hearing your words.

Permanent?

That can't be true, right?

He glanced at you, his expression hopeful, silently praying that you would change your mind.

Aventurine, on the other hand, could not believe what he was hearing.

"You can't be serious," he said, his voice filled with disbelief. "This can't be permanent, I-" he started to protest, his body tense.

"It is, because I'm getting out of your relationship,"

Your tone was firm, not showing any signs of wavering.

Ratio could start to feel a slight panic rising in his chest, but he tried to keep himself calm.

"You can't do that," Aventurine protested, his frustration coming through in his voice. "You-" he tried to continue, but you interrupted him.

"No, you don't have a say in this," you said firmly, your eyes fixed on him.

Aventurine opened his mouth to speak again, but Ratio spoke first this time, his voice a little desperate.

"Please," Ratio pleaded, "There must be another way.", his voice cracking a little.

His heart was racing rapidly, his palms started to moisten with sweat.

Aventurine looked at Ratio, surprise and slight hurt at his desperation.

He was just as surprised to hear Ratio, someone who was usually rational and controlled, talk in such a panicky way.

You thought you were going to falter, to have your decision go to the trash if you ever saw it like that, but somehow, you stayed calm.

"Why are you complaining?" You started.

"Isn't this what you wanted, Veritas?" You asked.

"”cause after all, you met him first, right, Kakavasha?" You asked again now looking at Aven, keeping calm.

"Why are you two complaining then?"

Ratio's breath caught in his throat upon hearing that.

It felt like a punch in the face, a painful reminder of the situation.

He bit his lip, a lump forming in his throat.

Aventurine, at that, froze in his seat, his heart dropping at your words.

He felt as if you had just stabbed him, deep.

He took a shaky breath and replied, his voice wavering, "That's not-" he began, but was unable to finish.

You finished eating your last pieces of food before getting up from the table.

"Finish eating, it's getting late," you said, as you went to the kitchen to leave your plate.

Ratio swallowed hard, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him.

Aventurine also struggled to keep his emotions under control, his shoulders tensing.

Neither of the two spoke again, they could only watch you disappear into the kitchen.

They couldn't believe it.

It had ended.

All of it.

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