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azullumi · 10 months ago

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"once more to see you" ; aventurine

summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet

note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.

“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down.

you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind.

(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)

“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.

he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”

“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.

“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.

“i’m sure he will.”

silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so.

aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.

you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two.

“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.

the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.

“do what?”

“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.

“why do you think so?”

“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave.

“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”

he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”

“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”

he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.

“i love you.”

“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed?

you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”

you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”

“i don’t know.” he whispers.

“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.

the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.

for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.

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lowkeyren · 4 months ago

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—trick or... tricked?

in which : you save a strikingly handsome vampire, not knowing he would get attached to you in more ways than one.

pairing : aventurine x gn!reader

wc 1.5k, vampire aventurine in celebration of spooky month, lots of flirting (re: dialogue), reader implied to be shorter than him, ofc he bets lol, art by @/shizuart, reblogs r much appreciated!! enjoy <3

for @stellaronhvnters ongoing event; the prompt i ended up w was vampire ^^ @staarri sighs i miss writing for aventurine.

you have no idea why aventurine has taken such a keen interest in you.

all you did was help a poor vampire in need. you saw him slumped against the cold stone of an alley one night, weakened and vulnerable; his pristine clothes torn and his blond hair dishevelled.

you stepped closer despite the little voice in your head telling you to mind your own business. vampires weren’t known for displaying vulnerability so openly, yet there he was —barely holding on, his gaze hazy as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

out of some misplaced sense of duty—or perhaps it was pity—you knelt beside him, offering your help. at first, he brushed you off, pride keeping him from accepting anything. but as the blood from his gashes continued to seep through his clothes and his breathing grew more laboured, he had no choice but to relent.

tearing a piece of your sleeve off to use as a bandage, you quickly tended to his wounds. he’s surprisingly compliant, letting you clean the gashes without complaint, except for the occasional groan whenever you applied the antiseptic.

rummaging through your bag, you pulled out a bottle of water and pressed it against his lips, watching as he gulped down the liquid eagerly. his eyes flickered with relief as the cool water met his dry mouth; and you noticed the way his shoulders relaxed, the tension visibly easing from his body.

after making sure he was somewhat stable, you stood up to leave. though you didn’t expect him to thank you, and you certainly didn’t expect him to latch on to you like this.

you take it back.

maybe you shouldn’t have helped him. who would have known he would become so… attached?

you have tried everything. changing your routine, leaving town, even staying inside for days at a time, but none of it worked. he lurks in the shadows, leaning against a wall as you pass by, catching your gaze across a crowded room with an infuriating smirk.

you hoped, prayed even, that your indifference would drive him off. that maybe, if you didn’t acknowledge him, he’d lose interest, move on to someone else.

though you couldn’t be more far from wrong.

("aventurine, why are you always here?"

his eyes flicks down lazily to meet yours, a hint of surprise in them. slowly, he set his cup down and smiles.

"why sweetheart," his voice is smooth, amused. "i’m just enjoying the view.")

he’s patient, maddeningly so, with a persistence that makes it hard to ignore him.

you catch glimpses of him out of the corner of your eye —a flash of pale skin, a figure too still in the crowd, but every time you turn to face him, he’s gone, only to reappear moments later, closer than before.

how frustrating.

“i know you’re there, aventurine.”

a moment passes, then he steps into view, a relaxed smile on his lips that stirs something within you. “you’re quite observant tonight,” he replies, a teasing lilt in his voice. “i was beginning to think you preferred to ignore me.”

you cross your arms, “i don’t prefer anything about this situation, you keep showing up uninvited,” you retort, yet your heart betrays you, fluttering at the way he leans closer, the scent of him intoxicating.

“uninvited, sure. but unwanted? i'm not so sure about that." he chuckles softly, his voice like velvet, eyes gleaming as they meet yours. “i think,” a sly grin tugs at his lips, his fangs just barely visible beneath them, “you're more intrigued by me than you’d like to admit.”

the roll of your eyes does little to hide the faint blush creeping up your neck. “yeah yeah whatever,” you mutter, glancing away to regain your composure, but even the sun rising on the horizon seems to pale in comparison to the heat radiating from your cheeks.

“i’ll catch you later tonight, sweetheart.” he calls over his shoulder as he disappears into the early morning light, “try not to miss me too much while the sun’s still out.”

you quickened your pace, weaving through the streets, desperate to put distance between you and that haunting smirk. but the faster you move, the closer aventurine seems to get, his footsteps silent but ever-present.

“not now, aventurine,” the words came out sharper than you intended. “i’m running late for my date,” your breath hitching from the strain of trying to outrun him.

“a date, huh? is that what you call it?” he pushes himself off a nearby post, “and here i'm starting to think you enjoy my company."

"enjoy? not even close." you shoot a glare at him over your shoulder, before quickening your pace again. “why do you even care anyway?”

“because i do,” he replies simply, you can feel his gaze boring into your back. “you helped me when no one else would. it’s only fair i return the favour.”

you stop short, your heart racing in a way that has nothing to do with running late.

“—and you don’t seem to hate the idea of getting involved with someone like me.”

“someone like you?” you echo, incredulity spilling into your tone. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

aventurine shrugs, his presence still lingering close behind you. “vampires don’t exactly have the best track record, you know. most people would steer clear of me.”

you raise an eyebrow, “and yet, here you are, shadowing me like a lost puppy. so, what do you really want?”

he straightens up, the glimmer in his eyes brightening. “i was wondering how long it’d take for you to ask." he saunters closer, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his cold fingers lingering near your cheek.

“let’s make a deal.”

“a deal?”

"a bet, if you will," he corrects himself, his voice dripping with amusement. "it's simple. if you win, i’ll leave you alone, for good.” his lips quirks upward, before continuing. “but if i win, i get to taste you.”

your heart lurches at the word, dread pooling in your stomach. blood. he wants your blood, right? what else would a vampire want?

you swallow hard, thank aeons he can't see your face right now. “fine. what’s the bet?”

he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “let’s see how well you’ve been paying attention." you barely have time to react before his hands gently close over your eyes from behind, blocking your vision entirely.

“tell me,” his voice a low whisper, “what colour are my eyes right now?”

your pulse quickens. well, they’re usually—

“magenta and cyan,” you mutter instinctively, the words slipping out before you can even think. aventurine chuckles softly, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear as he speaks. “wrong answer, sweetheart."

his fingers remain gently over your eyes, his cold touch pushing your already racing heart into overdrive. "then, what’s the right answer?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“they’re red tonight,” he replies. you perk up “how am i supposed to know that! you can’t just change the colours on a whim…”

“ah ah, you lost the bet.”

taste… your throat tightens at the thought, your mind went straight to the worst-case scenario —a sharp bite that would sap your strength and leave you utterly drained.

his body presses against your back as he tilts your chin up gently, and you meet his gaze. yes, they’re definitely red tonight —a striking shade of crimson, blood red. he looks down at you, a devilish grin spreading across his face, a smile so dangerously alluring, so handsomely wicked.

“ugh…” you shifted uneasily, though you tried to play it off as indifference. "just make it quick and painless." you turn your head slightly to the side, exposing your neck.

aventurine blinks, taken aback for a moment. "oh?" he drawls, his voice dripping with mischief. "no, no, sweetheart. i don’t want your blood."

confusion flickers across your face as you stare up at him.

"i want a kiss.”

aventurine leans against the doorway, an amused smile dancing on his lips. “looks like someone forgot about their date,” he teases, his eyes glinting with that familiar blend of magenta and cyan —such beautiful eyes with vivid hues of twilight, too mesmerising for a beguiling being.

“never had one in the first place,” you murmur, your words holding a hint of resignation.

he tilts his head as the corners of his lips curl up. “really? then… can i be your date instead?”

you blink, caught off guard; your heart stumbles in your chest, and for a moment, you’re lost for words. you look up, meeting his gaze. there’s something different, something softer about the way he looks at you.

“a little late to be asking, don’t you think?” you manage, your voice quieter than before, the space between you feels a lot smaller than it did just moments ago.

“better late than never,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “besides,” he continues, his thumb brushing gently against your hand, “who’s to say a night with a vampire wouldn’t be better?”

you laugh lightly, “you’re too confident for your own good.” even as the words leave your mouth, there’s no real bite behind them.

he leans in, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath soft against your ear. “and yet you haven’t said no.”

MASTERLIST.

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