Latest Posts by kazuhareads - Page 3

[ID in ALT]

terrible, terrible self-preservation instincts

translation

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

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

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

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

Katican.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You speak Avgin,” you argue.

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

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

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

You understand him well enough to know that.

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

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

“I’ll teach you my language as well?”

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

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

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

He also likes the idea of talking shit in public.

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

“I'll throw in a kiss?” you try.

He hums. “Just one?”

“One per day.”

“Three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Well, I am a businessman.”

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

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

“Deal.”

Aventurine remembers more Avgin than he thought he would.

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

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

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

He regrets it almost immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After all, he is the only Avgin left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You've just reminded me how.”

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

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

“No, that's so boring.”

“Then let's do your language.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But instead, he opens his screen and freezes.

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

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

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

His throat locks up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's a feeling he has to kill.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Some months ago, Aventurine started dreaming in Avgin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he has you. Finally, he has you.

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

.

.

.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm sorry for always leaving you.

I'm sorry for making you cry.

I can't bear the thought of losing you.

Freedom would be too lonely without you.

I don't want to hurt you anymore.

I don't want to lie to you anymore.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

end

afterword

Tempting Fate. Yan Scaramouche x F Reader [SMUT]

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy power dynamics, not SFW, implied past dubcon/noncon and verbal humiliation.  Word count: 4.7k.

A single frayed thread can unravel even the grandest of tapestries.

You’d like to delude yourself into thinking you’re ready. That those weeks of mental preparation, practicing mannerisms and pretty smiles in the mirror would bear fruit. Is it foolish to hope and yield a bountiful harvest from what you’ve sown when the soil is barren?

Dallying in your thoughts won’t do any good. However, what else is there for you to do? You’ve paced back and forth in your quarters until your heels ached, fussed over your appearance, the shade of rouge on your lips, and washed away the incriminating ink on the skin of your wrist. That experience could be compared to a trivial trial for what was to come.

You thought your heart would overwork itself to death with how it pounded away, like a war drum before a decisive battle.

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[ID in ALT]

terrible, terrible self-preservation instincts

first post ever and i shall give this honor to tighnari in his ancestors clothes

Cyno timeline

Around Deshret's fall

Hermanubis founds the city of Tulaytullah alongside his tighnarian companions and establishes the Temple of Silence

The tradition of the Rite of Duels is initiated

Around Gurabad's time

The temple is attacked and Hermanubis divides himself into fragments of power that his subjects in the temple can use

The tighnarians emigrate to the forest

Before Rukkhadevata's death

The temple priests wear helmets that honor Hermanubis tighnarian origins

Rukkhadevata calls for Hermanubis priests (including Kasala) to guard seven temples in the desert infused with the power of dendro/life

Presumably, the Akademiya and the Temple of Silence begin collaboration

After Nahida's birth

400 years ago the temple and the Akademiya cut ties

The temple becomes recluse in the desert

The Akademiya keeps a fake branch for the Temple of Silence for appearances

Around two decades ago

Cyrus gets lost in the desert and is saved by the Temple of Silence

Cyrus joins in their research to find a host for Hermanubis ba fragments

Cyno is found to be a potential candidate and his parents sell him to the temple

Both Cyno and Sethos resonate with the ba fragments

The temple considers giving the two fragments to one of the children

Cyrus steals Cyno and takes him to the Akademiya

Unspecified time before the events of the game

Cyno grows up with fevers and pain but always feels the spirit supporting him

Lisa studies 2 years in the Akademiya and takes pictures of Cyno and Cyrus

Cyno joins the Akademiya in the Spantamad darshan

Cyno suffers discrimination in the city due to his origins and grows avoiding lies

Cyno joins the matra and partners up with Taj, who describes him at the time as someone who always pushed forward

While reading a book about the cardinal sins, Cyno stops to ruminate about the sin of divulging secrets without fear and gains a vision

Afterwards, he attends his ceremony to become General Mahamatra

Cyno hears about Tighnari and conducts a research, but finds him to be harmless and they become friends

4 years before the events of the game

Lisa sends a letter to the Akademiya to request Cyrus's help

Cyno goes to Mondstadt to seal the god Dottore put inside Collei

Cyno takes Collei to live with Tighnari in the forest

Pre-Sumeru chapter

A year prior Taj's son commits suicide and Taj retires to an administrative position

Cyno suspects the sages of malpractices when Azar denies him access to the details of their project

Cyno exiles himself to investigate and tells Tighnari not to contact him

Sumeru chapter

Cyno hears Alhaitham discussing a mission against a blond traveler with the sages and tracks him to Aaru Village, where he confronts Alhaitham with an ambush styled as an assassination (and his own personal touch, according to the scribe)

They're forced to remain civil, but Cyno no longer distrusts Alhaitham

Cyno mentions he hasn't been to the desert in years

Traveler tells Cyno that Lesser Lord Kusanali is real

An earthquake opens up the path inside the ruins of Kasala's grave, where the truth about the three god kings is revealed

Cyno pays respects to priest Kasala

After finding out the goal of the sages' secret project and the traveler's adventure in Sumeru, Cyno has a revelation about his purpose

Rahman's men become allies

Nahida is rescued and Cyno confronts Azar on her behalf

Cyno tells Azar that the Akasha can no longer predict his moves and that "people change"

Cyno regains his position as General Mahamatra

Aftermath of aq

Cyno oversees the project for education in Aaru Village alongside Setaria, who he works for as a bodyguard

Cyno sq 1 (unspecified time, possibly during the events of the aq)

The Court of Desolation is presented as an allegory for forbidden knowledge, as regardless of its authenticity people still give up their lives (figuratively and literally) for it, which justifies the role of the matra in the region so they can protect those who attempt the forbidden

Taj gives up his life to seal the Court under the sands

Cyno asks him to say hi to his son (but doesn't say goodbye in the original Chinese dialogue)

Cyno expresses his grief through the desire to plant flowers that can withstand the desert whether in Taj's grave, which is kept secret to the public

Alhaitham sq (aq aftermath)

During Alhaitham's time as acting Grand Sage, the Matra's authority is solidified within the Akademiya as an independent organism from the sages

Unspecified

Cyno poses as the model for King of Invokations novel

Cyno makes sure to give vacations to his subordinates

Windblume

Tighnari and Cyno accompany Collei on her trip to Mondstadt's Windblume festival

Dehya covers for Cyno in the Akademiya and Candace works as Setaria's bodyguard in Aaru Village

Cyno meets his favorite TCG artist, Albedo alias Calix, and commissions a dragon themed cardback

Collei and Tighnari are shown to despise his jokes (in a friendly manner)

After Dirge of Bilqis

Cyno begins investigating what happened to the Tanit tribe

Parade of Providence

Cyno participates in the competition representing the Spantamad darshan in order to win the special Genius Invokation special edition card

Cyno loses the competition but buys the card from the winner, Kaveh, who had no understanding of its value and offered to give it to him for free

Pre-Fontaine chapter

Charlotte writes a piece about Cyno in The Steambird

Cyno meets Kirara and works alongside her and the traveler to uncover the mystery of the card thief

Cyno's sq 2

The leader of the Temple and Silence and his adoptive grandson, Sethos, lure Cyrus into the temple

Cyno goes after him alone, but is joined by Tighnari and traveler later

The temple detain Cyrus and offer an exchange for Cyno's ba fragment, which Cyrus opposes

Tighnari reminds Cyno he earned his fragment

Tighnari proposes to find a resolution through the ancient Rite of Duels

Cyno fights Sethos and wins, Sethos gives up his fragment

Cyno appoints Sethos as the leader of the Temple of Silence, since his place is in the Akademiya

The Akademiya and the Temple of Silence begin cooperation again, as per the leader's plans

Cyno doesn't hold anything against Cyrus

↳ ❝ [RANDOM CHATS] ¡! ❞

↳ Chat: Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3

characters: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Capitano Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif and Diluc x F!Reader

My KO-FI

I enjoyed every second of this quest

[This art has platonic intention. Thank you for not tag ship!]

How cruel, how unfair....

I'M BEGGIN' YOU I NEED THE FULL PIC OF THAT NSFW, I WAS ASLEEP *FALLS ON THE KNEES*

I have to censor it unfortunately, but enjoy!!

“Sweetheart, you look a little

When did you last eat?”

Inspired by Two - Sleeping at last

smitten ✨

Some of my favorite words and phrases to describe a character in pain

coiling (up in a ball, in on themselves, against something, etc)

panting (there’s a slew of adjectives you can put after this, my favorites are shakily, weakly, etc)

keeling over (synonyms are words like collapsing, which is equally as good but overused in media)

trembling/shivering (additional adjectives could be violently, uncontrollably, etc)

sobbing (weeping is a synonym but i’ve never liked that word. also love using sob by itself, as a noun, like “he let out a quiet sob”)

whimpering (love hitting the wips with this word when a character is weak, especially when the pain is subsiding. also love using it for nightmares/attacks and things like that)

clinging (to someone or something, maybe even to themselves or their own clothes)

writhing/thrashing (maybe someone’s holding them down, or maybe they’re in bed alone)

crying (not actual tears. cry as in a shrill, sudden shout)

dazed (usually after the pain has subsided, or when adrenaline is still flowing)

wincing (probably overused but i love this word. synonym could be grimacing)

doubling-over (kinda close to keeling over but they don’t actually hit the ground, just kinda fold in on themselves)

heaving (i like to use it for describing the way someone’s breathing, ex. “heaving breaths” but can also be used for the nasty stuff like dry heaving or vomiting)

gasping/sucking/drawing in a breath (or any other words and phrases that mean a sharp intake of breath, that shite is gold)

murmuring/muttering/whispering (or other quiet forms of speaking after enduring intense pain)

hiccuping/spluttering/sniffling (words that generally imply crying without saying crying. the word crying is used so much it kinda loses its appeal, that’s why i like to mix other words like these in)

stuttering (or other general terms that show an impaired ability to speak — when someone’s in intense pain, it gets hard to talk)

staggering/stumbling (there is a difference between pain that makes you not want to stand, and pain that makes it impossible to stand. explore that!)

recoiling/shrinking away (from either the threat or someone trying to help)

pleading/begging (again, to the threat, someone trying to help, or just begging the pain to stop)

Feel free to add your favorites or most used in the comments/reblogs!

smitten ✨

Yandere CEO Wants to Date You

Pairing: Male Yandere!CEO x Fem!Reader

Tags: yandere behavior, fluff, isolation, gift giving, meeting your friends, dating, protectiveness, jealousy, possessiveness

A/N: Here's more of the CEO man that you all liked.

Yandere!CEO starts off by inviting you to lunch with him quite often. You don't even notice that you're spending almost every lunch break in his company alone until he comments on how nice it is to spend this alone time with you. He always makes sure to order your favorite so you don't even have to leave the building.

Yandere!CEO doesn't want to freak you out by kissing you on the lips first. You have to make that step. But he will always kiss your hand when you step into his office and walk out. He says he's just being a gentleman, and giving how he always opens the door for you it's easily believable.

Yandere!CEO works as late as you do every time when the two of you get to know each other better. Instead of having to follow you home he always offers to drive and pick you up the next morning. He never invites himself into your home, you're the one who invites him to repay him for his kindness.

Yandere!CEO fires anyone who gets too close to you. This leads to people being very casual with you, so you have no real friends at work, not any you're too close with anyways. The only one left to really spend time with is him, who always listens to your worries and comforts you.

Yandere!CEO would love to meet your off-work friends. After all if he can get into their good graces then he'll make you fall for him even easier. Maximum charm is the key and lucky for him he's got more then enough of it to go around. Your friends think you scored big time, even though you're not even dating yet.

Yandere!CEO tries not to show too much happiness when you casually ask him out to dinner. He's happy to go where ever you like best, no need for fancy places. He does offer to drive of course. No matter how much he wants to compliment your outfit he tries not to go overboard and stare too much. Unless you want him to stare.

Yandere!CEO notices you start to dress much nicer every time you come to work after that date. Then he's sure you want his compliments, and he gives them freely. He wants to know what your favorite color is so he can buy you matching necklaces and earrings to go with your outfits.

Yandere!CEO shuts down any nasty rumors that might be circulating about you seducing your way to the position of his secretary. If anyone has anything to say they should be brave and say it to both of you. He won't stand for any gossip. Besides once it does get out that you're dating he's more than happy to say he feel for you first.

time loop wrapped

failed to save a loved one 8402 times

punched your boss in the nuts 13 times

arrested 329 times

died by falling down a manhole twice

binged 178 tv shows

you spent 328500 minutes in the loop. that’s over 7 months nonstop!

top 10% of time loopers worldwide

Writing Resources: Smut

Writing Resources Masterlist

Fictional Kisses

How to write a kiss

How to write a kiss scene

How to Write Better Smut

How to write romance

List of vocal sounds for smut

More smut words

Quick tips for writing sexual tension

Sexual sentences

Words and phrases to include in sex scenes

Writing sexual tension

Moon angry is terrifying but Sun… that’s another topic

From this au

´Cause two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead :)

Hehehehe comedy and tragedy masks depictions anyone?? This was so fun to do! And I shaded both Moon and Sun differently! Moon is shaded in my „dark space“ shading and Sun is shaded in „normal/light space“ shading :D

🌙Daily life with the sun and moon☀️

had a shitty day and cant sleep because of it, wish moon was here to hypnotize me to sleep aaughg

SLEUTH JESTERS

I read sleuth jesters while I was away from home and i ended up adoring it and then going "im gonna make a simple fanart" and ended up learning how to tween LMAOOO

Anyways this is a gift for @sunnys-aesthetic, creator of the Detective Au and @naffeclipse, the amazing writer behind Sleuth Jester on AO3!

Still image

Here have the DCA themed recipes from the FNAF cookbook by the way! (And don’t forget to share if you make any!)

List of “angry confession” prompts

“Since when did you ever care about me?!” “Since fucking forever, you idiotic dunce!” 

“I can’t leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can I?” “I mean, I’m fine so it’s okay—” “No, it’s not okay. Not when I feel like I’m going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking you’ve hurt yourself.“

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” “You… What?” 

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?” 

“Trust me, I’m also trying to understand how in the shit this happened.” 

“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”

“I’m going to need you to stop for one second because I just find it so incredibly rude that you think I’m not head over heels in love with your stupid, oblivious ass. Are you a brick? Because you’re dense as fuck.”

“Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.” 

“Yeah, well, if I could, I’d lose feelings for you. But it’s not that easy. It’s not that easy to just let go of someone you’ve held onto for so fucking long.” 

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” 

Hehe

…👀

Some affectionate sketches

Okay goodnight akdksks

I thought about coloring these but akjsksjs eh

“𝙜𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬…” 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨

explicit warning: don't read on if you're under 18 or uncomfortable with anything nsfw/smut related

have fun with these ;) | tag me if you use any | if yall want more prompts like this, jus drop an ask

“I’ve never done this before.”

“I’ll go slow.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Tell me what to do.”

“I’ll talk you through it, okay?”

“This is my first time…”

“I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“Be gentle, please…”

“Am I going too fast?”

“Can you show me how?”

“Does this feel good?”

“Should I slow down?”

“I wanted you to be my first…”

“I want to make this perfect for you.”

“Tell me what feels good.”

“Show me how you like it.”

“We can stop whenever you like.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“You’re doing so well…”

“We can keep going, if you want.”

“Relax, I’ve got you.”

“No need to rush—we have all night.”

“Let me help you.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“Is this okay?”

“Do that again…”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Let’s find out what you like together, alright?”

could we please get some more inexperienced smut prompts🙏🙏

thank you for the ask anon and yes you can definitely get more inexperienced smut prompts!!

"𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙…" 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨

explicit warning: don't read on if you're under 18 or uncomfortable with anything nsfw/smut related

have fun with these ;) | tag me if you use any | if yall want more prompts like this, jus drop an ask

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I’ll try my best not to hurt you, alright?”

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I won’t do anything to hurt you.”

"I'll be gentle with you, okay?"

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"I'll only do what you're comfortable with."

"Am I doing this right?"

"I want you to enjoy this as much as I do..."

“Is it supposed to feel like this?”

"Did...did I do good?"

"Don't worry, I'll guide you through it."

"We'll take it slow, okay?"

"Do you want to stop?"

"Your pleasure is my priority."

"I promise I'll treat you right."

"Does this feel fine?"

"Use our safeword if you need to."

"If you want to stop, don't be afraid to tell me."

"Do you want to keep going?"

How to write smut ?

(@urfriendlywriter | req by @rbsstuff @yourlocalmerchgirl anyone under the appropriate age, please proceed with caution :') hope this helps guys! )

writing smut depends on each person's writing style but i think there's something so gut-wrenchingly beautiful about smut when it's not very graphic and vivid. like., would this turn on a reader more?

"he kissed her, pulling her body closer to him."

or this?

"His lips felt so familiar it hurt her heart. His breathing had become more strained; his muscles tensed. She let herself sink into his embrace as his hands flattened against her spine. He drew her closer."

One may like either the top or the bottom one better, but it totally depends on your writing to make it work. Neither is bad, but the second example is more flattering, talking literally.

express one's sensory feelings, and the readers will automatically know what's happening.

writing, "her walls clenched against him, her breath hitching with his every thrust" is better than writing, "she was about to cum".

are some vocabulary you can introduce in your writing:

whimpered, whispered, breathed lightly, stuttered, groaned, grunted, yearned, whined, ached, clenched, coaxed, cried out, heaved, hissed

shivering, shuddering, curling up against one's body, squirming, squirting, touching, teasing, taunting, guiding, kneeling, begging, pining, pinching, grinding,

swallowing, panting, sucking in a sharp breath, thrusting, moving gently, gripped, biting, quivering,

nibbling, tugging, pressing, licking, flicking, sucking, panting, gritting, exhaling in short breaths,

wet kisses, brushing soft kisses across their body (yk where), licking, sucking, teasing, tracing, tickling, bucking hips, forcing one on their knees

holding hips, guiding the one on top, moving aimlessly, mindlessly, sounds they make turn insanely beautiful, sinful to listen to

some adjectives to use: desperately, hurriedly, knowingly, teasingly, tauntingly, aimlessly, shamelessly, breathlessly, passionately, delicately, hungrily

he sighed with pleasure

her skin flushed

he shuddered when her body moved against his

he planted kisses along her jawline

her lips turned red, messy, kissed and flushed.

his hands were on his hair, pulling him.

light touches traveled down his back

words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more

he arched his back, his breath quivering

her legs parted, sinking into the other's body, encircling around their waist.

+ mention the position, how they're being moved around---are they face down, kneeling, or standing, or on top or on bottom--it's really helpful to give a clear picture.

+ use lustful talk, slow seduction, teasing touches, erratic breathing, give the readers all while also giving them nothing. make them yearn but DO NOT PROLONG IT.

sources to refer to for more: (will be updated soon!)