*not official, these are just my own interpretations, so the official en localization will probably end up being diff lol
luke 殇霁 shāng jì - after the storm of grief
(殇 means untimely death / someone who died prematurely / dying under unnatural conditions ie. sacraficing oneself in war, suicide. also can be interpreted as devastating loss)
arterm 应许远乡 yīng xǔ yuǎn xiāng - distant paradise
(应许 also known as 应许之地 refers to "the promised land" / ppl's ideal paradise in the bible, basically it's a vv wistful title)
vyn 囚己 qiú jǐ - self imprisonment
(囚 is confine and 己 is oneself ; literal translation lol)
marius 深白缄默 shēn bái jiān mò - purity in silence
(缄默 refers to keeping one's mouth shut even when pressured or coaxed)
redownloaded tears of themis for the upcoming 5th anniv. i converted 1900+ worth of s chips into normal tears cus i wanted to stop at a nice round number.... I FORGOT ANNIVERSARY CARDS USED SPECIAL TEARS IM A DUMBASS
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 @/八爪汪汪汪 on weibo, 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.”
𖥔 WARNINGS: they yearn a lot in this fic, miscommunication/misunderstanding and angst is you squint, inaccurate depictions of regency/high society, written pre-release, expect him to be ooc. not fully proofread; expect mistakes!
♪ FINAL NOTES .ᐟ genshin always know how to get me back fml. doesn't help that he looks like marius and i. i really like that little shit okay. its so bad i had to get my copy of priode and prejudice to get inspiration and you can tell LMFAOOO ANWYAYS ENJOY!!! art credits: @.srro_yo on x!
It's a universally known truth that a man of Major Valeriy's standing must be in want of a spouse.
For as long as you've known the man, he would beat you in your fantasies of what it means to have a happily ever after. You find it endearing how much thought, care, and insurmountable fondness Valeriy had put into what his future life would look like. What his future with you would look like.
"A manor near the heart of the city," you recount his younger self, standing proudly on your windowsill with a training sword raised high in the air as you giggle behind your book. Valeriy shoots you a proud grin before jumping off his platform and making a beeline towards you. "Because you can't go one day without dancing with the common folk. I'd like to spare his Lordship from an early death."
A roll of your eyes makes Valeriy grin wider. He gently takes your hand in his, throwing away his pretend sword to put your book down, and coaxes you to stand. He lays a hand on his shoulder, while he intertwines the other in his own. The way Valeriy invites you to dance is never conventional. Sure, he'd do the gentlemanly thing and bow, kiss your knuckles, and deliver a practiced smile. Most of the time, he'd sneak up on you—a hand already interlocked with your own, his chin resting on your shoulder, and him humming your favorite piece when he enters your room.
And every time, Valeriy would smile.
Oh, how you want to keep that smile to yourself. Not the ones he practiced in front of your vanity mirror before events, but the ones he has now as he sways you back and forth in the direction of your music box. This smile is reserved for you and you alone. The kind where it's all tooth and boyish charm instead of a noble knight.
"There will be a ballroom in the living room," he continues his fantasy, guiding your every step with poise and grace. "We will hold all your birthday celebrations there."
"And what about yours?" you ask, the world escaping you in a blur when Valeriy leads you in a twirl. "Where will we celebrate your birthday?"
He shakes his head, "There's no need. A grand celebration for my birth has never been my style."
"But if I want to celebrate your birthday?" Valeriy only smiles at your pouty lips. His hand drags lower, respectfully keeping it just above your waist as he tugs you impossibly closer.
"What use will I have for a hundred faces when I only want to look at yours?"
You can't stop the blush that creeps up your cheeks at his honesty. And even if you did, Valeriy had a hidden talent for always keeping your eyes on him. It is impossible not to—not when he bats those inssuferably long lashes at you or when he looks as if you are the sole flame keeping this cold nation warm.
Valeriy was very good at making you feel special.
You wonder where that man has gone.
It has been years since you last saw him. All you had was a letter tucked between your pillows, his smudged handwriting announcing his departure in the coming fortnight, and how he deeply regrets not being able to say goodbye properly. Even now, almost a decade later, you remain in the dark on why Valeriy left. Every servant, every knight, every close companion that knew of his name all gave you the same vague answer.
"It's a knightly duty."
How you wanted to use your authority as one of Sneznhaya's future sovereigns to strip him of that title.
Valeriy would hate you. But at least he'd be there, just within arm's reach instead of some freezing camp where no light could reach him. You can live with him hating you because you can never begin to imagine a life where you grow older and he stays a certain age for all eternity.
"Won't you come dance with us, my liege?" Your apprentice, Vesna, asks.
You blink in confusion until your eyes finally catch up to the music played by the band. So lost in your thought, so lost staring at the back of your almost-lover's head from across the room, you had completely tuned out the rest of the world.
Vesna asks you again, her voice a little quieter. She shifts from one foot to the other, gloved hands clasped at her chest, her lips set in a pout as you hesitantly chuckle. You quickly turn your head, watching your figure dissolve and slosh around the champagne flute to avoid Vesna's pleading.
By the Tsaritsa, why have I agreed to this? You ask yourself with a wince. You were no knight, nor did you have a personal relationship with the Druzhna. So why in the world did you receive an invitation?
Sure, you may have mentored Vesna, the current Captain of the aforementioned group, but you wouldn't really call it mentoring. You were more or less a glorified advisor. The masses are blinded by your previous relationship with Valeriy before his journey. The memory brings a frown to your face. Vesna didn't fail to notice.
"Is something wrong, my liege? You seem glum tonight. Wasn't it your wish to dance in her Majesty's palace?" She questioned with a frown.
"Truly, Vesna, my dear, I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine."
As you were about to retort, the ballroom quiets to a low murmur. The crowd parts like the sea being cleaved with a sword as someone—mayhaps another official delegate from the Druzhna—announces Valeriy's presence. You almost hiss out in pain at the mention of his name. Almost.
His footsteps are heavy, laden with layers of snow during his travels, while a greatsword is strapped securely on his back. The chilly winds from the evernight have crept their way into the palace, forcing Valeriy's fur coat to sway in a dance that painfully reminded you of when the curtains of your room would give him away when he'd sneak out of training to see you.
Everyone bowed their heads, eyes landing on the floor as Valeriy's gaze swept the crowd. When he met you, you didn't think twice to follow the rest of the world. Duck your head, curtsy, and remain out of his lidded gaze when he passes you. You bite your lip in frustration when the scent of wildberries and iron wafts in the air. You don't remember him smelling like he had been through a war.
"That's Majory Valeriy," Vesna whispers to you. Head also ducked down as her eyes followed Valeriy's figure. "He hasn't been seen in almost a decade since his expedition."
"I know." Painfully so.
The younger girl turns to you as you both straighten your backs, and music erupts like a sleeping volcano. Her teal eyes are narrowed into an apprehensive glare as you take another glass of champagne. "Did something happen between you and the Major?"
You sighed, the air heavy and condensing in a small fog in front of you. "Nothing happened." Because it is the truth, even if you wish it wasn't.
How do you even begin to undo the suffering of a decade-long silence spent in the dark?
"Maybe you should ask him to dance." Vesna proposes, and you almost laugh.
"Knowing him, he'd decline." Your eyes betray you and find Valeriy in a corner, speaking with his fellow soldiers. "Major Valeriy doesn't look like the kind who dances."
"Well, we can't exactly know what a gentleman really is by the end of a single fortnight!" Your apprentice loops an arm around yours, the other steals your glass of champagne, and you watch as it's carried off to who knows where. You nearly trip over your own feet as Vesna drags you in the direction of Valeriy, and you could've sworn your heart leaped up into your throat when he looks to both your figures. "If we do not venture ourselves, then someone else will."
"I think I'd prefer if someone else did." A lie.
Vesna only rolls her eyes. "Very few of us can feel freely, my liege, and even fewer who have enough heart to let themselves fall in love without the sorcery of others." When you are but a few strides away from the Major, Vesna unloops herself from your grasp and gives you a final hug as she pushes you forward. "I can tell that you deeply love Major Valeriy. It's truly such a shame you don't believe that he loves you the same."
"Vesna—!"
Before you can get another word out, steady arms catch you before you can hit the floor. You can feel your heart pounding within your ribs as you screw your eyes shut, unwilling to believe that this is happening. That after a decade-long wait, Valeriy's arm came to circle your form as if he hadn't left.
"Careful," by the Tsarita, even the concern laced in his tone hasn't changed, as if ten years were a mere blink of the eye.
"I'm fine," you hurriedly reply. "I apologize for—"
"There's no need for apologies," Valeriy cuts you off, still holding your hand as you settle back on your feet. "Have you—"
"Enjoy your evening, Major."
You can't do this, you wouldn't. Not after you've spent more time mourning him than actually being with him. So you do what you've always done—you run. You turn away and do not give him the grace of finishing his sentence as you look for an exit. To a balcony, to a room, to the outside world, anywhere that didn't have Valeriy in it.
How ironic that now that your wish of being with him is fulfilled, you take it for granted.
He calls out your name from across the room, ignoring who he's bumped into, not even bothering to mutter half-hearted apologies. All he cared about was you.
"Please, I just need a moment to explain," he pleads with you, taking measured strides up the stairs and memorizing every twist or turn you take in the dimly lit halls.
"No explanations needed, Major, I think I understand," you coldly replied.
"I don't think you do. Just—," you gasp when he seizes your wrist, there's no pressure, Valeriy doesn't even fully wrap his fingers around you. When you finally meet his gaze, there's a torrential storm in his eyes. "Did you at least receive them?" He asks breathlessly.
"Receive what?" you question with furrowed brows.
Valeriy's lips form a thin line before he lets out a quiet curse. His head hangs low, and your view of his face is obscured. You almost don't catch his next words. "My letters," he says as if it's a shameful admittance of defeat. "I've written a letter for you every day. I pleaded to everyone, to anyone, for you to receive them. Please tell me you at least received one."
"I received none," you mutter in disbelief.
"Damn it all."
You stand there with him, frozen and waiting for the resentment in your heart to finally thaw out. But you realize dumbly that there were none to begin with. "I thought you had forgotten about me. Fled with another in some unknown land where I wouldn't be able to follow," you see his shoulders tense, and you take a deep breath. "Worse, I thought you were dead until news of your arrival a week ago."
Valeriy hasn't moved an inch from where he stands hunched over, his hold still on your wrist, but you know you can break free—he has never held you against your will. Even now, he puts your needs into consideration. And he apparently has for the last decade you've been apart.
"Did you really write to me?" Your voice breaks, and when Valeriy finally raises his head, you can't stop the tears that escape you. "Has it really been me even after all these years?"
"Of course it's you. There's been no one else but you…!"
"Then why did you leave?! Why couldn't you have stayed, and we could've gotten married like we planned, Valeriy?"
His gloved hand brushes away the tears you vehemently try to hide. "I had to. It's part of my duty as a knight. I couldn't just have you because you let me. I had to earn the title of your husband."
"So you leave me for almost ten years?" you laugh incredulously, a humorless sound as your fingers curl against the fur of his coat. "You already have me. All you had to do was get on one knee and recite some plagiarized speech from my favorite book, and I would've said yes!"
"And that's precisely the problem!" Valeriy holds you by your forearms, his brows creased into a furrow as his volume rises. "I could be a beggar on the street or a dying animal in a forest, and you'd still look at me as if I were worthy to stand beside you!"
"Because you do!"
"Oh, archons," he pulls away to brush away his hair, and you follow. Craving the warmth you thought you had lost. Valeriy looks at you, his chest heaving and biting his bottom lip as his mind works to find something to say. After a minute of agonizing silence, the tension in his shoulders is finally released. "It was bad enough that I kept skipping training to sneak into your room, but his Lordship practically killed me when he announced you'd be betrothed to someone else."
Your eyes widen at the revelation. Valeriy continues, "Some nobleman from another nation. Prim and proper, he could protect you better than I could. Can't you see? Your father thinks of me as another friend you'll be bored with in the coming years, a knight you had picked out of pity instead of the reassurance that I could do my job."
He lets out a shaky exhale. His gloved hands glide down to hold yours, and you can't suppress the shiver that runs down your spine at the fire Valeriy leaves in his wake. When he gently tilts your head up with his thumb, forcing you to look at anyone but him, you almost melt.
"I got in contact with the former Major. He told me he'd train be to better—a better knight, a better man. Someone suitable for your standing. I agreed, of course I did. I'd do anything for you. I just didn't—" his breath catches and drops your chin as he ducks his head in shame. "I didn't think I'd have to leave immediately. Not for this long. I'm sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I truly am."
You swallow the lump in your throat. Your fingers are still tangled in his coat, and it takes everything in your power not to pull him closer. "Tell me then," you start, voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me what you wrote in your letters."
His eyes snap up to you, waiting. You hold his stare until he finally breaks. "I complained about the training regime. How insufferable it was not having you there to cheer me on." A fond smile slowly breaks out on his face, and a gloved hand is placed on top of yours on his coat as he continues. "You'd love the food and the people who made it. Every few months, they'd hold an event where they ask us trainees, to dance. You would have fit right in. I wrote about how much I missed you every day and how I can't wait to return."
Valeriy chuckles, his hand leaving yours to cradle the side of your jaw, giving you enough time to pull away. When you don't, he sighs at the feel of your skin despite the fabric covering his palms. "I… I got you a ring. I think I would have proposed to you with it."
Heavy silence followed the declaration. There's steadiness in his eyes despite the hints of hesitation in Valeriy's voice. "Do you still have it?" you practically plead.
A grin breaks out on his face, the kind you remember from your childhood as you danced in your bedroom when his trainer raised all hell trying to find him.
"Of course I do."
You finally laugh. For the first time tonight, a smile takes over your features as you ease into his hold. "Of course you would. What a silly thing to ask."
Valeriy laughs with you, the air in his lungs being knocked right out of him when you press your nose to his chest. He stands frozen, hands in the air as if he didn't know what to do with them. You continue to laugh when he finally wraps them around your waist, pulling you closer as his lips find the crown of your head. Valeriy all but melts into you.
"Do you still dance?"
His chuckle rumbles through your figure. A hand is already interlocking with yours as he whispers, "Only with you."
You smile at the declaration, nuzzling further into his chest as Valeriy begins to sway left and right. "I'm still upset, just to be clear."
"I know."
"You left me waiting for nearly ten years, so don't expect me to forgive you easily."
"I understand."
"And," you pull away to look him in the eye. Your hand brushes away the hair that gets in his eyes. "I want you to rewrite all the letters I didn't receive."
"All of them?" Valeriy asks with wide eyes.
You only nod, "Yes, all of them."
He doesn't reply, not immediately at least. You don't know for how long you sway back and forth in that dim hallway as you keep your eyes on his face, his eyes on yours, when he finally hums. Another smile on his lips as he twirls you, as he did back when you were young.
"As you wish." A laugh escapes him when he presses your foreheads together as the music from the ballroom comes to a close. "I'd rewrite them however many times you wish so long as you finally get to read them."
